✺ NOT PERFECT, AND NOT THE SAME ✺
(Y/N) pauses in the palace hallway, cocking her head at the ajar door to her temporary room. Quiet shuffling sounds from inside. Eyes narrowing, she stalks forward. Her fingers tense, and shadows begin to curl around her heels.
Nico swivels, eyes wide, when she pushes the door open. Hurriedly, he sets down the dagger that he'd been examining.
"Wait!" (Y/N) says, noticing how darkness begins to swarm around the boy. "Wait, it's okay."
He hesitates to shadow-travel, staring at her with apprehension.
"You can look at them. I don't mind." (Y/N) steps into the room, allowing a tentative smile to form on her lips. "Hell, I'll even show you how to use 'em."
The shadows surrounding Nico begin to thin.
"Really, I will. If you want," (Y/N) reinforces. She gestures to the dagger that Nico had taken a liking to. "That one was the first functional weapon I ever made. It was my . . . sixth, I think? . . . Yeah, sixth attempt, and it was the only one that actually held together." She chuckles, and the tension in Nico's shoulders loosens. But he stays quiet, and (Y/N) folds her lips inward.
She clasps her hands behind her back, taking an unsure breath. "I feel like we could have gotten off on a better foot."
Nico narrows his eyes, looking her up and down with scrutiny.
"It's pretty clear that you and my mom have some sort of beef," she explains, earning a frown, which she disregards, "but I hope that you and I can be friends. We'll probably be seeing a lot of each other, anyway, what with the . . . step-sibling situation."
Nico's sharp gaze softens. Something flashes behind his eyes, as if he were struck by a memory.
"So," (Y/N) continues, giving him a short wave, "hi. I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."
He examines her further before letting out a long exhale. "Nico di Angelo," he returns, scratching at the neckline of his aviator jacket.
Mentally, (Y/N) cheers and fist-pumps. Outwardly, she nods. "It's nice to officially meet you, Nico di Angelo."
Somewhat uncomfortably, Nico rocks back and forth on his feet. "My dad said that you're going to take me to a camp," he says, eyes trained on the floor. He clasps his hands in front of himself, and his knuckles pale as he fidgets with his fingers. "What's it like there?"
(Y/N) smiles. She moves to sit on the edge of her bed, and Nico shuffles back, keeping some distance between them. (Y/N) takes care not to react.
"Camp Half-Blood is . . . truly something," she says, measuring her words before voicing them. Nico tilts his head. "I grew up there. Lots of people visit over the summer. Some live there full-time. I stay primarily because it's my home, but others my age, people who could go to college or get on more with their lives . . . they stay for safety. Unfortunately, the world is dangerous for people like us. At the least, Camp Half-Blood allows us protection until we grow strong enough to protect ourselves. If you come back with me, you'll make friends and learn about our heritage, but you'll also learn how to fight against the threats that exist."
"Like a Manticore," Nico chimes. (Y/N)'s eyebrows shoot upward, surprised at his knowledge. "There was one at my school when Dad swooped in." His eyes go wide, almost awestruck, while he adds, "It has an attack power of three thousand. Do you play Mythomagic?"
(Y/N) blinks at the change in topic, but she shakes her head. "I haven't even heard of it," she says, fighting her chuckle at Nico's horrified expression.
"But it's the best game ever!"
She holds her hands up in surrender, an amused smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. "I guess you'll just have to introduce me. It sounds infinitely more interesting than Pinochle."
His face lights up with a grin. Satisfaction and pride bloom in (Y/N)'s chest, and she fights a grin of her own.
"Game or not, Manticores are nasty. That much, I know from experience. As are lots of other monsters. Have you run into any others yet?"
Nico's shoulders slump. "No. My sister, Bianca—she knew that she could fight them, but other than in Mythomagic, I never . . . Will you . . .? Will you be able to teach me?" He takes a small step forward, his hands squeezing each other so tightly (Y/N) could swear his skin would soon turn blue.
A sudden surge of protectiveness rushes through her. It was the same thing she'd felt when Grover and Annabeth and Will and Percy and so many others were brought to camp—when they were faced with the reality of their lifestyle and couldn't contain the fear they felt from not knowing how to live it. She'd felt that fear, too, when she was just four years old. The world and its dangers had been withheld from her, and she'd been thrust into them without so much as a warning.
