This is a safe place no bullying! I can give recommendations if you want some webtoons, books, and songs
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Latest Posts by advid-vibe-stealer - Page 3
I had a headcanon today about none other then Solangelo cuz why not
I feel like Will has one if those big family reunions during Easter you know the one where there's like 20 people in your house and that one random baby sleeping in your bed for no reason but also Just like all the random people that you have barely meet but they say that they changed your diaper when you were a baby
Anyway He brings nico along to celebrate with his family and Nico get to see why Will is they way he is because of all these people that he grew up are just a weird as he is but Nico secretly enjoys feeling like he is part if Will's family
Anyways Happy Easter every one and if you don't celebrate it Have a great day
"What was that for?"
He is warm, and soft, and he smells good.
And when Nico catches him by surprise, he touches the tips of his fingers to the swell of his lips, eyes wide, freckles blinking like stars.
Nico hides a smile, rocking back on his heels.
"No reason."
"Not that I am complaining," Will hastens to explain, "uh, I loved it, actually, I just -- I am kind of gross? I was gonna go run to take a shower before I woke you and --"
Nico leans over and kisses him again. From this angle he can -- the sand pit for volleyball is just slightly lower than the bleachers, and if Nico stands on the second step, he can just...lean over. Will's lips are right there, even if it is more a press of mouths than a kiss with Will's rambling.
It stops, though, when Nico kisses him. He clams up and kisses back like he's afraid Nico is going to stop.
"Was that one just 'cause, too?" he says, when Nico lets up. Nico pulls away and notices that he is breathless. That could be the game he just played.
It could also be the little tinge of red around his cheekbones -- barely, really, anything -- and the way he darts his eyes between Nico's mouth and his eyes. Experimentally, Nico leans slightly forward. Immediately, Will closes his mouth, then his eyes, waiting.
Nico waits, too, grinning. When Will cracks one confused eye open he cannot help but laugh, and Will shoves him, scowling.
"You're teasing me," he accuses.
Nico quiets his mirth in his hands.
"A little."
"You're mean."
"Mhm. A little."
He leans forward, again, past the threshold of middle ground between them. This time Will waits, evaluating, pout on his bitten-red lips. He narrows his Carolina-blue eyes and Nico takes the time to watch them, to memorize them. He thinks of brilliant butterfly wings and fire. He thinks of afternoon skies. He thinks of shallow, splashing lakes, of robin eggs and icebergs. Of scorpions and scales and flower petals. He thinks long enough for Will to believe him, again, to fall for it; he thinks he could get away with making him wait, again, but finds he doesn't want to.
"You taste like strawberry," Will mumbles, and presses himself closer, "the candy kind."
Nico smiles against his mouth. A bribe, of sorts. Will's tongue licks along the seem of his lips, determined to taste more. Nico allows it and slides his hands up his belly in his distraction, resting on his chest. He swears he can feel when his skin gives way to dark ink, long-healed as it is. There is less of a buzz.
Will pulls away, slightly, although there isn't much to go.
"I'm supposed to -- get ready."
"Mhm." Nico kisses him again. He resists, or he tries to. Nico hovers, for a moment, candy breath and all, and he cracks in second. "What was it you had to do, again?"
"I --" Nico swipes his thumb along the line of his ribs, featherlight, and he twitches, trembles; "I --"
He is so easy. It is like he has buttons red and tantalizing for Nico to press, and his impulse control has never been good. Nico memorized them ages ago, and uses them at his leisure; Twizzlers, before a game, dipping his hands in ice water so they're cooler than usual. A fingernail against his ribcage, a flat palm on the heart of his tattoo. A little bit of height, and the promise of a kiss, of the end of one.
Like a detonator.
"Don't stop," Will sighs, forgetting. Nico can almost see the list of responsibilities float from his brain, wrapping around Nico's head like laurels. He curls his fists to avoid the crow of victory bubbling in his throat, wrapping his hands in strands of Will's hair -- another button.
