#so i hope we also see that at the very end of the last olympian season

[tending-the-hearth]

so the one on the far left is obviously thalia’s tree, the one on the immediate right of the college ring is the centaur wearing a dress, and either the red or yellow bead is the trireme on fire

I REALLY hope we get an explanation of what the other two beads are, since we never really find out what the are in the books, but at the very least, i REALLY hope we get a good visual of the beads!

[kamaluhkhan]

LONG HOT SUMMER NIGHT

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader word count: 8.4k chapter summary: it's the summer solstice and olympus is throwing a party! thalia notices the tension between you and luke, poseidon gives you some relationship advice and you punch the god of desire in the face. warnings: angst! jealous reader. lots of drinking. complicated relationships. reader dealing with ptsd + survivor's guilt (post-titan war). mention of injuries + blood. creepy guy pushing reader to hook up. ending is a bit steamy but no actual smut. spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 also reader is in a band called the midnight sirens and is born on the summer solstice! author's note: thank you so much for all the love for part 1!! summer is almost over and this is very much a summer series BUT summer's not over yet !!! hope y'all enjoy this one too and thanks 4 reading 💙

part 1 | series masterlist

♪: long hot summer night by jimi hendrix

mail to: 

Luke Castellan Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill 3.141 Farm Road Long Island, New York 11954

LUKE! 

I’m sitting in my kitchen right now, watching Percy make us blue blueberry pancakes and hoping he doesn’t burn down my kitchen while doing so. I caved and agreed to take him to Disneyland while he’s here and breakfast was part of the deal, but I think I might regret it later. 

We went surfing yesterday. It was Percy’s first time, but he was (unsurprisingly) amazing at it. I still can’t get over how beautiful the beaches are and the waves — gods, the waves are unreal. You’d seriously love it here. It’s like every day is summer. You have to come visit. PLEASE come visit!!!!

- [your initial]

P.S. The band and I are working on some new music, which means I won’t make it to camp again this summer. I’m sorry ;( Fingers crossed I’ll make it next year. 

P.P.S. hi luke! happy to report that i did not burn down my sister’s kitchen. anyways, can’t wait to kick your ass in sword-fighting this summer. xoxo, percy

THREE YEARS LATER 

the first time you visited olympus, you had been sent on a quest to retrieve zeus’ stolen lightning bolt, bringing luke and charles beckendorf along with you. you had missed the summer solstice deadline, but still tried to reason with the king of the gods when presenting the symbol of power, maybe calling him out once or twice along the way. before zeus could strike you down for your boldness, poseidon stepped in. the war between them was averted in fear of a much larger, looming threat; an ominous introduction for what was to come in the next chapter of your life.

another time, the gods debated whether or not they should kill you, some seeing you as a threat to their future. that was the day you accepted your destiny, not wanting your brother percy or your cousin nico to deal with the weight of the great prophecy. 

your last visit to olympus was on your 18th birthday, after helping to defeat kronos and his army. you made the gods swear to stop neglecting their kids and to allow all demigods, regardless of whether their parent was an olympian or not, to have a home at camp half-blood; to treat their children as children rather than heroes as pawns in their twisted games.

needless to say, it’s quite strange, being back here under very, very different circumstances, where the gods invited camp half-blood’s senior counsellors and staff to join in their summer solstice festivities.

it’s not every day you’ll be invited to a party on olympus; you’re determined to have a good time, to have fun. there’s already an abundance of music, dancing, food, or alcohol, and the night is just getting started.

you’re happy to be there with new and old friends, but you’re ecstatic when you see that thalia grace is there, too. 

“immortality looks good on you, t!” you compliment, raising your voice slightly over the music.

thalia preens, and you bask in her silver glow. 

“bet you wish you took the gods up on their offer, huh,” she teases. then, her eyes widen. “oh - shit! it’s your birthday! happy birthday!” 

thalia tackles you with another hug; even after all these years, she still smells like pine trees. she grabs two goblets of honeyed wine and hands one to you as you catch up. you eagerly gulp the sweet drink, until you’re reaching for another while listening to her stories about adventures she’d been on with the hunters of artemis. 

about halfway through her story about fighting off a manticore during a snow storm, a nymph appears with a platter of the ripest of fruit – sweet plums and fresh figs, tantalising pomegranates, succulent grapes and crisp apples. 

“oh my gods, this is the best apple i’ve had in my entire life!” thalia exclaims after indulging in a taste, herself giddy from a few goblets of wine. “where’s luke? he’s gotta try this — he’s always reminding us to eat more fruit. luke!” 

you hadn’t kept track of luke, at least not on purpose. you assumed he’d been off partying with van or his siblings, and, probably, avoiding you. wherever he was, thalia calls his name twice more and, like a ghost, luke appears. 

“i’m here, t.” luke’s voice is a deep, steady rumble floating above the music. his cheeks are slightly flushed, either from the heat or the drinks. likely both. “what’s up?”

“you need to try this.” thalia shoves the apple in his mouth before luke can respond. 

luke takes a bite, and some juice drips down his chin. you, in a honey-soaked haze, think about running your tongue over to catch it, but he beats you to it, wiping it away with the back of his hand. 

probably for the best.

“holy shit. yeah, it’s good.”

thalia, a sparkle in her eyes, urges you to try it as well. from across the makeshift triangle the three of you had formed, luke tosses the apple your way. you catch it effortlessly, and sink your teeth into it. 

you’ve almost overwhelmed by the burst of flavor. the fruit is just the right amount of tart to balance out the sweetness, and it’s damn near the best crunch you’ve ever experienced.

“good is an understatement,” you say after another bite. a distant memory crosses your mind. “i wonder if these are the same ones we almost got killed by a hellhound for.” 

thalia shakes her head, laughing in disbelief. “all because luke said we needed more vitamin c.”

“i was just looking out for us!” luke guffaws. “how was i supposed to know that persephone owned an apple orchard in connecticut?”

you pat his shoulder, the three of you smiling at the memory. “let’s call it an honest mistake.”

“well if annabeth had been with us by then, i’m sure that she wouldn’t have made that same honest mistake.” 

“okay, but she’s the daughter of athena —”

you let luke and thalia slip back into their playful bickering as if no time has passed. you listen and continue eating that glorious apple, enjoying how the golden glow of your shared past fills whatever distance might have grown between the three of you. 

somewhere down memory lane, luke’s amber eyes flick towards you.

“hey, you’ve got some….” without another word, luke suddenly reaches over to brush away a trail of juice with his thumb before sticking the finger in his mouth to savour the taste. he holds your gaze as he does so, and you feel a familiar kind of heat rush through your body — not from alcohol or summer sun, but from luke. 

it’s such an intimate gesture that you almost forget that you’re at some extravagant party on mount olympus, where gods and half-bloods and a whole bunch of other mythological creatures are celebrating the start of summer by essentially getting drunk together, until thalia clears her throat. 

“okay, well, seems like the two of you might want some alone time.”

luke’s cheeks grow more flushed than before, and his eyes widen as if realizing what he’d done.

“oh, we don’t need —”

“we’re not —”

you and luke both stumble over your words; thalia just smiles knowingly. 

“i’m gonna go flirt with that nymph,” she announces, pointing across the grand marble pavilion.

“i thought — doesn’t artemis sort of frown upon that sort of thing?” you ask.

“she makes exceptions on holidays. besides, i’m her favourite. you guys have fun.” thalia winks at you and walks away.

you glance at luke and, gods, there’s so much history between you. 

the time you jumped into an ocean full of sirens to save luke from drowning? you have a scar running down your forearm where one of them scratched you as you struggled to get luke towards the surface. 

or when you took turns holding up the sky while on a quest to save lady artemis and defeat the titan atlas? it’s evident in the matching streaks of grey that you each have running through your hair. whenever you see your reflection in the mirror, you remember how you couldn’t save your cousin bianca di angelo earlier that day, and how nico has had to grow up without a sister because of a promise you broke.

how about when you, luke, and one of your best friends were sent on a mission to destroy the princess andromeda, the headquarters of kronos’ army? only the two of you survived, and sometimes you can still feel luke squeezing your hand pike he did during charles beckendorf’s burial shroud ceremony while you both cried.

or when luke took a sword between the ribs for you because he, somehow, knew the one spot the curse of achilles left you vulnerable? he can only slouch for so long before the bones there start to ache.

so, yeah. there’s way too much history, and so many tangled threads, and now really isn’t an ideal time to unravel it all. 

“i’m gonna go find my dad,” you blurt out and disappear into the crowd with no real intention of finding your father. 

the once sweet apple now tastes rotten on your tongue; you rid yourself of it in exchange for some more wine. you’re determined to have fun — no pain or heartache or grief. 

you’ve all had enough of that for three lifetimes. 

summer — age 14

“sorry your birthday was ruined.” 

luke exhaled sharply when you pressed a disinfectant-soaked cloth to the wound on his leg.

“hold still,” was all you mumbled in response, brows knitted together as you wrapped the cut in gauze. 

once you were done with his leg, you moved on to luke’s hands, burned by poisonous acid. the four of you had run into a hydra earlier that night. you managed to wound it enough so you could all get away, but not before a few injuries were sustained. 

you were uncharacteristically quiet as you worked. you only met luke’s gaze to warn him before pouring some nectar on his wounds. you let luke hold your hand, tightly, as the liquid dripped through his fingers and down to yours, first right, then left. the pain was instant, seering almost as much as the hydra acid, but it was over quickly. the last thing you did was bandage each hand before getting up. 

“i’m…i’m gonna check on thalia and annabeth. i’ll take first watch.”

luke caught your hand before you got away.

“wait. you’re bleeding.” he pointed to the cut on your brow. you had been so preoccupied in making sure everyone else was safe that you let crimson liquid drip down your face. it probably stung, too, based on your grimace.

luke wiped away the blood with his sleeve, used nectar to disinfect the wound, and dressed it with a fresh bandage, working silently as you did.

“it’s still your birthday,” luke finally said once he was done. “you get some rest; i’ll take first watch.”

you gave him a small, strained smile before checking on the others. 

later that night, you stayed up with luke anyways. 

seemingly out of nowhere, you handed him your portable cassette player. luke stared at it for a moment, unwilling to comprehend just what you were offering and, more importantly, why. 

you and luke had grown accustomed to sharing things: flannels, socks, makeshift beds and scavenged food. but this —

it was your aunt’s. 

you never met your mother, who’d left you as a baby, and of course, poseidon was too busy tending to his underwater kingdom to step in as a parent. your aunt raised you as her own. and then you lost her, too. 

you kept her cassette player buried deep in your bag with some mixtapes she had made and ones you’d stolen throughout the years. when it wasn’t your turn to keep watch, luke would sometimes catch you with headphones on, looking up at the stars. 

luke liked to think he knew you well; all those subtle elements that made you — the crack of your knuckles, the cadence of your voice, the slope of your nose, the dreams of your childhood. engraved in his own personhood. bones and all. 

and, still: he didn’t know you, not entirely. 

you’d only allowed luke to listen with you once, maybe twice. he’d never forget what it was like: knees pressed together and heads just as close to keep the wires from stretching too far; you gushing about the magic of jimi hendrix, recounting memories that echoed through gentle guitar riffs; luke yearning for one more song to play, for another a wistful smile of yours to appear. luke, wishing to linger in your private oasis a beat longer before you pushed him out again and closed the door behind him. 

the one lock luke couldn’t crack: your grief, and how you carried on so buoyantly despite its weight.

well, there you were, presenting the key to luke as an offering. a sacrifice for something luke would never ask of you. 

“this….” luke swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to look at you. he turned the device over in his bandaged hands, the metal smooth, though well-worn. “you can’t just —”

leave. you can’t just leave. you can’t just —

“hey.” 

your hand over his, forcing him to stop spiralling and look at you. 

right away, luke regretted it. a small sliver of him, however delusional, had hoped that you were joking. 

you weren’t. behind you, there was an empty space where you had previously wedged your sleeping bag. your backpack was already strapped around your shoulders, fully packed. 

“i need to leave, luke. we can’t stay together. it’s too dangerous.”

“you don’t need to —”

“there’s more of us, now,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away to rest on your thigh. “four demigods together isn’t ideal. we’ve been attracting more monsters. more deadly monsters.”

“that would happen, anyways. it always has whether it’s the four of us, the two of us, or….” 

luke stopped his sentence short, not even wanting to give you the idea to go out on your own, even though you’d probably been thinking about leaving for some time. 

you made reckless decisions sometimes, but this didn’t seem to be one of them.

“well, it’s happening more.” your voice was steady, too steady. luke imagined you rehearsing just what to say to counter the inevitable backlash. 

luke shook his head. “i’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“you almost died because of me,” you clipped. you lifted a hand to touch the bruise on luke’s jaw, but let it drop just as quickly. “you know that children of the big three cause more trouble. maybe we managed it when it was the two of us, but now, there’s more to consider. a child of poseidon and a child of zeus, travelling together. it’s like we’re asking to be killed. it’s too dangerous.”

“that’s our life,” luke snapped. “you can’t just run from it.” from us.

you faltered, looking back to where annabeth and thalia were sleeping peacefully. 

oh. he must have said that last part out loud, too. 

“you know i’m right,” is all you said.

luke could only shake his head again. because, fine, you weren’t entirely wrong. it was more dangerous — but it was danger luke hoped you’d all face, together. 

“i’ve made up my mind,” you added, an anchor in the sand.

“don’t leave.” luke’s words came out as a prayer. if he offered something, maybe you’d stay.

you paused to take a shaky breath. “this isn’t goodbye, luke. i swear to poseidon…fuck, i swear to all the gods that this isn’t goodbye.”

luke couldn’t speak. there were tears bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill. 

“so, keep this for me,” you whispered, once again placing your hand on top of luke’s. his fingers gripped your cassette player tightly, like it was the only piece of driftwood leftover from a shipwreck, keeping him from sinking into the cold, dark nothing. “you’ll give it back when we see each other again.”

a promise. 

“fine,” luke conceded, though he wanted to scream at you. he wanted to argue like little kids — petty, loud, meaningless, back and forth until tears streamed down cheeks and throats were raw. 

but, you were leaving, one way or another. luke didn’t want this shared memory to be tainted if it might be your last.

“you have to take this, then. give it back when we see each other again.”

luke removed the chain from around his neck, the one that held the key to his childhood home. he placed it around yours, instead.

he didn’t need the key now, but his mother had given it to him when he was six. before he knew what it meant to be the son of hermes, god of thieves. 

call him sentimental, but luke had kept it. just in case he ever got lost. 

“if you’re ever back in connecticut, you have a home.”

“yeah, okay.” you smiled softly. 

it fell just as quickly. 

“take care of them,” you told him. “of yourself, too. i’ll see you again when it’s safe.”

luke didn’t ask when it would be safe, because the truth is that it might never be.

“because you want your cassette player back?” luke joked, instead trying to lighten the mood, to capture one last moment of brightness.

you laughed softly to not wake the others. 

“yeah. that too.”

you pressed your forehead to his, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. 

“i’ll see you again,” you repeated.

without another word, you got up and jogged away. luke shut his eyes, refusing to see you become nothing but a shadow. 