It wasn't fair that the universe placed these burdens on innocent and unassuming people like that little girl. Like Nico, who'd had a life, a family, and had to give it up the moment he'd learned his truth.
Hoping to reassure him, she nods. "I can give you a head start, at least. But you'll catch on quickly."
"How can you be so sure?"
(Y/N) shrugs. "Half-bloods like you always do."
— x —
Nico swallows, looking apprehensively at the white arch that marks Camp Half-Blood's entrance. Just past it, the forest thins, and he peers closer. The protective Mist twinkles, falling out of view just enough for him to make out the structures and shapes that lie beyond the arch—signposts point out the different areas of the camp, colored paint peeling from the wood. Occasionally, the air flickers, almost glitching with blue light, as the barrier regenerates.
Nico looks at the sentry who guards a tall pine tree, and his confusion ebbs once he notices the object resting on its branches. Sunlight pokes through the forest canopy, and shimmering rays bounce off of the Golden Fleece's accents.
"You ready?" (Y/N) asks, looking down at him with a warm smile.
Nico clenches his jaw. His fists tighten and unfurl repeatedly within the pockets of his jacket. His ribcage thuds with the weight of his heartbeat.
He was afraid.
The thought of such an emotion makes him want to gag. He was Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, master of shadows, prince of the Underworld—and he was afraid of entering a summer camp. What was wrong with him?
Unfortunately, the world is dangerous for people like us.
Over the past week, as Hades had travelled back and forth between building Nico's cabin and tending to the Underworld, (Y/N) had warned Nico of what he would be stepping into if he decided to go with her. While they had peered at Mythomagic cards together or discussed the proper way to hold a weapon, she had told him her stories of quests and battles and losses and victories. Her tales reminded him of those that Bianca would share. Of heroes and villains, love and betrayal, magic and mystery.
Nico had always wanted to be a hero. To fight against evil and prove himself in the face of danger. But those were fantasies. He'd never expected it to actually happen.
There was no denying his excitement when he'd learned that his beloved game was something real; that he was as much a part of its world as it was part of his.
But that didn't mean he knew the implications.
Stepping into Camp Half-Blood, he realizes, means he would be stepping into the reality of living a half-blood's existence. He would train and learn and grow strong—but he would be doing all of it just to survive.
And he would be doing it all while unbelievably alone.
Bianca had always been at his side. She had always taken care of him, always gone out of her way to show just how dearly she held him in her heart. And then she had done something for herself, for the very first time.
She was with the Hunters of Artemis, and she was happy because of it—yet Nico cannot help but feel angry. Bianca had left him, and he had no way of knowing when he would see her again.
Not anger, Nico reminds himself, fighting the stinging in his eyes. He wasn't angry at her. He was sad. Because for so long, he could never imagine his life without her next to him. When they left Italy for America at the start of the war; when their mother died; when they were taken to the Lotus Hotel for what Nico assumed was only a month; when they were shocked into the changes of the new, developing world—Bianca was there.
And now, Nico had to accept that she had left his side to finally live her life for herself.
And he'd hated how (Y/N)'s smile and jokes and advice would open some part of his heart that had closed when Bianca said goodbye. He'd despised the way the room would grow lighter when he lost himself in his shared moments with (Y/N), so he would pull the shadows back and curse the way they receded in the first place. But as much as he tried, he couldn't fight how the corners of his lips would slowly lift while she told her stories, how his chest lightened with traces of happiness when he noticed a lilt in her voice similar to Bianca's.
Initially, warming up to her was concerning in itself. Because the moment she'd arrived in the Underworld, Nico knew that something was different about her. Almost wrong.
(Y/N) had been terrifying at first, emanating power so intense that Nico could feel it in the air, could see it flickering in her eyes. Shadows slunk around her ankles, lightning sparked in her gaze, humidity tickled the air. Everything about anything woke up.
Nico had stood before gods. He did it each day in the palace. But (Y/N)'s gifts displayed themselves in such a way that rivalled the feeling of divinity that he'd grown used to.
The Underworld was a realm of death, yet her presence made the entire palace feel more alive.
Nico had been expecting Persephone's half-blood daughter. He had been certain that she was like him—until he was met with the raw existence of power. She was practically a goddess in mortal form.
Until she had reached out to him. Showed the truth of her human heart and soul.
