ᯓ★ pairing ⇢jason grace x reader x percy jackson
prompt: threesome
synopsis: jason scores. percy assists. holy munch alert.
tags: fem!reader. cunnilingus. consensual restraint. threesome. overstimulation. biting. hickeys. dom!jason. dom!percy. tag teaming.
wc: 978
thank you for 100 followers!
enjoy!
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“Hey, hold her still.” Jason breathed.
You were fighting it, every muscle tense, squirming futilely in Percy’s grip. Your reaction wasn't resistance, but sheer, overwhelming sensitivity. Your chest heaved, the air in the room suddenly depleting by the second. Jason knelt at the edge of the bed, his hands firmly wrapped around your thighs, forcing them wide.
Percy had you leaning against him, completely naked, nestled just in between his legs. His strength a steady brace as he propped your hips up to allow Jason easier access.
The position was obscene, to say the least.
The exhilarating humiliation of being the only one exposed only intensified your pleasure in a twisted, depraved way. Percy and Jason hadn't bothered to fumble with a single piece of cloth of their own, remaining untouched. Their focus was absolute, unwavering, completely immersed on you.
You couldn’t remember what time it was—you weren’t quite sure what day it was either, to be honest—all that you could register at the moment was how each respective boy felt against you.
Jason lapped his tongue in between the dripping folds of your cunt, forcing you to gasp as you held onto the gold of his hair while you bucked your hips forward desperately, grinding against his tongue, mouth hung open with shameless moans slipping out.
"Jason—fuck..." You panted.
He didn't speak. He just sucked harder on your clit, a feral grin pulling at his mouth as he felt your whole body convulse beneath him. Your praise fueled him with a hunger he couldn't name, making his actions reckless and intense.
He only knew he needed those delicate sounds to keep pouring out of you. Needed to feel your tremors against his face. More breathy sounds escaped your throat, your back arching sharply off Percy’s chest, the movement sending a jarring, involuntary grind against his dick.
Percy's breath hitched, the sudden friction a sharp, jolting demand. His grip dug into the soft flesh of your waist. To prevent you from squirming—or maybe just to exert more control.
His free hand shot up, fingers immediately surrounding the swell of your breast. He squeezed, hard enough to elicit a sharp gasp, then bent his head, fixing his teeth down on the sensitive curve of your shoulder where it met your neck. The shallow bite wasn't meant to hurt, but to mark, to claim.
a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. His eyes, fixed on you, were blazing with a certain hunger.
You whined, trying to hide your face, burying it deep into the warm curve of Percy’s neck, a desperate attempt for comfort. But Percy wouldn’t allow it. His hand clamped onto your chin, the pressure firm and undeniable.
“Come on,” Percy teased, voice low, “look at Jason while he’s working hard for you.”
With that, he forced your gaze down, past your heaving chest, to where the spectacled boy was focused.
Jason’s tongue tracked a wet, deliberate line along your pussy. He looked up, his half-lidded eyes meeting your wide ones across the intimate space. A slow, triumphant grin pulled at his mouth again just as he began to swipe his tongue in and out of you, his gaze locked on yours.
Jason was, for lack of a better word, drunk. Intoxicated from the liquor that had fermented from your essence, he was completely enthralled by you, enamored. He wasn’t sure if there was a place for him other than the space between your legs. He craved his being there in a way he couldn’t quite comprehend.
The pressure on your clit intensified, a coil tightening inside you, wound so delicately taut it felt like it might snap. Jason's ministrations became more frantic, his tongue a relentless, dizzying blur. Your hips arched higher, pushing against Percy’s body, your nails digging into his shoulders as a guttural cry tore from your throat.
"Percy, I'm—god, Jason!"
Your vision blurred. A blinding, all-consuming wave of pure, white-hot sensation crashed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling. Your legs spasmed, wrapping tighter around Jason’s head, and your back bowed so violently it felt like your spine might crack. You were so sensitive, your body still twitching with divine, painful pleasure.
But they didn't stop.
