#Michael yew

[catquenn]

The battle of Manhattan #7

A.k.a one of the saddest events in series

Percy mf Jackson who have watched multiple of his friends, and ex-friends die, ON HIS FUCKING BIRTHDAY, the love of his life get stabbed for him,and who till today blames himself for so many deaths!

#my poor little baby #perce deserves better #percy jackson #luke castellan #ethan nakamura #charles beckendorf #lee fletcher #michael yew #silena beauregard #annabeth chase #percabeth

[guardianspirits13]

It's been 7 long years.

The final season of Percy Jackson and the Olympians has just begun to release.

The Ares and Apollo cabins are in a dispute over ownership for the flying chariot.

The counselors sit around a table in the Big House.

Percy has just learned that he's (probably) gonna die in the next month, when Clarisse and Michael begin to bicker. Percy has had it up to here.

He starts clapping rhythmically. There is a lull in the room as they stare at him.

He claps faster.

"Oh golly, the road's getting bumpy, cause I've got me some friends who just can't get along-"

#im just saying. #this would be one HELL of a callback #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo tv #pjo spoilers #pjo tv spoilers #the consensus song #the last olympian #percy jackson #clarisse la rue #michael yew

[irishskeptic]

Michael Yew is one of my favourite minor characters in pjo because the Apollo cabin is portrayed as all smiles and easygoing campers, and then you have this ratty faced, scrappy little 4’6 guy, with a temper to rival Clarisse La Rue, a devil may care attitude towards the titan war, he laughs in the face of death, and he just got put in charge as head councillor of cabin 7

#no beta we die like michael yew #percy jackson #michael yew #clarisse la rue #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #pjo fandom #riordanverse #misc skeptic thoughts

[losergender]

will ranting to nico in a very intimate, soft, vulnerable moment about how michael would have loved him. about how they shared music taste and aesthetic, and how michael would have taught nico all about the punk and goth subcultures, and how he would have gifted nico shirts and CDs and how he would have loved him from the moment will walked into cabin 7 with him and would have told him nico was perfect for him!

nico has talked to michael's ghost before, after the war, and he knows michael thought he was cool and would have been a good friend with him. he already knows everything will is saying, but he can't bring himself to tell him because there's nothing like hearing him talk about his passed-away siblings with a voice that sounds more like love than like grief.

#will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #solaneglo hcs #michael yew #pjo #pjo hoo toa #hoo #toa

[mediumgayitalian]

rip to michael yew u would have loved meg mccaffery

#identical levels of twerp #god they would have terrorized camp fr #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #toa #pjo hoo toa #canon seven #michael yew #meg mccaffrey

[heresronnie21]

I forgot to post them! The Apollo kids! The grandbabies!

#trials of apollo #cabin 7 #will solace #austin lake #kayla knowles #lee fletcher #michael yew #toa yan #toa Gracie #toa Jerry

[aroaceleovaldez]

why are PJO characters most consistently measured in scales of Michaels?

Like. this is some of the most specific height information we have out of most characters, besides maybe Percy being an inch shorter than Jason. The Michaels Scale...

#pjo #riordanverse #nico di angelo #michael kahale #michael yew #clarisse la rue #this is some of the most specific numbers we get #also for the record i did the math and inferring based on multiple factors #(average height of a 13 year old boy / average height in 1930s italy) #so implications are: a.) Nico is absolutely never gonna break 5'6''. he is probably 5'2'' at best in HoO #and b.) presuming that. the math does add up that in comparison Michael Kahale is about 5'8'' which would put him at ~50lb heavier than Nic #with the *generous* estimate that Nico is like 120lb. which is average for 5'2'' #but knowing that Nico weighs like. Nothing. he is Skin and Bones. lets guesstimate that Nico is 120 soaking wet. hes probably closer to 110 #i do too much math for these books. anyways enjoy that. wiki i want the heights updated with sources on my desk by tomorrow /j

[luriuan]

Imagine being Percy In last Olympian.

His partner in crime gets blown up and he lives but other guy doesn’t.

He finds out he’s destined to die painfully (or he thinks he is).

