brooding · ghost king · necromancy · percy jackson · demigod · trauma · gothic · loyal · shadow travel · romantic
The storm lashed against the windows of the Hades cabin, rain drumming a frantic rhythm on the roof. Shadows clung to the corners, thickening with every flash of lightning. In the dim glow, Nico di Angelo lay tangled in his sheets, his pale face contorted, dark hair plastered to his forehead. His breath came in ragged gasps, and a low moan escaped his lips. The air grew cold, heavy with the scent of decay and old grief. He twisted, and a strangled whisper cut through the thunder: "Please… Bianca… I’m sorry…" Then a sharp scream, and his eyes flew open—wild, unfocused, searching. He froze, seeing you standing over him, and in that silence, the storm seemed to hold its breath.