He tugs.
Will whimpers.
Easy.
"Won't," Nico promises, and kisses him again.
POP QUIZ
“Your hands are so shaky!”
“Well why don’t you hold them still?”
https://archiveofourown.org/works/64356283
reblog to blow up a transphobe
hi italians followers who speak better italian than i do. what is a like mocking term of endearming for someone. like pretty boy or something. urgent btw
let's hear it for gay whale sex
This fic was so good and I love the art so much
4 the pookie @ripeindecember
One of the best Solangelo fics i've ever read i LOVE THIS FIC please read this. it's amazingggg!!
Bronco
People who say Will Solace's characterization is mostly fan-made do not have the reading comprehension skills that I can accept in my life. This boy had like, twelve lines of dialogue each in the first two series and I STILL understood him. And I love him so much!!! Nico's great, but I have always loved Will Solace so much more, he's funny and he's kind of mean and he's interesting. Do not undervalue the four chapters in which he appears prior to ToA. My boy has a presence!
"Don't cry."
"...I'm not."
"Omigods. Will. Don't cry."
"I'm not!"
But there are welled up tears making his eyes looking huge, and even as he bites it his lip still trembles. In seconds there is the slightest of sniffles.
Nico groans, slumping against the handle of the grocery cart. A WASPy mother glares at him in passing. He glares back and sics an errant soul onto her monstrosity of a hairdo for good measure.
"Will," he groans, metal bar digging into his forehead, "Will, it's a lemon."
"I know," Will sniffles, bravely. "Just -- leave it. Let's go."
Nico moves his arm, just enough to watch his too-tall over-empathetic dumbass best friend try and fail to pull himself together in the, and Nico cannot emphasize this enough, very public grocery store in the suburbs of Long Island, where people stare.
And, like.
The staring is not too unusual.
Will is in cutoff shorts and flip-flops. It's early March. Climate change is not that bad yet. The two of them are wearing neon camp t-shirts -- Nico's good, goth t-shirts have been stolen from him to be 'washed' -- and are both, Nico must emphasize again, fifteen years of age, with a grocery cart each full to the actual brim with Pop Tarts, Twizzlers, medical supplies, socks, and silly string. Will is approximately nineteen feet tall. They make a scene. That is a fair evaluation.
But rare is the day where Nico cannot quell the stares by reflecting hellfire into his eyes. Mortals usually flee in terror or at least walk away traumatized. Today they aren't even looking.
"Will," he says, as gently as he can manage. Will looks over, after a minute, and his bright eyes look so glassy and miserable that whoa, hey, Nico can manage a whole lot gentler than he thought he could, can't he. He reaches up and pats a palm against Will's wet cheek, swiping a thumb under his eyes. "Do you. Want." He glances over at the lone, half-dried up lemon on the floor by the produce baskets. "Would you like to take the lemon home with us.
"Yes," says Will quietly. Nico's hand falls away and Will wipes his face, crouching down to scoop it up. He hesitates before putting it in the cart, cradling it against his chest. "It's just." He looks at Nico through his eyelashes. Nico tries to smile encouragingly. Based on the immediate tears and sobbing of a child directly behind Will's shoulders, he is unsuccessful. "If we don't take it, no one will, you know."
"Yes," agrees Nico slowly. "Due to the fact that it is garbage."
Will snatches his hand back like Nico had smacked it, glaring hard. Nico is really starting to consider those bipolar pamphlets Kayla left pointedly on the Apollo table. Yeesh.
"It's not -- garbage! Just because -- just because something isn't as good as everything else doesn't mean it's garbage!"
...Or not.
Ah.
"Ah," says Nico. He clears his throat. "Ah."
Some cultures attribute tact and gentleness to his father -- Death accepts all, and in facts invites all, to reside with Him. He will take your hand and guide you to whence you have never travelled, where you have no kin. He will speak to you in your shock of your life and your triumphs. He, when you have no one, is your compassionate, voluble friend.
