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EXAMPLE:
for: @ethannku! I’m your @pjosecretsanta2021!
...and then you post your content below!
WRITERS, and anyone else posting to AO3
Include your work in the official PJO Secret Santa 2021 collection! To do so, scroll down to the “associations” section, which is also where you’ll add the username of your gift recipient (you should have received this in a DM from either C.J. or Ethan!)
if you have any questions about when or how to post, please let us know ASAP! But other than that, we’re excited to see what you’ve been working on!
Gift Giving Day has passed, but...we’re still missing a few gifts 🤔 some of you were granted an emergency extension – you know who you are – but the rest of you... 🤔🤔🤔
If you still haven’t received a gift, please DM @buoyantsaturn or @ethannku so that we can track down your gift! and if you haven’t posted your gift yet, either get on that, or DM one of us to let us know that your gift will be sent out shortly!
percy has no idea how to tell carter he’s a greek demigod. ft. annabeth suffering.
read on ao3 | @pjosecretsanta2021
Percy is sitting across from Annabeth in a cafe, Riptide carefully tucked into his shirt pocket and arms thrown over his face. It’s a nice day out in New Rome, the two of them catching a break from their classes to grab a cup of coffee. Although, Annabeth is using their “break” to study for their upcoming finals. Percy’s given up on the whole thing, his own textbooks in his bag on the floor while Annabeth has hers sprawled out on the coffee table in front of them.
He was pretty sure that being with him was distracting Annabeth more than helping, though.
“Rip off the band-aid, Perce,” Annabeth says, not looking up from her laptop, and Percy groans.
“It’s not that easy, though,” Percy grumbles.
Annabeth shuts her laptop and Percy jumps. “Look. You guys have been dating for how long? Years? He’s not going to leave you because of who your dad is.”
“They might leave me because I’ll sound stupid when I say ‘Hey Carter, my dad is the god of the sea!’” Percy counters.
Annabeth rolls her eyes, and reopens their laptop.
Happy New Year @blueinkjpeg, I'm your gifter for the @pjosecretsanta2021! Your prompt was pre-relationship pining Valgrace, so here you have them, enjoying a chat outside
I really love how this one turned out, so have a happy 2022 :D
My secret santa gift for @wint-er :)) Happy New Year! @pjosecretsanta2021
Prompt: piper and leo friendship, hurt/comfort, lesbian!piper, non-binary!leo
“Everything’s fine!” Leo started. “I just… um…” They glanced around the room they were in–-a small, 70’s-style kitchen-–then back at Piper, who waited barefoot on the tiled floor in plaid pajamas. “Hi.”
Piper tilted her head. “‘Hi’?”
Leo shrugged, and tried for a smile. “Sorry. I should really have a good explanation for why I showed up on your back porch, but the truth is I just missed you like crazy all of a sudden. And now I’m here. So… Hi.”
*
Both of you know it’s your time to grow, to fall apart, to reunite.
my @pjosecretsanta2021 gift for @ethannku
so.. i got u for secret santa and this happened... <3 happy new years bestie :D i hope you like this, it's a direct result of satan pissing on my heart and soul and then twirling them like spaghetti :')
summary: leo would take a gallon of bleach over any sport any day. or art club. art club works just fine.
word count: 2702
read on ao3
leo fucking hates football. it’s never made sense to him – a bunch of broad-shouldered man-babies grunting ooga-booga bullshit at each other until one of them literally dies, and then everyone goes home. leo would take a gallon of bleach over any sport any day. or art club. art club works just fine.
when he was 7 years old, his mother (god bless her) took him to a football game to get him in touch with his “american roots”. he remembered sitting through it all with fake enthusiasm plastered onto his cheeks, making faces at the gap-toothed girl next to him whenever his mom looked away.
said girl is still next to him ten years later, now holding two tickets to their annual game. piper mclean, football fan supreme, and ironically also leo’s best friend. freshman year of high school, she’d managed to convince him to go to one game with her every year. he, having been severely sleep-deprived at the time, had given into her without so much as a breath of protest. (until the actual game rolled around, of course).
this year, however, leo is determined to attend not one, but zero football games, no matter the company or the bribe.
“dude, just think about it, i’ll buy you however many slices of pizza you want and you know how overpriced the food is at these things.”
okay, so maybe leo can be bought. sue him.
–
three minutes into his first slice of pizza and leo is already 100% done. he usually manages to force himself to stay for their games, but piper’s run down to see her “boyfriend” (who she insists is ‘just a friend’, but nobody with any self-respect would believe that) and now leo’s alone on the bleachers, cold and uncomfortable with his too-expensive, too-chewy pizza. he groans and stomps his foot, the resulting clang getting the attention of two freshman girls with “Grace 08” scrawled across their faces. leo raises an eyebrow at them and happily watches them flush and turn away.
“stop harassing the children, asshole.”
he turns almost as quickly as the girls to see piper behind him, holding two more slices of cold, chewy pizza. rolling his eyes, he grabs a slice and promptly stuffs half of it into his mouth. “about time, you jerk. first you lure me here and then you run away with prince-fucking-charming. where are your manners? this is no way to treat your-”
“get your head outta your ass, leo, i didn’t lure you here and he’s not my boyfriend. he’s not even interested.”
he blinks and opens his mouth to apologize, but piper’s not finished.
“however,” she grins, “he is single.”
leo laughs, shaking his head. “yeah, and? i’m not interested either, dipshit.”
two minutes later and he wishes he could take it back because “prince-fucking-charming” pulls his helmet off to run his hands through a mess of curls somewhere between pure gold and sunshine and “damn, wish that was mine”
“told you.”
leo jumps at the sound of piper’s voice in his ear. “a little warning next time, maybe?” he hisses, pulling his hood over his face. she just smirks and pats his shoulder knowingly. “so? still ‘not interested either, dipshit’?”
leo scowls and turns back to the game. “shuddup i bet he sucks, and i want more pizza.”
–
“and you’re sure you still hate football.”
leo lets out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “yes, piper. a nice jawline is not going to make me like the damned thing.”
piper frowns, refusing to admit defeat. “okay, but you’re sure.”
he rolls his eyes. “y-”
“no, piper.” a new voice rings out from behind leo, startling him out of his chair. piper brightens.
“jason!”
leo stares at ‘jason’, questioning whether or not he should kick him for scaring the shit out of his poor, tired self, or kick piper for distracting him enough to let him get the shit scared out of him. “you have a name?”
jason laughs, an annoyingly slow and disgustingly jock-ish chuckle that makes leo simultaneously want to break the guy’s leg and sharpie “Grace 08” over his own face. “i hope so, unless you know some other jason?”
leo shakes his head slowly, still registering. “up until three seconds ago, i knew zero jasons.”
“well then, as your first jason, i pledge to make you love football.”
piper rolls her eyes, muttering good fuckin’ luck under her breath, earning herself a smack from leo. “i’ve already tried, bud. you’re not gonna get very far with this one,” she grumbles.
jason looks at leo and smiles. “watch me.”
–
“he’s not even that dreamy, paige. he’s just some blonde dude.”
“leo, we all know you like him too.”