Bianca may not be with Nico right now, but he feels willing to accept that he still has a sister at his side. Step-sister, though she may be.
It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't the same—but (Y/N)'s smile was kind and her heart was in the right place.
The tension in Nico's hands and shoulders fades away.
He nods. "I'm ready."
(Y/N)'s grin widens. "Then welcome," she says, placing a hand on Nico's shoulder and walking with him through the magical barrier, "to Camp Half-Blood."
His cells seem to jolt awake, each of his nerves more alive than ever before. The air even smells sweeter, imbued and fragranced with the inexplicable touch of magic. Laughter shocks his ears, the hubbub of life from campers instantly making Nico's heart race with anticipation.
"Come on"—(Y/N)'s voice snaps him back to attention, and he blinks quickly upon realizing just how wide his eyes are. She motions for him to join her on a path, and Nico glances at the sign that marks it as the way to a 'Big House'.
"There are some people you should meet before I give you the full tour and let you get settled in your cabin," she explains. Nico looks around while she speaks. "Chiron is our camp administrator. Dionysus, a.k.a. Mr. D, says that he's the camp administrator, but he doesn't really do anything of importance. Please don't tell him I said that."
"Mr. D is the wine dude, right?" Nico asks, and (Y/N) chuckles.
"Yep."
"He's got the weakest god card," he continues, hugging his jacket closer to himself against the air's chill. "He only has five hundred attack points."
(Y/N) hums, her nose slightly scrunched. "I remember. But you might not wanna tell him that," she says. She lowers her voice, adding in an exaggerated whisper, "He can get offended pretty easily." A camper walks past, and (Y/N) waves at them with a smile.
"Oh." Nico's steps falter when the same camper smiles at him, and his brain seems to stop working before he musters the consciousness to nod back in acknowledgement. Noticing how (Y/N) slows her pace, waiting for him to rejoin her side, he quickens his steps. "I think his powers are pretty sweet, though."
"Well, definitely don't tell him that," (Y/N) says, laughing. "You'll inflate his ego, and none of us want that to happen."
Again, Nico finds himself beginning to smile. He allows it, but his mouth falls slightly open in awe when he is met with the beauty of someone who enters his vision. He has to take a moment to realize that the boy isn't a god.
His stride radiates confidence and power, and understandably so—while his tall, lean build remains covered in a long-sleeved shirt and pants, Nico can still see the way this half-blood's muscles flex beneath the fabric. The air visibly ripples around him, and Nico can feel vibrations run under his feet, as if the boy's power was so strong that the elements were acting under his influence but without his command. His eyes seem to glimmer with piercing blue light.
His raw power, even at such a distance, could nearly rival that of the girl standing right beside Nico.
"And this is the Big House," (Y/N) says, her voice muffled and distant as Nico stares at the half-blood walking away from the sky-blue building. Even in his awestruck state, however, he catches the shift in her tone.
He closes his mouth and forces himself back to attention, noticing the way that (Y/N)'s bright gaze now swirls with shadow. Sorrow, Nico realizes.
He saw those eyes each day in the mirror.
She swallows, her expression relaxing, as the other half-blood grows nearer. Nico turns to him.
Something inside of his heart hurts when he starts to see the emotions within those sea-green eyes.
Because they weren't looking at him. They were looking at her.
Nico glances between the boy and (Y/N), the space between them growing smaller and smaller, step by step—and he can practically see the thread that extends between them, reeling them closer to each other. And despite the confident set of (Y/N)'s shoulders, despite the neutrality plastered on the boy's face, Nico notices the pained adoration that seeps through their expressions.
"Percy," (Y/N) greets, a small smile on her face, and the boy comes to a stop. "How was your trip?"
Nico shuffles his feet, ducking his head when he feels a blush forming. He was even more beautiful up close.
"It was . . . it was good," Percy says. His gaze drifts over to Nico before he meets (Y/N)'s eye again. "How was yours?"
"It was good," (Y/N) echoes, gesturing to Nico. "Meet Nico di Angelo. Nico, this is Percy Jackson."
Percy sticks his arm out. "Son of Poseidon," he says. A crooked smile pulls at his lips.
Nico's neck flushes with heat.
This is wrong, he tells himself, his gut twisting. This is wrong.