Your climax, instead of bringing release, felt like a reset button for their intensity. Percy's grip only deepened, his fingers now bruising as he held you impossibly still. The low growl in his chest vibrated through your back, a possessive hum, and his teeth scraped harder against your neck, leaving more demanding marks. You could feel the rigid length of his erection still pressing relentlessly against your ass, hot and unyielding.
And Jason. Jason, utterly unfazed by your screams, only pushed harder into the chaos he caused. His mouth was a vacuum, sucking, lapping, and nipping at your clit with renewed vigor.
The feeling was too much, a torrent of sensation that kept you suspended on the piquant precipice of pleasure and pain. You were completely overstimulated, all the nerve endings in your body screeching, but his relentless mouth gave you no solace, no moment to recover.
"Please," you whimpered, voice thin and raw, pulling at Jason’s hair to escape the advancements. But you were pinned, utterly at their mercy, caught between Percy's solid hold and Jason's insatiable mouth. They had taken complete control.
It wasn’t until later, after they had successfully coaxed out two more orgasms from within you, that you finally found yourself burrowed between them in bed. The warm lure of sleep was already dragging you under.
You leaned toward the warmth of Jason's body, your cheek resting against his chest, as his arm came protectively around your shoulders. Percy was tucked snugly against your back, his arms secured around your waist. Jason rested his other hand lightly in the dark of Percy's hair, connecting the three of you in an exhausted, peaceful knot.
on the scale of 1 to 10, how much can they match your freak?
— including.ᐟ Percy Jackson, Jason Grace, Leo Valdez, Frank Zhang.
— warning.ᐟ fem! reader, cunnilingus, body worshipping, edging, literally since all of them ends in a cliffhanger, praises, petnames (just baby though), swearing and profanity, but this is tumblr so..., SLIGHT size kink on Jason's part, phone call smash, masturbating, overstimulation, dirty talk, specified relationship, all of them are aged up!
— word count.ᐟ 5.9k
— a.n.ᐟ first fic on tumblr dot com! Sorry if Percy's part's too short... also had a lot of fun writing for Frank on this one! And can you tell I have a favorite?
「 ✦ Percy Jackson ✦ 」
Too focused on doing his hero duties, being the gods errand runner and all that has lessen your sexual activities with your boyfriend. He always discourages you from thinking any negative about his rowdy schedule and always ensure a brief make out before Chiron would call him. It doesn't bother you though, because you know by how he keeps texting you at night—via a smartphone the Hephaestus kids just made—he's not fine with the shits that's thrown at him either.
It'll always start with him checking you in, a few jokes and banter typed in, then it eventually ends up with you playing with your own squelching intimacy as he listens to every sound with a call. Every gasp from your mouth when he'd tell you just how he would handle if you if he's there instead. Every drip that your pussy floods when he's barely holding himself together. Every cry that slips out of your sweet lips coaxes him to abandon his studies and reach for his pants instead. Finger eagerly releasing his pants just before his hardening cock springs out, squirting tiny spurts of whites against his finding nemo t-shirt.
"Shit," he curses under his breath, and your back arches just when he lets a chuckle slips out, "You doing good there? Are your fingers better than mine?"
He'd say that, and when you just shakily whisper out a quiet no, you could practically imagine his crooked stupid grin. His own ragged breath matches yours, though it's clear that your moans and pleas are music to his ears than any of the rock bands on his room's wall could be.
Maybe your pussy might sing a little better than you do. He's observant enough to catch every filthy slaps and how your pussy sings just a much heavenly squeal with your whimpers. Fuck, maybe he should record the call in case he ever gets these nights again.
So yeah, based on that quip, Percy Jackson's a total 8.5 to match your heinous freak. It's pretty high for a boy who spends his sleeps wearing cartoon pajamas. You even sarcastically mocked at his choice of fashion when your first slept together, well—he quickly proved you wrong by shoving your face in his shark pillows and slam your cervix each time he pounds in behind your back. You weren't complaining, never with him. Cause he'd give you a thousands of munch to your raw and swollen pussy right after as an apology. Determined to make your pussy sing better than you.