“i don’t.”
“dude there are at least nineteen drawings of him in your sketchbook and they’re very detailed-”
“carla stop looking through my fucking sketchbook.”
–
“curls!”
the sudden shout makes leo jump and smash his head on his locker door. eyes watering, he glares in the general direction he’s heard jason’s voice come from, shouting “fuck off, blondie!”
‘blondie’ comes to a stop right in front of leo, slightly out of breath, his own curls blown out of his face by whatever the weather is outside. “aw, baby, no.” leo stares at him, and jason stares back, realizing what he’s said. after too many seconds, he finally clears his throat and pushes his glasses further up on his nose. “anyway, we have a game tonight. you coming? piper said she got you two tickets.”
leo scoffs, fighting the heat in his face and willing his brain to stay in his skull. “in your fucking dreams, grace.” somehow, he manages to make a mental note to teach piper the meaning of the word annual.
jason perks up, reminding leo of a golden retriever. “so that’s a yes?”
leo pauses for a moment, his brain still trying to slink past his ears. “that’s a… mhm. yeah, okay? or something? wait, repeat the question, sorry.”
jason looks at him quizzically, head cocked (like a golden retriever.) “i.. are you going to the game tonight?”
“RIGHT THE GAME YES yes i’m pretty sure piper said she’d give me a quarter if i went, yeah.”
“oh, great! i mean. yes. football. wait, a quarter?”
–
so yeah, leo ends up at that night’s game.
he still isn’t quite sure how because he’s yet to receive the aforementioned quarter, but there’s pizza (again) and a promise to leave him alone (which piper assures him doesn’t count because jason had pledged and leo still hates football).
“i’m holding him to it, piper. i deserve peace, you two hooligans go find someone else to hooligan-ate.”
“aw, leo, no.” which brings leo back to his locker that morning, effectively shutting him up for the rest of the game.
after too much screaming and waiting for prince charming to come out, he’s resorted to annoying the fuck out of his poor best friend. they’re about to leave the stadium when he feels jason come up behind him, out of breath. “so?”
he glances back over his shoulder and sticks his tongue out at him, avoiding looking at his face. “finally, his highness arrives. anyway, so, what?”
“so d’you still hate football?”
leo smirks and looks back at his phone. “it’s gonna take a lot more than one game and some pizza, grace.”
“really now? guess you’re stuck with me, then, till you loosen up.”
he sniffs, straightening. “i think you just called me uptight. did you call me uptight? i am not uptight.”
he is not uptight.
jason smirks at him, which pisses leo off because a) he’s copying him and b) he’s not supposed to be gay panicking about it.
“if you’re so un-uptight-”
leo sighs and rolls his eyes, delighting in the resulting blush that dusts jason’s cheeks. “shut up, i don’t know the word, asshole. just. come to the rest of this year’s games. if you’re so un-uptight, come to the rest of this year’s games.”
it’s ridiculous, really, how often leo’s finding himself staring at jason. in disbelief or in homosexuality, but it happens too often for his liking.
“i don’t know what your strategy here is, grace, but you’re just making me hate football more.”
“nah, don’t worry about it.”
jason is definitely not supposed to use his own toxic traits against him, fuck.
–
“he called me uptight!”
“well, he wasn’t wrong.”
“carla you bitch.”
–
leo is in a state of despair and gay panic. again. over jason. "piper, i swear he’s doing it on purpose. he’s appealing to mental illness."
piper sighs on the other end of the call. "leo that's literally insane."
"how else can you explain me actually liking football? this is Stockholm Syndrome."
"you’re fucking ridiculous."
leo groans and stomps his foot, sans freshman grace fangirls. "listen, all I'm saying is ‘you don't need to be afraid to try new things with me' sounds like something a kidnapper would say."
"i’m..hanging up."
"piper-"
the line goes dead and leo is just about ready to fume himself into actually exploding, alone and cold and gay on the bleachers.
–
leo expects jason to leave him alone, as promised.
jason does not leave him alone, also as promised.
three weeks and three games (all of which leo attends, oddly enough) later, and leo is finally starting to figure out their routine.
“curls!”
“i’m serious, grace.”
“okay, fine. leo. are-”
“yes, i know you have a game, yes, i’m going, yes, you’re buying me pizza, no, piper can’t make it.”
jason stops right in front of leo, looking mildly hurt. “damn, okay.”
okay, so maybe he’s memorized their ‘little routine’.
leo turns back to his locker to stuff more books into his bag, and definitely not to hide his face. “anything else, princess?”
he feels jason stiffen a bit next to him, then watches him make eye contact with leo’s right temple. “ha, yeah, kind of.”
and silence.
“well? i have class, grace.”
“right, sorry. i was. right. i was wondering if you wanted to get hot chocolate after tonight’s game? it’s.. it’s like, cold out now, right? and, well, hot chocolate is.. is hot and i really just-”
“jesus fucking christ grace, just get down on one knee already.”
leo chokes on his drink at piper’s appearance, glaring at her with watering eyes. she seems to see this is an invitation to unceremoniously beat the shit out of his back, inefficiently helping him regain his breath. “what?”
for some reason, he wants to strangle her. “what’d you mean what? you almost killed me, and jason’s literally dying.”
which is true, as he’s achieved a shade of red that is most likely very unhealthy. “‘m not,” he mumbles, the roots of his hair quickly reaching pink.
“you. you literally are, do you want water? holy shit. i’ll go get hot chocolate with you, just don’t fucking die, grace.”
by the time jason’s come back from the near-dead, piper is gone and both boys are late to class.
–
“HE DID WHAT”
“it’s just hot chocolate paige. have a fucking snickers or something.”
“leo. oh, leo.”
“aww, paige look, our little art nerd is growing up!”
“fuck both of you.”
–
the coffee shop was closed. jason, observant creature that he is, pointed this out when he saw the large neon “CLOSED” sign on the shop’s window. leo had already figured as much, seeing as there’d been absolutely no one in line to get coffee or hot cocoa, which was weird in the middle of november.
they’re walking now, to god knows where.
“so.. what do we do now?”
jason thinks for a moment, looking for a satisfactory dust bunny in his brain to settle on. “i mean, my dad has a truck-”
dust bunny. “of course your dad has a truck. of course he has a fucking truck.”
“you can drive it, if you want? there’s a park near here that i like. we could just hang out.”
leo’s entire face brightens a worrying amount and he grins. “oh my god i love your dad and i am so gonna crash into a trash can or some random kid, let’s do it.”
–
the walk to jason’s house is awkward, to say the least. it’s silent, except for the occasional crunching of leaves whenever they round a corner. jason looks constipated, and leo’s afraid he’s not much better off. he wants to hold jason’s hand, see what it’s like, but they might end up at a port-a-potty and that’s not very date-like. or maybe it’s not a date, and leo’s overthinking it.
one thing he does not overthink is driving daddy grace’s truck. he unfortunately does not crash into any trash cans. or any pedestrians, much to jason’s relief. he does, however, chip the edge of a “totally ancient” stone wall, and then proceeds to put a band-aid over the truck’s left headlight because “i stuck my finger back onto my hand with a band-aid once when i was five, and look how i turned out.” (which worries jason more, and for good reason.)