(Y/N)'s eyebrow twitches as she examines him. Nico hopes that she can't see his dilemma.
Gritting his teeth, Nico shakes Percy's hand. He curses himself when he begins thinking about the softness of his calloused skin. "Son of Hades," he mutters in response.
Percy's attention instantly shoots to (Y/N). His eyes, wide with shock and uncertainty, make Nico's stomach flip with dread.
"I know what it means," she says, her words somewhat quiet. Percy's throat bobs as he swallows, and Nico forces himself to look away.
This is wrong. You shouldn't . . . It's a . . . It's a sin. And he loves her.
Percy's eyebrows pinch together slightly, his voice laced with desperation. "Thalia left because of it."
"I know why she left." (Y/N) holds her chin higher, her jawline sharp as she looks up to face Percy properly. "And I know what this might mean for me. But I believe that you—that we—are done with that prophecy. We did our part. And if we fight to make sure that things don't go to hell, then he's going to be safe from it."
The Great Prophecy, Nico realizes, looking between the campers with intrigue. Hades had explained it to him when he brought Nico to the Underworld. Nico was under the impression that it had already been fulfilled, but the concern in Percy's eyes makes him question that assumption.
(Y/N), however, appears determined that Nico's arrival won't change anything. It brings him some comfort to know that she was willing to personally ward away the Fates.
Percy's shoulders drop slightly as he sighs.
"I'm going to make sure that what happened to us wasn't for nothing," (Y/N) breathes, holding the son of Poseidon's gaze.
Percy's inhale hitches, his expression shifting.
Nico tries to decipher the complexity of Percy's eyes in the few heartbeats that he stares at (Y/N).
Another pang of dejection, followed by shame, runs through his chest.
Eventually, Percy lets out a long exhale. "All right. Then I will, too. I chose the prophecy back then, anyway. It's mine."
(Y/N) relaxes. She smiles at him with gratitude.
Percy quickly returns the gesture. He turns to Nico, lowering his chin in a short nod. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Nico."
"Thanks," he mumbles, looking to his feet when Percy casts another glance to (Y/N) before walking deeper into the camp.
(Y/N) sighs, her lips trilling slightly at the end of her exhale. "Anyway," she says, the conflict in her voice beginning to ease, "here's the Big House."
— x —
(Y/N) says a goodbye to Chiron while leaving his office, and Nico kicks at the floorboards with boredom when their farewell breaks off into a smaller, unrelated conversation. Something about a tablet and some progress and a later discussion that Chiron wants to have. Nico doesn't bother listening to all of it, too focused on a particular knot in the floor's wood.
"All right," (Y/N) says, closing the office door and turning to Nico. "There's a bit more to the Big House than meets the eye. Upstairs"—she motions to the stairway that leads to the attic—"is the Oracle. Some people say that if you ever find yourself going on a quest, it's nice to get some clues for how it'll turn out. I say that mystery is exciting and her riddles are full of shit."
Nico releases a near-snort of laughter. A hot, embarrassed blush instantly rises to his neck, and he covers his mouth. (Y/N) chuckles at his reaction, nudging him gently with her elbow.
Bianca again makes her way to the front of his mind.
"There's also the infirmary," (Y/N) continues, walking ahead, and Nico appreciates the conversation to distract him from his thoughts. "You ever need to get patched up, or you ever just want to help out—this is the place to go. There's a back entrance deeper in the House, but I'll show you the main one out on the deck."
Nico nods, walking slowly and looking at some of the framed pictures and newspaper clippings that line the walls of the hallway. Waiting near the front door, (Y/N) lets him take his time, sticking her hands in her pockets and watching him carefully.
He shuffles his feet, his nerves racing with apprehension at the thought of walking back outside. What would people think of him? The few whom he'd interacted with had been polite in their welcome, but what about after? If they got to know him—really got to know him? Who he was, how he thought?
His heart stutters at the remembrance of how he'd felt upon seeing Percy. It was more than sheer amazement, and Nico knows it. It was captivation. Adoration.
How could he feel those things? It was wrong. It was everything he'd grown up learning was unnatural.
(Y/N)'s shoulders lower in Nico's periphery, and he looks over to her. Maybe it was the relation they shared through their powers, or maybe it was just her being open with him, but he immediately understands her expression.
She knows.
She saw.
She sees. Who he is. What he feels. How he thinks.