One of his closest friends calls him a coward

He trust some kid and then he gets turned into hades (hades. The same guy who sent a fury or all THREE after him and kidnapped his mother to use as a bargaining chip when he was twelve.) and then hes locked in a cell. He gets panicked and attacks the kid. (And also take care of him later and keep him out of danger.)

He gets forced to become a war general and leader at the rotting old age of 15, almost sixteen.

His best friend/crush gets stabbed for him and he blames himself.

There’s a traitor.

The traitor dies infront of him, the gf of the guy who died before.

He has to fight a war for the three days leading up to his birthday.

He has to fight Kronos.

He has to watch as the first person to truly welcome him to camp stabs himself and dies infront of him just mere seconds after he turns sixteen.

Sweet sixteen I guess.

#percy jackson and the last olympian #percy jackson and the olympians #Percy Jackson #PJO #nico di angelo #this is NOT Nico slander I love him #perseus jackson #annabeth chase #silena beauregard #clarrise la rue #michael yew #grover underwood #I love Percy #he was going THROUGH it this entire book #Percy Jackson defender #percy jackon and the olympians #percy I would die for you #kronos #give him a break #and a hug #and some rest

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

UPDATED 1/29/24

this was inspired by @lubble-underscore's post and I decided to expand on the iceberg and see how much I could throw on it

thanks to the Discord server for filling in on things that didn't cross my mind! :D

feel free to save and highlight what you know :3 Links to many of these things are below - some are not tho!

Tier 1 - do we even need to SAY anything?

pathetic little meow meow

bisexual

unreliable narrator

Tier 2 - surface level/easy to see

superiority/inferiority complex

bitchsexual (i mean... points to commodus)

raised chiron (see CHB Confidential)

Tier 3 - complete read-through/reread; taking first steps into fandom

breaks cycle of abuse

polldona

great with kids, actually (see Harley, Georgie, ect.)

ordered pizza to chb (see The Hidden Oracle)

domains contradict

best godly parent

still heavily affected by past lovers (see The Whole Series)

Tier 4 - digging a little deeper

love life isn't actually terrible

definitely tried to bang frey at least once (see that One throwaway line in The Hidden Oracle)

malewife malewhore manslaughter

broke up the beatles because paul jilted him (Discord)

sees the faces of primordial gods (see The Hidden Oracle)

copollo could have worked

catboy but cats are competition (See The Tyrant's Tomb; submitted by @trials-of-apollo-my-beloved)

freakishly high pain tolerance (See THE ENTIRE SERIES)

Tier 5 - holy shit we're on to something

that apollo & jesus fic (Discord)

knew hades had kids in TTC

pressured to be the perfect son

fatal flaw is love

not as close to hermes as he used to be

seahorsed kayla

patron of CHB

roman apollo au (Discord: Creator chronictheorizing)

Tier 6 - wait what. OH!

was forced to punish halcyon green

deathsong (Discord: Creator @txny-dragon) (addition)

kids are greek & roman

michael yew is most like him

brings change by being his true self and not the fake one (Submitted by @/txny-dragon)

laomedon is why he hates slavery (Discord: Creator @ukelele-boy)

intentionally made the orientation video to communicate info on the gods

Tier 7 - what the fuck did we get ourselves into

directed travis & conner to tartarus tongs

Apollo x Orion is peek hateship (Discord: Origin in Tsari's server during Eclipse)

unlocked heavenly prophecy powers during trials

dated oscar wilde and inspired the picture of dorian gray (Discord)

half-titan theory

tartarus regenerated him

imperial kids were meant to usurp the olympians

Tier 8 - we're in too deep but will never come out

knows estelle is omen of end of the world

#the trials of apollo #toa memes #iceberg #trials of apollo #apollo #pjo apollo #toa apollo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson and the olympians #the heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #kayla knowles #estelle blofis #toa commodus #pjo commodus #pjo hermes #camp half blood #camp jupiter #michael yew #travis stoll #connor stoll #halcyon green #thalia grace #luke castellan #pjo chiron #copollo #pjo ouranos #pjo gaea #polldona #arrow of dodona

[thestarstoasun]

Possibly a hot take, but I think the Tartarus trip actually helped Will a lot. Obviously I have my disappointments with the book, but we do not only see Nico healing from the copious amount of trauma Rick fit into him; we get to see Will come to terms with darker parts of himself.