Hazel inherited all that, unfortunately. Nico got the dead-eyed stare and fruitiness.
"Uh," he tries, anyway, "if you were a rotten lemon, I would take you home."
Will looks at him skeptically. "You would?"
"Y -- uh, yes. I would make." He wracks his brain. "I would use you to clean surfaces."
"...Oh."
"Yes. Like -- chopping boards, and the like." He makes a karate chop motion with his hand. He immediately takes the hand and shoves it into the untraveled depths of his pocket, which is a challenge due to the fact that it took him forty minutes to paint his jeans on this morning, and vows to cut its quisling digits off as quickly as possible. Why is he alive.
He is grateful at least that his friend is about as stupid as he is.
"That would be a good use for me if I was a rotting lemon," Will agrees. He looks down at the rotting lemon cradled in his hands. "Maybe we will use you to clean."
"Yes," Nico says, gentle coaxing. "Now let's put the lemon in the cart, okay? We're almost done. We just need the nineteen quarts of ice cream Cecil paid me ninety dollars not to disclose to Chiron. Let's go."
"'Kay."
Garbage lemon safely laid among a braid of licorice packages, dead centre in the cart, they move on. The stares follow them, but Will at least does not seem to mind -- used to it, veteran camper that he is -- and slides his arm through Nico's crooked elbow. Nico takes that as the opportunity it is to steer him away from the cake that a nefarious teenager has pushed to the floor, lest that set him off next. They have only minutes until they make it to the cash register, where Nico will pay for whatever Will is watching him scan, and are home free.
"Hey, Nico."
Nico hums, eyeing the self-checkout line. "Yeah?"
"Would we still be friends if I was a worm?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
three ABSOLUTE will solace core bangers right in a row
🌚🫂
I guess I'm a moon hugger instead of a tree hugger
ur first and last recent emojis are ur gender now. mine is 🅱👨❤💋👨
PSA TO YOUNG ARTISTS
or artists who aren't used to people commissioning them.
NEVER trust someone who comes into your comment section asking for YOU to DM THEM about a commission.
99% of the time they are scams and they will try and take advantage of you. An actual commissioner will DM you directly or ask you about a price sheet.
Also!! double check that they are following you, and if they aren't, that's a big red flag. It's SUPER fishy when it seems like this person is willing to pay real human money for art that they don't regularly enjoy. A follow is free.
DO NOT FALL FOR THIS!! It's a common scam. Stay safe lovelies!
My babies I love you
what if
will lou and cecil came to camp together.
anyways, they're so smol.
cecil markowitz can trip out and he chases will around while he does it.
lou ellen can also trip out. she does the same.
for context this is what tripping out is
PAUSE would you have any more hcs about cecil/will 😭😭i love cecil thirsting over will (as he should because will is a blonde bombshell)
cecil and will met when they were very little and in the same cabin together (hermes). neither had been claimed yet.
will's coming to camp was...rough. it wasn't something camp saw often. no one really knew how to handle this eight year old who hated everything and anyone and never responded to anything.
when he cried, at night, people put a pillow over their ears.
but cecil has these giant brown eyes. and he would sit up and watch, on his bedroll, as this boy cried and cried and cried, never running out of tears, freckles glowing in his fury and sobbing until he was sick.
once cecil decided to sit with him.
he didnt say anything. will glared at him anyway.
but he sat there. watching. quiet. all the way until the sun came out, and he blinked awake to will's quiet snoring.
he got the hell out of dodge before will woke up. he didn't really want to learn what morning-grouchy will looked like, and besides if he skipped out of the cabin fast enough he didn't have to help sweep.