And she smiles.
Nico lowers his eyes.
"I don't know everything," (Y/N) starts, her words careful and soft, "about your life. But I do know that where—and when, and how—you grew up was very different from how things are now."
"You're right," Nico manages through his gritted teeth. "You don't know everything."
(Y/N) sighs. She takes a step closer. "I think I know enough."
Nico looks up from his shoes.
"Nico, you are half-human and half-god. You're a boy from a different time who has travelled across this realm and another. And while you try to mask your emotions, you show most of them in your eyes."
Nico's jaw tightens at the proof of her keen observations. Embarrassment roils in his blood, backed by anger. But the heat under his skin calms as (Y/N) continues to speak.
"But that's who you are. And it is nothing to be ashamed of. Everything you are, and everything you feel . . . they make the world around you a better, more special place. And I understand that it may take some time until you're able to realize that." She places her hand on Nico's shoulder, squeezing gently. "But people love us for us. Not the standards or expectations that we feel we have to conform to."
Nico's emotions begin to buck out of control. His face crumples as he blinks away the pools in his eyes. He sniffles, hurriedly wiping his cheek when a tear escapes.
There was a story from Plato that Nico had once read. It claimed that in ancient times, humans were vastly different from how they were now. Each person had been a combination of male and female, with two heads, four arms, and four legs. Zeus had feared that these people would grow to be so powerful, physically and mentally, that they would pose a threat to the gods' security. He split the humans in half, so that two people came from one—one man and one woman.
Ever since, humans had felt incomplete. They spent their lives searching for their other halves.
Nico had always wondered where that left him. Searching, yearning, wishing for a half that never was, never could be his.
It wasn't his favorite story.
"It's just . . ." he whispers, rubbing under his nose, "everything's been changing so quickly. It's all so . . . wrong. I'm wrong."
"Oh, Nico," (Y/N) breathes, leaning down a bit to encourage him to look at her. He feels helpless, weak, under the blanket of her sympathy. "Nothing about you is wrong," she says, her voice backed with a touch of steel. Surprised at the firmness of her words, he meets her eye—ice swirls in her gaze, defensive and determined. "Nothing. You may not yet see it, but you are who you are meant to be. And you are not alone. You just haven't gotten the chance or the security to look around for the proof. Now, here, is your chance."
More tears slip down his cheeks, and (Y/N) gives his shoulder another squeeze.
"None of us are perfect, Nico. But none of us are incorrect, either. Our hearts make us who we are. And there is nothing wrong in the ways we are built to love—if anything, it's good that you feel for others. That is nothing that you should feel forced to change." (Y/N) bends somewhat to get closer to his level. "And yes, things are different, and things are confusing, but that doesn't mean that things can't be better. So please trust me when I say that here, everyone will accept you. All of you. No matter what your story may be."
The son of Hades chokes on his breaths, sniffling as he struggles to contain the floodgates of his emotions. "I . . . After everything, I just . . . I don't know what to do. I don't even know what to believe."
(Y/N) opens her arms, giving him the option to lean into her. Overtaken by a kind of desperation, a kind of terror, that he has never felt before, Nico welcomes the opportunity. He squeezes her waist, and he nearly believes that it is Bianca's hand which rubs comfortingly along his shoulders.
"I'm gonna help you figure that out," (Y/N) says, smiling down at him when he pulls away from her hug. His heart warms. "We all are. If you let us."
Nico's lower lip trembles, and he wipes under his eyes. "Okay," he says, sniffling before letting out a sharp exhale. "Okay."
(Y/N) steps back to give him some space as he adjusts his jacket and takes a few breaths to regain his composure.
"Percy is pretty handsome, though, isn't he?" she teases, smirking. "Like, godly."
Nico finds his concern easing when he lets out a quiet laugh. "Yeah. But I don't think he's my type."
(Y/N) raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. Nico just gives her a shrug to explain the obvious.
"Oh," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "I see."
He chuckles.
"Well, then"—she begins walking, and Nico falls into step beside her once they exit and curve around the Big House on the walk-around patio—"if all you're going to do is drop hints, kid, then I think it's time we continue with our tour. So, here's the infirmary."
Nico tries to decipher the tiny smirk that tugs at one corner of her lips when she opens the door for him.