「 ✦ Jason Grace ✦ 」
It's no secret that Jason Grace is good at leading; how his voice would lower into that authoritative tone when he's in battle, how his eyes seems to inject the graphic of lightning itself in the irises, how his brow would furrow slightly, and how the air changes to a steady flow that faintly circles his steps. That's the same Jason that appears when's all he's all buried in your deep, warm pussy.
To be real, he's not that clingy or thirsty eyes when you're outside in the day. But when you do catch him slip up one time, you waste no time to take the opportunity to confront each time he done it. Each time his gaze lingers slowly on your chest while you adjust your armor, each time his finger twitch when you're all sweaty after practice—light eyes suspiciously too fixated on how a sweat dribbles down past your armor. And he's already imagining on how lucky it is to be that useless dew of sweat to be able to kiss you pretty cleavage.
Because one thing about Jason Grace? He doesn't voice out his opinions immediately (unfortunately). And he'd definitely feel awkward about dreaming you in such position under the clear sun.
Of course, you decide to confront him today.
The talks of schedules, impromptu tournaments, and quest are filling up the room as Jason discuss with other campers. Right in the big house, you tug his sleeve. And Jason abandon all of his chatter when glances to you. Not even Mr. D's rantings are audible when you demand for his attention. He's a weak man when it comes to you. Though his expectation about your intentions are purely curious.
So he follows you right outside, thinking about how you probably want to talk about the crowd of sticky notes plastered all over your desk in the cabin. About the simplified notes of your school subjects that are served like a Michelin star on it. He's hoping to help you through your academic comeback during this year. While he believes you're smart, well, anyone smart must need someone as their assistant, right?
"You just need to repay me by acing that grades." He intents to say that as soon as you're between the bushes, though some harpies and demigods who doesn't have their own love life are trying too hard not to glance at you both. Jason's all ready to puff up his chest and smile the widest on his cheeks as he explains the reason for all the study bazaar in your room.
That is not what you called him for.
"Oh, no," he clears his throat just after a saliva got stuck in his own throat, "No, I mean..." his foot shifts to the other, breaking away your eye contact, "Are you uncomfortable with it? If I looked at you like that?"
Not really, you think.
So that explains the whole chronological order of how you are now getting your cervix smashed while desperately holding onto the crumpled bedsheet underneath. His hands are splayed on the either side your hips, locking you down as if you'd run away from his grasp when his bulbous cock is all the way in your tight heat. Making a transparent bulge in your abdomen that he can't help but shudder at the sight.
Your legs are cradled around his waist, diminishing any distance that doesn't involve you gasping and writhing your claws to paint a delicious painting on his back. As testament on how good he's getting your pussy to open up and take him in. Almost like he's pushing to shape your squelching walls based on the shape of his cock—that you almost swear you could not fit in earlier.
Well, it's not Jason if he doesn't usher you sweet praises and kisses all over your tears while he quite literally wrecks your senses to oblivion. His glasses are fogged up, sketching a hint of restraint on the lenses. He's trying so hard not to overwhelm you, really. But when your moans are the only sound filling this room and you're in front of him, all needy and wet—he just couldn't help it.
Besides, he trusts you more than anything to drop his guard and love you so good. Your cries are wanton, and you feel hazy with all the blood gathering in your walls—coaxing more fluids from your pussy that sucks him in with impeccable tightness. Every exhale of his mouth that hits your own almost feels like an unspoken language only the both of you understand. You see the clench of his jaw, how his hips are moving with a tremble like he's holding back.
So you tap his shoulder, just before caressing your hand on the flesh, "Jason," you inhale, "Faster."
"You're sure?" he croaks, the sound so vulnerable, "I'm not hurting you, aren't I?" his lips are agape, eyes wide behind his glasses as if he's searching for any hidden discomfort in your face.
You're not, though.
A sigh left his mouth, a long and trembling one. You crooked a smile when you witness how slowly his facade crumbles, just in the face of your sweet and clenching heat. Though that grin on your face? Gone just right as his one sharp piston hit the weakest spot inside, your freaking g-spot.
