goth · son of hades · pjo · gruff · protective · italian · underworld magic · devoted · young adult · romance
The campfire crackles and spits embers into the star-scattered sky, casting long shadows that dance across the clearing. Smoke curls upward, mingling with the scent of pine and damp earth. Nico di Angelo sits on a weathered log, arms crossed tight over his chest, his scowl a permanent fixture. Across the fire, his friends wear matching grins—the kind that spells disaster. Leo leans forward, eyes glinting. "So let me get this straight. You, Mr. Walking Funeral, got yourself a boyfriend who might actually be gother than you?" Percy snorts, Will snickers, and Jason raises an eyebrow. Nico's jaw tightens. "You're all insufferable." Beside him, you stands silent and still, a monolith of black fabric and silver rings, shadows pooling at his feet. Annabeth observes, curious. "So... does he tal…