“you’re… actually a disaster.”
leo grins proudly, hands on his hips. “disastrous-est bitch around. i’m terrible company, dunno what was going on in your brain when you asked me out.”
jason tugs him along by his elbow, trying to maneuver him around dead bushes and branches that are only a threat to someone like leo. “yeah, me neither. um, we can just walk up here and there’s a little patch there, between the trees? yeah, it’s pretty nice and-”
“holy shit.”
jason trips at leo’s abrupt stop, glaring at him from his newfound place on the ground. “what?”
“oh my god, jason grace, you sneaky hoe.”
said ‘sneaky hoe’ isn’t making eye contact with leo, further proving his theory.
“you knew the coffee shop was closed.”
–
leo can’t even find it in himself to be upset. sure, he’d gotten his hopes up for hot chocolate only to have them violently and cruelly torn down, which is a shitty thing to do to a guy, but he at least he gets to have a back-of-the-truck date with jason. which, a week ago, wouldn’t have mattered, but he likes curly hair and people named jason. sue him.
“we can go tomorrow, right?”
“what, for hot chocolate?”
jason smiles. “yeah. i mean, since i ‘violently and cruelly’ tore down your ‘high hopes’.”
“you suck, i feel like you being able to read minds is kind of important and you definitely shoulda told me,” he huffs.
jason looks constipated again, but in a good way. “you think out loud, apparently. and anyway, if i could read minds, i don’t think i’d want to read yours.”
leo gasps indignantly. “i’ll have you know my thoughts are priceless and-”
“way overdramatic, maybe? i didn’t violently tear down shit, sweetheart.”
“oh my god shut up.”
“make me.”
their faces are very close together leo wants to jump out of the truck and scream. “you didn’t.”
oh god, he’s so gay.
jason shrugs, grinning. “sorry?”
without thinking, he taps his lips and says, “no, apologize right.”
jason apologizes very, very right.
–
the slush is seeping through jason’s jacket, and leo feels kind of bad but then he remembers it’s technically his jacket now. he lets his head fall onto jason’s arm and sighs.
“so.. are we..”
“dating?”
“mhm.”
leo is quiet for a minute. “if you want.”
“yeah, i want.”
“okay.”
“...okay.”
the silence seeps into leo’s pores until he can’t handle it anymore and he finally blurts out, “i mean we don’t have to be all soft and shit forever we can still harass each other like-”
jason’s whole body relaxes and he sighs in relief, letting his chin fall onto leo’s head. “oh thank god because i was losing my shit trying to figure out how to be romantic.”
leo snorts and bonks their foreheads together. “oh, you win, by the way.”
jason looks down at him and smiles. “yeah? and that means…”
“means i’m going to the rest of your games, bitchboy.”
–
jason’s driving him home when he remembers.
“jace?”
“mmh?”
“i’m not uptight.”
jason nearly crashes into the nearest telephone pole
My @pjosecretsanta2021 gift for @voidandstarss! I made this edit based on the prompt Solangelo musician/singer Will. I loved making it. Happy holidays!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Will and Nico haven’t kissed yet. Each time Will sees him he thinks to himself ‘I’ve gotta do it this time’ only to crash and burn spectacularly. Reyna absolutely cannot spend another second listening to Will all sad and whining and thus, like any self-preserving person, decides to take matters into her own hands.
This is for @lagatablanca1414 - I’m your secret Santa for @pjosecretsanta2021! I hope you enjoy the fic!
And the bells were ringing out (For Christmas day)
My @pjosecretsanta2021 gift for @sarahsedserio ! Hope you like it, the prompt kind of ran away from me 😅 Merry (Late) Christmas!!
Paul gave her a sympathetic look, “I can’t imagine that it gets this cold at camp, or at San Francisco for that matter”
“Definitely not--”
“Wait. Are you telling me, that you two are so awkward that you’re talking about the weather?” Percy said, looking appalled,
“Percy!” Estelle bolted to Percy, throwing herself onto him with all the force a four year old could muster.
“Hi,” she said, grinning at him, her dimples showing.
Read on Ao3
Annabeth smiled at Percy from where she was perched on the kitchen counter. They were wearing matching Christmas sweaters and headbands, which Annabeth practically had to wrestle on to Percy's head. Despite the fuss he made, he hadn’t taken it off yet so clearly he wasn’t too annoyed by it.
Percy was bending over a tray of gingerbread men, carefully icing on faces and buttons with a piping bag. Annabeth has pointed out that he could just use a knife or a spoon but Percy, being the loyal baker he was, Percy had insisted that he use a piping bag, telling her that it made it easier. Percy of course hadn’t seen her smile at him, he was too focused on the task in front of him. That also meant he didn’t notice Annabeth's hand slowly moving towards the bowl of icing next to her.
“Percy”
“Hm”
“Percy”
He didn’t reply, slowly, Annabeth moved her hand closer to the bowl of icing that sat in between them. Without looking at her, he reached out and swatted her hand away. Pouting, Annabeth shuffled closer along the bench.
“Can I have one?” she asked, reaching out for one of the finished biscuits.
“Annabeth,” he warned, looking up at her. “These are for Mom and the others, you can have one then” Annabeth frowned,
“There are more than enough for me to have some.” he arched an eyebrow. “Percy,” she whined, “No ones gonna know that I ate one gingerbread man”
Percy shook his head and refocused his attention to the biscuits on the cooling rack, “I would know and then I would feel guilty. '' Percy muttered, his gaze not leaving the biscuits, where he was carefully piping a scarf onto one of the smaller gingerbread men.
She watched in silence for a few moments, silently admiring the way he moved from biscuit to biscuit, switching piping bags when he needed a different colour. Annabeth had long since decided that being good at cooking was in the Jackson genes. Sally was a kitchen witch and Percy was just as good. Especially when it was a recipe he had made many times. He made this specific recipe every year and refused to use a different one. He claimed that they never tasted as good. This particular recipe had belonged Sally's Mom, his grandmother. Percy had never met her, but he had been assured that she was why Sally was such a good cook. This, to Annabeth, was just further proof that good cooking was in the Jackson genes.
Percy was now working on his last biscuit, piping the buttons to its coat. Annabeth moved over to the bowl of icing and went to steal some when Percy looked up. He raised an eyebrow and moved her hand so it was resting on her thigh.
“Why can I have some? You’ve finished icing!”
“Do you want me to make more later or not?” he said, an amused look on his face.
Annabeth rolled her eyes, “Of Course I want more but can’t you just make more icing?”
“Well” he shrugged, “I could but that would use a ton of eggs and then we couldn’t make anything else”
“You say this as if I’m going to help you” They both knew that Annabeth's cooking skills weren’t the greatest, she could make toast and an amazing coffee, but other than that it's best to keep her out of the kitchen.
Percy snorted “Ha! In your dreams, I rather like having a kitchen to make things for my lovely girlfriend in”
“Lovely girlfriend you say?”
“Mhm”
“So would that lovely girlfriend be able to get a biscuit?”