It's canon/very heavily implied (I can't remember and don't feel like looking it up) he came to camp at a very young age, younger than campers that aren't deemed "powerful" or have a strong scent. Despite Will thinking he isn't strong, he is the best healer Camp Half Blood has seen in, what we can assume, at least a century. He's a year-rounder, so he hasn't experienced life on the outside in years. Hell, until Trials of Apollo, his godly parent hardly took notice of him.

His older brothers and other siblings were his biggest supporters and motivators. They looked out for him and took care of him in place of a parent, specifically the older kids (Lee and Michael.) And he lost them during the Dark Prophecy - less than 2 years apart from each other. He didn't even get to search for Michael because Percy took him for a joyride across Manhattan on a motorcycle to help Annabeth.

Even after all of that, its implied/seen that he's someone who is always looking on the bright side of things, never making anything about himself, always helping others, etc. He's a ray of sunshine in everyone's life, never allowing himself to show anyone that he's hurting or suffering because he feels like he just can't. After all, he's Will Solace. He is the head medic, the infirmary can't just stop running. He's the counselor for cabin, his siblings need him to be strong.

He represses his negative emotions, even admits to it in Trials of Apollo. I think he represses them to a point he can avoid/ignore them or pretend they aren't his. It's easier to be a ray of sunshine in people's lives if the negativity and darkness you feel are projected onto someone else.

These tendencies are also something that causes strain in Nico and Will's relationship, because Nico doesn't understand how Will can't see how hypocritical he is. When in reality, Will does know, but it's easier if he avoids it. Ignorance is bliss after all. This doesn't mean Will doesn't work on trying to let Nico in, because he does, sort of.

On bad days, the days when he wakes up and wants nothing more than to curl up in the arms of his older brothers, he would go to Nico's cabin. However, his only explanation would ever be, "im tired." It frustrated him just as much as it upset Nico. He wasn't even sure if his boyfriend could tell. (Nico could, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.)

In Persephone's garden, he was forced to face the fact that there is darkness/negativity/hurt inside of him. He can't deny it when it's right in front of him, so he finally has to stop repressing everything, stop running away, and face his pains.

#tbh i cant tell when this went from character study opinion to headcanons #i just start typing and words show up #im proud of this though #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #the sun and the star #heroes of olympus #persephone #trials of apollo #michael yew #lee fletcher #apollo cabin #percy jackson #annabeth chase

[ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghg]

My designs for the apollo cabin wooooo!

(Feel free to criticize for my art lol i wont get hurt)

(I'm making the big three kids next)

#pjo #Will Solace #Kayla Knowles #Lee Fletcher #Michael Yew #Austin Lake #Hoo #Toa #Tsats

[robin-squad]

Will lost his older brother in battle, Percy was the one who caused the bridge collapse that killed him, and they couldn't find his body...

Nico lost his older sister while she was on a quest, Percy promised to try his best to protect her, and they couldn't find her body..

So Percy thinks they both hate him bc of this, and imagine when he comes to camp & sees Nico and Will together and he's like "I thought you guys were JOKING about making a 'Percy couldn't find our older siblings bodies' club - oh wait your dating???"

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #percy jackson #pjo #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #bianca di angelo #michael yew #percy jackson and the olympians #the titans curse #the last olympian

[mrkeatingsblazer]

Okay the twink Apollo joke is funny but HEAR ME OUT❗️❗️

Apollo and his children are very masculine. He’s the god of masculine beauty OF COURSE THEY WOULD BE. They come off as incredibly youthful but masculine all the same.

They are very lean, tall with strong jawlines EVEN THE GIRLS. Not one child of Apollo is under 5’8 don’t even try and argue with me. They are agile and swift so they aren’t bulky by all means. Apollo kids remind me of what Achilles would have been (ironic since Apollo would tear his hair out to have his children be compared to the likes of him).

APOLLO KIDS ARE JUST SO BEAUTIFUL

Will Solace is one of hottest characters in PJO and he doesn’t get enough recognition.