(cecil will saw off his own arms to avoid chores. he'll take a monster attack any day of the week.)
he barely sees will all day. their cabin is huge and the camp is huger.
but at night will cries again.
and he comes again.
and he sits.
and watches.
this time will talks to him. snaps at him, rather, but it's something.
cecil just shrugs.
will gets used to his presence eventually. cecil's mama tells him he is like a a hissing baby monkey; grip like a steel trap and impossible to shake. will finds this too.
they talk, eventually. it would be hard not to. plus, will didn't know the camp store had candy. neither of them have any money, but will is a really good lookout and he's faster than cecil is.
(twizzlers is a balanced meal. there's protein in there.)
it takes some time for will to warm up to anybody. but cecil is funny, even though will doesn't like to admit it, and if he can make will laugh more than five times in the day will has to give him his bedroll for extra padding and sleep on the floor. them's the Rules.
it's boredom, really.
there aren't a lot of kids at camp. well, there are, but not kid kids, you know? mostly tweens, and they all suck and think they're too cool for anything fun. cecil and will form an alliance to avoid being wedgied from the top of thalia's tree again. they make a pretty good team anyway.
plus. as mentioned. cecil is tricky and will is fast.
together they bleed the camp store dry, along with most hip-length pockets.
they are friends first. it just happens over time. they spend most of their time together and they have similar interests. duh.
there is also the marriage incident.
the dumbass flirting is a result of the most poorly timed romantic relationship in the world.
look, they're both kind-of year rounders. moms are busy and travel. camp is stable, and neither fares well in the mortal world. and camp is fun but when it's not crowded, it's barren, and there is fuck all to do.
there's like.
studying.
and homework.
but homework is for people whose parents care about them, so.
what will and cecil do is a lot of fucking around.
they live in eternal summer and have a forest to screw around in, and will went ahead and got tall this summer, which cecil didn't know was allowed, and also he's starting to look more like his dad every day and not that cecil was looking, or anything, but field trips to olympus are boring as all fuck and apollo is literally the sun god, okay. he glows. he's hot. cecil has Eyes and he notices.
he also has eyes when he is not bored and those eyes are not blind to the fact that will is hot when he's mad and boy is it easy to make him mad. cecil is a growing boy with urges. there is no wifi at camp. what is he meant to do.
so one day they are thirteen years old (well, cecil is thirteen years old, and busy lording that over twelve year old will's head for five months) will comes to him, chin trembling, hands shaking, and says i like boys. im bisexual.
and cecil thinks very very quickly. son of the god of cunning, you see.
and says bullshit you are.
and will blinks.
he had a list of contingencies and responses. cass helped him write them out and something.
i. fucking of course i am, cecil.
eh.
i am. allergic to lying, you jackass.
no, i just mean -- you dont know. youve never kissed a boy in your life. maybe youre just trying to impress your dad.
are you????? fucking??? unwell???
and cecil is very good at keeping a poker face. it is a genuinely god-given right of his.
along with, of course.
trickery.
especially trickery in the name of Getting It.
and so he keeps a straight face and goes, nah. i'll believe it when i see it.
and will is very clever and very observant and an excellent planner etc etc. but he also has a temper. and cecil's number one favourite hobby is poking the bear.
(will is, aforementioned, hot when he is mad.)
and will stomps his foot and his face gets tinkerbell red and says i'll SHOW you kissing a boy!! dickhead!!
and well.
he sure does.
and it takes him approximately ten seconds to realise he's been Duped but he's kind of charmed by the idea of being manipulated into getting kissed.
and they're already techincally husbands.
so they date.
it's not that cecil is unattractive. he's cute actually.
and it is not that will does not have the occasional dream.
again.
attractive.
good with his hands etc.
it's just that.
well.
they forget.
to do boyfriend things.
they've been friends for so LONG okay.
literally the vast majority of their waking days for five fucking years. no weekends or summers off. constant.
they FORGOT.
three months later they're both like oh shit we're supposed to be making out aren't we.
and it's like. cecil has been flirting. but he ALWAYS does that bc it makes will roll his eyes and it's for the bit
he forgot it was not for the bit anymore
so they try again but they keep FORGETTING and adhd is their enemy in this moment and another month later they're like kay i give up. if you feel inclined to ravage me go for it i guess.
and cecil is like yeah good plan. i will hot stuff. and will Rolls His Eyes and they move on.
the issue now is that 1.
theyre married. technically.
