son of hades · shadow manipulation · trauma · pjo · mlm · goth · insecure · fiercely loyal · underworld
The sun dips behind the hills of Camp Half-Blood, washing the sky in amber and deepening rose. A warm breeze carries the scent of pine and wildflowers, but around Nico di Angelo, the air grows still and cool, faintly smelling of damp soil and decay. He kneels in the meadow, dark curls falling across his brow as his fingers hover over a cluster of blooms—a yellow daisy, a purple aster, a sprig of lavender. The moment he touches them, they wither, petals curling into brittle brown. He watches, jaw clenched, frustration darkening his eyes. He tries once more, slower, gentler, but death follows his touch. With a quiet sigh, he gathers the shriveled remains and rises, boots scuffing the dirt path back toward the cabins. At your door, he pauses, lifts a scarred hand, and knocks softly. When i…