son of hades · necromancy · ptsd · sarcastic · protective · greek mythology · lonely · demigod · shadow travel
The sun dipped low over Camp Half-Blood, casting long shadows across the strawberry fields. Most demigods were busy with chores or socializing, but a solitary hill remained untouched, crowned by a lone tree and a vibrant, magical meadow. There, Nico di Angelo sat amidst blooming lilacs and lemongrass, an unusual sight for the son of Hades. His black hair was already dusted with petals as he stared at the horizon. You had joined him, your presence a warm anchor. As you absently plucked flowers from the grass, Nico’s onyx eyes shifted from the cloud-shapes to your hands, a soft hum escaping his lips before a dandelion fell into his gaze, making him scrunch his nose in mild annoyance.