He sighed and wordlessly handed her one of the smaller gingerbread men, then began packing the cookies into containers to take over to Sallys.
They managed to get the biscuits outside and into the car, which was apparently easier said than done. Turns out carrying 3 containers of biscuits and trying to lock the front door at the same time is difficult. As soon as Percy started the car, Annabeth pulled out her phone and started scrolling through her Spotify, she glanced over at Percy, her finger hovering over a song. Percy was cursing under his breath at a particularly bad driver in front of them and wasn’t paying much attention to her. Without meaning to Annabeth let a little giggle slip past her lips.
Percy looked over and sighed. There was no doubt that he knew exactly what song she was contemplating putting on. After-all she had been playing it on repeat for the last month.
“Beth. Annabeth. Love. Please, if you love me at all, play something else”
She just laughed and pressed play. Percy groaned and leaned his head back against the headrest as the first few notes of Christmas Tree Farm began playing over the speaker. Percy reached out with one hand and tried to take the phone from her, Annabeth only laughed harder and moved out of reach, holding her phone behind the seat.
“Please ‘Beth, you’ve been playing it all month, put on literally anything else”
“Anything” she asked, they both knew that anything was a dangerous statement, especially between people who had been friends long before they had been lovers.
Percy sighed “I’m going to regret this” he muttered. “Yes anything”
Annabeth brought her phone back in front of her and began scrolling though her Christmas playlist before selecting ‘Fairytale of New York’ Percy glanced over and frowned
“What's this?”
Stifling another laugh she said, “Fairytale of New York”
Percy rolled his eyes, “It sounds like a love song”
“Just wait”
They sat in silence for a while until about halfway through the song when Annabeth glanced over at Percy who appeared torn between laughing and looking offended.
“And of all the Christmas carols in the world, why did you choose this one?”
“Honestly, It reminds me of us”
Percy laughed “Actually, I do see that, all I love you’s and I’d do anything for you and then the next second we’re insulting each other”
The playlist stayed on shuffle for the rest of the drive, finishing on Silent Night when they pulled up at Sally and Paul's place. Silent Night, Annabeth thought, probably wasn’t the most accurate carol to be playing, given from where she was standing she could hear 2 different Christmas Carols, what she thought was Home Alone and something that sounded suspiciously like a break up.
“Are you going to help me carry these?”
Annabeth looked him up and down “You’ll be fine, I’m sure, just take the elevator”
“It's out of order, maintenance or something”
She shrugged “You’ll survive”
He grumbled something she didn’t quite catch and began climbing the stairs.
They were almost at the top of the stairs when Annabeth thought that Percy hadn’t had nearly enough trouble with the trip. She reached out with her foot, hooked it around his ankle, then tried to pull it out from under him, because you know, they were adults and tripping your partner is definitely the mature thing to do.
It didn’t really work, he stumbled but didn’t fall. Cursing aggressively he righted himself and glared at her. She smiled innocently
“I hate you so much right now”
“And I love you too,” she said, blowing him a kiss.
He moved towards Sallys door and knocked, adjusting the containers.
“Percy! So glad you could make it, Oh and you brought food!”
He smiled, “Hi Mom, yeah, some biscuits for you, Paul and Stell--” Annabeth cleared her throat “--and Annabeth too, I guess she can have some '' he said, bumping her hip with his.
Annabeth rolled her eyes, “Hi Sally, Merry Christmas”
“Merry Christmas,” Sally said with a smile.
“Come Percy you can put those in the kitchen”
She went to follow him into the kitchen when an excited Estelle nearly knocked her over. “Annabeth!” she staggered back a bit, adjusting her arms to hold Estelle and stop them from falling over. “Santas coming tonight!”
“Is he?” she said feigning shock. “I must have forgotten” Estelle gaped at her,
“How could you forget Santa?” Annabeth went to reply but Estelle had already moved on, telling Annabeth about the crafts she and Sally did while Paul was out shopping. Describing the look on Paul's face when he came home to several handmade Christmas cards (amongst other crafts), a daughter covered in glue and glitter and a very amused looking wife.
“I did not pull that face Stell” Paul said coming into the room from his bedroom,
“You did,” Estelle insisted.
“Hi Annabeth,” he said, smiling at her.
“Hey Paul, how are you?”
“Good good, you?”
“I’m cold and Percy put a stop to me listening to Christmas Tree Farm all month so I’ve been better but I’ve also been worse”
Paul gave her a sympathetic look, “I can’t imagine that it gets this cold at camp, or at San Francisco for that matter”
“Definitely not--”
“Wait. Are you telling me, that you two are so awkward that you’re talking about the weather?” Percy said, looking appalled as he entered the room.
“Percy!” Estelle dropped from where she had her arms and legs wrapped around Annabeth and bolted to Percy, throwing herself onto him with all the force a four year old could muster. He caught her and fell back onto the couch so that she was half lying on his chest. “Hi,” she said, grinning at him, her dimples showing.
And just like that Estelle was off, babbling about crafts and reindeer, complaining about how she wanted to put more jelly beans on the gingerbread house. Annabeth knows from experience that Percy is an excellent listener. He gasps and agrees in all the right places and somehow engages people around him without any effort.
“I think there are more than enough jellybeans on the gingerbread house Estelle” Sally interrupts coming into the room with plates of biscuits and peppermint chocolate. Annabeth privately agrees, the house's entire roof is covered in them and some of the walls are too. “Help yourself everyone, I’ll be right back with hot chocolate” she disappears back into the kitchen.
When Sally returned she and Percy began updating them about what's happening in their lives, what parts of college are kicking their asses and what aspects are easier than expected. Estelle sits quietly through the whole thing, munching on gingerbread and playing with a match box car on the floor. Driving it up couch legs and over Sally's feet.
Paul tells the story of a kid in his class, Ben, who insists that there are gay undertones in pretty much every piece of writing they look over and study. After explaining a few examples he has Sally and her practically in tears. Percy shakes his head “Everything can be gay if you try hard enough Paul”
A few hours later, Annabeth, Percy and Estelle are sitting on the fire escape building an “army of mini snowmen” from the snow collected on the stairs and railing. “Does Santa come and visit your guys?”
She glances at Percy. “We’re adults Stell, Santa only visits the kids” Percy said gently. Estelle frowns.
“But then who gets you presents?”
“We get each other stuff and Mom gets us stuff as well” he said poking her nose. As if summoned, Sally pokes her head through the window and clucks her tongue,
“You’re all going to get a cold,” she says, pulling a woollen hat over Estelles head and ears. She looks down at their collection of snowmen and laughs, “Do you want some cut up carrots for their noses?”
“Oooh yes!” Estelle says excitedly, nudging Percy's leg, “Can you go get some? Please?”
He sighs, “Be right back”
“Thank you!”
There’s silence for a while after that, it's not necessarily uncomfortable, but Annabeth can tell that Estelle want’s to fill it. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”
She smiles at the younger girl, “Of Course! We need to bring your presents over, unless of course, you don’t want them”
Estelles eyes widened, “I want them” she says quickly, then pauses, “Annabeth?” she says.
“Yeah?”
“What did Santa use to bring you?”
