Percabeth oneshots and multiple-part stories including HoO/PJO characters.

Nico's Birthday

Yet another oneshot. If you ask when the multiple part stories are going to come out, I'll just say...that there're under development lol. Anyway, this includes everyone (The Seven plus Will, Nico and Hades). 🍪🍪🍪+🟦= what Sally makes for Percy (I'm so sorry there's no blue cookie emoji) 

Nico: This story should be inaccurate. I am the Commander of Darkness, Leader of The Skeleton Army, Child of the Underworld-

Me: You are not helping boost my confidence here, Niccolò Di Angelo.

Nico: WHO SAID YOU COULD CALL ME THAT!? SKELETONS ATTACK!

Skeletons: *attacks me*

Will: Nico, stop, come on, he's innocent!

Nico: Fine! Only because of you.

Percy: Looks like someone only is held back by their true love, eh.

Nico: Oh shut up, Perseus Jackson . Go jump off a cliff. Skeletons, attack!

Percy: *summons giant fists of water* Bring it on.

Me: Anyway, enjoy! *tsunami of bones and water wash over*

Nico's POV

I trudged through the dark, cold halls of the Underworld, my boots clicking against the stone floor with each step. It wasn't that the Underworld was particularly unwelcoming—it was just... the Underworld. It was home. Home, but also a constant reminder of things I couldn't undo.

I had barely noticed the time pass. Another year had gone by. My birthday. I glanced at my watch, the dull tick of the second hand the only sound in the eerie quiet of the palace. No one had mentioned it today, not even Will. I frowned, my stomach sinking.

I didn't expect anyone to make a big deal out of it, but it would've been nice if Will—my boyfriend—had at least remembered.

I couldn't blame him, though. Will was always so busy with his healing work, running around camp, being everyone's sunshine. It was just... sometimes, I wished he'd notice when I was dark and stormy.

Dark and stormy. I chuckled bitterly to myself. That was how I had always been. Cold. Distant. I was Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades, a walking reminder of death itself.

But once, there had been someone who cared enough to make sure I felt special. Bianca.

I stopped walking and closed my eyes, the image of her flooded my mind. I saw her, her face full of mischief and joy, as she stood in the kitchen of our old house in the mortal world, trying to bake a cake for my birthday. It had been a disaster, of course—flour flying everywhere, eggs cracking all over the place—but she'd laughed it off, her big grin lighting up the room as she forced me to laugh with her.

"I'll get it right this time!" she'd say, but then the cake would fall flat or burn, and we'd end up laughing even harder. Those were the moments that mattered. Those were the moments that made me forget about the cold, the isolation, the endless darkness.

And now she was gone.

I had tried to bring her back once, I remember. I had gone to Elysium, desperate, even though I knew the rules. I begged the gods, I begged for a way to bring her back. But no, she had chosen to be reincarnated. She hadn't wanted to stay in Elysium, not even for me. And as much as I hated it, I understood. Bianca had always been independent. She had always been stronger than me.

I felt a tear threaten to fall, but I blinked it away, focusing on the path ahead. I reached my chambers and stepped inside, the door creaking shut behind me.