im laughing bc nico @ toshi is homeless and if he and accelerator thread accel is going to like. adopt him the way he did qb and last order......
accelerator becomes a single teen dad Every Time
ok de-aged nico is really cute i'm so angry, but i can't stop thinking about everyone doting on nico stuck in a younger body but with his 14-year-old personality?? everyone is nico's older sibling and he just kind of tries to hide in the laundry basket.
ahaha they'd probably steer clear of him actually just with a splash of, "I'm sorry--I can't take you seriously with that baby face"
Leo would probably make jokes like, "Hey, you gotta go eat at the kiddy table"
and Nico's all "fuck you" and Hazel fans herself because she's never head a child speak with such lANGUAGE
Frank would still tread clear of him and try to be helpful but sucks
Percy's big brother instincts come out and Annabeth's maternal instincts come out and Nico hates them both
and Jason would probably toddle around after Nico like a big puppy making sure he's okay and offering piggy back rides while Nico's all "I hate being incapacitated"
A long fight was behind them. A war had been won, a storm had raged, a fire had blazed, and destruction was evident. But it was behind them now. And all any of them wanted was some happiness: something they hadn’t had in a long time.
So here they sat. Nine heroes were crowded around a campfire, exhausted and worn. Anyone who was eavesdropping expected to hear thoughts on the war, the battle, the losses.
They sat telling stories. There were happy stories, funny stories, quirky stories, and stories filled with every good memory from before. Reyna spoke about the lullabies her sister had sung when she was small. Leo smiled gently as he told about his mother and her old tool shop. Hazel reminisced on her first time riding a horse; she described it as “rushing, thrilling, and absolutely terrifying”.
On and on they went, story after story after story. Smiles were freely given and the sound of laughter was all around. Jokes were cracked and happiness was found once again.
But, soon enough, the area fell silent. No more stories were there to tell from any of the demigods. That is, except for one.
Nico di Angelo had not shared one detail. He had stayed silent, sitting there between Hazel and Reyna, whom he had grown close to, listening and offering a miniscule grin every once in awhile. He had stories to tell, of course. but he couldn’t quite bring himself to speak.
But the silence was deafening. The laughter had faded and everything was still and dark once more. That, mixed with the fact that Hazel was sitting to his right with a smile on her face that mirrored one that graced another sister’s face so many years ago, might have had a little to do with Nico opening his mouth to talk without thinking.
"Back when Bianca and I were little, after the Lotus Hotel and Casino and right before Westover, we went to a museum in DC. Charon (who we hadn’t known was Charon at the time, of course) had driven us there as a treat before we were shipped off to military school. I was small and too excited to notice much of anything, and Bianca was too busy keeping an eye on me to notice how much had changed.
"Charon basically let us travel around the museum as we liked, going wherever we wished to go. The first place Bianca insisted on seeing was the Ancient Greece exhibit. I had just collected my first Mythomagic figurine—a figurine of Poseidon. There was absolutely nothing that interested me more than mythology. That was back when Greek gods and monsters were just a far away fantasy, not an every day reality. Gods, I miss those days." He chuckled softly, his sunken, pale, sharp-edged features illuminated harshly by the light of the fire.
"The first thing we saw in that exhibit was a statue of Poseidon; it was the same one as my figurine but it was much, much bigger. I pointed to it excitedly, jumping all around with joy. Bianca just smiled wide as I threw out ridiculous facts about him." His voice became higher and his motions exaggerated. “‘He’s Poseidon! He rules over the seas and he made horses and he causes earthquakes! He lives under the water and he has a trident thing with three points! He has three thousand attack points! Three thousand, Bianca! This is so cool!’
"We walked around the exhibit for hours. Anytime Bianca suggested moving to another one, I protested, crossed my arms, and stamped my feet. She just sighed internally and continued to listen to my ramblings." He once again straightened his posture, put on a mocking childish smile, and raised his voice a few octaves. “‘That one’s Hades! He rules the Underworld! He has a three-headed hellhound named Cerberus! He’s Zeus and Poseidon’s brother and he’s got four thousand attack power! He can even have five thousand! (But only if his opponent attacks first of course.) His figurine is so rare! I bet I’ll never get it! If I ever do, it’ll cost a fortune!’" His demeanor darkened then, remembering the Hades figurine he kept hidden in his drawer, and the awfully high price that was paid to acquire it.
"That was one of the best times I’d had in years. There weren’t many memories to top that one. The only thing that comes to mind was that first Christmas at Westover. Bianca and I were some of the only kids to stay over the holidays, and the grey jail seemed even more prison-like when it was empty. The blindingly white snow was coming down harder than it had in a long time and the lights were flickering on, off, on, off as us remaining students sat by the fireplace, trying our best to escape the blizzard-esque storm.
"The fire wasn’t homely. It wasn’t like campfires. It wasn’t like sitting next to Lady Hestia with a feast. It wasn’t a true hearth. It was simple. It didn’t need to provide a feeling of home after all. It was…" he searched for the right word, finally finding it amidst his unorganized thoughts, "practical.
"But we tried our very hardest to make it seem like home. We hung up small stockings on the fireplace. We had a small, sparsely decorated tree. It wasn’t much, but it was all we had. And it was nice." The small that graced his pale face then was one of nostalgia and remembrance of a time when sorrow wasn’t quite so eminent.
"That sounds like a great Christmas, Nico," Hazel said.
"Oh, that doesn’t even begin to describe it. I remember feeling so… warm. I felt safe by my sister and the one friend I had made (though I can’t even remember his name now). Nothing could’ve hurt me, the way I felt right then. Absolutely nothing. Not Dr. Thorn, not Ms. Gottschalk, and most definitely not the blizzard that raged around our little bubble of happiness, joy. and warmth. I haven’t felt like that in quite some time.
"I felt like nothing could ever be better. That is, until I woke up the next morning.
"I hadn’t expected to get any presents that year. We didn’t have any family. It had always been just us. Bianca didn’t have any money to get presents. I had stopped believing in Santa by then. I wasn’t too upset about it because presents were a luxury we could never really afford.
"I woke up and Bianca and I went downstairs to spend Christmas next to the tree, no matter how pitiful the said tree was. But when we got downstairs, we found four presents underneath it. I still don’t know where they came from or why they were there, but two said ‘To Nico’ and two ‘To Bianca’. All of the ‘from’ portions had been left blank.
"What was inside them was wonderful. Toys and things that all the richer children had. Toys and things I could never dream of buying. And they were all wrapped up in four of the most beautiful presents I’ve ever seen. Magic. I believed it was magic. I thought maybe it was one of those Christmas miracles I’d heard so much about on those cheesy Christmas specials they play nonstop every year. All I knew was that I was thankful. I still am thankful.
"That’s the memory I think of most when people mention my sister. We were both so happy that day. I’ve always been happiest on Christmas because of that. I still have the presents."
His story ended there and everyone was silent once again. No one stepped in to tell any more stories and slowly they all trickled off to bed, each going reluctantly for fear of nightmares.
Nico was the last one left and, eventually, he slowly made his way to bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. For once, he had no nightmares. Instead, he dreamed of Mythomagic, museums, memories, warmth, a loving smile, and a Christmas miracle.
queerchihiro replied to your post:every time i see a post about octavian being a...
you mean ppl used to think he *wasn’t* a pisschild??? how
oh, they did. but they just didnt know it. the term is spreading. everyone in the fandom shall soon acknowledge him as the ultimate pisschild. the pisslord