#Apollo kids are just so underrated #‘Michael was short’ no he wasn’t #Apollo #child of Apollo #Apollo cabin #will solace #pjo #michael yew #Nico di angelo #the sun and the star #pjo trials of apollo

[freddie-77-ao3]

Clarisse: Guns can kill. Knives can kill Michael, *holding Will*: Even small children, launched at great speed, can kill Lee: NO

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #riordanverse #pjo series #pjo fandom #incorrect quotes #william andrew solace #william solace #will solace #lee fletcher #clarisse la rue #michael yew

[mediumgayitalian]

part two

———

Getting outrun for seven miles by an eight year old is a uniquely humbling experience. Compactly humiliating, coincidentally, is being outrun by an eight year old while dragging along a bouquet large enough that it cannot be adequately contained with two hands and must therefore be carried between two people.

Lee is having something of an afternoon.

“It starts in seven minutes!” shouts Will, at least twelve solid yards ahead of them and running backwards. He does not appear even to be sweating. “Hurry!”

“Could not be hurrying more if I tried,” Lee wheezes.

(It’s not that Lee isn’t a good runner. He is. It’s that Will is freakishly fast, because he has dimples when he smiles and has endeared himself to the dryads, who have been teaching him how to sprint like the hopped up little Energizer Bunny he is. Michael has been calling him Soda Boy for ages, on account of how he so closely resembles a can of pop that has been vigorously shaken, which he hates. Remembering it brings Lee some peace.)

“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

Clamping his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to preserve energy, Lee surges forward. Michael matches him, having to run significantly faster to keep up with his long legs. Their panting forms a discordant melody of despair. Poetic.

When they stumble through the door, chests heaving, Lee considers collapsing to the ground and weeping for joy. He will never run again. If a monster chases him, he will simply fight or accept his fate. He has reached his quota.

But, for perhaps the first time in his life, there is no time for dramatics. The lobby is devoid of the massive crowds it held earlier, shadows eerie in their absence, and only the final tail end of a line shuffles through the stage doors.

Despite his internal vow, Lee sprints forward to catch up with them.

“Hold it,” says a man in a venue volunteer! vest, holding up a hand. He glances at them, resting his gaze on Will’s messy hair, Michael’s scuffed shoes, Lee’s wrinkled shirt, and pausing for quite a while on the giant bouquet. The narrowed eyes and thinned lips are familiar. Lee stiffens.

“Go on in,” the man says to the middle aged couple in front of them, who’s crease-free jackets read ‘Dance Mom’ and ‘Prop Team Dad’ respectively. He shoos them inside, complimenting the honest-to-Apollo corsage in the woman’s hand, chortling along to the man’s joke. The laughter drops from his face the second the couple is guided through the doors, and the man turns back to the three of them.

“The show,” he says, nose upturned, “has begun. I can’t let anyone else in lest they cause any…disturbances.”

“The show starts on three minutes and forty-seven seconds!” Will protests, sticking his watch in the man’s face. Completely oblivious to his murderous look, he continues, “Forty-six seconds! Forty-five! Time’s-a-tickin’, let us in!”

The man bares his teeth in a smile. “Regrettably, you are too late. You’ll have to wait for the intermission.”

Will blinks at him. He looks at Lee, at the doors, then back at the man.

“But…we’re on time. And if we come back later, we’ll miss my sister’s dance!”

The man shrugs. “This will be a valuable lesson, then.” He purses his lips, glancing again at the bouquet. “Perhaps be more prepared, next time.”

Will turns back to Lee and Michael, crestfallen. He swipes quickly under his eyes, squeezing his thumb into fists, but the tears well up anyway. “We’re going to miss it?”

Michael snarls. In one quick move he shoves the massive bouquet entirely into Lee’s arms, yanks Will by the shoulders to stand behind him, and gets right in the man’s face.

“You listen here, you slimy ratbag, you had no fuckin’ trouble letting those last scragglers in so you better clean up your act quick before I —”

A loud crashing noise makes them all jump, interrupting him. Nearly crushing the flowers, Lee whips towards the source of the sound. One of the competition banners has been yanked down, metal frame collapsing on the tile floor. Fastening screws rattle to a slow stop beside it.