(you looked back several times, but he couldn’t see through the darkness.)

now

call the gods out on their bullshit (you encourage it), but if they have one thing going for them, it’s that the olympians know how to throw a party. 

the night grows darker, yet somehow becomes more lively. demeter and persephone had supplied a generous amount of fresh, decadent fruit, and dionysus an even more generous amount of wine. apollo starts a karaoke corner and you’re just tipsy enough to agree to sing a duet with him in order to break the ice. apparently, he’s a big midnight sirens fan and had seen your band when you headlined at glastonbury festival. you smile to yourself, imagining your bandmates’ faces if you told them that the god of music had watched you perform.

as you hand the microphone to a giggling dryad, the sound of your name washes over like gentle waves on a shore.

“if it isn’t my sweet, summer child!” your father brings you in for a hug and an ocean breeze engulfs you — salt and sand and sun. 

“hi dad,” you exhale as you pull away. 

you hadn’t seen each other in a while, but poseidon looks the same. he’s dressed in a turquoise hawaiian shirt and birkenstocks with a crown of seashells on his head. there’s a cocktail umbrella in his glass, a slice of pineapple wedged onto the rim. you’re about to ask him how he managed to secure a pina colada and where you might find one, too.

“that was quite the performance!” poseidon takes an eager sip of his drink, green eyes sparkling like sea glass in the sun. “i must tell you: your newest album is all the rage in atlantis. the nereids and merpeople can’t seem to get enough of it and, truthfully, i find myself playing it on repeat as well. you’re quite talented.” 

you try not to let your shock slip through, instead smiling and asking how things are in his underwater kingdom, but you’re….touched at your father’s unexpected praise.

the gods aren’t perfect, and your father is no exception. they’re divine beings who have time to conceive children, but not to raise them. there’s a long history of them abandoning, mistreating, and manipulating their own offspring. of course, being the prophecy child, it became practically impossible for your father to ignore you; you’re sure that being dubbed the saviour of olympus gives him bragging rights with his immortal family. even with their sworn promise to change, it’s impossible not to resent the gods in some ways. 

still, you feel comforted by your father's presence at times — when you catch the perfect wave on your surfboard, for example, or when you sit on your fire escape during a storm after a bad day. it’s been like that pretty much all your life: poseidon there in spirit, not in practice. despite everything, he’s watched over you, and percy, throughout the years.

and here poseidon is now, grinning at you like you’re his pride and joy. 

“enough about aquatic politics.” he pats your shoulder enthusiastically after telling you about the struggles of keeping humans from overfishing. “i came over to wish you a happy birthday. and to give you this.” 

poseidon reaches into the pocket of his shirt and hands you something you’d long thought gone: a leather cord with several clay beads and a silver key.

“i found it off the california coast,” he explains. “i kept meaning to get it to you, but i suppose time has a way of getting away from us, immortal or not.”

a warmth grows in your chest as you run your thumb over your old camp necklace, bright and full. it had fallen off one day when you’d gone surfing, and you assumed it was lost to the ocean. you'd been given a fresh leather cord when you arrived at camp earlier this summer, but it felt empty. hollow.

“thanks, dad.” 

you smile at him as you put on the necklace; it feels like coming home. your father then asks you about your summer so far.

you tell him all about your life as of late, until you catch a glimpse of luke with van on a marble bench at the other end of the pavilion. van is sitting in luke’s lap, and they lean over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. 

you freeze mid-way through your sentence.

sensing the shift in mood, poseidon frowns. he turns his head to follow your gaze.

“ah.” poseidon turns back to you and clears his throat. “now, i don’t mean to pry, but i saw you earlier with the castellan boy.”

you flush at the fact that your moment with luke was witnessed by your own father. “dad —”

“did you know in ancient greece, throwing someone an apple and having them catch it is considered a marriage proposal?”

“i’m pretty sure that was disproven,” you scoff.

poseidon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “which one of us was actually there, hm?” and though you roll your eyes, you can’t argue with that. “i just wanted to know if there was a wedding happening in the near future.”

you almost choke on the last remnants of your wine. “dad.”

“i’m kidding. i’m kidding! mr. castellan seems otherwise occupied.” 

“yeah, it does seem that way,” you grumble.

poseidon puts a hand on your shoulder, firm but reassuring. “regardless: if you find someone who would go to tartarus and back with you, someone who would fight alongside you every step of the way, you hold on to them. there’s only so much time you mortals have on this earth.”

you sigh — easier said than done — but your father is trying, so you manage a nod.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

“now, i better go — ” poseidon looks over your shoulder, where the air behind you starts to feel staticky. “it seems a disagreement is brewing between zeus and hades. they always get into it whenever dionysus makes the wine a bit too strong. brother, put away the lightning bolt —” and he rushes away to prevent another divine conflict from arising.

left to your own devices, you venture over to the food table, finding an array of fresh and dried fruit, breads, cured meat, fresh oysters and, of course, more wine. you grab a goblet and a few dried figs.

“careful, i heard dionysus made the wine extra strong tonight,” someone warns, creeping up beside you. the voice is soft and alluring, and you feel something tug at your heart. 

you do a double take when you turn to them; the person is devilishly handsome, a golden aura paired with a golden smile. 

(you will soon find out that the god flirting with you is the son of ares and aphrodite, the latter of which takes the appearance of whoever the onlooker loves. as it turns out, her son appears in the same way. 

all this to say: it doesn’t mean anything that this god looks like luke castellan to you. 

it doesn’t mean anything at all.)

“i’m eros.”

“hey. i’m —”

“i know who you are, savior of olympus.” eros winks at you. “i just never realized you were so beautiful.”

your cheeks heat up as you take a sip of your drink.

oh, shit. 

okay. the literal god of desire and pleasure is flirting with you. 

you’re flattered, really, and maybe the wine has gotten to your head, but you’re not eager to turn him away.

“well, i’ve definitely heard about you, and the rumors do not do you justice,” you quip, painting on a flirtatious smile.

eros puffs out his chest, clearly pleased. 

over the next few minutes, you decide that eros can hold a decent conversation, asking you the classic first date questions about your likes and dislikes, and he’s cute enough that you wouldn’t mind things going further. 

(he might be a god, but he’s no luke. you push that thought away, and force yourself to flirt with helios. eros. right, eros.)

eros leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze drop every so often to the deep v-neck of your shirt.  

“no way! 13 going on 30 is a classic,” you argue. you nudge your shoulder into eros’s playfully, and let the contact between you linger. eros, the inspiration for cupid himself, has angel wings, and you feel them brush softly against your burning skin. 

“it’s totally overrated!” eros exclaims. “also, the childhood friends to lovers trope gives people false hope.”

“it’s not false hope. it’s about the buildup to their happily ever after,” you reason, swallowing some wine to dislodge the lump in your throat.

eros shakes his head. “trust me, baby, it’s all about the instant attraction. that’s where the excitement is.” 

he’s so close now, you can smell the sharp alcohol on his breath. not wine, but something stronger.

“oh? what do you mean by that?” you lean impossibly closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

eros smirks, placing a hand on your thigh. “want me to demonstrate?” 

not even a second after you whisper a yes, eros crashes his lips onto yours, and you will yourself to kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. 

you’re making out with the god of desire and passion, so, objectively, it’s a good first kiss: soft around the edges and firm where it needs to be.

sure — you feel nothing, no real spark, but it’s almost enough to fill the hole in your heart in the shape of a certain son of hermes. 

the son of hermes who has moved on and is in a loving relationship with a perfect emotionally available partner. 

so, it’s fine. 

this, this thing with eros, is fine. 

you’re fine.

eros pulls away first, but keeps a hand on your cheek.

“let's get out of here.” 

he grabs your wrist before you have a chance to answer. you stand up, let him weave you through the crowd towards the stairs of the pavilion. apparently, his room is just through the garden. 

as he tugs you along, he looks back at you, smiling. under the glow of the stars, eros looks just like luke, except it’s becoming harder to ignore that he isn’t luke and that makes you feel all sorts of nauseous. your camp necklace weighs on your chest and, in particular, the silver key that you’d kept for all those years burns through your skin. 

lightheaded, you pull away from eros’ grip just as you reach the top of the stairs and place a hand on the column next to you to steady yourself.

eros turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just…keep talking here.”

eros grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” his tone is ever-so-gentle, but there’s an edge behind his words. 

this time, your voice comes out more assertive. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“come on, baby, don’t you wanna experience what real passion is? this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that a million girls would kill for. you’d be an idiot to pass it up.” he brags, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose, god or not. 

“i don’t care,” you snap, struggling to break free from his grip. “and i’m not your baby.”

“okay, whatever,” eros rolls his eyes, but quickly plasters on an arrogant grin. “we’ll go somewhere private and i’ll call you whatever you want.”

he manages to drag you down two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage and use your strength to rip out of his grip, forcing eros to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he snaps, whipping his head around once more. 

he looks nothing like luke, now.

“just stop, eros.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little kid. so much for being the savior of olympus. “trust me, i know what people want, so you don’t have to be shy. i promise to be the best you’ve ever had —”

“eros, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s percy, giving eros one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. percy, your little brother who talks to lonely fish at the aquarium; who, if you cut open, would bleed blue m&m’s; who would never let anyone, god or otherwise, hurt someone he loves. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my sister.”

“mind your own business, kid,” eros hisses. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you down another step, but you stand your ground.

annabeth, no longer the scared little seven year old you, luke, and thalia found behind a dumpster, is also glaring at liam from the top of the stairs. one of her hands rests firmly on her belt, where she keeps her dagger. 

“i’d back off, if i were you,” she warns. “wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“just mind your own business,” eros snarls.

“they said leave her alone,” thalia asserts, walking over once she sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” she clenches her hand into a fist.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” percy orders. “my sister can do a lot better than a minor god with a major god complex.” 

eros growls, baring his teeth at percy. “you impertinent little shit.”

as soon as eros lunges for your brother, you tug one of his wings towards you, hard. he whips around and you take the opportunity to punch him in the face. he doubles over, golden ichor gushing from his nose.

“i’d be careful if i were you, baby,” you seethe. “you wouldn’t want to go up against the demigods who led an army against kronos and won. unless, of course, humiliation is a kink of yours.” you laugh humorlessly at the way eros scowls at your words. “to each their own,” you continue. “but i’m not in the mood to fuck an entitled creep with angel wings to compensate for his tiny dick. you better fucking respect that, and leave us alone while you’re at it.”

eros’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only entitled, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a few blows to their ego. 

call it stupidity or arrogance, but his only response is a punch delivered right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but percy manages to reach out and catch you before you fall down the stairs. he holds you as thalia and annabeth create a barrier between you and eros. you hear them shouting at eros over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is suddenly all fuzzy. percy tries his best, but you slump your body weight into his and he almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” luke’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. “from what i remember, you were too much of a coward to even step foot on the battlefield, so i’d listen to her if you know what’s good for you.” in a haze, you guess that luke is directing his sharp words towards eros, before turning to the others and instructing: “you guys take care of this — find clarisse if you need back up.”

somehow, you find yourself over in a small secluded temple, sitting on a window bench overlooking the clouds as luke sits next to you.

like most of olympus, the building is made of marble with gold accents; this one has roses engraved on the walls, and the space smells like flowery perfume. it’s much quieter than the pavilion, though you can hear laughter and music in the distance. it’s cooler, too, but not by much; even without all the body heat, you're left with sticky summer air, and luke’s breath on yours, sweet with wine and ripe fruit, as he carefully examines your injury.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him after all) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

“thought the curse of achilles would protect you from nosebleeds.”

“guess it doesn’t protect against —” what did percy call eros? “ — minor gods who have major god complexes,” you recite.

luke looks slightly amused. “that’s a shame,” he hums. “would have been nice to get one birthday without being injured.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the dull ache from your nose.

“you remembered.”

“of course i remember,” luke almost scoffs like the mere suggestion of forgetting what day you were born is an insult to his very character. he meets your gaze, and you could melt when he offers you that lopsided smile of his, painfully familiar. “happy birthday, aquagirl,” and it’s the softest he’s spoken to you in a while. just like old times.

he remembers. 

somewhere within him, luke holds on to fragments of you.

he wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of his silk white button-down now stained crimson. “how’s your hand?” he asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

“i guess all those years away didn’t change anything. still willing to put a god in their place, huh?”

all those years away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, and you’re worried that it might burst the comfortable bubble you and luke had drunkenly stumbled into. 

thankfully, luke continues:

“the kids really take after you.”

he says as a joke, mostly, but there’s a sincerity in those deep brown eyes of his, too. something you also hadn’t seen from him in a while. 

the kids, who you’d in some ways raised together when monsters were trying to kill you and the gods didn’t care enough to stop it. 

the family you and luke had built together despite being born into the world of greek tragedies. 

“as if annabeth wasn’t threatening to pull the dagger you gave her, skywalker,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “besides, they’re not kids anymore.”

“yeah.” he pauses. “neither are we.” 

luke’s fingers trace your camp necklace, brush against your collarbone. the breath hitches in your throat.

here you are again, at the edge of something real and very scary, and you fear luke is going to push the two of you over. 

but he doesn’t. instead, luke suggests, jokingly: “maybe we should start a fight club at camp.” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s hoping to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it. before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re practically ignoring each other.

where you’re fine, but really. 

you snort. “chiron and mr. d would love that.”

“like they’d ever find out!” luke explains. “you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

luke laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

and that’s the thing that really, truly gets you. 

try as you might to ignore it, some days it’s hard to forget the pain and heartache and grief. 

you still feel like your life is a battlefield; you still see the ghosts of everyone you couldn’t save even though people call you a savior; you still have those scars, inside and out, that seemed healed but ache every once and a while. 

but that isn’t all. 

sometimes it hurts more thinking back to the good times and knowing, deep down, you can never go back.

summer — age 13

“ugh — you think with all their power, the gods could help stop global warming,” you groaned, swatting away a mosquito that tried to land on you. “do you think they have air conditioning on olympus?”

“oh, for sure,” luke quipped. he gave you a lopsided smile, his curls sticking to his forehead, drenched in sweat. 

it was the summer solstice, the longest and the hottest day of the year so far. the two of you had found a perfectly good hideout, but luke insisted that this place would be worth the move. 

he’d been leading you down side streets for what felt like forever. the sun had already set, and you were very close to passing out from the heat, until luke finally stopped at a door behind an alley, with a sign reading CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. 

luke knelt down to do whatever son-of-hermes lock magic he had to do to get the door open. he flipped a switch, and you winced at the sudden overwhelming brightness. 

the destination was different than the hideouts you usually sprung for: those small, hole-in-the-wall type places. instead, this space was big and bright, filled with arcade games and fun posters and neon colours. the type of place a kid might have a party or where a group of normal teenagers might spend their friday night. 

“what…what is this?”