He can't seem to understand her thoughts this time, and he instead decides to turn his focus to the room flooding with natural light. Simple beds, each with nightstands and chairs at their side, line the walls to create a sort of walkway down the middle of the infirmary. A few campers bustle about, moving from cabinets to bedsides, carrying towels or bandages or crystal vials filled with the golden liquid that Nico knows to be nectar. To his senses, the room seems to flourish with an aura of life; but its history, its memory, he knows, were far more dark and dull.
At one bed, a girl talks quietly with a patient, their hands clasped over the sheets. She leans forward, brushing the long hair from her friend's cheeks and playing with some of the locks that splay across the pillow. In the bed, the other girl smiles.
Nico's gut wrenches, his thoughts instinctively flaring with disapproval and shock. But his heart seems to beat slower, as if in yearning.
Things are different, he reminds himself. Things are different.
So why were hatred and disgust still swirling inside his chest?
"Will!" (Y/N) calls from behind the son of Hades, and he glances at her with curiosity before following her line of sight. A boy pokes his head out from the back end of the room.
Nico's lungs go empty.
It was as if the boy was bursting with sunrays, from his golden curls to his glittering eyes to his smile that grows brighter the moment he sees (Y/N). His athletic build seems to catch in the light, highlighted in the best possible ways by the sun's touch. He bounds over, and his hair falls over his forehead when he comes to an abrupt stop before hugging the daughter of Persephone.
"Hi!" Will exclaims, holding on to (Y/N)'s shoulders after he pulls away. "How was your little excursion?"
"It was all right," (Y/N) says, chuckling at his enthusiasm and reaching up to squeeze his hands. She gestures to Nico, that smirk from before again tugging at her lips. "I picked up a souvenir."
Nico doesn't see her wink at the boy.
Will turns, pushing his hair off of his forehead, and the son of Hades suddenly feels uncomfortable in his jacket's warmth. He has to tilt his head up slightly to meet Will's eye.
"Hello!" Will greets, offering a handshake. Nico's skin prickles with life when Will clasps his hand in both of his, squeezing briefly before letting go. "I'm Will Solace, son of Apollo."
It felt like a hundred skeletal butterflies were resurrecting in Nico's stomach.
"Nico di Angelo." The name tumbles out of his mouth, and in his periphery, (Y/N)'s shoulders bounce with a silent chuckle. "Hades," he tags on.
Will's eyes literally shimmer with amusement. "I figured," he says, and Nico rubs his neck with a sheepish chuckle. "But welcome! It's so cool to have you at camp!"
Nico blushes.
Some dark section of his mind begins to curse him, barrelling into his thoughts and desires with the repeated cries of Shame! Shame! Shame!
The corners of his mouth lower. His eyes sting. He swallows thickly, forcing away his emotions.
(Y/N) looks between the boys before saying, "I told Nico that campers are welcome to volunteer here, if they're able. Nico, I'm not sure what all you can do, but I know that my gifts from Hades include some healing abilities. Could be the same for you."
Nico thanks the gods for her distraction from his feelings. He folds his lips inward, shrugging. "I'm not sure. I've never done it before. To be fair, I've never needed to."
(Y/N) looks pointedly at Will, her eyes widening in a silent suggestion.
At her hint, his cheeks flush pink. "I'd be happy to help you figure it out," Will offers, running a hand through his hair with a tentative smile. "If you're interested, that is."
This is wrong.
Things are different.
This is wrong.
Things are different.
This is—
—who you are. And it is nothing to be ashamed of.
Nico glances at (Y/N) with uncertainty. She encourages him with a gentle smile.
He swallows around the lump in his throat, turning to Will and giving him a firm nod. "I'm happy to learn," he says.
His stomach twists with guilt. His heart pounds with fear.
The son of Apollo grins.
And a weight begins to float, just slightly, off of Nico's chest.
———
I just had to give Nico a chapter, he's such a great little gay icon
and to those who may think I'm rushing his self-acceptance, y'all gotta remember that in the books he didn't have anyone acknowledge his identity until Cupid decided to be a bitch
anyway, (Y/N)'s advice to Nico is my advice to any of you who may be figuring out your identity—there are people who love you and will support you, even if you haven't found them yet. you deserve to be proud of who you are <3
as I will apparently say until the day I die, thanks so much for your patience and I hope you all liked this chapter!!