“What the —”

Another banner crashes to the floor. This time, the little hands that tore it down are a touch too slow to dart away, a blonde head not quick enough to duck behind a corner.

“Hey!” the man shouts. Shoving Michael aside, and moving quicker than Lee can think to stop him, he sprints towards the corner Will disappeared behind. “Get back here! You can’t do that!”

Lee curses, trying to manoeuvre the flowers to see and run at the same time. Michael runs ahead of him, on the man’s heels, chanting shit shit shit shit under his breath. Lee’s brain takes the initiative to alternate, chanting fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck every time he takes a breath.

They’re going to get kicked out for sure. Diana is going to kill them and it’s going to be justified, because Lee is going to have to live with the noble look he knows Cass will have on when she realises they’re not there to watch. The shakey, practiced smile she’ll slap over the disappointment in her dark eyes.

Shit shit shit shit indeed.

“Lee! Michael! Over here!” whispers a voice. Lee whirls around to face it — boy does he ever feel like a puppet on a stick right now — and, for the second time in as many minutes, feels his head pound at the disorienting frenzy of emotions that bubble up when he sees his baby brother’s face. Will stands half inside a doorway Lee hadn’t noticed on the way in, tucked in the shadow of a corner.

He is fast, holy shit.

“What the hell are you doing,” hisses Michael.

“Getting us inside! Hurry up!”

Lee doesn’t need further prompting, clock ticking in his brain. Gods, how long do they have left? Thirty seconds? Less?

“Most big theatres have sideline entrances,” Will explains after Michael helps shove the giant bouquet through the tiny door. He guides them, upright to their hunching, down a tight corridor. “They’re for performers to pop up in the audience without being seen. Mama and I race each other to find ‘em when she did shows.”

Lee had forgotten, for a moment, how much of his life Will has spent in and out of theatres, bars, stages. Naomi Solace has been growing more and more famous since…half of his life, at least. Lee remembers hearing about her four years ago, when she’d done a smaller show in Queens. A friend of his had gone.

Michael reaches out and tugs the mostly-undone ponytail he’d wrestled Will’s hair into that morning. “Good job, kid.”

He grins over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

They stumble into the darkened audience in the nick of time. The second Lee steps out of the cramped little corridor, dragging the stupid flowers (he is, in fact, regretting his choices at this point in time; when he has a free moment he will add this to the list of reasons he will be kicking his past self’s ass if the Hephaestus cabin successfully recreates DeLorean time machine) along with him, the stage lights come on. An announcer’s voice calls out, “Entry 109, Competitive Open Solo: Cass Hasapi.”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters. A quaint family of four gasps. He sneers at them. “Fuck, you see Diana?”

“No, is she maybe —”

“I think that’s her hair —”

“That person is way too tall, what are you —”

“I swear to the gods, I am going to kill you both,” whispers a beautifully familiar voice, and then Lee is being dragged. “Sit the hell down and shut the hell up. Will, baby, c’mere.”

Will climbs happily over the two empty seats, settling onto Diana’s lap and curling under her chin. He sticks his tongue out when Lee and Michael follow in behind him, struggling with the bouquet, muttering about favouritism.

“I’ve literally known you for six times longer than you’ve known him,” Michael mutters, sticking his tongue out right back. A grandmother with a severe bob whirls back and hushes him.

“Yeah, I’ve had all that time to get tired of your bullshit. Shut up.”

Before Michael can retort — Lee is sure he has an eloquent and devastating response, Lee has been helping him practice — soft piano drifts out from the speakers. A light turns on, pointed at the stage.

All four of them snap their mouths shut.

In the centre of the stage, Cass stands, poised. Her back is turned to the audience, arms extended above her and tilted to the right, as if reaching for the setting sun. Her hair, braided loosely back, brushes the edge of her thickly draping purple costume. Her knees are bent and locked and one bare foot sticks out like she’s trying to balance herself, like she’s mid fall.