“you thought i forgot, didn’t you?” luke smirked at you. he sat down on the colourful carpet, taking out some snacks, a small plastic bag with coins, a wrapped box, and a plastic blue crown, and gestured for you to join.

you did, in fact, think that luke had forgotten your birthday. 

birthdays were bittersweet for children of gods, who were constantly reminded that any year could be their last, their youth cut short by monsters or prophecies or a fatal flaw. all the two of you usually did on either birthday was split any sweet treat you could get your hands on. 

it wasn’t a big deal, really, to skip that tradition of yours. there were much more urgent things to worry about, like finding food and water and shelter, and not being devoured by monsters. 

you did think it was strange that luke hadn’t so much as said happy birthday to you all day, but you knew that he loved you.

(like a friend loves a friend. nothing else, no matter how much your stomach fluttered at the thought of him.) 

“i wanted to surprise you,” luke explained once you claimed your spot next to him. he reached over to place the crown on your head. “i found this place a few days ago during a food run. it reminds me of where we had your —”

“eighth birthday party, yeah.” you smiled at the memory of running around and feeding quarters to every machine and trying every game, of your classmates singing happy birthday to you off-key before you all stuffed your faces with sickly sweet confetti cake. 

truthfully, you never thought about having another celebration like that again.

but, it was five years from that faded childhood memory, and luke was presenting you with something you didn’t even realize you had needed: the chance to be a kid again.

“so,” luke got up, a wide smile on his face. he held the plastic bag in one hand, extending the other to you. “which do you wanna play first?”

you started with space invaders, then moved on to dragon’s lair and pac-man. you took a break before street fighter ii so that luke could ceremoniously light a candle and present a cupcake that had been tossed around in his bag (but you were still very, very grateful for), along with fresh batteries for your portable cassette player. he had made you a mixtape too, though you couldn’t figure out how. 

your last stop was a photobooth. you vowed to keep those pictures — a collection of you and luke together, smiling bright and colourful, goofing off and laughing — for the rest of your life.

now

those moments from past summers are like popsicles melting in the sun: tangible for a limited time before leaving you with a sickly sweet mess of what once was. 

you think about what happened earlier, how percy, annabeth, and thalia stepped in to protect you, still the brave kids you had once known so well. how luke is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve silently agreed to give each other the cold shoulder. 

maybe luke is right. maybe all those years away didn’t change anything. 

except — once you leave this temple and the alcohol leaves your system, it won’t be the same. 

none of you are kids anymore, if you ever even were. 

“why’d you go for eros, anyway?” luke asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes his sleeve from your nose since the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. most gods are assholes. and you’re…” luke places a hand close to your leg, pinky finger brushing your thigh. “you.”

“i went for eros because….well, honestly, i don’t think i cared who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with luke is running out. 

luke’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s close enough that he’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on luke’s — messy and urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you move to straddle his waist. you taste wine on his tongue, and maybe a hint of sweet pears, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him. luke’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“luke,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

luke wipes away the blood with his thumb. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s an echo of footsteps on the marble floor. a flower nymph, there to leave an offering and let you know that, while aphrodite encourages acts of love, she prefers it doesn’t happen in her place of worship. 

you realize that aphrodite also might not look so fondly at you kissing someone else in her place of worship after publicly rebuking her own son.

luke untangles himself from you, and you know that he’s been jolted back to reality, too. 

and, just like that, another moment has melted away.

your father was right. time has a way of slipping away for us, immortal or not.

summer — age 18

“hey, you awake?”  

“yeah,” you replied softly. sleep hadn’t been easy, in the days and weeks and months leading up to that final battle with kronos and his army. 

and once it was all over? 

you rested your head on luke’s shoulder, sword discarded at your feet and armour half-removed, as argus, the hundred-eyed security guard of olympus, drove a school bus with a dozen or so demigods back to camp.

“why’d you turn down their offer?” luke whispered.

oh.

"why...why do you ask?"

"i don't know." luke paused. "just curious, i guess."

you closed your eyes and replayed that moment on olympus when you refused the gift of immortality. the look of shock written on the gods’ faces. and on luke’s.

“i don’t care about living forever,” you told him bluntly.

forever seemed too long, especially for someone who was prophesied to die at 18.

you tilted your head up to meet luke’s gaze, and his messy curls brushed against your forehead. evidence of the battle was clear on his face: caked-on dirt and blossoming bruises and dried blood. 

behind him, outside the bus window, the world was flying by. a child who had fallen off their bike being comforted by a friend. two people sharing an mp3 player and a pair of earbuds. an elderly couple walking their dog.

“you once told me that this was our life,” you continued, gesturing towards the weapons and battle-worn kids, some quiet, others crying, many injured. “what if it didn’t have to be?” 

luke furrowed his brow. “do you mean….are you talking about leaving?”

you shrugged. running from monsters for your entire childhood then being the child of the great prophecy was a lot.

a break might be nice.

there was so much about the world, the one you’d fought and bled to protect, that you wanted to experience. 

maybe something closer to a normal life.

“would you ever leave camp?” you wondered, not really answering luke's question. 

“no,” luke replied instantly. his fingers started fiddling with the beads on his necklace. “i can’t just walk away, not after everything.”

“yeah, i get that.” and you did; you really, truly, did. the guilt of wanting to leave camp curled in your stomach like a venomous snake. you took a shaky breath. “let’s talk about this later, yeah? i’m tired, and we have the rest of — ”

the rest of the summer slipped away in the blink of an eye. gone, before you even had a real chance to say goodbye.

you closed your eyes and held on to luke, as if gripping his arm would anchor you to something you weren't ready to let go of, but in some ways needed to move on from.

it was no use, though. 

by the end of august, you’d be gone too. 

now 

you learned early on that the curse of achilles doesn’t protect you from hangovers.

you wake up the morning after the celebration on olympus with a deep, throbbing pain lodged in your temple and an uncomfortable swirling in your gut. parties and late nights at bars are common on tour, which means migraines are, too, so you have a routine to make sure you’re not out of commission for too long.

except this time, the aspirin and blue gatorade and dry toast don’t work. the sting in your brain and uneasiness in your stomach doesn’t go away, even after a few days. you haven’t been able to sleep, either.

desperate for a cure, you consult lou ellen, head counsellor of the hecate cabin, who you’d unexpectedly grown close to in the past few weeks. she mixes something for you, while asking if there’s something that’s been weighing on you.

you couldn't keep it in anymore; you tell her about the summer solstice and luke.  

later, with nothing but your thoughts and percy’s snoring occupying your time post-curfew, you grab your phone and flip it open, deciding to finally reach out to luke, when you get a text from him.

luke is already on the beach when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you sit next to him on the sand, but not too close. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell anyone that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, word travels fast around camp, and i don’t want van finding out. it’s not like it meant anything.”

the throbbing in your brain becomes a sharper sting, the uneasiness in your stomach a tidal wave of nausea.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to luke’s stoic demeanor.

luke shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with eros happened…we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing?” the word tastes bitter in your mouth.

luke turns away before he answers. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he sighs. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. whatever you came here for, it's not here for you. there's nothing to go back to. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, luke.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay luke’s words as you crawl into bed, holding back tears so as to not disturb percy. finally, you swallow a generous amount of whatever concoction lou ellen had brewed up for you.

drifting off into your own sleep, you decide that you don’t love luke anymore. not as a friend, not as a.....

nope. 

according to luke, there's not even anything to go back to.

nothing.

nothing.

[monzabee]

red, white and blue's in the sky (social media au) -

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles has an olympian girlfriend.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader (model used: zehra güneş)

Warnings: none other than some cursing and the internet being the internet, kym illman

Author's Note: hi, hey, hello! okay you guys knew i had to do something with my girls, and i had this idea in my mind for a few weeks that i just couldn't shake! just an fyi, if you end up researching zehra, the face claim, and see her height, just know that we are totally prentending her and charles are both complimentary heights. okay? okay, good. i hope you guys enjoy! xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

ynyln18

Liked by charles_leclerc, volleyballworld, and 782,681 others

ynyln18: ready for the final round, biz voleybol ülkesiyiz!❣️

sauronyx: yn 'the wall' yln! turkey is proud of you!

derevclara: forza ragazze, faremo il tifo per voi!

yasemingul: even the italians are rooting for the turkish team😭

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scuderiaferrari: go red team!❤️

charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️

(translation: the best moment of the match the man's life came out of his mouth) (it's a turkish idiom, so you know it makes no sense at all)

(tiktok transcript: Next up, is Charles Leclerc - who is currently dating Y/N Y/LN, best known for her position as middle blocker. Y/N is a player in the Turkish team, 'Vakifbank', and due to the national team season, she is currently away with the Turkish National Team. As one of the most followed volleyball players in the world, Y/N has been awarded the 'Best Middle Blocker' award from VNL two years in a row - quite the achievement to receive against tens of teams and hundred of players at the young age of only 23. I first met Y/N at the Turkish Grand Prix in 2020, where she was the person to award the Pirelli Pole Position award to Lance Stroll in a turn of events. She was there as the guest of Mercedes, as she is one of the athletes associated with the brand. Charles and Y/N met in 2020 in the Turkish Grand Prix, and the pair has kept in touch and became close friends, eventually coming out as a couple in the summer of the 2021 season. Though we don't get to see Y/N in the paddock very often, she is a delight when she has the time to come and support her boyfriend in the Ferrari garage - a great loss for Toto Wolff, I presume.)

charles_leclerc

Liked by scuderiaferrari, sebastianvettel, ynyln18 and 752,938 others

charles_leclerc: Always special to be part of @scuderiaferrari when in Italy. Thank you for the incredible support throughout the whole week ❤️ Congrats to Carlos for the amazing drive from FP1 to the last lap of the race. See you in Singapore 🇸🇬

ynyln18: je suis fier de toi, mon amour❣️ (i'm proud of you, my love)

charles_leclerc: ti amo❤️

leclerclechair: next weekend will be better!!

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ynyln18

Liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and 688,515 others

ynyln18: champion’s dump🫠 (x2)

pierregasly: liked by pierre gasly

charles_leclerc: casse toi ynyln18: hon hon croissant🥐

tarkanofficial: ❤️🇹🇷🏐

powervolleyballofficial: CHAMPIONS 🇹🇷🏐🏆

harleytifosi: DAI!

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abreusmelissavargas: ben malatyalıyım

charles_leclerc posted a story!

ynyln18

tagged location: Istanbul Contemporary

Liked by handebaladin, abreusmelissavargas, ebrarkarakurt18 and 897,647 others

ynyln18: a week off in istanbul before tokyo, aferin charles öğreniyosun bi şeyler (📸: bawsixteen)

ebrarkarakurt18: kolyen olayım tak beni

formulayolla: SHE TAGGED THE PRIVATE ACCOUNT

pennyzizzazz: yes queen!! make him drop the jpg account!!

ynyln18: working on it, chief🫡

romondo__cr: our turkish wall🇹🇷

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paolaegonu: aşko dur

ynyln18: aşko duramam

charles_leclerc: j'ai une jolie prof😂

charles_leclerc

Liked by kymillman, pierregasly, and 817,524 others

charles_leclerc: Next stop, Japan 🤍❤️ @vistajet @thomasflohrvista

sv5yams: the way this man has no regard for global warming

cl16_tifazzi: really? reeeaaally?

ynyln18: 🥹❤️

volleyyn: is he coming to see you? is he?👀 charles_leclerc: of course❤️

charlesleclerc_fanclub_italia: good luck in suzuka!! we believe in you!!

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ynyln18

tagged location: Tokyo, Japan

Liked by kpvolley, fileninsultanlarivn, and love4wags 765,928 others

ynyln18: daydreaming about paris in the summer

charles_leclerc: madonna mia❤️

paulaegonu: Y/N, chi è quest'uomo? ynyln18: la mia musa

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hasankaya: olympic medal is loading!

lilymhe: best of luck!🩷

[boredflautist]

quotes that keep me alive

"all the people are fake, they're made out of metal. But I like you, and that is not fake" -young royals

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world." -song of achilles

"No one ever says goodbye unless they want to see you again." -turtles all the way down

"I want to be with you. If we have to keep it a secret then... So be it, if thats the only way... But no more secrets between us. I love you" -young royals

"Why does the word 'love' from you hurt me so damn much?" -Only Friends

"I've always thought Ray was my 25th hour, my extra hour. But the truth is, everyone has the same 24 hours in a day. And within Ray's 24 hours, I'm not part of it. I'm not that special." -Only Friends

"If I'm gone, I won't be anyone's burden anymore, right?" -Only Friends

"You were wearing corduroy, acting like a poster boy" -poster boy by Lyn Lapid

"I would recognize you in total darkness, were you mute and I deaf. I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely, in different bodies, different times. And I would love you in all of this, until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion" -song of achilles

"Tell me every terrible thing that you ever did, and let me love you anyway" -edgar allan poe

"The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you... I can't breathe. I'm haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that that kiss will not become a scar. You are in my very soul, tormenting me... What can I do? I will do anything that you ask." -anakin skywalker

"If changin' my clothes would make you like me more, if changing my hair would make you care, then I'd grab the kitchen scissors and cut myself to slivers" -jigsaw by conan gray

"'Sorry' doesn't make up for everything you did to me." -heartstopper

"You were my brother Anakin. I loved you." -revenge of the sith

"The truth is what I make it. I could set the world on fire, and call it rain." -red queen

" But isn't it also that on some fundamental level we find it difficult to understand that other people are human beings in the same way that we are? We idolize them as gods or dismiss them as animals." -paper towns

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'I love you'" -somethin' stupid by frank sinatra

"Tell me it isn't true. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me I'm blind. Tell me you love me. " -shatter me

"I do want to be your friend. I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with. The one you take into your arms and into your bed and into the private world you keep trapped in your head. I want to be that kind of friend." -shatter me

"The truth is a painful reminder of why I prefer to live among the lies" -shatter me

"'Don't ask me questions you already know the answers to. Twice I've laid myself bare for you and all it's gotten me was a bullet wound and a broken heart. Don't torture me,' He says, meeting my eyes again. 'It's a cruel thing to do, even to someone like me.'" -shatter me

"Everything's a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win." -inheritance games

"The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive." -the last olympian "You think I didn't fight the same fight? I halfway convinced myself that as long as Avery was just a riddle or a puzzle, as long as I was just playing, I'd be fine. Well, joke's on me, because somewhere along the way, I stopped playing." -the Hawthorne legacy

"When you're ready, if you're ever ready, if it's going to be me - just flip that disk. Heads, I kiss you." His voice broke slightly. "Tails, you kiss me. And either way, it means something." -the Hawthorne legacy

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here" -william shakespeare

"But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all" -10 things I hate about you

"It's just like the novels, side characters end up alone" -footnote by conan gray

"You made us past tense," I said, my voice cracking, "not me." -betting on you

"Because when they write the history of my life, I want it to include you" -red white and royal blue

"My life is the crown, and yours is just politics, and I will not trade one prison for another" -red white and royal blue

"Or maybe it was when I realized the bruises on your neck were fingerprints and wanted to kill them all over again just so I could do it slowly. Maybe it was the first time I recklessly kissed you or when I realized I'm fucked because I can't stop thinking about doing more than just kissing you. Does it even matter when, as long as it changed between us?" -fourth wing

"Oh darling all of the cities lights, never shined as bright as your eyes" -car's outside by james arthur

"I would rather lose this entire war than live without you, and if that means I have to prove myself over and over again, then I'll do it. You gave me your heart and I'm keeping it." -iron flame

"Because pain in the body quiets the pain in your head. It feels good - like a kill switch for your brain" -kill switch

"Then take your punishment like the pathetic creature that you are" -cruel prince

"Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop." -cruel prince

"If you're the sickness, I suppose you can't also be the cure." -the wicked king

"I hate you. I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else." -the wicked king

"Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can." -the wicked king

"She is my wife," Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. "The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile." -the queen of nothing

"By you, I am forever undone." -the queen of nothing

"Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you just. Just come home." -the queen of nothing

"I wasted all those yesterdays and am completely out of tomorrows" -they both die at the end

"For what it's worth, I doubt I will ever like anyone else in the world as much as I like you." -book lovers

"I'd never thought about my favorite color before. It never seemed important. Not until I looked into a pair of ocean-blue eyes and realized that perhaps drowning was a beautiful thing" -powerless

<3

if you've made it to the end good god please get some sleep

[cranberryjuice-posts]

I’m abt to post a new clarisse FIC but I just wanted to go on a rant abt this

SPOILERS FOR PJO

Clarisse and silena Were in love. Ive already made a post abt thhis before but I wanna just like elaborate

- “Clarisse is in love with Chris and silena is in love with Charles beckendorf”

Yes that’s true but have you ever noticed how differently clarisse treats female characters vrs male characters. She softer and while still a bitch not an actually shitty person to characters like for example annabeth, silena and more, in the sea of monsters she was concerned for annabeth after she broke her ribs but in the next line insulted Percy.