Santa never came to Annabeth, she left too young and her parent never cared enough, but Estelle doesn’t need to know that so instead she says, “Books, Lego and pens, building stuff mostly”
Estelle wrinkled up her nose. “Were you ever not a nerd?”
Annabeth gasps and throws a handful of snow at her. Estelle shrieks and throws one of the snowmen back. Annabeth won’t admit whether they continued the fight or not, but let's just say that by the time Percy came back there weren’t many snowmen left.
Summary: Will and Nico are rival pirates with a bit of a history together.
Word Count: 5377
Read on AO3
This was written for @athenafire2000 for @pjosecretsanta2021 !! i really hope you like this !!! thank you for your wonderful and exciting prompt!!
When Will first started his pirating adventures, he expected fun, adventure, euphoria. He expected danger and excitement. He expected to find his true self in the ocean’s embrace.
He did not expect for his “adventures” to consist of waiting for a so-called ghost behind a barrel while his crewmates cowered in their bunks below deck.
For several nights, his fellow adventurers had been shaking in fear, crying about strange noises and unusual chills during the evening. At first Will dismissed such accusations, claiming they were at sea and it was just the waves churning their minds. He had too much to think about on his own, much less about some supernatural creature that was supposedly haunting his ship at night and making his crew piss their pants each night.
But as the nights progressed, so did the cries of distress. Screams rattled across the ship every night. Several people claimed they saw shadows moving through the walls. Strange disappearances were reported - nothing too serious, just some missing rations and clothing. But still, it was worth the concern - if their supplies kept dwindling in this way, how long would they be at sea for before they eventually got stranded with no mode of survival?
So Will finally acted. After the first two weeks of such inexplicable disappearances, he demanded a group of three would keep guard on the main deck at night. And for a while it worked - the random disappearances lessened. But that was only for a few nights before the mysterious intruder somehow found a way past the guards.
Will still hadn’t been considering sending himself up to the prow for guard duty until, one morning, a very tired Kayla stumbled to his seat during breakfast and slammed a note in front of his face. He offered her a stern frown and waited for her to explain.
“The ghoul left this,” she muttered. “Apparently they want you to meet them. Alone.”
Will scoffed at that. “Why? Do they think they could plan some kind of sabotage on the ship just by having me away from my cabin and unable to protect my crew?”
Kayla offered a hesitant look. “I don’t know. But perhaps it would be a good idea for you to go.”
Will narrowed his eyes at her, hoping to express his annoyance, but Kayla didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps she was ignoring it.
So Will grudgingly obliged. Which led him to his current predicament - being stuck behind stacks of foul barrels with two very uncomfortable knives by his side, waiting for the intruder to show themself into the open.
He has no idea how long it’s been. All he knows is that silence has fallen over the ship; only the sounds of the midnight waves lap against the air and trickle in his ears. No shouts, no talking, no bickering - just the gentle chattering of the waves, the playful whipping of the sails, the salty scent of the air. And for a moment - a rare moment - Will finds himself truly at peace. His shoulders relax. His nails loosen their grip on his palms. His breathing becomes unburdened.
This is what he’s been looking for at sea. Just the calmness, the serenity, the wondrous expanse before him, filled with its beautiful mysteries.
He leans his head back against the hard barrel. It may not be the most comfortable position, but this way he can admire the twinkling stars above.
Sometimes he misses the city. He grew up with busy roads, with constant commotion and an almost ceaseless buzz. He didn’t necessarily hate it, but he didn’t admire it as much as he dreamed of the sea, what with its endless beauty and promising opportunities.
And as he gazes at the sky, as he forms in the lonely atmosphere of the night, he finds that he does, indeed, love the sea. He’s never realized how many stars there are. He’s never realized that there’s a world out there reaching out to him with open arms, begging to be understood.
Will wants to be the one to understand it.
After a while, his eyelids begin to weigh on his eyes. He attempts to willfully push them open, trying to keep himself awake for as long as possible. He never was one to win battles with exhaustion, though; his tiredness gets the best of him, and for a short while, he allows himself to drown in the darkness behind his lids.
But that darkness bursts open when a sound catches on Will’s ears. He flings his eyes open and jumps into a defensive position behind the barrel, trying to figure out where the noise came from.
An eerie silence rings in Will’s ears. It’s not an empty silence - more like a dread-filled silence, an anticipative silence. As if something’s about to come crashing in and turn the world to chaos.
A shadow moves against one of the walls, dancing underneath the moonlight. The shadow takes the form of a human, though Will sees no one on the main deck of the ship who could possibly own the shape of this shadow.
The figure edges towards the door leading into the captain’s cabin, its hand pawing at the knob. For a second, Will’s blood cools. It’s just a shadow; what can it possibly do?
Click.
Apparently it can open the door.
Will’s heart rages with an angry fire. Is this some kind of joke one of his crewmates is playing on him? What kind of creature can simply exist as a shadow? And if it’s a shadow, how can it possibly unlock a physical door knob?
Fear lurches up to Will’s throat. If this is some foolery, he’s going to find out who’s behind it.
He waits for the door to click close. Then he makes his move.
Will creeps up over the barrel and stares ahead at the door, straining his ears to reach for any noises he can. He hears nothing. He’s not sure if this is a good or bad sign.
His toes edge forward, dragging his fear-burdened body closer to the wooden door. Suddenly the blades at his sides feel heavy and big, weighing him down against the floorboards, trying to pull him back from the door.
A light, salty breeze wafts from the ocean, spreading its threads through Will’s golden curls. He pauses mere centimeters from the door and gazes at it, trying to tame the crashing fear in his chest. Why is he so scared? He’s heard plenty of tales of ocean creatures creeping through the darkness, slipping onto ships and terrorizing its people. But that’s all that they are - mere tales. And for all Will knows, this entire thing could just be one big prank from his crew to him, perhaps to get him back for his strict commands and stern orders.
But if there’s anything the thrumming in his heart or the twitching of his fingers are telling him, this is no joke.
A vague memory echoes from the back of Will’s mind. Some rumor from one of his crewmates about a feared pirate who roams the seas with a crew of their own, taking reign of the seas as everyone else slumbers in their blissful dreams, unaware of the dangers that lurk in the darkness.
“This pirate,” the crewmate, Clarisse La Rue, murmured one afternoon, staring at her audience with a knife-like gaze, “has supposedly been traveling the seas for centuries. Their crew only comes alive during the nighttime, while everyone else is asleep. They go by the name of Shadow Snatcher. They roam around their prey’s ship in shadow form, melting with the cracks and crevices of the floorboards so that they can sneak around easier. They aren’t human, not completely; they’ve got some supernatural powers, ones that no human could explain.”
“Like what?” one crewmate chimed.
“Like creating shadow creatures of their own to roam ship. They’re also said to have vampire-tendencies, though I don’t know if that’s true. Only very few have met them and made it out alive.”
At the time, Will had scoffed at his crew’s gullibility to the story. Didn’t they know Clarisse only liked to pull on everyone’s strings? He shook his head and returned to his map, trying to draw out an X for their next destination.