A gravelly, male voice sings lowly along to the piano. How do you know which time might be the last? She moves along the dip of his voice, dragging her limbs through the rigid air. What I would give just to see you again? She moves with a swooping twist of her heels, twisting at the waist. Under the heat of the stage lights, her face contorts, forehead deeply wrinkled, mouth parted, breathing quickly. I’d walk to the depths of a world down below and demand to get back what some circumstance stole. She holds herself with such tension that Lee finds his own shoulders hiking up to his ears. Her chest moves rapidly, hands shaking, knees buckling. His breath goes stale in his lungs.

When the chorus starts, hard and heavy and sudden, I turned back one last time just to prove you were there, Cass hits the floor. He gasps with the rest of the audience, clutching the plush armrest, but it’s intentional, part of the dance. ‘Cause the last ray of sun made Eurydice cold. Collapsed on the floor, limbs bent, dress askew, she crawls, begging, towards the audience. Did she know? Did she know? Did she know? Did she know?

Cass does not move gracefully. She moves like a beached, gasping siren dragging herself back to the depths, like someone climbing out of a pit. Every movement looks heavy and painful. She looks at the audience and Lee is surging forward before he can stop himself, breath hitching, brain screaming: help her! help her! help her!

If I knew how it’d feel back then, I wouldn’t take another step.

Her body twists again, hair escaping her loose braid and sticking to her neck, her forehead. She claws at her throat like she’s suffocating, eyes accusing everyone watching like they’re holding her under. Each movement of her arms swell and sway on the beat, bare feet slapping the ground with every hit of the kettle drum. If you can see me it’s all in your head, but it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then.

Everything ends.

The piano fades out, the drums hit their last beat. All that’s left is the wretched guitar, taught like strings snapping, taught like the tense pull of her suspended muscles.

But I opened the door and went down the stairs; I turned back one last time to prove you were there.

As the last word fades, she drops. Not slowly, not evenly, but like whatever was holding her up crumbled to dust. Like she was shot. Her purple dress pools out around her like dark Hyacinth. She lays completely, entirely still.

The lights cut. The air in the audience goes heavy.

They come back on and no one says a word. Lee realises, as it drips onto his hands, that he is crying. Diana is, too, tear tracks too fresh to dry on her face, and Will is leaned forward so far he sways precariously. Michael’s hands are pressed harshly to his eyes.

Trancelike, Lee stands. All eyes snap, abruptly, towards him, but he ignores them. He looks straight across the rows of chairs and locks eyes with his sister, upright now, heaving, standing hesitant. She looks at him, and then beside him at Michael, and then at Will in Diana’s lap. They scramble quickly up next to him, and without any of them saying anything, they begin to cheer.

Cass’s face lights up.

With permission, much of the audience claps. No one stands as they do and as they continue hooting and hollering the claps fade quickly, replaced with stares and murmurs, but Cass still stands there, beaming, looking away and looking back like she can’t believe they’re there. That someone is there, that someone watched her, her, from beginning to end. A hand tugs on his sleeve.

“Can I sonic?” Will asks, raising his voice to be heard.

“Level four,” Lee allows.

He needs no further permission, grinning. He lets out a piercing whistle that makes everyone around them shout in alarm and Lee’s ears ring. But Cass laughs, loud and bright, so it’s worth it, and when Will looks at him in question he nods. The second whistle is definitely beyond a level four, but Lee doesn’t care. Cass looks the happiest he’s seen in a long time.

———

None of them care too much about staying for the other performances. But Cass has two more dances with her studio classes, spread out as they are, so Lee remains doomed to two hours of an aching ass and performances that come nowhere near Cass’s masterpiece. Will seems intrigued, though, by some of the pieces, so he grits his teeth and bares it. Besides, the rolled eyes he shares with Diana and Michael every time someone does something exceedingly cliche or tries and fails at depth (someone, often, being one of Cass’s teammates, shocker) makes it somewhat worth it.

By the time the judges call the last entry, though, Lee is ready to book it out of there.

The lights come back on and pop music plays through the speakers as dancers, in track suits over their costumes, congregate on the stage. Lee stands and stretches, letting Will stand on his shoulders and jump off into Michael’s arms to get some of his energy out. (And, also, ‘cause tossing a small child between them is fun. Diana jogs into the aisle so they can throw farther, but they all decide against it when a security guard glances over.)