She is also seen countless times being kinder to annabeth in multiple different scenes while still be harsh to other male characters. She gets ruthless in the war meeting in the final book and all she said is “I apologize to only silena” or something like that. When have we ever seen clarisse apologize than to silena

- “clarisse went into the labyrinth to find Chris she loved him”

Clarisse went into the labyrinth to find Chris, the only reason for this was because he showed up to her house in Arizona. She felt responsible to get him back from camp. She also helped nurse him back to sanity until Dionysius could help.

Clarisse felt responsible for Chris, that’s why and she can still love him platonically. That’s how I’ve always viewed their relationship was them being platonic.

- “silena and clarisse Were Just good friends that’s it”

Clarisse and silena Are direct parallels to Achilles and Patroclus, two characters in the Iliad who are very clearly lovers.

I Said it once I’ll say it again, Rick most likely didn’t think about making both girls the parallels to the myth until he was already writing the book. If he had decided on that way before I firmly believe he would of made them both together

But I would also like to add his books came out in the early 2000’s the last Olympian coming out in 2009 and queer represantion wasn’t as “common” as it is now. With Disney also being his publisher he was probably hesitant to even introduce a gay character in his books let alone two sapphic women.

Yes we started to see change for queer identies in the early 2000’s we also have to still think that again Disney is ricks publisher, even Disney didn’t really start being more accepting of LGBTQ+ identies until recently.

- “well if all that’s true why didn’t Rick just make them in love in the final book”

I Just explained why above but also he had already written their relationships out, silena and beckendorf in the demigod diaries or which ever one it was and clarisse and Chris in the battle of the labyrinth.

He can’t just go back and completely rewrite the cannon relationships he has set without it being weird.

——

In the end even actors like Dior who plays clarisse says that her character and silena will have a more sapphic relationship and with the show coming out now and with season 2 being announced, Rick having cannon gay characters a whole book about nico and will who are to young men in a relationship going through Tartarus, I belive Rick will make silena and clarisse have a more romantic relationship compared to the books.

Also we’re going to be seeing a lot of change anyways, Rick wrote these books YEARS ago and of course like any artist you will critique your old work. So again I hope we see a more developed and romantic relationship between silena and clarisse especially since Clarisse is very much a lesbian coded character

That’s it Ty for coming to my Ted talk 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

[anotheroceanid]

Thanks for answering my previous ask! My anxiety is easier to deal with when people are kind even though I'm also shy 🥹 I hope everything went well with your exam!

I mean Luke wouldn't ever consider Gaia an ally, in fact I'm sure that his hatred would only fuel up his plans to try and backstab her 😅

I do love a happy ending so ofc I like imagining Percy seeing her kids are alive and getting therapy; as well as imagining Hector and Milo, who have been out in the world for years, teaching Luke everything there is to see (very disney like 😆)

Btw, I thought someone would have mentioned it by now? Like we all know Annabeth is the last person who saw Percy but in chapter 3, as she is thinking about what she regrets not doing for her friends before leaving (like breaking her promise to Nico), she mentions (and I quote) "Percy would be forever sour that she never told Annabeth she wasn’t really mad at her".

Does that mean that, not only was Annabeth the last person to see her, but also, that their last conversation was an argument or even a fight? 🥺

(Also, the Olympians would have more than two nickels for the scarred Luke's considering their demigod history before Percy 😅)

❥︎OnceMika

You’re welcome 💕

Luke is hard to conquer 😂 people will look at that chubby face, rosy cheeks, blue starry eyes and think he’s a cinnamon roll… well… He was slapping Gaea off vibes.

We ARE getting happy ending, that I can promise. It’ll take a while, tho. 😭 And I loooove the Disney like vibes, so we’re definitely getting some of this too. Especially in the boys’ POVs. I mean, who does better gut wrenching kid stories that will make you cry but will end warming your heart somehow 😂💕

About Percy and Annabeth, their specifc last talk wasn’t a fight. The thing is, though PJO and HOO have a very little gap between the wars and PTSD is not directly addressed in the books. In WTHB the Giant War hasn’t even started yet, and the kids are trying to cope with their traumas in ways that not always are, well, healthy.

They had an entire year of both great euphoria for surviving and also a lot of mental damage. They’re very stressed, to say the least. So at some point, people started to unleash on each other. It’s not only Percy and Annabeth.

Without spoilers, what happened was: at the point it happened, Percy was already pregnant and already received the prophecy, and Annabeth had been so overworked with rebuilding Olympus and it turned out extremely emotional.

The topic, unfortunately, was also a bit delicate for both of them, in different ways.

[tsarisfanfiction]

The Attack of the Demon Pigeons

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Will Solace, Lee Fletcher, Michael Yew, Apollo Cabin After encountering Stymphalian birds on his way to camp, Will had hoped to never see them again. He certainly hadn't expected to ever encounter them in Camp Half-Blood itself. Okay, so I've thrown TSATS out the window for a lot of reasons, but I did like the potential trauma of what happens when the Stymphalian birds attacked the camp in SOM if Will's already had a bad time with them, so I've snuck an encounter with them into my Will timeline and figured I'd write a fic about the SOM attack from his pov. I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi!

Lee hadn’t stopped complaining about the chariot race since it was announced.  It wasn’t like Will’s older brother to be so stressed out about a camp activity, and he’d been a little surprised at just how upset he was about the race’s return – at least, until Lee mentioned that it was the reason Marisa only had one arm.  Will remembered the previous head counsellor for Ares well, even though she’d left two summers ago.  The stump of her right bicep had always looked painful.

Now, Will was worried about it, too.  He wasn’t sure why they were even entering – the Vinther twins from cabin twelve had point blank refused, and neither the Aphrodite nor Demeter kids had even considered it – but despite Lee’s vocal dismay they were.

“Be careful,” Lee insisted as Morton and Daisy hitched their two horses up, Michael standing alongside the chariot and counting out arrows.

It was Lee’s insistence that had convinced Michael not to use sharp arrows, too.  “We don’t need a repeat of your first summer,” Will had heard him say.  “There’s going to be enough work for us to do after the race without you adding to it.”  Will hadn’t been around for Michael’s first summer, but he’d heard the stories.  Michael, for his part, had rolled his eyes and made a show out of only adding blunted arrows to his quiver.

Blunted arrows were still going to hurt, but Michael had point blank refused to not shoot anyone at all, arguing that they were certainly going to be attacked themselves so why shouldn’t he return the favour, and bruising was much easier to fix than whatever else Lee thought they were going to have to deal with at the end.  Will very much hoped there wouldn’t be any limbs torn off this time.

He certainly hoped no-one was going to die.

“You’re good to go,” Daisy said to Morton and Michael, completely ignoring Lee as she held the head of the horse closest to her.  She and Morton were the animal-lovers of the cabin – it had been obvious that one of them would be their driver, and Daisy had passed the honour straight over in a sign that she, too, wasn’t happy about the race.

She hadn’t been in camp for the last one, the one that had gone so badly wrong it was immortalised as a golden chariot on a crimson bead on Lee’s camp necklace – Lee and Silena from the Aphrodite cabin were the only ones in camp that had that bead now, the only campers that remembered it happening, rather than simply hearing the stories – but she was one of the rare demigods who had a full-blooded sibling, and her elder sister Emily had been in camp at the time.

Will also didn’t think it was a coincidence that Michael was making up the other half of their chariot team.  Not only was he the best archer in the cabin, but he also healed fast.  Morton was a faster healer than Daisy, too.

“Then let’s get this over with,” Morton sighed, jumping into the chariot and taking the reins.  “Ready, Michael?”

Michael snorted, dropping one last blunt arrow into his quiver and shouldering his bow before lightly springing into the chariot behind him.  Seeing his siblings in the chariot showed Will just how not-safe it looked – there was nothing for either of them to hold onto.  All Morton had were the reins, which he couldn’t pull on hard otherwise the horses would rear up.  Michael had nothing except the side, which he couldn’t hold onto whilst shooting, and his own sense of balance.

“I’ll walk you to the track,” Daisy said.  “Lee, if you say be careful one more time I’m gagging you.  We get it, stop scaring Will.”

Usually, Lee would make some sort of light-hearted protest about how he was the head counsellor when one of their older siblings – Daisy was eighteen and would be leaving camp to start vet college in the fall – told him what to do, so when his shoulders slumped slightly with a sigh, Will found himself even more worried.

“Sorry, Will,” his brother said, putting an arm around his shoulders before raising his head to look at the rest of their siblings, who were all watching Daisy lead the chariot with their brothers in towards the track.  “Let’s get to the stands, guys.  We want good seats.”

Good seats apparently did not equate front row seats.  Lee firmly shepherded them all near the back of the stands, grabbing Nathan and Robyn by their collars when they tried to head to the front.  “Not the front,” he said.

“Aren’t you being a little too paranoid about this?” Nathan grumbled.  Will had heard the arguments about why couldn’t he be their fighter earlier – Michael had won by challenging him to a shoot-out.  Nathan wasn’t a bad archer (he was certainly better than Will, despite only arriving at camp few months ago), but even in their cabin, no-one came close to Michael.

“If nothing goes wrong and no-one gets badly hurt, then you can complain at me for being too paranoid,” Lee told him.  “And I’ll apologise for ruining the race for you.  Until then, we’re listening to my ‘paranoia’, as you call it.”

No-one else complained after that.

It wasn’t just Lee who was notably on edge.  The other head counsellor that had forced her entire cabin as far back in the stands as possible was Silena, and Will saw her and Lee share a worried look as the Aphrodite kids settled onto the stone steps, most of them apparently completely uninterested in the race.

“Your cabin’s competing?” Will heard Silena ask Lee quietly.  “I didn’t think you would.”

Lee’s answer was even quieter and his tone was as dark as Will had ever heard it.  “We weren’t given a choice.”  His tone lowered even more, until Will could hardly hear what he was saying.  “He made sure all the lead cabins in the camp’s defences took part.”

The rest of the campers jostled around on the other steps, all clearly trying to sit as far away from Tantalus as possible, leaving the poor nymphs and satyrs forced to watch as a barrier between them.  Will was glad Lee had made sure they were nowhere near their new activities director.

Daisy made her way up to join them as Morton drove the chariot the last few yards onto the track, into a gap between the Ares and Hermes chariots.  Will couldn’t hear what was being said, but he could see Michael nocking an arrow as he snapped at the Stoll brothers in the Hermes chariot next to him.  Connor was gesturing at the arrow in what looked a lot like protest, but if Lee hadn’t been able to talk Michael down any more than blunted arrows, then someone from another cabin didn’t stand a chance in Tartarus.

Morton seemed determined to ignore everything except their horses, even when Murder (Will had never understood that nickname, but that was Ares kids for you) leaned over the side of his chariot to say something before Clarisse pulled him back with a short command.

Next to Will, Lee was almost vibrating, clearly impatient for the race to be finished already.  Will grabbed his hand, and got a squeeze in return.

Below them, the Poseidon chariot’s horses needed calming by Percy – Will guessed they weren’t happy about Tyson, which he thought was entirely fair, the cyclops was big and rather scary – and then finally all the chariots were ready to go.

Movement caught Will’s eye, and he glanced up at the trees.  The chariot race seemed to have even drawn in spectating birds, which seemed a little unusual but nothing completely out of the ordinary for camp.  Crows and doves in particular were common sights, but there was something about these that put Will on edge.

It was probably Lee’s paranoia rubbing off on him, he told himself, especially when he thought he saw a glint of something shiny – too shiny to be a crow or a dove.  He tore his eyes away and forced himself to look at the chariots again as they jostled into their positions on the starting line.  Michael had stopped arguing with the Stolls, but his bowstring now had two arrows on it instead of one.  Morton’s mouth was moving but Will couldn’t tell if he was talking to Michael or the horses.  He certainly wasn’t talking to Clarisse or Murder, who looked like they were having their own last-minute strategy discussion.

More birds flew throught his periphery and he pressed against Lee’s side.  They were just normal birds, he told himself.  Birds that weren’t normal couldn’t get into camp.  They couldn’t.  It didn’t matter that he and his siblings all carried bows and full quivers at all times now because sometimes monsters were breaking through the barrier.  It didn’t.

Lee let go of his hand and wrapped his arm back around his shoulders again, pulling him in tightly.  “Sorry, did I scare you that much?” his brother asked quietly.  Will shook his head, then jumped as the birds started to caw.

It wasn’t, it wasn’t, it wasn’t-

But he knew that sound.

“Will?”  Lee sounded worried, and Will looked up to see his brother looking down at him, dark blue eyes filled with concern.  “Will, are you okay?”

His quiet question drew the attention of some of the rest of the cabin, and Will swallowed.  “I don’t like the birds,” he admitted.

“The birds?”  Lee blinked, as though he hadn’t expected that.  It wasn’t like Lee didn’t know about the birds that had attacked Will and Thistleberry on their way to camp, but his brother had obviously thought it was something to do with the race.  “It’s okay, Will,” he said, a soft smile slipping onto his face as he glanced over towards the birds himself.  “They’re just- oh.”

“Oh?” Nathan asked, leaning in and almost crushing Will.  “They’re just birds, right?  Noisy fuckers.”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Michael,” Daisy muttered.  She was ignored.

“Are you going to tell us the birds are making you paranoid, too?” Robyn added.  “Should we be ready to shoot them if they startle the horses or something?”

Lee sighed.  “Guys,” he said.  “I get it, you’re annoyed at me.”

“I don’t like those birds, either,” Daisy backed him up.  She knew about Will’s history, too, unlike the other two.  “They’re not the normal ones we get around camp.”