2.
every time this greasy angsty emo boy comes to camp will is a kicked puppy about it. has been for years.
3.
cecil's literal favourite hobby is pissing his best friend off.
4.
he knows will thinks he's cute.
so sometimes he just...influences things.
will would jump off a bridge before admitting it but he has a thing for nerds. so when cecil wants to bother him he locks in for the month and picks up a really intricate hobby and stops wearing his contacts.
and lo and behold.
a couple weeks later.
there is Screeching in the night.
YOU ARE DOING THIS ONE PURPOSE.
bat eyelashes. bat eyelashes.
whatever do you mean, my darling.
KISS MY ASS, MARKOWITZ.
can i?
SHUT THE FUCK UP AND -- PUT THE EYES AWAY!!!
they're never going to date. they would never even bother it goes Nowhere. but hoo boy are they both attracted to each other and is it not the funniest ordeal in the world
it's funnier bc they were genuinely each other's first time. they decided to before the manhattan war bc they both didn't want to die virgins as in their Lifetime Pact.
but the issue is that cecil thought it would be funny to show up to the Event™️ in a honkable clown nose and will has never forgiven him.
so.
it is in the dream sometimes.
It is so rare, for a day of peace. So, so rare. For the Apollo cabin to be empty, for siblings to be busy, for the sun to be gentle and the birds to be sweet.
"Hey, Will."
So serene. Truly. Cecil lounging on Will's bed, remembering to have taken his shoes off for once. Quietly flipping through a comic book. Will, suffering but willingly, with his Calculus III textbook on the floor. Actually making progress this time, gunning through practice questions.
And Lou Ellen.
It always has to be one of them.
Lou Ellen watches, velvet skirts tucked under her crossed ankles, dark eyes squinting in contemplation.
Will barely looks up, scrawling something illegible over the most graphite-smudged paper maybe in the entire world.
"Yeah."
"Can we kiss for a little bit?"
That works. The slowly shifting sun through the dusty windows pauses. The chisme plants turn, slowly, shifting their stems to the center of the cabin. Will takes a full seventeen seconds to visibly separate from his textbook, process the question, and erupt into a shade of red previously unknown to man.
"Um," he says, or rather squeaks. "Yes?"
Cecil snorts, turning a page.
"Bicycle."
"Shut the fuck up, Cecil."
"Just like your father."
"Shut the fuck up, Cecil."
"I just want to try something," Lou Ellen soothes, potentially hearing the lack of breathing happening in Will's general direction. "Like, for science. That works for you, right, nerd?"
"Science generally begins with a hypothesis and due process," says Will weakly. But he dutifully crawls over to her direction, settling in front of her. "Um. Now?"
"Now would be great," Lou Ellen agrees. She tilts her head. "So do you just, like, go for it, or...?"
"I mean. In my experience?"
"Which is about to go from two to three," Cecil adds.
This time, Lou Ellen and Will are in perfect sync:
"Shut the fuck up, Cecil!"
Cecil flips another page and promises nothing.
The determination has slowed some of the blush in Will's face, containing it high in his cheeks. Or, well, spite. Cecil-branded fury. That does a whole lot of activating every modicum of ADHD impulsivity in Will's soul.
"Okay," he says, nodding to himself. He meets Lou Ellen's wide, round eyes. "Okay, so I'm gonna -- lean in. And we gotta close our eyes or it's weird. And then I'm gonna kiss you, okay? And you test."
Lou Ellen nods, serious. "Got it."