After what feels like eight million years, the judges finally lumber over to the stage. The building voices hush as they climb the steps, standing in front of the gathered studios with cabled mics and stacks of foreboding envelopes.

“Welcome, dancers and families,” starts one judge.

She blabs on for several minutes about what an honour it was to judge and how wonderful everyone was. Blah, blah, blah. Lee spaces out about the time Diana’s eyes glaze over, and he looks instead to the gathered stage, observing. There are five different studios that he can see, each with about forty to fifty dancers. Mostly young women. They sit tangled together, legs on legs, arms around shoulders, feet tucked under thighs. Cass, he notices, sits on her own, at the very back of the stage. She sits straight-backed and proud, though. Chin lifted, braid resting over her shoulder.

Impossible to miss.

Two of her group dances win Diamond (Diana explains to them that this is Very Good. She thinks). Most others do not get this honour. Lee notices especially the older couple to their left looking quite sour. The glee he feels is indescribable.

“The winner for our open solo, for all age groups, was actually unanimous. It’s been a while since that happened!”

A girl near the front of the stage, who Lee recognises as the one to make a cruel joke about Cass’ mother, preens. Her solo was boring as hell. He’s not sure what she’s so smug about.

“With a score of 97.6, congratulations to Entry 109, Cass Hasapi!”

The four of them scream like lunatics.

They don’t even wait for scattered applause. Each one of them clambers up on the pristine chairs, covering them with scuff marks, and yell at the top of their lungs, jumping and cheering like chimps in a cage. Cass goes red, but she can’t hide her smile as she stands and accepts her award, grinning over at them. Michael holds up his camera and snaps a photo of her, pink-cheeked and wild-haired, glowing.

———

“Cass!”

Will sees her before the rest of them, sprinting towards the changeroom doors at top speeds and leaping up into her arms. She catches him easily, spinning them both around, pressing a thousand kisses to his hair and face.

“Hello, my darling! Hello hello hello!” Every word is punctuations with a kiss, or rather a press of her wide smile to anywhere she can reach. In seconds his cheeks are stained with her lipstick. “Oh, it has been weeks, darling boy, I missed you!”

Will clings to her sweater, face buried in the crook of her neck. She holds him just as tightly.

(Will has seen Cass more than Lee, in the past few months. He knows she’s made a few sudden trips to camp. But he also knows that she was the first one to welcome him into camp, the day his mother dropped him off, and when he was claimed she was the first to bring him home. She loves to tote him around, too, to have him trail after her for cabin inspections, holding the clipboard, or paint his nails when she’s bored. He misses her something fierce in the winters. She holds on tightly when she comes back home.)

Squeezing him one last time, she turns to the rest of them. Despite her wide smile, her mascara runs.

“You came,” she says, voice wobbling.

Michael clears his throat. “No shit.”

His voice wobbles, too.

“Come here, you goober.”

He’s the next to cling to her, inserting himself under her arm. She presses a kiss to his temple and he pinches her ribs, complaining, getting louder when she digs a knuckle into his hair. Diana jogs up and separates them, as she always does, flicking Michael on the forehead and pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, squeezing her hand.

Cass’s tears spill over again. “Thank you.”

Lee clears his throat. He feels, suddenly, like a doofus, holding a bouquet of flowers the size of him, but Cass looks at them and grins again, chuckling.

“You sell your kidney for that or what?”

Lee snorts. “No, we exchanged Will. This is a clone.”

“Did not!”

Lee blows a raspberry. “Did too. Clone.”

“I’m not a clone! I’m me!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ya-huh!”

“Alright,” Cass interrupts, rolling her eyes fondly. She kisses the tip of Will’s nose again and sets him down, turning towards Lee, hands outstretched dramatically. “Hand me my dues.”

Because she is, at the core of her, a true daughter of Apollo, even though the amount of poise and grace that bleeds from her at any given time contradicts almost directly with the guy who beams Pocketful of Sunshine directly into their brains at five in the morning every single day without fail, she kneels with a flourish. Because Lee is, at the core of him, also a child of Apollo, he goes unquestioningly along with the bit, pulling out one of the flowers to knight her before resting the entire bouquet in her arms. She has to hold it with both hands.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she says, grinning.