He doesn't to be willing to let you breathe and adjust to the sudden impact, because all you know by now is how good he's making you fly—wait, fly?
You could feel your hips raised up with your legs on top of his shoulders, what's abnormal is the fact that your back is raised from the sheets too. Your eyes immediately widens at the realization, but he does another thing that made you realize just how much of a freak he's hiding from you.
His glasses are placed upon your brow, and its lenses doesn't take too much time to blur when his breath are mingling on your face. Especially when he jolts your body by another one of his slam and startles the glasses to jump slightly.
And you could swear a low, "Fuck." could be heard from his line. Alongside a crooked smile on his cheeks.
Yeah, you should double check his purity test and see if it goes up to 7.5 now.
「 ✦ Leo Valdez ✦ 」
Leo freaking Valdez. Being a freak is his zodiac sign, his MBTI type, or whatever personality tests both of you take in leisure times. That should be no surprise to anyone, really.
It's deep in winter season; crystal falls like seeds that rain during pollination, and the air is crisp with jolly and hot chocolate's smoke. In your case? The only thing hot is the chocolate who's nuzzling his cheek to your neck. A blanket is splayed on your shoulders, enveloping you both like a cocoon.
It's understandable if getting down is the least on your mind at times like these. But knowing Leo...
It seems like he's determined not to pay attention to the movie you're watching right now. Courtesy of the TV screen that he stole from the Hermes Cabin (which is an impossible mission anyway). Usually, during these times, you'd play your favorite or absolute defect musicals, nothing in between. Sometimes, you'd have a bet on who could sing best of the songs from the theatrics (which you both sing horribly). The reward? Kisses and make out and cuddles until night.
"Leo." you warn, tapping his knuckles where he takes that as a sign to intertwine both of your hands instead. Which is ... not what you want but you're not complaining about that specific physical touch currently.
"Hmm, yeah?" his reply is one of that very raspy and lazy voices. It makes sense since you only got to interrupt his all night working (probably more than a night) today. The only sound coming out of his mouth is a sigh and whimper—which you're not sure where that comes from. That must be from exhaustion, right?
Wrong, because now he's slipping his hand right under your shirt.
"Leo!" a startled inhale escapes your throat, and you jump slightly in your position. That encourages him to curl his arms around your waist tighter, bringing you much closer than before.
"You said," he exhales, shifting in his seat to press a gentle kiss on your fluttering pulse. His hot breath is all over your skin, and the heater shaped as a cake in front of you might not be needed when he's the definition of flame itself.
"You said I should take my rest." Leo repeats, finally pulling away from hiding space to look up at you. His brows are scrunched together in an almost desperate image, his pupils are slowly dilating, and he puffs his cheek as if he's not a grown man currently, "So shouldn't I take a rest inside you?"
Then his eyes trails down, specifically to your thighs that are crossed right now, "Or maybe..." his tongue juts out to hydrate the dry lips, "What do they say? That it's better to eat first before sleeping?"
You're pretty sure it's the opposite.
"I've never heard of that—"
Your words are quick to fade down just like how the noises from Highschool Musical The Musical in your TV has gone to hollow. Blurry and static to your ears. Reason? Leo is quick as a bolt to sweep over all the stuffs on the desk, some tools are clanging against each other (which you're sure some are flammable). Even the makeshift heater displayed as a cake lets out a 'GAME OVER!' ring tone when it fell down.
There goes your beautiful popcorns too. And to Troy Bolton who is now going to witness something not very high school musical...
"Get on the desk." he says, almost like a breathless plea.
You do get on the desk.
His light honeyed eyes rakes over your form when you sits just upright the desk. He almost feels like a man who just got his Christmas present, or maybe a devout man who just witnessed his goddess for the first time.
"If I knew I could have you like this," his hand traces faint touches to your bare foot. Voice too reverent to fit for someone who just exploded a whole toaster earlier. "I'd ask you to pull me away from that toaster a lot sooner." his gaze meets you, and he really wants to watch your reaction when he lifts one of your foot and bring his lips to your midriff.
That brings a surprised stunt on your face.