The birds were getting louder, and Will burrowed further into Lee’s side.  Around him, the rest of the campers were starting to murmur, so it wasn’t just him that was bothered.  Lee’s reaction made him think that maybe he wasn’t being paranoid – or maybe Lee was being extra paranoid.  Will definitely wished for the second option.

Below them, Tantalus didn’t seem to care about the noisy birds at all as he announced the start of the race, and Will forced himself to watch as the chariots all surged forwards, hoping that the race would go smoothly, that everything was fine-

He shrieked as Travis lurched the Hermes chariot sideways and it smashed straight into the wheel of their golden chariot.

“No!” Lee shouted almost in his ear, but it wasn’t just Lee as they all watched Morton and Michael get thrown out, the wooden chariot splintering.  Caught by the reins, Morton’s fall wasn’t clean and Will saw his wrist jerk, clearly breaking as he crashed into the ground.

Michael, unrestrained, ended up in a roll that looked almost controlled as he landed heavily, flipping over until he was on the balls of his feet, bow fully drawn.  The nocked arrows flew towards the Hermes chariot, but the Stolls didn’t even notice the shafts tangling in their wheels as the panicking horses cut them off, obliterating their chariot in turn.

Both of them were thrown clear, not too dissimilarly to Morton and Michael, and wisely scrabbled away from both the mess of chariots and panicking horses, and Michael as he stood up, nocking more arrows.  Morton was slower to get to his feet, and was obviously cradling his broken wrist as he did so, but next to him, Will felt Lee relax slightly.

They were okay.  Michael didn’t seem to be injured at all, although there were probably some bumps and scrapes they couldn’t see, and Morton only seemed to be worried about his wrist.  Given Lee’s stories, and Marisa’s arm, it could have been a lot worse.

It was Morton that pulled Michael back from shooting the Stolls again, gesturing with his head to the horses.  Daisy was quivering in her seat, and some of the Aphrodite kids – Silena included – were no better, as the four horses kept struggling.  The chariots had to get off the track, and the horses needed calming down, but the moment some of them tried to move to go help, Tantalus’ head swivelled around.

"No interference," he reminded them all, voice raised just enough to be heard above the shrieking birds.  It sounded a bit like a threat.

Will watched as Morton and Michael approached the wreckage, the Stolls joining them – after putting their hands up in surrender when Michael glared at them and snapped something Will couldn’t hear over the birds – and started trying to free the horses.  Morton had the golden touch with the animals, while Michael and the Stolls carefully dodged hooves to cut them loose.  Next to Will, Lee had tensed again, and Will could understand why.  Horses were dangerous – if any of them took a hoof to the head, they could be killed.

The other chariots were still thundering around the track.  Beckendorf and Jake were trying to regain control of their chariot after failing to pull something on Percy and Tyson, while Annabeth and Conrad were barrelling into the lead, pursued by both the Poseidon and Ares chariots.

Will barely noticed any of that, though, because that was the moment the birds attacked.

Someone screamed.

Several someones screamed.

Will was one of them.

He knew these birds, knew those beaks that were tearing at him, getting caught in his hair and digging at his arms as he tried to batter them away before Lee pushed him down, crouching over him as Will curled up into a defensive ball.  He was vaguely aware of his siblings moving around him, nocking arrows to strings as further away the cries of shields! came from where the Athena kids had been sitting.

“Stay down, Will,” Lee said, his voice tight.  He sounded hurt, and blood dripped onto the stone by Will’s face.  Next to him, he heard Nathan swearing.

“I can’t get a clear shot!” one of his other siblings cried – Will thought it might have been Lear but with so much screaming it was hard to tell.

“They’re too close!” someone else shouted.

One of the Aphrodite kids screeched almost as loudly as the birds.

“Group together!” Lee ordered, and Will found himself pulled into a mass of bodies.  “Daisy- Michael?”

“I can’t get a fucking shot from the ground!” Will heard Michael yell back.  He sounded close, and out of breath.  “And I need arrows with fucking points!”

Will’s own quiver dug into his side.  He didn’t know where his bow was.

“Michael!” he shouted, fumbling with the strap.

“Will, stay down!” Lee shouted.

“Fuck, Will!  Where-”  Will unfurled himself enough to spot familiar boots and grabbed at Michael’s ankle.  Immediately, beaks tore into his exposed arm, and he half-screamed, half-sobbed.  “Fuckers!” his brother swore, lashing out with his other foot and kicking away the birds.

They went for Michael instead, but aside from a constant stream of curses, his brother ignored them as he fought his way past Nathan – who hadn’t stopped swearing, either – to duck down underneath where Lee was still looming over Will.  Michael didn’t bother asking if he was okay – he knew, too, about Will’s history with the birds.  He staggered, as though something had hit him from behind, and over his shoulder Will saw massive dark wings.

“Stay down,” he snapped when Will tried to move, realising that between Lee and Michael and someone else – Daisy, maybe – he was completely hemmed in by his siblings.  Protected by his siblings.  The realisation made tears well in his eyes.

“Arrows,” he said, fumbling with his quiver again.  He didn’t know where his bow was, couldn’t shoot well enough to take down the birds even if he could – he thought he could, when he’d trained and trained and trained, but now the birds were here and all he could do was cower and tremble and hate himself for being so scared – and Michael needed arrows.

His brother understood.

Michael’s small, deft fingers – they were smaller than Will’s, now, and it had always been obvious that he was going to out-grow Michael one day but he still hadn’t been ready for the day it happened – pushed his out the way and with a quick twist had the buckle loose.  “Stay down,” he said again, somehow fastening the quiver around his own waist and dropping his own in the process, before grabbing his bow again.  “I’ve got some birds to fucking kill.”

He stood up, amid shouts of no clear shot from their siblings, and snarled.

“Be careful!” Will heard Lee caution.

“Everyone’s got plenty of fucking holes in them already,” Michael snapped.  “A few more won’t make any fucking difference.”

“Michael!”

Anything else Lee had to say was drowned out by the sudden explosion of ear-splitting violins at maximum volume.  Will recognised one of Chiron’s CDs when he heard it, although he didn’t know which album it was.

The identity of the music was much less important than the cry of “archers!” from somewhere below – Annabeth, of course it was Annabeth that had thought of it – and the ripple that ran through his siblings as they shifted from crouching and cowering to standing up straight.  Will poked his head up as well to see the birds fleeing in a dazed cacophony, colliding with each other.

Michael was the first to shoot, what looked like half a quiver nocked to his string.  Every single one turned one of the birds into an explosion of dust.  Lee was half a second behind him, multiple arrows on his own string, and Will fumbled for his own bow – spotting it lying abandoned where he’d been sat – and arrows from Michael’s discarded quiver as the rest of his siblings followed suit.

Will could only shoot one arrow at a time, and all he had were Michael’s blunted ones, but he still forced himself to join his siblings in sending a hail of shafts into the sky.  It turned out that even blunt arrows could hit with enough force to dust some, although they couldn’t do what Michael’s sharp shots were doing and occasionally piercing several with one arrow.

It felt like an eternity before they were all gone, a layer of dust covering the ground and remains of the Apollo and Hermes chariots all that remained of those that hadn’t managed to get out of range fast enough.

The campers were a mess.

Will looked down at his exposed skin, where blood was trickling down from where he’d been pecked, and then at everyone else.  No-one was unscathed.  Lee had several deep gouges in the back of his neck, and Daisy’s hands were riddled with holes, while Michael’s face dripped red.  No-one else was any better off, and Will sank down to sit on the stone steps again shakily.

A warm arm wrapped around him and he looked up to see Lee sitting next to him.

“They’re gone now, Will,” his brother told him.  “It’s over.”

“I am going to shoot all fucking birds on sight now,” Michael grumbled on Lee’s other side – Daisy immediately protested, but went ignored, much like the entire Apollo cabin was ignoring Tantalus declaring Clarisse the winner.  Will tried to listen to see if he was saying anything about organising triage, but he only seemed to care about talking nonsense instead.

Lee nudged him softly, picking up his arm where it was bleeding and scrutinising it carefully.  “Let’s get you healed up,” he said.  “We’ll need your help patching everyone else up.”  He chanted a prayer to their father, and Will watched as his cuts stopped stinging so badly and started to heal up.

“I’ll start rounding people up for triage once he’s finished loving the sound of his own voice,” Daisy said, jerking her head towards Tantalus, and Lee nodded.

“Thanks,” he said.  “Michael, how badly were you and Morton hurt in the crash?”

Michael huffed.  “I’m fine,” he said.  “Don’t worry about me.  Morton’s wrist is fucked and he got a few scrapes but he’ll be fine, too.”

“I take it you didn’t look at Travis and Connor?” Lee asked, sounding a little bemused.

“Of course I fucking didn’t,” Michael grumbled.  “Fucking assholes.”

Lee laughed a little.  “I’ll catch up with them later,” he said, as Tantalus finally stopped proclaiming how the whole thing was Annabeth, Percy and Tyson’s fault – yet somehow not Conrad’s, despite it supposedly being the Athena and Poseidon chariots to blame – and dismissed them to clear up the mess.  “They look fine from up here.”

Will glanced down to see the Stolls taking charge of the Hermes cabin.  They had the same red specks as everyone else, but otherwise Lee didn’t seem to be wrong.  “They can wait,” he agreed, and Michael smirked.  Lee shook his head, but he was smiling, too.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” he said.  “Michael, you’re on arrow collection duty with Nathan.  Don’t shoot anyone, including each other, and if anyone comes to you guys for healing send them to the triage nicely.  Even the Stolls, although I think they’ve got better self-preservation than to go near you right now, Michael.  Will, you and Robyn are with me in the infirmary.  Everyone else, triage – if it’s not bad enough to need healing, clean punctures, put band-aids on and send them towards the other head counsellors to help in clearing this mess.  Anyone worse, to the infirmary.  No-one’s cleared to give out ambrosia or nectar – if they need it, infirmary.  Start with each other.  Lear, take over organising the campers from Daisy – I know she’d rather deal with the horses.  And make sure Morton comes to the infirmary rather than the stables!”

Will pulled himself to his feet as his siblings dispersed in groups of two or three, checking each other over as they headed for the bulk of the campers.

“You’re hurt,” he said, looking at Lee’s gouges, and his brother smiled reassuringly at him.

“It’s fine,” he promised.  “Let’s get to the infirmary first, then you can patch me up, okay?  I want to be there before patients start showing up.”

Will eyed the blood dubiously, but Lee pulled him along before he could say anything else.  Robyn had already run on ahead, nursing her own wounds as she did so, and Lee forged a path straight to the Big House, dodging around Mr D. when the god made a brief appearance, took in the state of the camp, and disappeared inside again.

All around them there was activity.  Silena was pacifying some of her distraught siblings and nudging them towards where Lear had taken over from Daisy in corralling the camp.  Will could see why Lee had picked him to do that – he and Daisy were both eighteen, but where Daisy was average height and more interested in making sure the horses were okay, Lear was tall and muscular and willing to wrangle campers.  Much like his older brother, Brandon, who had left camp two years ago – like Daisy, he was the younger of a pair of rare full siblings – he was going to be headed straight for the basketball leagues in the fall.  Lear was impossible to miss, and difficult to disagree with when he put his foot down.

Clarisse was organising the Ares cabin.  None of them had even considered approaching healers, and Will wondered how long it was going to take Lee to hunt them down, but despite their wounds, they were all grimly reorganising what sounded like camp defences.  Beckendorf had taken the lead on organising the clear-up of the racetrack, complete with the debris from the destroyed chariots, and from the sound of it was welcoming volunteers from all cabins.

It was almost a relief when they made it to the infirmary, away from the chaos of the camp.  Robyn had got there first and was already pulling out bandages and antiseptic wipes in preparation for the long line of patients they were no doubt going to get, and Will made Lee sit down as he inspected his older brother’s wounds.

“You didn’t have to shield me,” he said as he cleaned them, trying to ignore Lee’s wincing.  “You or Michael or Daisy or-”

“The older ones shielded all of us,” Robyn interrupted him, depositing vials of nectar on the desk.  “It wasn’t just you, Will.”  She gestured at the wounds on her own arms.  Like him, now that Will looked closely, she didn’t actually have many.

“Older sibling prerogative,” Lee shrugged, wincing again as Will dabbed a bit more at a particularly deep gouge.  “Daisy was trying to shelter me, too.”  He reached for Robyn’s arm.  “Let me look at those while Will deals with me.  Don’t think I missed you running on ahead without getting checked out.  We’ve talked about this, Robyn.”

“I wanted to get the infirmary ready,” she protested, but obeyed anyway, letting Lee wipe her wounds and chant another little prayer to Apollo.  Satisfied that Lee’s wounds were clean, Will hummed his own healing hymn, watching the gouges seal up beneath his hands.

He was done just in time for the first patients to limp through the door.

Despite Lee’s earlier orders that only the seriously injured come to the infirmary, most of the camp passed through their doors at some point.  The Ares kids had to be hunted down – Murder’s fingers had been pecked to the bone when he’d apparently tried to hold a camouflage net over himself and Clarisse as a defence, but he hadn’t walked in until Lear had all but picked him up and thrown him through the door – but most came willingly.  No-one, it seemed, wanted to run the risk of being scarred by birds.  Even most of the Ares kids didn’t seem to think that being pecked was a particularly badass scar story to tell and caved to medical attention eventually.

By the time they were done, Will was exhausted, and Lee and Robyn didn’t seem much better.  Their siblings had come to join them once initial triage was over – even Michael had ended up hanging out in the corner after he and Nathan had retrieved all the arrows they could, although most of what he did was to snap at anyone who tried to push ahead in the queue and threaten them with more holes if they disobeyed – but treating the entire camp in the space of a couple of hours was still a tall order.

Tantalus and his side comments about demigods being wimps nowadays didn’t help, either.

Will missed Chiron.

As the last patients – the Stolls, who had been left until last because they weren’t that badly hurt and had made the fundamental mistake of upsetting the healers by knocking two of their own out of a chariot – finally left, Will flopped down onto one of the beds.  Robyn flaked out on the floor, while Lee slumped into a chair next to them.  Michael shoved a small vial of nectar at each of them, and Will gratefully drank his as he watched Morton, wrist freshly casted, slink out of the door to no doubt join Daisy in the stables with the horses.

“Fucking chariot races,” Michael muttered into the blissful quiet of the emptied infirmary.  “I won’t be doing that again.”

Nathan, who had flopped on the floor next to Robyn for no reason other than to keep her company, perked up.  “Does that mean I get to be fighter next time?”

“There will be no next time,” Lee grumbled.

“Be my fucking guest,” Michael said at the same time.  “See how you like getting thrown out of a fucking chariot.”

He’d refused medical treatment until everyone else – except the Stolls – had been treated, and wasn’t impressed to find out that he’d actually got a light sprain to his ankle which he’d somehow completely missed during all of the excitement.  Will and Lee had both chewed him out for not letting them check him over earlier.

“There will be no next time,” Lee repeated firmly.

After that morning, Will was firmly on Lee’s side.

“How are you doing, Will?” Lee asked him after a few moments.  He wasn’t asking about Will’s post-healing exhaustion and they both knew it.