“They are ridiculous,” Diana stresses. “Dumbasses were damn near late getting this for you. They already had flowers, mind you. They’re just dumb.”

Will holds up his hand with his watch. “I kept us from being late!”

Diana squishes his cheek. “Thank you, sweetpea. You’re already smarter than your brothers combined.”

“Stick out your tongue again and I’ll grab it, you little snitch,” Lee warns.

Will, darting to hide behind Diana, does not heed his warning. Because he’s a little shit. bc

The walk out of the building in a gaggle of movement. As other dancers and their families walk by, glowering at Cass’ flowers and at Cass in general, Lee makes a point to catch their eyes. To smirk. To let them know, without saying a word — you were wrong. Of course you were wrong. Look at how she’s better than your bitter ass without even trying.

It warms him inside, truly.

“I’m thinking,” Diana says, walking back to the car, “that we stop at Dairy Queen on the way home. On Michael’s dollar. Will, look real excited so Michael can’t say no.”

“I am excited,” Will says, turning to face him, “so that’s real easy.”

Michael sighs. He taps his foot on the pavement, glaring. He sighs again. “You’re getting s plain cone and that’s that. You understand me?”

Will takes that as code for ‘begin negotiating’. Diana joins him, the two of them chasing Michael to the car, yelling about Blizzards and sundaes. Cass falls into step next to Lee, adjusting the flowers.

“So,” she says, shooting him a small smile.

“So,” he intones.

“Diana told me you snuck the boys out of camp.”

“…Yes.”

“Organised the whole trip, basically.”

“It wasn’t hard. I just told Michael to pack his shit and he listened, for once. So.”

“Lee.” She waits for him to open the trunk, letting him stuff the ridiculous flowers inside before facing him, grabbing his hands and squeezing. “Thank you.”

“I don’t —”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. How can he say it? How can he tell her about being fourteen and older than half the unclaimed kids in Hermes, still reeling over camp as a whole, and the fear that had dissipated from his chest when she stood in front of camp and said, firmly, he’s ours? About the hours she spent listening to him ramble about Pokémon, learning the game for him, mailing him cards she finds around? About the letters she sends him every week without fail, even though she’s swamped with her own shit, because she remembers the night he cried, months and years of being weird and lonely and unlike anyone else he knew? How can he explain the bubbling in his chest, the ache for her, because of her?

“Of course, Cass.”

She opens her arms and he falls into them, forehead on her shoulder, arms tight around her waist. She grips around his back, pressing a kiss to his hair. His throat is dry, choking back the thickness of his tears.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Lee.”

#AND WERE DONE #AND ITS FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING FUCK #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #lee fletcher #will solace #michael yew #diana mckinney #cass hasapi #cabin seven #my writing #fic #longpost #song is orpheus by vincent lima btw #pjo hoo toa

[kitkats-and-kittens]

Anyone ever think about Will Solace?

Anyone ever think about how he came to camp at 10 and was apparently a year rounder due to how dangerous the monsters where?

Anyone ever think about how at 12 he watched countless demigods along with his brother, die and wasn’t able to do anything about it?

Anyone ever think about how only a year later he went to war?

Anyone ever think about how he was a war medic at 13?

Anyone ever think about how he healed countless injuries but still couldn’t save everyone and had to watch almost all of his siblings die in the span of 3 days?

Anyone ever think about how he became head councillor at 13?

Anyone ever think about how only a year later he went through another war?

Anyone ever think about his feelings of inadequacy since he considers being a medic his only useful skill?

Anyone ever think about how he went to Tartarus at 16?

Anyone ever think about how he had to accept the bad parts and learn to love all aspects of himself?

Anyone ever think about how despite everything he went though at such a young age he continues to smile, to be optimistic and passionate about his boyfriend, his siblings, his dad?

Anyone ever think about Will Solace?

#percy jackson #gods #pjo #apollo #trials of apollo #will solace #the sun and the star #nico di angelo #battle of manhattan #michael yew #lee fletcher #I could write essays on this man #also confirming plague Will Solace in two lines and never bringing it up again was criminal Rick