But now, as Will faces the wooden door to his cabin, awaiting his introduction to whatever lies behind this door, he wishes he’d paid more attention to the story. Perhaps it wasn’t as far-fetched as he believed it to be.
Will’s heartbeat picks up, thrumming wildly in his ribcage. Fear is not something that comes easily to him. He grew up surrounded by the most gruesome of things in the city. He knows what it means to be in danger.
But at this moment, as he stares at the door to the one place he’s supposed to call his, as he feels the slight breeze turn into an icy wind against his bare skin, his anxiety expands in his chest and trickles into his stomach. His body feels heavy and weighted, as if several stones have formed in every crevice of his body and has him glued to his place on the ship. Fear has solidified his blood.
But from that hardened fear emerges a trickle of hot anger. Why is he so scared of this creature? He’s battled worse.
So he unsticks his hardened foot from the ground. And he opens the door.
Only a solid blackness greets him as he steps in. His foot thuds against the floor and a consequential creeeaaaak! follows in his wake, which does him no good in his attempts at stealth.
He pauses at the door. The seconds tick by in silence, but Will can feel a shift - someone’s in here. His skin burns uncomfortably. Think, he commands himself. What do I do from here?
If the creature really is a shadow, then it must not be able to form in the light, right? Will’s head feels warm and feverish at this revelation. Light switch, he thinks. Where’s the damn light switch?
He twists his head, though he knows the act is hopeless. He’s not going to find something so miniscule with his mere eyes, at least not in this darkness. But he knows the switch is nearby - just to his right, somewhere on the wall. He steps tentatively to the side of the doorway and gropes around, sliding his hand against the smooth wall.
Just as his fingers brush against the panel, and just as his heart overflows with a sudden hope, a low, familiar laugh echoes into the room. The sound of it completely washes away any confidence Will had been feeling earlier, replacing it completely with a billowing dread in his chest.
“You’re looking for the light switch,” the creature murmurs, and the sound of it sounds familiar, like a distant memory. “You think light’s going to help take me away. Go ahead, try me.”
As the voice seeps into Will’s ears, a sudden, painful yearning grips him by the chest, though he’s not sure why.
Despite his temptation to try to remember where he’s heard that voice, Will’s teeth grind against each other. It’s one thing to reduce him to his fear; it’s another to diminish and challenge him while he’s already on edge. He knows there’s going to be some kind of consequence with the act of turning the lights on, but he doesn’t seem to have any other choice.
The switch flicks underneath his fingers. The onslaught of light slices his irises with a searing pain, and it takes him a moment to adjust to his surroundings. When the brightness finally eases on his eyes, his gaze falls on a figure propped up on the center desk, their feet crossed against the wood of the table and their body lazing back on the main seat.
Will’s body freezes even before he gets a full view of the figure. Some kind of shock wave travels through his system, sparking his very bones and boiling his blood at the sight of the creature. His mind aches at this presence of someone so familiar yet so distant.
Will focuses his gaze on the figure’s face, trying to discern anything of possible importance to him. His eyes absorb each feature one by one, starting with the creature’s dark, luminous eyes and then traveling across the rest of their olive-toned face. Will’s heart skips a tentative beat as he consumes the appearance of this stranger; he has an archaic, timeless face, as if he could either be hundreds of years old or simply decades. The figure’s jaw juts out confidently - or perhaps even cockily - while they take a taste at Will’s own appearance, trying to discern him, to understand him from a mere overview.
Will doesn’t like the way the figure’s cold, calculating eyes peer at him, as if they can see more about him than he knows about himself. He feels like he’s being pried open, cut open from the eye sockets and being shredded with just the simple gaze of the intruder.
It’s only when Will’s own eyes land on the figure’s fingers that his body spikes up with heat. A skull ring gleams underneath the bright lighting, a familiar, painful ring that makes Will’s mind cry out in longing and understanding as he gazes at it.
“Nico di Angelo,” he whispers.
The figure - Nico - smiles at him, and Will notices the sharp, glimmering fangs that replace his canines. The sight of them sends Will’s body thundering with guilt. He wants to sit down, to bury himself in the ground, to cry for centuries. But he knows that would show Nico that he feels guilty, and he can’t afford to show any kind of vulnerability, not now.
“Miss me, Solace?” Nico asks, a daring smile pulling on his lips. Will knows he’s tilting his head further into the light on purpose to try to showcase his fangs. Nico raises an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s right, isn’t it Captain Solace now? You’ve got your own ship and everything…”
Any guilt that Will felt earlier turns into anger in its purest element. What right does Nico have climbing aboard his ship and terrorizing his crew? What right does he have to come stumbling right back into Will’s life after years of distancing himself from him?
“What do you want from me, Nico?” Will mutters through gritted teeth. “Why are you here?”
“Nothing much,” Nico says. He uncrosses his legs from the desk and lets them thump to the ground as he rises. A nimble finger runs curiously over the shiny wood of the desk, and this simple action makes Will feel as though he’s inspecting every inch and corner of this new life he’s created. He throws a smile at Will. “I just wanted to stop by and have a little catch-up time. I’ve got my own crew, now, too, so I figured it might be nice to get to know the competition.” He flicks a speck of dust from the table. “Your name has led to quite the banter across the sea, you know. Jealous seamen muttering about how to throw you down.” Nico crosses his arms. “Bet this life really is cut out for you, isn’t it? You always did like to put yourself on top, to have people look up to you. You’ve done good as a pirate, I can tell.”
Will raises an eyebrow. He knows Nico’s just trying to get under his skin, to throw him off balance and crash into this ocean of tension between them, but he stands his ground. He takes a deep, silent breath and crosses his own arms, offering Nico a once over. “This career has done good to me, yes. Glad to hear you’ve got a life of your own, now, too. How’s the pirate life going? I never took you to be the… adventurous type.”
Nico’s head tilts in amusement. “Maybe I’ve changed. We all do that, don’t we?” As if to support his point, his smile turns wider and he knocks a knuckle against his left fang.
Will’s heart crunches on itself.
“Nico…,” he whispers, but the intruder merely shakes his head.
“It’s all in the past now,” Nico says, though if the raging fire behind his eyes says anything, Will knows the past has tormented him for years. He never was good at letting go of grudges - but Will supposes this is a grudge he has every right to hold.
Nico crosses over to the front of the desk, coming over to meet Will face-to-face. With every thump, thump, thump of Nico’s boots, Will’s chest constricts with guilt.
“Besides,” Nico says, smiling maniacally, “I’ve been doing pretty great as a captain. Being on the seas isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Especially since being turned.”
There he goes again, Will thinks, trying to guilt me. He has no shame.
“Nico,” Will says, desperation bleeding into his voice, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about running away all those years ago. I’m sorry about leaving you to those vampires. I was just a teenager. I didn’t know how to handle so many people all at once. I… I was scared.”
His voice breaks at the end. He never was good at apologies, and he knows that this sorry excuse of one is not enough to ease the cancerous sorrow in Nico’s heart, but he doesn’t know how else to atone for what he’s done.
Will’s words seem to surprise Nico, though. His demeanor falters for a mere second, his walls breaking down to try to take in what Will’s said. Then he shakes his head, clearing his mind, and gazes at Will through transparent eyes.