She breathes in, then out. She purses her lips, leaning forward. Her hands rest, fingers spread, on her knees. Her eyes flutter shut.
Will exhales. He squeezes his eyes shut.
He leans in, gently, and presses his lips to hers, resting a warm hand on the soft curve of her jaw.
"Hm," says Lou Ellen, as they separate. "Hm."
Will shifts nervously.
"You smell good," he offers. "And you taste like orange shampoo. In a good way."
Lou Ellen narrows her eyes at him. She reaches her hand out slowly, like how you may approach a startled horse, and grabs Will's chin with the tips of her fingers.
"Why," Will says.
"Hm," says Lou Ellen, again. She moves his face from side to side, inspecting. Will does not protest, but does choose to make an entirely unintelligible gesture with his hands. "You are hot, aren't you."
"Gah??" Will says. The confusions shifts rapidly from his face; his eyes widen, pupils narrowing, he tries and fails to pull slightly away and generally makes a collection of noises that boil down to hey, pardon. "I'm??"
Cecil choses this moment in time to tuck his comic carefully away, facing his friends in full. He also chooses to take this time to appraise Will's slightly squished face, nodding smugly.
"Yeah, he's a babe."
"Right, okay, that's what I thought. It's the bone structure, right, it totally --"
"Yeah, yeah, and the pouty lips, that definitely --"
"--you're so literally right --"
"You ever watched his shoulders?"
"They're biteable! Biteable, and when he plays volleyball it's like --"
"--yep. And his legs are approximately the length of the equator."
"Freckly, too, it's so --"
"His eyes??"
"I know??"
"Honestly wild."
They turn to him, twin dark brown eyes glowing amber in the sun, appraising him from his golden hair to his bare toes. Will, unfortunately, seems to be right on the urge of passing out, so red he has begun to glow, so warm Lou is forced to let go, and so lightheaded he has begun to sway.
"Hngg-what," he mumbles, eyes far away. "Wha -- I'm --"
Cecil pokes gently at him with his toe.
"I think we broke him," he observes.
"I see," Lou Ellen agrees, chin in her hands. "That's kinda cute, too."
"Oh yah. He's like -- he's never not a smokeshow, you know? Like he's hot when he's mad."
"Smoking."
"And the whole -- it's diabolical to say, but he's like..."
"Movie star pretty when he cries. Yeah, yeah, I hear you."
They turn to each other, lips pursed in thought. They turn back to their slightly dying friend.
"Hm," they say, together.
Will begins to pray. His father, intrigued, only shifts to better the lighting on Will's face. Will agonizes, shifting to pray to his aunt. This too proves useless.
"You know," says Lou Ellen. She taps her manicured finger against her cheek. "We could always share him."
Cecil raises his eyebrows. "We could?"
"Do I??" Will gestures wildly, face now glowing so brightly he is kind of hard to see. "Get a say??"
Cecil and Lou Ellen look at each other. They look back at Will.
"No."
"Nah."
"That's! I am -- taken, okay! I!"
Cecil snorts. "A long-standing crush on greasy Gerard Way does not count as --"
"It's not his fault he's greasy!"
Lou Ellen observes the boys. She hums to herself, rocking back on her knees.
"-- and he's hardly ever here, you met him like twice --"
"Four times! And he's charming!"
Hm indeed.
"I have an announcement to make," Lou Ellen announces.
Both boys stop immediately. Lou Ellen nods graciously, sitting regally on Will's bed. Will pouts a little, but says nothing.
"I am considering converting to lesbianism," she says solemnly. "I'm not sure yet, but I have been presented with a case and it is compelling."
Will and Cecil shrug, making noises of agreement.
"Yeah, fair."
"I mean, girls. I get you."
Will clears his throat. "But, uh. No boys? For sure?" His pout returns. It is indeed very cute. "Did I do a bad job?"