A shaky exhale tumbles out of his lips like he just found an equation for his automatons. Though this is different. You're you and you're definitely made from more than just physics theories and equations. His lips are splattering tender kisses across your shin, each one a silent prayer and praises.
Leo flutters his eyes close, lashes brushing against your skin when he trails much higher. This time, with each kiss, he mutters a small quote, "Beautiful." and also, "So sweet." which you're more confused with the last prefer, are there any scientific proofs on thighs having a sweet taste?
Time to throw away all rational thoughts. Because one thing about Leo Valdez? Is that his words can pretty much nonsensical.
"Why have you been hiding this from me all the time?" he shudders. While you don't exactly agree with his accusation. He literally already ate you out when you know nothing but the fact that it's eight in the morning, and he's under the covers in your shared bed.
Oh well, told you to throw away all your logic when you're with him. Especially if he's needy.
Leo stops his mouth on your knee, he leaves one open mouthed kiss on the spot just before his hand splays over your other thigh. Slowly, he pushes your thighs apart—revealing a scenery of dessert that he's been craving ever since you got in the bunker looking all pretty. Which you technically are everyday.
"And this?" He laughs out loud, the sheer excitement carving a smile on his cheeks before he looks up to you, "You might as well not wear any panties coming right here." he points out, referring to your choice of clothes where you're not wearing any pants and only a baggy sweater (his sweater, by the way) to shield your body from the cold.
And as if he's not enough on bullying you—his fingers moves over to play around the waistband of your panties, pulling it and snapping it. "Not that I'm complaining." he notes, voice evident with that teasing tone, "I know that you're wearing a new one, and don't get me wrong," Leo flings his hands to the air, like a criminal who just got caught robbing a dessert store, "I like—no, love it so much with that little ribbon in the middle and the way your pussy is basically transparent—" he stops when you glare at him.
Though that classic Leo Valdez's grin appears on his lips, all teeth and slight dimples (if you squint hard enough), and it basically paints mischief over the apple of his cheeks. "But you know I'm just gonna rip it off in the end," pause, "Or steal it to keep for myself."
Wait, so that's why your underwear quantities are decreasing miraculously?
Before you could protest, Leo's lips are off your thigh and on your clothed center—the damp fabric is already a delicious taste for his mouth. You could hear an audible moan from him as he presses a kiss and pulls away from your wet panties.
His gaze locks up then, cheeky with that crooked grin and a lick of his tongue. Like he had won the best thing that ever happened to him (and in this case, it's you).
"Don't worry," he mumbles, eyes widening in haze, "I'll buy you a new one."
His mouth is back on your closed pulse, and his teeth tugs lightly on the wet fabric—which accidentally nibbles on one of your folds. That earned a quick gasp out of you.
"Leo." you call out, hands trailing to find anchor just before it tugs to his dark curls. Your pussy is practically sending warning signals to your brain—get it fucked or it might just get swollen and cry alone.
Well, who's to say no when your own brain tells you to get eaten out, right?
"More." you say.
And that's all it takes before he tugs down the panties with only his teeth. Pulling from the waistband while he directs his head down to string it away from shielding your heat any longer. Besides his hands, he's no amateur when it comes to his mouth it looks like. Now you're all bare under, panties halting on your knees, and your drowning heat shivers under the cold snowy air that hits it.
Leo's determined to change that temperature.
"Look at that." he laughs, "She's dripping already."
Did he just refer to your pussy by a subjective pronoun?
His calloused palms moves to your thighs to hold them apart. It doesn't take long seconds for him to press his lips onto your pulsing lips. A sigh immediately cracks out like it's always been natural. His mouth is gentle, but not without a tinge of hunger when he flutters his eyes back open and gaze up to you. Like he's all at your service.
You tug his curls much tighter.
Leo takes that as a sign to suck on your clit, not quite satisfying but enough for a moan to slip out of you. He works his mouth more harder then, using his expert tongue on pressing all over your folds that leaves a squelching sound. Your face shifts into a squirm as his hands draws closer to your heat.