“You were scared,” he says, astonished. A look of surprise pulls on his features. “I suppose you really have changed. You would never have admitted that to me a decade ago.”
Will takes his surprise as a sign of hope. Perhaps he’s broken through Nico’s wall of rage. Perhaps he has a second chance…
And Nico sees Will’s hope. Because in the matter of seconds, he completely shatters it.
A sharp, poisonous smile strikes against his lips - a smile with no humor, no kindness - and he tilts his head. “But I’ve changed, too, Will. I am forever thankful for you. I’m so incredibly grateful you left me all alone in that forest, with nothing but my stupid stake to try to fight out at least four vampires. I’m so grateful you tried to save your own skin because you were always too much of a coward to love me. I’m so grateful that you left, because you made me realize I had a stupid heart that loved too easily. I’m so grateful that I gave up and let the vampire bite me because I was tired and I was sick and you weren’t going to come back, never again.”
“Nico…”
“You were supposed to take me with you,” Nico grits out, and Will sees the smile slip away. In its place reveals the explosive anger Nico had been keeping in for too long. “You promised me we’d get away from everyone and let the sea take us in. You broke that promise. You broke me.”
Will wants to say something. He wants to apologize, to get down on his knees and admit how sorry he is for everything, to cling onto Nico’s clothing and beg him to understand. But he knows Nico won’t accept anything.
His apology would be too little, too late.
“It’s okay, though,” Nico says, and now his voice carries a dangerous edge, like a knife about to slice someone open. “Because you taught me something valuable, Captain Solace.” Nico raises his hand and stares at it, as if considering what next move he could do. “Humans change constantly. Their minds change, their hearts change, their morals change.” A shadow crosses over his eyes as he gazes at Will, and Will wonders if the dizziness he feels right now is because of the rocking of the boat or the pain he feels as he gazes at the unrecognizable person before him.
“I loved a version of you that died the day you left,” Nico mutters. “And I haven’t loved anyone since, because you taught me that loving people is a dangerous game. It’s like having a noose around your throat; with one trip, we both die.”
And with that, Will’s entire body shatters. He crumples to the ground and gazes at Nico, though his features are bleared by the tears clogging his vision. Nico stands like a tall, angry statue above him, his eyes thunderous with repressed rage. All Nico has to do is step forward and he could break Will’s fingers.
And maybe that’s what Will deserves.
“But it’s okay,” Nico whispers, and he doesn’t sound so thunderous anymore; he only sounds like a rainstorm. “Because now I have superhuman strengths. I can melt into shadows. I can carry things no mortal human can carry with my bare arms. I can fly. I’m immortal, as long as I don’t get killed by a stake or garlic or whatnot. I can also turn into a cute bat.” As if to prove his point, he pops into said creature and flies around, bouncing from wall to wall to show off his new powers. When he steps back into human form - or, rather, humanoid form, since he doesn’t appear to be a true human anymore - he smiles at Will. “You broke my heart, but I got stronger. So I suppose I really am grateful for you.”
Will swallows. He doesn’t trust himself to speak.
Nico must get some content from his anguish, because now his smile appears amused again. “Why are you on the ground? You can stand. You don’t need to bow to me.”
So Will obliges, though he suppresses the urge to say he wasn’t bowing in the first place.
“Although I didn’t mind it,” Nico admits, shrugging, as Will shakily emerges from the floor. He hastily grips the corner of the desk, afraid that he might just pass out in moments if he stands for too long. “Besides, I am the king of vampires now. Bet you didn’t know that.”
Will shakes his head.
“Indeed,” Nico says, his voice filled with pride. “After you left, I took it upon myself to best every vampire. Eventually I assumed the position as the king’s right-hand man. I became his successor, because he didn’t have kids of his own. When he died, I took his place.” Nico rolls his eyes. “The old bastard went on for centuries. Eventually he was just done. Now I roam the seas with my own group of vampires, harassing and tormenting and gaining power with each passing day.”
Finally, after what’s seemed like ages, Will’s tongue finds the courage to move. “Shadow Snatcher,” he murmurs. “That’s what they call you. In the stories, at least.”
Nico laughs, though no humor peaks through. “That’s me, I suppose. I stole the name after the vampire king died. Now I continue his legacy.” Nico rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Some of my advisors are on my case about having successors, possibly settling down with someone and making my own spawn, but I don’t see why I need to do that now. I only just got the role a few years ago.” Nico smiles again. “But all that is of no matter to you, is it? You want to know why I’m really here. You know I wouldn’t just come here to get angry about our old drama and then leave.”
Will has to agree. He knows there’s more to it than just raging about what hurt them both. Nico isn’t someone to drop in with emotional baggage for no reason; he wants something, and he’s using this leverage of heartache against Will, knowing it will eventually come crashing back down on him.
“What is it you want?” Will asks. “Why are you really here?”
Nico crosses back around to the back of his desk and drops himself onto the chair, making himself comfortable. Will has to physically restrain himself from lashing out and throwing him off the seat. The vampire intruder crosses his arms behind his back and juts his chin out towards Will, then places his hands onto the desk and folds them together. Will hates how comfortable he looks in his chair; it’s as if he owns the place, as if he’s the captain of this ship and Will is a mere crewmate.
“Your name is well-known amongst those of the ocean, and across the world,” Nico states. “There are not many people who don’t know you.”
A surge of hot pride sparks up Will’s stomach. He offers a delicate, prideful smile. “That is true. I’ve made quite the mark.”
Nico raises an eyebrow. “Still as cocky and self-absorbed as ever, I see. Perhaps that will come in handy.” Before Will can ask what he means, Nico leans forward, his eyes glazed with seriousness. “I want to make you an offer,” he says. “We should work together. We can rule the seas together, take apart every league and crew we can and make them a part of our oceanic empire. We will have our names known across the world.”
Will’s skin tenses underneath his clothing. He senses a trap - it’s quite obvious, if Nico’s light tone is any indicator. “My name is already widely known,” Will says. “What’s in this for you?”
Nico smiles. “My name gets better-known, too. We get people on our side. We could have a network of ships that steal and battle for us. Think about it, Will. We could simply lie down in hammocks and drink wine till the wee hours of the morning and be at ease while the entire ocean does our bidding for us. What’s not to like?”
Will shakes his head. “There’s more to this. You have other plans.”
“There is,” Nico admits. “But I’m afraid if I were to tell you, you wouldn’t want it.”
Will scoffs. “Well, then, I suppose we don’t really have a deal. You’re not giving me a good reason to agree. I don’t need you to make myself a name and be known. I can do that myself, thanks.”
Will and Nico are already on rough ends of the rope. He doesn’t expect for anything to hurt more than what’s already been done, but when he sees the pain in Nico’s eyes as he says those last words, he realizes he’s struck a nerve. Is it possible that maybe Nico just wants me? Will wonders. And at that thought, his own heart fleets up - maybe he has a chance. Maybe he can somehow mend this rift that’s appeared between them.