Will’s hand curled into a fist.  “I was scared,” he admitted.  “I couldn’t-”  He’d trained to fight them but he’d just hidden.

“Nothing wrong with being scared,” Michael told him bluntly when he broke off, before Lee could say anything.  He perched on the side of the bed Will was flopped on.  “You still shot them down.  I saw you.  With fucking blunt arrows, too.”

He hadn’t realised Michael had even been paying attention to his shooting.

“Not as-”

“If you’re about to say not as many as me, I’m going to stuff these bandages in your mouth,” Michael threatened, gesturing at the ones wrapped around his ankle.  Will’s mouth shut with a clack.  “It wasn’t a fucking competition, Will.  You stood up and you shot those fuckers even though Lee and I both told you to stay the fuck down.”

Was Michael telling him off for disobeying them?  Indignation flooded through him – sure, he’d been scared, but if Michael thought he was really just going to hide under them like a coward-!

Will pushed himself into a sitting position, only to see that his older brothers were both smiling at him.

“You were scared but you didn’t let that stop you,” Lee told him.  “That was really brave, Will.”

Will felt his cheeks heat up.  “But I-”

“But nothing,” Lee said.  “None of us are Herakles – we can’t take down a flock of those things single-handedly.  Not even Michael.”

“I could,” Michael grumbled quietly, and Lee shushed him.

���You’d get torn to shreds by a flock that large before you killed half of them,” he pointed out.  Michael threw an unused roll of bandages at Nathan when the younger boy laughed at him from the floor.

“You’d get torn apart first,” he snarled at him.

“Wanna bet?”  Will couldn’t see Nathan, but he could hear the cocky smirk in his voice.

“No,” Lee intervened before Michael could reply – and probably accept it, if Will knew his brother at all.  “Both of you, stop it.  Neither of you are having a competition to see how many Stymphalian birds you can shoot down before they kill you.  Or any other substitute for them, either.  Anyway,” he stressed, turning to look at Will again, “my point is that we’ll always have to work together to take down some things – a lot of things, actually.  So it’s not a bad thing that you can’t do it alone.  You’re not alone, Will.”

“Damn straight you’re not,” Michael agreed, nudging him in the side with an elbow.

Will knew he wasn’t alone.  He hadn’t been alone since he’d arrived at camp and discovered he had twenty or so half-siblings.  Even in the winter months, when most of them went home, there were still several – Lee, Michael, Daisy and Robyn among them – that stayed.  It was harder to find somewhere alone than to be with someone.

He still found himself bursting into tears, reaching out blindly for one of his siblings.

It was Lee that wrapped him up in his arms, almost pulling him off of the bed and into his lap, but there was a hand in his hair that was too small to be anyone’s except Michael’s and more hands on his shoulders.  Will sobbed into his brother’s shoulder, clinging to Lee tightly in turn.

The birds had been terrifying and he was exhausted from several hours of healing, but his siblings were proud of him and he hadn’t run away, had been brave, according to Lee.

Will still didn’t feel very brave.  But right then, he felt safe.

[chromochaotic]

Reads of 2023 Part II (so far)

i was sad i couldn't fit all the cover pictures in my Part I post without it going off the screen, so might as well split it into 2 posts! update as of 6/11!

thoughts/reviews:

Heaven Official's Blessing: Volume 1

It's happening! My friends have been deep in this author's works/fandom for a while now, I'm pretty late to the party... Well, I guess I've dabbled in some of the animated/live action content that's out there for the different series. Anyway, this was a fun read! There's something so lush about historical dramas that definitely comes through here. When you add in the bits of humor and adventure, the whole story is really refreshing.

Even though the translation is still a tiny bit unprofessional, it's clearer than other options, haha. I was able to get a way better sense of the world and characters on this attempt (I had a good time watching the animated show! But as my friend put it, the season moved lightning fast, so it brushed over a lot of things). I don't have any other real nitpicks, other than like... the odd sexism that pops up now and then. Lmao

I am ofc in love with the main characters... They invented love... They invented devotion... I'm also delighted by the pace of things! Their relationship has managed to be both teasingly slow (like, the gradual reveal of Hua Cheng's true identity) but also very satisfyingly forward (the escorting!! the painting!! the righteous anger!!). Excited to see where things go with them, and the rest of the cast! (3.5/5—would be a 4, but the translation still kind of hampers things.)

Naomi Vandoren's Forest of Light

The second art book I bought from this artist! Same thoughts as before; for a quick browse, this was a refreshing little collection. Her style is just nice and soothing, with some fun surrealism/dreamscape vibes thrown in.

I'm not sure I'll buy any more of these, since the book didn't add quite as much insight into the works as I was hoping. Plus some of the concepts don't really resonate with me/seem that well researched...

I think one of my favorite things included was this abstract work the artist did—she wrote that she started with random watercolor mark-making, and then turned that into a piece. Those were very cool explorations! (2.5/5)

Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Last Olympian

Done!! With the series! (Unless... It looks like there might be some followups to the main story?) I understand why the darker tone got dialed up, and other than the excursion with Nico, why the story kind of broke from the wacky-roadtrip vibe of the others. It made sense, while still keeping some of the lighthearted narration from the others, which was nice. I think what I appreciate the most about the series is the fun it has with its world. (Side note—I watched the movie based on the first book recently, and I can only assume it didn't do well! Bc omg, it completely missed the mood of the books. Instead of lingering on the whimsy, they focused on... making Grover a very cringey stereotype? Nah.) (ALSO??? THEY CUT OUT MY DAUGHTER CLARISSE????? THE AUDACITY???????)

I think my biggest gripe with the book was the very weird way the Annabeth-Percy-Rachel dynamic was handled. Like, it just got kind of tiring after a bit, especially with the way Annabeth acted so uncharacteristically catty at times. Plus, like, Percy's off falling in love with Calypso after like 5 minutes, the girl is right that he's kind of flighty. Rachel's ending also felt, just... eh.

Other than that, I was very into the last book!! There were some really moving character moments, like, Nico struggling with his place in the story, everything we learned about Luke... AND THE BIGGEST MASTERSTROKE OF ALL!!! I have been waiting to scream about the sapphic Patrochilles take??? At the end??? Clarisse has two hands and she can hold both Chris's and Silena's. She was moved to go into battle!!!! For her!!!!! She defeated one of the most terrifying foes in NO ARMOR just with a SICK ASS SPEAR and I LOVE HER. Anyway no notes, except they better do Clarisse justice in the new adaptation or I will riot. (4/5)

Secrets of the Oak Woodlands

Ooo I'm out of practice doing these reviews... Mostly from a funny cocktail of outside factors slowing me down, but also because nonfiction can be such a slog for me to get through. Tragic, because I do want to learn more ecology, I'm just... bad at it. Anyway! Bought this book on a fun West Coast road trip, I think I picked this up in the Sequoia National Park gift shop? The writing itself is great, especially how it tackles some pretty complex concepts in a way that's approachable. The book doesn't feel like Baby's First Nature Guide, but it also doesn't completely lose me when it explores why coyote populations actually rise when they're hunted or why Oak Mistletoe is a keystone species.

Even though the watercolor illustrations in the book were lovely, I sort of wish the visuals could have focused more on the tougher scientific concepts being explained. Like, instead of the illustrated "anecdote" of a quail sitting sentry, it could have been good to have a cross-section diagram of an oak gall or something. I guess it's always hard to balance interest and clarity in scientific writing, though. Overall, I think this was a pretty good eco-starter book! I'm just a square peg trying to force myself into a round hole, reading these nonfiction books. (So... 3/5?)

The Dragon's Bride

Hoo boy... Hoo boy... Listened to this audiobook at the recommendation of my friend who's very into erotica/romances. Which was an adventure, for me! To start with the good points, I really like the founding premise of this whole world/story. Deals with demons walk that perfect line for me of intricate and taboo power dynamics—and at the same time, the author satisfied my inner hopeless romantic by making all the demons (that we've met so far, at least) morally viable! So yeah, the world building and characterization is really nice, tbh.

I think my two sticking points are the smut itself, and that I didn't find these particular protags very compelling... It's interesting comparing this to, say, an above-average smut fic. On the one hand this has better prose, but on the other hand the smut veered into being a little too flowery now and then... (not to say all the sex scenes were like that. Uh. There were some choice ones.) I also personally found the frequency of the sex scenes a little ridiculous, but for most people that's probably a positive! 😂 And then, when it comes to the main characters themselves, I think they were well-rounded and the dynamic itself made sense. The personalities just aren't the kind I normally latch onto, though—they're not my blorbos, you know? So, where I'd go into a smut fic already attached (and therefore more into the smut itself), these... I could take it or leave it, haha.

That said, this installment did pique my interest for others in the series. I'm curious about the one with the succubus........ And the one with Eve..................... Those tidbits seem more up my alley. :] Also, the voice acting was pretty fun, tbh. They got separate VAs for Briar and Sol, the two POV characters, and they knocked it out of the park (even/especially in the smut scenes)! (well, except for a very funny instance where the guy VA had to voice Briar's lines in a smut scene in a Sol POV chapter. Damn, did he try.) Might pick up one of the other installments... if they come out on audiobook! (3.5/5)

Legends & Lattes

Another recommendation!! From a different friend! Apparently this book is popular on booktok but since booktok sounds like a cesspool (not really—pls don't come for me) I'm glad I didn't know that going in. As a purveyor and avid consumer of slice-of-life fluff.......... I loved this!!! First of all, the main character is My Kind of Girl, and exactly the kind of character I want to see getting a happy ending. Then, the rest of cast provided so many different kinds of delight—the warm Found Family feeling of a grumpy kind father figure and an adorable little Creature baking actual cinnamon rolls and a prim but secretly dorky girlfriend and and and—so many greats! Even the antagonists were enjoyable, in their way.

Hmmm... for the negative part of my postive-negative-positive sandwich, I think I'd just echo what I've seen in a few other reviews—I could have done with a teensy bit more of the romance. Or I guess, more of the cuteness of it? All we really got was a little bit of lead-up and then a big get-together, but I feel like the romance scenes I like most (shy flirting, a tiny bit of pining) got sort of skipped over. It's not a huge negative! Especially for this story, which seemed like it hit exactly the balance the author intended. Yeah, I might have just had the epilogue cover the main ship being cute and in love, instead of the little righteous vengeance scene that we got.

So this was a perfect little comfort listen (audiobook again! with really nice acting done by the author himself!). I saw other people calling the first chapters slow, but tbh I loved the steady, hopeful mood that came from all that straightforward hard work happening and then paying off. A great story, if you go in with the right expectations! (4.5/5) (P.S.: also this article touches on some other L&L points that I think explain why it resonates so well in post-pandemic life) (P.P.S. now I'm trying to parse out why I liked this book so much more than House in the Cerulean Sea... I think part of it is that the cast felt more respected? Like, it was more than just The Most Special-est Pretty Boy and his Plucky Boyfriend Fix Fantasy Racism)

[titansarmy]

Yeah! There’s just a lot to think about when it comes to Luke and the demigods who sided with him + their reasoning. I liked will in the last Olympian he was a super minor character but at the time I’d been hoping he’d end ho coming back I think he’s definitely wasted potential and I don’t hate him but I definitely do hate what willnico does to their respective story arcs I wish we had gotten a sort of rivals to friends arc for will and Nico sort of like Leo and Frank I think Nico deserves more canon friends and it would mean a lot to see another guy his age who was also in the background of the same first war choosing instead to accept and befriend Nico! Like it would’ve been so nice he’s been going to chb for awhile so of course he’s going to see how Nico’s treated and he’s got that history of being a war hero to a lot of the campers that would sweeten the deal imo. Forever mourning the potential willnico friendship (sorry I sent that last ask right before bed so I was a little tired and incoherent) in my current reread of tlo chb just came to Mount Olympus and Hestia revealed Percy had underwent Achilles’ curse. Silena, Nico, and Luke specifically have me really emo in this they’re all rebelling in their own way ;-; (btw hope your day/night was nice) - 💀

yeah they’re a group of people who were very failed and who were angry for valid reasons and i cannot fully blame them for that.

same !!! will in tlo is just one extra character that i wouldn’t have minded if they made him a bit more present. clarisse style maybe, as in she’s not there all the time but we know a good amount about her.

!!!!!!!!! it’s THAT for nicowill. they just suddenly start dating but we’re not given a reason why they like each other (this ties to the other ask oops so I’ll say something about that later). and YES YES YES there’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more than to see nico having friends. #1 priority since forever, it’s the only thing that i’ve ever truly wanted. and will being the one to also accept him (friendship first) would be so good because of exactly what you said, he’s known nico through his whole Reject days and he is from camp half blood so it would be a good first step for nico to realise that he had a chance in chb all along.

hope ur day/night was/is also lovely !!!

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda––

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it’d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

“It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.  

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

[the-knight-of-the-stars]

Percy Jackson: The Last Olympian first reading thoughts:

-I didnt sleep reading this but it was totally worth it!!

-Danm this was soo good!

-From the start things get heavy, Backendorf's death hurt me way more than I expected.

-I loved the entire part in Poseidon's castle, very interesting (and Tyson is here!)

-Wow Nico has changed so much since the begining (also his powers are very cool)

-To see the story of Luke and his mother uncover was hard to read, so tragic, I was at the verge of tears in many parts.

-It all came full circle, now the things Luke said in the first books make so much sense, you can see what drove him to those extreme ideas.

-And I love how Percy starts to change his inicial perception of things too. That is I think a very admirable part of him. Even if he is a very stubborn boy, he is willing to try and change his mind.

-But even more so Annabeth, she is so empathic despite her critical thinking, and I love that of her. She is truly so wise, even so young she realizes that she needs both the power of the heart AND mind. To almost the last second she holds on to her heart and that doesn't meant she stops being smart.

-Amazing to see the Underworld again, and Hades, and Persephone!

-Achilles's ghost, nice.

-Percy thinking of Annabeth in the river to survive STOP I LOVE THEM (Also dont think I didn't notice him constantly getting distracted with how pretty Annabeth looked)

-Very funny that whole interaction with Demeter, Persephone and Hades, and it was interesting to see how Nico tries to fit in there.

- I really thought we wouldnt get the chance to see Hestia and we did! And I loved how she was represented, as the hope that comes from the concep of home and how that parallels the gods and Olympus being the source of their power.

-I would have liked to see more of the gods fighting Typhon but I I looved the full focus on the battle defending Olympus.

-No, really, that entire battle was soo fricking cool. It took so much of the book and I adored every second. I could feel them getting cornered by Kronos, the progressive tiredness every time a new attack happens.

-Wow so much happens!

-Ok, I think my favorite parts were:

-THALIA!! Gods I missed her, It was so exciting to have her back and fighting.

-The automatons??? How cool is that??

-Percy provoking the Minotaur in such a cocky way, damn my boy has grown.

-Prometheus. Loved everything, such a fun antagonic character.

-Grover and his cool powers with nature turning a titan into a tree, AMAZING

-Percy chasing a gigant flying pig around New York.

-The centaurs coming to the rescue

-Dionysus using a party to manifest, so interesting and cool (nice of him to ask about his son)

-Percy referring to both his mom and Paul as "his parents"

-The battle with the dragon, everything felt so epic. Silena's sacrifice was so tragic, and Clarisse using her anger to kill the dragon, epic.