Lou Ellen reaches over and pats him very gently on the head. Her bangles get in his eyes a little. He blinks them away politely.
"Aw, no. You just seem very hung up, and I'm not sure how well dating Cecil would work, and no one else will talk to me yet."
"Dating me is an amazing experience, I have references," Cecil says, at the same time Will says, "Wait, still?"
There is a pause. Again, they speak at the same time:
"Stop using me as a reference, Cecil, gods."
"You want me to vandalize their possession for you, Lou? I would love to do that for you."
Lou Ellen moves to pat Cecil gently and condensendingly on the head.
"I'm good. Thanks, though. Chiron says they just need time. And perhaps an ass-kicking, if I feel so inclined."
"Sage."
"Good advice, that."
They all nod at each other. Wordlessly, they stand, returning to their earlier positions: Cecil, reclining on Will's bed, having abandoned the comic book for a nap; Will, poking at his math; and Lou Ellen, passing a green spark around her fingers and carefully Observing.
It takes her several minutes of reflection to blink and realise.
References.
Her eyes widen.
"Hey, wait a second --"
On the tail end of Nico di Angelo's eleventh month of observing Will Solace, he notices what he classifies as a 'significant change'.
"Will's had his hair up for a good couple days," he comments, as passively and casually as he can manage. Cecil Markowitz immediately sidesteps Nico's half-hearted lunge and pushes both their swords to the floor, plopping down next to them, falling for nothing.
"It's hot," he points out. Which is a ridiculously logical conclusion for someone who once genuinely believed bees were mammals. Nico scowls.
"It's odd."
"Whatever you say, Professor."
The disarming now makes sense, and infuriatingly Nico's attempt to skewer his friend is unsuccessful. He cackles, sommersaulting away.
"Do not call me that!"
"Professor, Professor," taunts Cecil, running backwards, "decorated doctorate in Willology --"
He does not expect the knife Nico has in his boot, and his subsequent pained shriek is deeply, darkly gratifying. Nico leaves him to writhe in agony for a few minutes before hauling him upright, slapping a hand on his shoulder to stop the bleeding, and dragging him out of the amphitheater.
"Butchering!" Cecil hollers, digging in his heels. "Bloodshed! Gehenna! Fratricide!"
"I'm gonna butcher the other side," Nico promises.
This does not sway the man in any capacity.
"Foul play! Maiming! The wicked fate of Caesar Augustus --"
"Alright then."
He squeezes just lightly and Cecil crumples, wheezing, scrabbling at Nico's hand and mouthing the word evil at him incessantly. For good measure, he does the three-claw ward off, because he is an asshole, and Nico would feel guilty if it weren't for the slightest smirk below the agony and the fact that Cecil once crushed his own legs under collapsed marble to avoid stable cleaning duty.
"Are you done," Nico says, tapping his foot.
"One more round." Cecil inhales. "Slaughterer! Destructor! Slayer of men!"
"I could get behind Slayer of Men."
"Of course you could, gay ass."
It is funny and Nico is mad that it is funny, so he refuses to laugh, but Cecil hears it anyway and snickers victoriously and mutters masters degree in counting Will's freckles under his breath intentionally loudly enough that Nico can hear it. Nico reminds himself to kill him at a later date when he is not awake to complain about it. He shoves him through the infirmary doors via swift kick in the ass and takes a minute to himself just out the entryway, fanning his face and breathing deep breaths until the heat on his cheeks has faded. He shakes out his hand, pushes his shoulders back, and swaggers into the infirmary, sword at his side, doing his best to communicate to any and all onlookers that he is to be equally as revered as feared. He also makes sure his hair looks okay.
Just for -- fear factor, obviously. Very important for the Prince of Hell to look put together when he drags souls from bodies.
"Good afternoon, Gerard Way. I see you've gotten some illegal maiming in this fine afternoon."
"Seemed like the day for it," Nico agrees. "And how are you, Kayla?"