But as quick as that pain appears, it slips away, and Nico remains stoic. “Yes,” he murmurs, “I figured as much. I wonder if this will push you, though - either we become allies, or we become enemies in this sea. We will be forever in a state of fighting and battle with each other. Do you really want a crew of vampires to be against you, Captain Solace? You realize the power we have, correct? You realize we could hurt your name?”
Will’s body goes frigid at Nico’s words, absorbing his threat. There’s the catch, he realizes. He could either agree to Nico’s unhelpful deal, or he could become mortal enemies with an entire fleet of vampires and risk getting tortured for however long he remains a pirate. Not to mention Nico’s own plans.
Will can’t find it in him to agree. He does not find the idea of having Nico as an ally a good choice. Partly because he’s never been good with making allies - he prefers his independence, because it gives value to his accomplishments. He never liked asking for help.
But the other reason is because, deep down, Nico would be a sore reminder each and every day of all that Will regrets.
He always meant to come back for Nico. He figured that Nico could handle himself; he’d been trained to fight vampires for years, even longer than Will ever had.
His mother was suffering in their burning apartment the day the vampires arrived, and he needed to save her - she was all he had left. Will’s mother was in a fragile state, sentenced to years of madness and depression after Will’s father ruined them both. He needed to save her, in more ways than one.
He never told Nico about his mother. He didn’t like people’s pity. He didn’t like the way others spoke about her in their apartment building, the way they always seemed to look at him with sadness. “That poor boy,” they’d whisper. “He’s not going to end up very well. Soon he’ll go as mad as his mother.”
Nico was his only escape from all of that. Will didn’t want to taint the one light in his life with the shadows of his agony.
And for this reason he accepts Nico’s anger towards him. Nico never knew, and Will can’t hold that against him. He made his decision ten years ago when he left Nico, and he’ll need to face the consequences of that.
If he makes an alliance with Nico and his crew, that means he’ll have to face the guilt and regret of leaving him. He’ll have to relive the anguish of making that choice between his mother and his lover every single day. That isn’t something he’s ready to take charge of.
So Will shakes his head slowly. His heart rages in his chest, pounding violently. Every inch of him is screaming to confess to Nico, to tell him everything he wished he could have told him when he left. He wishes he could tell the truth to him, to finally break down and let someone see the real him.
But to show the realest version of him is admitting to defeat. Showing his scars means humiliation.
He never learned to handle humiliation.
Will clenches his fist. He steels himself once more, locks a chain on his heart and allows his captain instincts to take over. He’s the leader of this ship and of his heart. He can control them both.
“I’d like you to leave,” he mutters. “If we are to be enemies, then so be it.”
Nico tilts his head, and an impassive expression flits against his face. He doesn’t show any emotion to this decision. Will supposes that’s for the best.
“Very well.” Nico stands slowly from Will’s seat and holds himself firmly, as if trying to contain any piece of him from slipping out of the cracks. “If that’s what you wish,” Nico murmurs, and Will shivers underneath his cold, shadowed gaze, “then shall be it.”
Nico’s footsteps tread against the floorboards as he steps closer to Will. The light catches on his face, and for a mere second, Will almost believes he’s seventeen again, about to touch that very skin with his bare thumb and melt himself into the love that Nico contained. But he’s not seventeen anymore, he’s twenty-seven, and now Nico contains no love in him. He is a mere vessel of anger. Anger that Will erupted in him.
Nico is close now, close enough that Will can see the freckles on his nose and the deep, dark, dangerous eyes he fell in love with so many years ago. His eyelashes whisper against his cheeks.
Will wants to reach out. He wants to touch Nico and love Nico and be with Nico. But he knows that isn’t possible, not anymore. He ruined that years ago.
Nico presses a light kiss to Will’s lips, but for some reason, this comes as no surprise to him. Maybe some part of him was expecting it. The kiss is bitter, sour, filling Will only with the coldness of dread in his chest. It’s a kiss to mark hate.
Then Nico pulls away. And in his eyes, Will sees only a raging regret.
With that, Nico takes one step closer and melts into the shadow that Will casts.
Will is left with nothing but the lingering kiss on his lips.
Will was beginning to wonder whether Nico realized he was even in the room when he finally spoke. His voice was monotone, as empty as the look he had given Will when he’d opened the door.
“How did you even find me?”
Ok it's done I finally finished the piece for my @pjosecretsanta2021 giftee, @noah-jackson. I hope you like it, and you can read the rest here!
hey!! this is my piece for the percy jackson gift exchange @pjosecretsanta2021. my lovely giftee @rainnows wished for a piece that involved “Ghost hunter Nico and reluctant sidekick Will.” I tried my best on this art since digital isnt really my forte, but just imagine a convo between Nico & Will:
Nico: I can sense spirits around here, can’t you?
Will: Uhh maybe I should’ve brought the EMF reader.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Here’s my @pjosecretsanta2021 fic for @marbleheavy! The prompt was Solangelo college AU established relationship they/he Nico. I had fun writing it, so I hope you like it Marble :)
Chapters: 1/7
Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Nico di Angelo & Will Solace, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Calypso & Leo Valdez
Characters: Nico di Angelo, Will Solace, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Hazel Levesque, Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Thalia Grace, Piper McLean, Calypso (Percy Jackson), Jason Grace, Frank Zhang, Leo Valdez
Additional Tags: Secret Santa, Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, He/They Nico
Summary:
Will, Nico, and the rest of their friends from Mr. Brunner’s Camp For Runaways and Troubled Teens and Olympia Academy share an off-campus apartment at Chase-Dare University. Our story starts at the beginning of finals week, and the crew is excited for their group trip to upstate New York for the holidays. They call the annual trip “Saturnalia” in honor of their old camp activities director, Mr. Brunner’s, obsession with Greco-Roman Mythology. Fluff ensues.
Preview:
Nico twirled their apple pencil in their hand in a vain attempt to keep their eyes open as their calculus professor droned on about integrals of trigonometric functions. They felt themselves nodding off for about the 10th time in the last 30 minutes. They felt a light brush against their shoulder and inhaled sharply, opening their eyes. Will’s sky blue eyes sparkled as he raised an eyebrow at Nico. Nico blushed and let their hair fall into their face. Will just smiled softly and tapped the back of Nico’s left arm, a silent invitation. Nico slipped their hand under the table, intertwining their fingers with Will’s. Will tapped the back of Nico’s hand with his fingers, the gentle stimming having the dual purpose of helping Will concentrate and keeping Nico awake. They’d both started at Chase-Dare University that fall, Will as a pre-med student studying Biological Sciences and Nico as an Interactive Media and Game Development major with a concentration in art. Will was technically a year older than Nico, but he’d decided to take a gap year; partly because of COVID and partly so he and Nico could take their gen-eds and graduate together. Luckily, the vaccine rollout was fast enough that everything had gone back to normal by the fall of Nico’s freshman year.
Also sorry idk how to do the fancy Ao3 formatting other people do, this is my first time using it XD it ended up being almost 18k words, so I’ll probably be posting 1 chapter a day for the next week.
happy holidays @n-naturely !!! for the @pjosecretsanta2021!! heres ur pipabeth basketball rivals au >:3c (potential comic pending bc im in love w this concept) hope u enjoy!!
