Like Why Are My Muscles Trying To Leave My Body

But of course, he's not gay or anything (he definitely is)

Dean Winchester whenever he loses Castiel

Or both

call me nico di angelo the way i don’t have an eating disorder but i do have severely disordered eating

it’s so fucking funny to me that the di angelos were canonically raised catholic. maria di angelo fucked a pagan god at least twice and then was like alright kids let’s go to church

shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup

I like the idea that Nico is the only demigod (aside from his own children) Dionysus bothers calling by the right name.

“Nico, your boyfriend—Wallace, right?—was looking for you.”

“Nico and Wilhelm are the most tolerable of all of the couples at this gods forsaken camp.”

“Nico, Peter, and Judas, you can’t sit together for meals.”

*looks at books* too tired for you *looks at films* too tired for you *looks at art supplies* too tired for you *eyes fall on tumblr* oho ho

My will solace headcanons!

• He starts glowing when he's really really excited !

• The glowing is actually pretty bright

• No like it gets really bright sometimes

• it hurts everyone's eyes

• like a lot

• it's blinding actually

• Okay.. can someone get him to stop

• Like right now. The young campers are crying

• Someone please stop him

leo and jason but they actually met before gaea

a young jason, having to venture outside of camp for the first time for a quest, running face first into a boy in the middle of the streets. hes scrawny and scruffy and not fit to be a true roman, but his fingers move quicker than his rapidfire mix of curses, apologies, and insults as he picks up the things that fell out of his backpack in the collision.

a young leo, running away from yet another home, colliding with a boy that acts like hes the first human hes seen in months. he's not sure whether to be annoyed or confused as the boy questions him on the very basic contents of his bag with his head tilted like some sort of stupid golden retriever. the new kids accent is thick, one he could barely understand, but he tries to answer the dumb questions as best he can.

jason follows leo, deciding the new boy to be his guide in an unfamiliar world. he shows him new and interesting things, colorful and exotic things he's never seen before. new places, new people. jason decides he must be divine in some way. he's distraught when he finishes the quest and has to leave. leo shared things jason could barely fathom, then it was yanked away, leaving a burning hole in his mind and heart and scalding marks on the hands he had guided.

leo leads jason, which was not his intention at first. he shows him normal things, the places where the security cameras or locks are broken, the place where the staff gives him freebies, the public library with computers you could play and code games on, all things leo had known about for years, but jason stares at him like a worshipper stares at a god, filled with awe and adoration. he wakes up one day, and jason isn't there anymore, leaving nothing but a fleeting memory, brushed away with the wind.

Draw Penelope loving Odysseus as a worm

please

On the second or third day of the Battle of Manhattan honestly, Will Solace couldn’t tell anymore. The memories of those days blurred together like a smeared painting. All he knew was that he had genuinely believed he would die there. Not in some noble, heroic blaze of glory, but clobbered to death by a cyclops wielding a giant wooden club, far enough from his siblings—dead or alive—that none of them would see it happen.

He still remembered holding the limp hands of little Kylie from Demeter, ten years old, obsessed with flowers and Star Trek—even though he’d spent way too much time arguing that Star Wars was superior. Her hands were cold, slick with blood. Her glazed-over eyes stared at nothing, lost in the fog of shock and blood loss.

Will had reached inside himself, instinctively trying to summon healing magic like he always did. But there was nothing. Just emptiness. His usual reserve was gone bone dry, like a well in the middle of a desert long since forgotten.

Most of his siblings were dead now, except for Austin, Kayla, and Jasmine. There used to be twelve of them. Two never made it off the Williamsburg Bridge. The rest were taken by monsters in the chaos of the city streets.

Travis Stoll had been assigned to guard the medics by Jasmine,  head counselor now, by default. But he was busy fending off another cyclops. That left Will, defenseless, magicless. kneeling in a pool of blood, trying to tie a tourniquet on Kylie’s leg with trembling hands.

Guess we’ll all be partying in Elysium together, Will thought grimly, watching the shadow of the club rise over him.

Then, impact never came.

Nico di Angelo burst from the shadows like a knife through smoke. All sharp angles and shadows, the son of Hades was silent and fast, his Stygian Iron sword catching no light from the burning sun. He danced around the cyclops with eerie precision, dodging its every swing, slashing at tendons and knees. The club never touched him. He moved like a blade himself, calculated, deadly. And finally, with one clean thrust, he brought the monster down and finished it off, its body dissolving into dust with a hiss.

Will stared, wide-eyed and a little breathless.

“Thank you,” he managed, cradling Kylie as Nico approached, sword still in hand, back to the sun. “I’d shake your hand, but…” He looked down at his blood-soaked arms. “As you can see, I’m a bit occupied.”

Nico gave a small nod, expression unreadable.

Will couldn’t stop looking at him. The black hair falling in uneven strands across his face, the tired eyes, the quiet way he moved like he was used to being forgotten. He was beautiful, broken-glass beautiful. And maybe it was the adrenaline, or the near-death experience, but Will felt something twist in his chest. Something warm. Something terrifying.

“You need anything else?” Nico asked, his voice quiet.

Will blinked out of it. Kylie was now staggering off toward the Empire State Building, a square of ambrosia clutched in her hand.

“No,” Will said. Then, impulsively: “Wait. If you ever… get hurt. Or need patching up or anything—I mean, obviously, I’m the best medic at camp.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “Obviously.”

“I’m just saying,” Will said quickly, trying not to sound too eager. “You can ask. I’d help. Any time.”

Nico gave a short, almost imperceptible nod, then turned, already melting back into the shadows.

Will watched him go, heart pounding, and wondered when exactly dying turned into falling in love.