She sighs. "I hate being stand-in head medic. Will should go on strike."
Nico frowns.
"He's not -- here?"
Now for someone with a reputation as a rule-following goody-two-shoes, Will plays a whole lot of hooky. He's good at it, too. The dryads are on his side.
But never in the summer.
"He's not feeling well," Kayla says shortly. She grabs a stitching kit and nudges Cecil onto a cot with her disgusting, duct-taped Converse, ignoring his whining about manhandling and doesn't she have any respect for her elders. She rips off his mangled sleeve without so much as an eyetwitch and gets right into it, unflinching at the mess of muscle and flesh. Nico and his suddenly queasy stomach face the wall.
"I thought you guys didn't get sick."
"Will does," Cecil says between wincing. "And not just the headaches." He stares at his own gaping flesh wound with interest, because he's a weirdo. "He got chicken pox, once, when we were kids. That's why people call him Spots, although it's been so long some people think it's the freckles."
"...Oh."
"Anyways, it's good that he's not working." Kayla threads the last stitch and pats blindly around with bloody hands until Nico pities her and hands her scissors. "He's been in here too much lately and it's good to see him sleeping."
"Aw, that's sweet."
"Cecil, you ever wonder why you get stabbed so often?"
"Never crossed my mind, no."
"Interesting, that."
To save his dumbass friend from another maiming, and not at all because he is disappointed by the Will-less infirmary, Nico walks over and grips the fool from the back of his shirt, pulling him to the door and away from Kayla’s twitching eye. (Head medic truly is a job for children of Apollo who did not inherit his impatience.)
"Well," he says, and nothing else. Kayla raises a knowing eyebrow. "Bye."
"Don't bother him," she calls, as they make an exit at normal speed. "I am not as nice as he is! Medical malpractice is my favorite hobby!"
Nico smacks Cecil in the side of his head before he and his big mouth get any ideas.
It does not deter the commentary. Nico vows, by the third mention of the Solace Syllabus, to be present and prejudiced at his judgment day.
-- -- --
next
A Future Beyond War Starts With You 💙
My name is Naser, and war has taken everything from me—my mother, my sister, my home, and the life I once knew. In an instant, my world was shattered, leaving behind nothing but memories and the weight of loss.
But even in the darkest moments, I refuse to give up. Because amidst the pain, I still have something worth fighting for—my three younger brothers.
🔹 One dreams of becoming a doctor, to heal others so they don’t have to endure the pain we’ve faced.
🔹 Another aspires to be an engineer, hoping to one day rebuild what war has destroyed.
🔹 And the youngest? He doesn’t have big dreams yet—he just wants to be a kid again, to wake up in a home that feels safe, to play without fear.
🏡 We Need a Home. We Need Education. We Need Hope.
Right now, we are not just fighting for survival—we are fighting for the chance to live, to grow, to dream again. We are fighting for a future where my brothers can become the doctor, the engineer, the child who gets to have a childhood.
💙 This is where you come in.
I’m not asking for much—just a chance. A chance to rebuild, to give my brothers a future beyond war.
Your support, whether through a donation or simply sharing our story, can make all the difference. Even the smallest act of kindness can create ripples of change.
🙏 Will you help us rebuild?
Together, we can prove that war doesn’t get the final word—hope does. Thank you for standing with us. 💙✨
KICK THE CAN!
Let’s play the biggest game of kick the can on the internet.
To kick the can, reblog it. I wanna see how long this can go on for.
rb to tell prev they're being so brave right now and pat their head a little please
reblog if you’re a safe place for:
lesbian
gay
bisexual
transgender
queer
pansexual
demisexual
ace
hopeless romantics
cis-men
cis-women
non binary folks
the whole spectrum etc…
follow everyone who reblogs ;)
Was curious how far Ithaca was from troy today while listening to epic the musical and rereading the illiad and I found this map
I think odysseus would have been better just to walk😭