-"I will kill you ALL! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?" Damn Clarisse...

-Hades, Demeter and Persephone coming to the fight!!!

-I was kinda hoping Luke could survive, but I guess his death was necessary. It was equally hearbreaking and beautiful. His sacrifice just made everything circle back in a true greek tragedy tale style.

-Again, with the impecable development of Percy. "You are not the hero" *cheff kiss.

-And again, Annabeth understanding eveything before eveyone else.

-To see all the gods reunited again was amazing

-YES GROVER MY BRAVE BOY YOU DESERVE THE WORLD

-And Tyson! I'm so happy for him, (I just hope he never has to actually fight)

-And Annabeth!! My dear girl will be architect of Olympus, I was about to cry, I'm so happy for her.

-Percy, I was not expecting him to ask that to the gods and I love him even more now. I knew some day his ability to defy the gods with a straight face would be used for a greater good. And damn he deliver. Again, everything full circle, what a good ending.

-Rachel is the Oracle now, cool. And I loved to see Apollo there, amazing.

-Another prophecy????

-PERCABETH PERCABETH PERCABETH!!! OMG FINALLY

-I swear they are the most adorable thing ever, the underwater kiss... :')

-Well that was fricking beautiful

-I loved this book and this series with my soul, an aboslute beauty of a story, everything was like a dream come true and I'm so happy I got to read it while I wasnt busy.

-What a journey, loved every second, I felt like a little kid again. 100/10

-You bet I'm reading EVERYTHING else from this franchise.

[phantaloon-books]

Things about Tower of Nero that I want to highlight to remember them forever:

Lu being an absolute badass woman, I just love her too much

Piper McClean being canon wlw, she was actually kissing another girl, we really fell in love in october

Chaos being canonically female (just chaos being mentioned as a deity rather than what's below tartarus)

nobody DIED, like no one on the good side at least?? yes plenty of beings have died throughout TOA, but nobody died in TON?? so many died in TLO and BOO, I expected to mourn someone and I didn't have too??! it made me so happy

solangelo. that's it. solangelo makes me happy.

will being incredibly supportive of nico, and instead of stopping him, going with him on dangerous adventures because he doesn't want to leave him alone. also them treating Nico's PTSD for what it is

WILL SOLACE CANONICALLY GLOWS IN THE DARK. HE'S A GLOWSTICK BABY.

also will just appearing at the gates of the throne room, glowing in rage because someone touched his boyfriend (and tried to kill his dad), and him just marching through everyone (everyone else letting him), just to pick up his hurt precious boyfriend and take care of him.

meg McCaffrey got her happy ending. she's baby, she deserves her family and her happy ending. also Lu being the mother and the 12 children being siblings?? that's one hell of a way to tell nero to fuck off and right his mistakes. we love meg.

dionysus being the best olympian after apollo. the duo content we needed, and now will never get

nico mentioning bob and how he wants to go look for him, because he can still be in tartarus

rachel still being a Total badass and hitting people in the eye with her blue hairbrush thus being iconic

meg acting as lester's anchor and only reason why he didn't let go of the ledge, not falling into chaos, is top tier 'reasons why I cried reading', because if you think about it, Meg is the first ever friend apollo ever had, and them being best friends is everything to me

also apollo choosing to go looking as lester rather than apollo because lester feels like home is on top tier 'reasons why I cried reading' too

again, the only thing apollo did in the end (once he was god again) that could be described as 'godly' was be in several places at once, fly his chariot, and get meg her unicorn

but apollo shooting fucking fire out of his hands is crazy asf, it was so cool. he really got amazing godly powers this book.

rick being bold enough to showcase abusive parenting knowing that a huge porcentage of his readers are minors, helping many realize that they could be in abusive households, and giving them a tool to reach out for help

apollo defeating nero was so satisfactory, because you realize in the end, that nero wasn't really a monster, he was monstrous, but still very much human (if only with some godly power), and pretty useless once he couldn't hide behind props and weapons, his being wasn't powerful, he was just under layers of protection

the jackson/blofis scene was so warm and loving, they really are willing to put their family in danger, baby estelle in danger, to help 'percy's friends' even tho she knew percy didn't like apollo, but she still takes in everyone who needs help, and paul being a loving and accepting husband

sally working on her SECOND novel, she really is having her best life

none of the big heroes from other series having protagonism, besides nico and will, instead giving the other kids from camp halfblood their chance to show they're just as worthy as the "heroes of olympus"

(still I would have loved to see a scene with everyone else, like the heroes of olympus guys, fighting together one last time, just for nostalgia's sake - I legit hoped to see percy and annabeth arriving with chiron in triumvirate tower, but yeah)

the arrow of dodona may have been a dumb, cringey, and slightly ridiculous thing at first, and I personally rolled my eyes everytime it said anything, but it knew what would happen from the start, and without its sacrifice, apollo would have achieved nothing. we stan one arrow

nico wearing a white cowboy hat. idky but it makes my heart swell with joy. he a gay cowboy

y'all know I love Apollo's arch, and I just gotta point this out. his trials, his time as lester, started with him falling to earth, and ended with him getting up after purposely throwing himself off the earth, towards tartarus, almost falling to chaos. that's really clever writing.

the olympians watching over him, and some actually being concerned for him rather than his progress.

poseidon not really giving a fuck about the world or council meetings anymore because percy's not there anymore

athena being the only one apart from artemis who trusted apollo could do it makes me warm fsr

lester deciding that the best way to retell his adventures is by singing is hilarious to me, he really thinks it'll solve everything

Grover not telling percy and annabeth jason died seems so funny to me, he really said "nah it doesn't matter much, field trip, yes"

"hey man" my heart broke in twenty million pieces. like I don't know where I expected to see jason. but that wasn't it. and it hurt me as much as it hurt apollo man.

(also I kinda hoped we would see nico summon his spirit or smth, but I'm actually happy nico realized that jason went by his own choice, and he was in peace, so he decided not to summon him, because it was alright. that hurt too)

kinda love how lester passes out after literally every battle. it reminds you that even tho he's apollo, his body isn't. I'm sure we all would pass out too if we did a quarter of what lester did in the span of 4 days. his body isn't made to endure that, it doesn't even have a halfblood endurance, it's a weak mortal body

the trogs were fucking hilarious. their screeches and grrs, idk there's something ridiculous and so childish about them, it's so fun

really happy that apollo never had a /real/ love interest (reyna doesn't count), cause that wasn't what his story was about. instead he got to make so many friends, and have quality time with them and his children, it's amazing

apollo being thankful people were telling him he'd grown, and was more human, because he realized that was the best thing he could have learned from his time as a mortal

also him saying fuck you man to zeus and his speech, like "no asshole dad, I did learn, I'm not going to see this as punishment, it was a great time in which bad things happened but I enjoyed it." yes, we love apollo not letting zeus win

getting to see what everyone will do now. nico and will figuring out rachel's prophecy, probs saving bob. rachel living her best life away from her parents. leo doing what leo does, always helping those who have no one else. the hunters' open storyline about this fox, possibly hinting at content? piper settling down in a quiet life is what she deserves tbh, she's earned quiet life with a cute gf, wish her the best. Frank and hazel being the best praetors, and I bet they will continue to be so. And annabeth and percy, who chose their happiness over all, at last

kinda wish we got to see someone still really miss jason after apollo becomes god again tho lmao like apollo missed jason more than the others, nico and piper being the exception. I mean, leo is fine and dandy, hazel and frank are okay, percy and annabeth are done mourning... I just we got to see any of them really mourning, rather than reading they mourned. it would have made it feel more emotional

the last conversation and the last words in general. "the sun always comes back" and "we're friends now. call on me. I'll be there for you" that shit got me sobbing my heart out. rick really managed to do right by the books and end it like he should have, unlike BOO. he took what made TLO good and used a similar formula. it's very different from "and for once I didn't look back", but it still fills you with warmth and the feeling that even though it's over, it's okay.

I'm just really emotional, this is all I can think about, but you bet I'm gonna add more when I remember

[helpistolethesecharacters]

A Match Made by the Gods

Part 2

Thor x Male Son of Zeus Reader

Word Count: 1576

Hi Anon! I hope this is what you were after for part 2!

-----------

Thor leaned back in his seat, admiring Y/n as he sipped his drink. They had been meeting a couple of times a week for a drink or two ever since their encounter in the forest over a month ago now.

After the initial misunderstanding between them, Thor had felt a little unsure how to go about acting on the not-at-all platonic feelings that were developing inside him. Normally he would just go for it, after all, you wouldn't know if the other person was interested if you didn't ask, but he was wary. Things hadn't ended well with Jane, and he was hesitant to have things sour between himself and Y/n.

"Tell me more of this 'Camp Half-Blood' that you work at."

The amused expression on Y/n's face was worth more than Thor could say. He did so enjoy seeing the other man's face light up in any way.

"Well," Y/n began with a private smile, "We're all descendants of Greek Gods. We've got the big three; Zeus, Poseidon and Hades, and then the lesser known Gods and Goddesses of the Pantheon. Each one has a cabin for their children when they come through the camp. Some of them are bigger, like the one for Aphrodite's children, and they're usually located near the various things that are the most relevant to that God, like Poseidon's cabin is located right on the water."

Thor watched Y/n gesture with his hands as he got more caught up in explaining. There was so much life in this man. Thor enjoyed being someone who was allowed to see it.

"The kids are great, but things can get pretty crazy when you add in super abilities and prejudices and whatnot."

"Prejudices? What do you mean?"

Y/n took another sip of his drink and mulled the question over. He was sure that Thor wasn't asking about the word itself, more the context. He refused to buy into the popular theory that the God was totally naive.

"Well, its a pretty mixed bag at the camp. There are the kids that stick to their parents particular grudges and beefs with the other Gods and Goddesses in the hopes that if they hold the same beliefs, then maybe their parent will pay them attention or find them worthy, or something. And then there are the ones that can see their parent for what they are. Those are the ones that either make up their own minds or hold the complete opposite opinion simply for the chance to pull the finger, metaphorically, at their absent parent."

Thor bowed his head in thought.

"Those that can see their parent for what they are. What are they?"

His normally boisterous voice was lowered to account for the serious conversation he had stumbled onto.

Y/n leaned in unconsciously as he answered.

"Well, essentially they're the deadbeat parent that left the other parent with a baby and no real way to protect it from the dangers that come for them just for being what they are."

They were silent for a little while, both lost in thought.

"I think that, for the God or Goddess in question, there's an element of shame in there. More than what you would expect for having abandoned their child."

Y/n licked his dry lips and kept his eyes on his glass, now empty on the table in front of him.

"For them, we, the children they leave behind," he clarified with a quick glance at Thor, "are a symbol. We are absolute proof that they are not the perfect beings they pretend they are. We are the undeniable fact that they, the seemingly divine Gods, fell in love and laid with humans. For all their powers, they are not so different from us. The only difference is that we don't deny our faults."

Thor sat in silence, just watching the man on the other side of the booth. For all that both Asgardians and Olympians were regarded as Gods by the humans, they were apparently quite different. He, for one, was sure there was no force on Midgard that could force him to leave Y/n behind. He would even defy his own father if it came down to it. He might not have the other man in the way that he wanted yet, but he was sure that at some point in the future it would happen. Their meeting had been nothing less than an act of fate.

-----------

Something odd was happening to Thor. A few times in the last week his powers had acted up without his prompting. Specifically, the last two times he had walked Y/n back to his car, he had gathered his courage and gone to lean in to try to kiss him goodnight, but instead of either being rebuffed or accepted, thunder would rumble out of nowhere or lightning would strike down far too close for comfort.

It wouldn't affect Thor much, it was his element, but if he was this out of control at the thought of kissing the other man, he was worried that he could accidentally hurt him, or worse.

So tonight when they were standing by Y/n's car and lingering by each other with no other reason to prolong goodbye, Thor was understandably nervous. He wanted so badly to kiss Y/n, but he really didn't want to be the cause of pain for the other man.

He didn't even get close this time, as just as he made to step closer, thunder rolled across the sky warningly. Thor looked into Y/n's eyes, an exasperated look on his face.

"I am very sorry about that, I honestly don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't been this out of control since I was much younger!"

He took in the guilty look on Y/n's face and felt his own face shift to match the confusion he was feeling.

Y/n cringed.

"I don't think it's your fault."

Thor shifted slightly.

"Father." He said softly, suddenly connecting the dots from their first meeting. The look on Y/n's face was confirmation enough for him.

"Your father is Zeus, the lightning God."

Thor spoke slowly as he parsed out his thoughts. Y/n nodded with a defeated look on his own face.

"Yeah, sorry about this. I don't know what his problem is, he hasn't interfered in my life in years. To be honest with you I thought he had forgotten he had me as a son."

Thor thought to relations between the realms of the 'Gods'.

"I might have an idea about that."

--------------

'Sometimes it pays to know so many sorcerers.' Thor thought absently to himself as he stood on the top of the Empire State building. He wasn't about to walking into their realm, but he also knew that if they didn't do this now, he might never get up the nerve to do it.

It had taken pathetically little time to find out where the entrance was. Thor knew he could have asked Y/n, but he wanted to sort this out without him, and he just knew that Y/n would want to be involved if he told him why he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, he knew how the 'Gods' tended to think of humans, Y/n might only be half human but that still made him lesser than them in the eyes of those with powers and life-spans like theirs, and Thor wasn't about to put Y/n in that position if he didn't have to.

An earsplitting strike of lightning right beside him brought Thor out of his thoughts. He looked out over the skyline instead of facing the man he now knew was Y/n's father.

"Why have you come here Asgardian? You are not welcome in our territory."

"You know why I am here."

He left it at that. Zeus knew why he was there, and Thor wasn't prepared to pretend otherwise.

The other man turned to stare at Thor. He turned to meet Zeus's eyes. He wasn't about to be cowed by this man. They shared an element after all.

"You are trying to corrupt my son."

Thor rolled his eyes and turned back to the skyline. It was less infuriating.

"I have no such wishes. Your son is a good man. I wonder what stake you could have in the matter. The worried father? I think perhaps you lost that right when you gave him to his mother and turned away. Perhaps you are worried for your power base? I have no plans to sway Y/n from his position, nor any future plans you may have for him."

Zeus was staring stonily at Thor.

"Whether I was there during his childhood in person or not is not the issue here. I was always there in spirit."

He sighed, and seemed to lose his fight.

"I suppose, in the end, you are right. I have no control over who my son dates. But let me tell you. If you hurt my son, not even your All-Father will be able to save you from my wrath. There will be nowhere in any realm that you could hide where I would not find you."

With a last strike of lightning, Zeus was gone, leaving Thor standing on the top of the Empire State building alone.

The one thing that broke through the silence left behind by Zeus was the thought that if he hurt Y/n, he would deserve everything that the other God would heap on him.

[thebigqueer]

Ok, here we go. Dark!Bianca idea. Shortly after the events in the desert, a severely injured Bianca is found by agents of the Titans who were shadowing the quest party off-page. She is brought back to Titan HQ and is convinced to join their crusade against the gods while her friends and family think she's dead. Jump ahead to BotL, instead of Kelli the Empousa, it is a mysterious masked assassin who attacks Percy and Rachel at Goode. The events mostly play out unchanged until Geryon's (1/8)

ranch, where instead of Bianca, it is the ghost of Maria di Angelo who is revealed to be sending Iris messages to Percy about Nico, while also strongly hinting that Bianca's still alive. Jump ahead to Mt St. Helens, Percy fights the assassin again, and during his stint on Ogygia, Percy begins to put two and two together after the assassin demonstrated skills similar to the Hunters. At Antaeus' Arena, the assassin is finally unmasked to reveal a still-alive but scarred Bianca, replacing (2/8)

Ethan Nakamura as the demigod enforcer. Percy is convinced that Bianca is being mind-controlled and goes to Mt Tam to rescue her as well as stop Kronos. However, when he confronts her, Bianca reveals that she's operating of her own free will, feeling vengeful against the gods for robbing her of her life and having pledged her loyalty to her new Titan master. Kronos intends to make Bianca the prophesy kid, promising her the free will she craves so badly as well as promising not to hurt (3/8)

Nico. Going into the Last Olympian, Percy and Nico are both determined to convince Bianca that she's making a mistake, and this time Nico's duplicity is not to simply learn about his mother but to try and summon her spirit to get through to Bianca. At the same time, Kronos gradually starts treating Bianca as less of an ally and more of a tool, and the Titans' actions cause her to have doubts even though she dosen't know what else to do. It all comes to a head in the final battle.(4/8)

Nico returns from the Underworld by himself early, giving Hades an ultimatum to come and fight or hide. Just before the final attack, Kronos sends Bianca to infiltrate Olympus to disable the magic defenses, but Nico arrives to intercept her and make one last bid to save her. They fight, with both begging the other to stand down even as they slug it out. Finally, just as Percy arrives to chase Kronos, the battered siblings' duel ends when Nico gives another ultimatum. He throws down his (5/8)

sword and gives Bianca, now reduced to fear and frustration-induced tears, the choice between perusing her grudge and allowing herself to continue being Kronos’s slave or doing the right thing. Finally able to make a legitimate choice of her own, Bianca chooses to turn her back on the Titans. She still ends up wounded, but unlike Ethan in canon, Nico manages to save his sister while Percy and Kronos have their final battle. After everything ends, Percy petitions for Bianca’s pardon along (6/8)

with the rest of his list, though Bianca turns it down, realizing the harm she almost caused to the person she loved more than anybody else. She is given a reduced sentence in service to her father, and though she does not properly forgive any of the gods that hurt her, she does recognize that the spite and anger she felt would only lead to more death. Nico gets to visit her occasionally, and she starts a road to redemption that Luke never got the chance to take. In HoO, Bianca is (7/8)

more of a background character, but it is she that finds Hazel in Asphodel and alerts Nico to her. Overall, dark!Bianca is an anti-villain who’s affiliation with Kronos is clearly drawn from her pain and grief over the gods’ interference in her life, but her saving grace is her brother. Nico manages to pull her out of the darkness and save her from becoming the same monster Luke became. What do you think? (bear in mind, this is my rough draft) (8/8)

Okay, WOW. Anon, I am actually going to start a petition to make you the new Percy Jackson author because that was such an interesting plot to read.

First of all, I love that you replaced Bianca with Ethan. As interesting as he was in the series, and as much as I loved his character, after reading through your rough draft, I feel like Bianca would have been a much better character to use throughout PJO. Her arc could have been expanded upon and completed thoroughly, and it could have made a lot of sense. Ethan felt more like a representation of "demigods turned to the other side," which I get is the point, but I loved the way you used Bianca because with your plot, her character could have been used so well to properly show how easily the Titan army manipulated kids.

Furthermore, I feel like your plot with Bianca could have been a much better way to use her character throughout the series. From my interpretation, in canon she seemed more like a stand-in tool just to enhance Nico's own character arc and his motives, but your plot for her would have actually given her some kind of foundation and an actual arc for her to go through. You've given her such an interesting character and I think it really provides more justice to what she could have been.

I also love the way that not only did you give her a better arc, but you also enhanced Nico's own arc and the plot, too. Her death in the books seemed more symbolic to him and a turning point in his character, but with her character in your AU, it's both important to Nico and Bianca. You've given her an actual character, and you've set up such an interesting conflict between Nico and Bianca.

Additionally, I love the divide you've created between them. I think that - based on what we know about her in the books - as much as she loves her brother, Bianca also feels very limited with him because of how she's been forced to grow up and be his savior. She understands that he's only a child, though, which I think could also play into her own hatred for the gods - they've not only destroyed her family, but now they're forcing her to take the role of an adult when she's a mere child, too? She was never angry at Nico - she was only ever mad with the gods.

Maybe that's something that Nico also feels bad about, and maybe he tells her about it when they're standing each other down. Maybe she lets him know that she never hated him or felt that he was bringing her down.

Also, I want to add that I adore the way you put them on opposite sides. It sets up such an interesting dynamic to their relationship because here you have two people who love each other so much, but they're on two different sides of a large war. They're both too stubborn to go onto each other's sides, and Nico knows Bianca's only going to get herself into more danger. I just love the potential that has for both of their characters.

I know Percy had a large fear about Nico being another kid to join Kronos' army, so I bet Bianca being on his team would have left Percy incredibly terrified for Nico, too, because he knew how much Nico loved Bianca. Would he have been nervous for Nico's ability to change his mind? Nico knows he'd never join Kronos, but would Percy have known?

And, knowing that Bianca's now on the Kronos side, how would Percy react? Because he felt pretty guilty about her death in TTC, right? Would he feel guilty that she's on the other side now, too? Would he try to reason with her, only to push her further away? I'd love to see how Percy would deal with knowing that Bianca - an important child of the Big Three - would react to her being there. He was already nervous about Nico joining sides, but having Bianca there would have really scared him.

And the part about Bianca finding Hazel instead of Nico? That was mind-blowing. I love everything about that situation because now that introduces Hazel into the narrative of Nico and Bianca's story. My question for you would be how does Hazel's character change now? How does she fit in with Nico and Bianca? Because in Heroes of Olympus she's clearly very insecure about her relationship with Nico and how he views her, but if she actually knew Bianca, how would she feel? Would she feel more left out (knowing that Bianca and Nico have known each other much longer and have a stronger connection with each other)? Would she be distrustful? And how would the three of them adapt to this additional family member? I have high hopes that by the end they would all love each other very much, but I'm just really curious into how Hazel's addition would influence the dynamic of all three.

And, essentially, it all ends into a somewhat win-win situation. Bianca's still living; Nico's got two new sisters; Hazel now has a new family.

I think this is such an interesting concept, and I'd love to read it. If you ever post it anywhere, please do share the link! This was such an intriguing plot to go through and, again, I think this could have been a much better use of Bianca's character.

Thank you so much for sharing it with me.

[thatisaname]

You know those annoying 'actually everything is connected' theories ? Well, I've got one about The Mechanisms' albums

(Please hear me out I swear it's good)

The Bifrost Incident ends with a world-ending catastrophe. The Gods arrive into the world, dragged in by Odin's train, and they destroy it.

What's the first sign of their arrival ? Communications breaking down.

Civilization-ending catastrophes and communications mysteriously breaking down... Doesn't that remind you of something ?

Yep, that's it: the catastrophe mentioned in Holder of the Grail.

This unknown catastrophe that cuts Fort Galfridian from the rest of the world and destroys an entire civilization could very well be the one that starts in Terminus.

Meaning that the events in High Noon over Camelot could be the direct consequences of the events of The Bifrost Incident.

But it doesn't stop there.

Arthur survives. He is, as Mordred puts it, "the once and future king". To our knowledge, he was never officially called King of Camelot but sure enough, he kind of was the King of this place. But... what about after ? If we see Arthur again in the Mechs' canon, it means there's a strong chance he will wear the title of King.

And who is the only character in the Mechs' canon who ever wore the title of King ?

Now hear me out.

After the events of Ulysses dies at dawn, all hope seems to be gone. Ulysses dies in peace, but all hopes of revolution seem to have faded away. The Olympians' grasp on the City seems impossible to challenge in the slightest. But one day, a strange ship crashes in the middle of the darkest street of the City.

Out of the wreckage climbs a man, with a half-empty pistol. He takes a look at the strange new world around him, and nods gravely. He has a destiny to fulfill.

Arthur will be King. That's the lasts thing Mordred told him, and he won't let this last thread to his past disappear. So, he gets to work. In one month, the whole city has heard of him. In one year, even the Olympians fear him.

When people ask him if he's really going to fight the Olympians, the man who calls himself Cole laughs, and answers calmly that it's not the first time he takes over a planet.

The City learns to fear his name and his gun. To many, he's just another crime boss. Some rumors start to spread, saying that he is an Olympian, just like the others. And this gives Arthur an idea.

Arthur starts to take a stance against immortality and the Acheron. He uses his men to spread anti-Acheron propaganda, calls out the Olympians' corruption and even manages to expose the Sphinx scandale using Oedipus' old research. The oppressed people of the City follow him and many of the Olympians' men turn against their old masters. A year later, he launches the first world-wide rebellion the City has ever known.

General Cole utterly beats the Olympians, and executes them all - which takes a little longer than expected, but still, finally works. He seizes all of their research and locks them away. He is elected King of the city, now renamed New Constantinople.

(PS: Hades doesn't stop the rebellion and just escapes. Mainly because they've run the Acheron for so long they got a bit bored of it. Also, because Brian seems to really like Cole for whatever reason.)

At first Arthur's reign is calm and prosperous. King Cole grows old and stays merry. But eventually people start realizing that Cole's longevity might not be natural. His subjects, especially the older warriors who fought at his side during the Revolution, start to get a bit suspicious: what if Cole had used the Olympians' technology to extend his own life ? What if he had become an Olympian in the end ?

Arthur didn't become immortal, but he did use the Olympians' research to extend his life far beyond his normal lifespan. Now that he is King, he refuses to let death get in the way of his destiny.

You know the rest: King Cole turns into a bloodthirsty monster, and finally, General White's rebellion puts an end to his reign and his life.

Now you're going to say: "But Arthur and Cole are so different. How could Arthur become Cole ?"

So first of, Arthur turned evil only after almost a millenia of technology-expanded life which definitely caused damage to his mind. As Jonny says in Once: "the technology that had extended his life throughout the millennia had warped his mind as it had withered his body".

(Which, by the way, is also what seemed to happen to those who were "brought back" from the Acheron in Ulysses, cf Orpheus' backstory)

But Cole isn't that different from Arthur:

- Cole and Arthur both fight with a gun, and both seem very skilled at it.

- Cole is paranoid. Which would make a lot considering Arthur's backstory: just when he was about to save his world, Arthur saw his two lovers being shot in the back by his own son, who then proceeded to completely destroy the world, sparing no one but him. Nobody in the universe would be more afraid of betrayal than Arthur.

- Cole is driven by a thirst for conquest. Arthur was too: in the very beginning of HNOC, he takes over Camelot and establishes a personal rule on the city. With good intentions, sure, but still.

- They have the same outlook on fear.

Remember when Arthur said that ?

Well...

Yeah...

(Also the three little pigs could act as a sort of dark reflection of what Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot once were: three unbeatable warriors, matched by no one... except this time they're not united by love for the other two, but by fanatical devotion to a leader)

So, in this theory, the "ending" of the Mechs' universe would be pretty optimistic. No matter what insane authoritarian rulers will try to do to stay in power, justice, truth and love will win in the end - even if it requires a lot of suffering and death to get there. Or, as Arthur said:

[ram-reads]

Since I started this series every book has been better than the last. The Blood of Olympus has ended that trend. I felt like this was the most boring book in the series. I hate it when a series ends on a low note. The Blood of Olympus does something a little different with its plot. Instead of just following the Argo II as it journeys to Athens we also follow Nico and Reyna as they bring the Athena Parthenos back to Camp Half-Blood. On their way to Athens to stop the giants from waking Gaea, the crew on the Argo II also look for a way to make sure everyone on their team lives after receiving grim information about the outcome of their quest from the goddess Nike. Meanwhile Nico is struggling with having to constantly shadow travel with little rest due to not only the time constraint but also the fact that they are being chased by a giant named Orion. I wouldn’t say that I found the plot completely boring since I was interested in Reyna, Nico, and Jason’s chapters, but it failed to hold my attention most of the time. When I put it down I struggled to pick it back up again because I just wasn’t that invested. Part of why I felt that way is because the story was way too predictable. Due to the nature of prophecies and all the dream visions the characters have, I'm used to easily being able to predict what will happen in Riordan’s books. This time around though Riordan left very little up to interpretation. I knew every step of the way what was going to happen which made every “major moment” fall flat because I knew that everything would be alright. Telling me that everything will work out early on in the story really brings the direness out of the plot for the reader. I was also unimpressed with this final book because it should’ve been the most high stakes one and it wasn’t. The Last Olympian was more high stakes than this one! How can that be possible when the enemies in this series are supposed to be tougher!?! With everything they were up against the ending was wrapped up far too nicely. I thought at the beginning of this series that Riordan’s writing had become more approachable for adults, but now I feel the opposite. Riordan holds the hand of his reader too much, and I don’t think that’ll ever change so I don’t see myself reading his books again in the future.

With this being the final book I expected to get the perspectives from all the demigods of the prophecy, but that didn’t happen. Out of the seven we only get Jason, Piper, and Leo’s perspectives. While I understand why that’s the case because the other four have had their arcs wrapped up, it still felt weird that they got no chapters in the final book. I’m not going to complain too much though because in exchange for them we got Reyna and Nico’s perspectives, and their chapters were the most engaging out of all of them. My feelings for all of the characters didn’t change in this book. I still find Leo annoying and I don’t understand how out of all seven of them he was the one that Riordan seemed to focus on the most. I’m still indifferent toward Piper. I found all of her chapters pretty boring. Jason was my favorite out of the trio but I feel like Riordan did him dirty. His chapters were usually short whereas it felt like Leo’s were always super long. On the other hand I really came to like Reyna. She had a surprising backstory and her powers were unique. Even though I don’t plan on reading anything else by Riordan I hope she continues to be an important character in his other books. Nico was my favorite character like always. His plot line was the best. I liked getting to learn more about his powers and I surprisingly really came to like his relationship with Reyna. They were like brother and sister which was sweet to see. My feelings on the romantic relationships also didn’t change. Still don’t like Piper and Jason. Leo and Calypso still feel incredibly forced. Nico also gets a small romance but I didn’t have any strong feelings for it. I guess I just don’t like the way Riordan writes romance. He built up Percy and Annabeth’s relationship really well throughout five books but now it feels like most of his romances fall near the instalove category. For a final book this was disappointing. The entirety of it felt anticlimactic. At least after reading this whole series I’ve discovered that Riordan’s writing style doesn’t work for me and I won’t be wasting anymore time on it. He gives too much of his story away. I would give this entire series 4 stars because it was enjoyable. I just wish it had ended on a stronger note.