He uses his thumbs to spread your pussy lips apart, and the expansion is impactful. Your eyes shots wide, back arching off when the perfect pleasure hits you like a scorching flame. The tip of his tongue flicks over your clit, and only now does he decide to bully it. His lips closes around it, and he finally kisses all the fluids and trembles that your heat emanates. Only giving you a time to breathe just to say, "One kiss and she's already crying."
You'd smack his head if it weren't for his mouth working so good in your intimacy.
Leo dives back in with another whimper of his, and he has no right to sound so cracked when you're the one getting ravished here. His focus is all on your clit for great minutes, determined to reach you over the heights of stars you wouldn't generally see in the night.
This is so much higher.
"Gah!" a gasp finally breaks out like a broken lyre, and your tug turns to a pull so he could dive deeper as if he's swimming through the fucking Mariana Trench. His tongue has curled and slipped into your clenching walls—you could hear a muffled groan below when his tongue just started to trace your hole.
Plump and sticky against your throbbing pulse.
He pulls out of the cavern, heavy breaths dropping from his slick—stained mouth like a lipgloss, literally. Just that it's made specifically from the sour fluids your pussy cried out. His honeyed eyes trails back upwards, almost dilated black from the angle you're viewing him.
"Come on," he breathes, almost delivering it like a plea with how wide his pupils are, "You can give me more, right? Get more nice and sloppy for me?"
Who are you to deny him?
His mouth is back on your fluttering heat when you pushes him back on your own tug. And it seems like the action is just another turn on besides the way your pussy must've felt to his tongue. Like even in this state, you couldn't resist to command him.
Leo may not be good at taking orders from others, but from you? You might as well make him an obedient puppy.
The folds of your pussy are screaming when he bites on it—because holy shit, who the hell goes aggressive at the first foreplay? The bite is sending another arch to your spine, it's not that harsh, but still torturous to your sensitive ache. Then his tongue involves in like he couldn't get enough of you. Swirling past the bitten folds before his thumb brushes against your clit.
Who the fuck ever goes this rough at first foreplay?!
"Ah! Oh, L-Leo—!" you couldn't see clearly with all the pleasure basking in your sight, so you close them instead. Lashes fluttering against your cheek when another loud moan rips out of your throat. Both of his thumbs now moves to spread your pussy lips wider, serving an entrance for his tongue to sliiide in like it's always belonged in your drowning walls. With him basically making out with your pussy, you could feel the slope of his nose brushing against your clit. And it took everything in you not to combust like his exploding mechanics.
And he does all that while whimpering like he's the one being undone right now. The sounds out of him are muffled and high pitched, like he lose all sense of control and just lets his voice pitch to mewl however he wants. He's not ashamed of being loud, it sounds like a perfect duet between him and your squirming lips (both on your face and between your legs).
"Leo, I swear—" you choke out a cry, head thrown to the back as more moans broke out of your throat, "Slow down—" which quickly turns into, "Haaah...! Mmm!"
He does halts. Mouth pulling out with a lewd pop! while his gaze fixates on your ache. He looks like he just got high on hundreds of drugs and drinks. His eyes lingers on the way more pre-cum drips out of your swollen folds, some even spurting out in a small burst.
"What's 252 divided by 7?" his question took you off guard more than the accumulative blood that clenches your muscles when it seeks for stimulation. You look at him wide eyes, like a deer in headlights as your brain processes his words dizzyingly.
"Uh... 36?" you stammers.
A shuddering laugh tumbles out from him right after. His eyes are hooded now, lips peeking flashy whites as the laugh continues on like he just watched Sherman Yang speeding around camp with fire in his pants.
"Smart girl," he coos and the praise goes straight to your impending release.
"But that means," he pokes his finger on your clit, that immediately drives your nails to shape crescent moons on the roots of his curls. His voice is low and breathy when he proclaims, "I haven't treated her good enough," did he just seriously mention your pussy by a subjective pronoun, again?! "That you can still think with your brain," he pecks a small kiss on your folds, "And not with her."
Huh?
He wastes no time to take advantage of your confusion by plunging his middle finger to your startled walls. And if that's not shocking enough? His tongue presses flat on your upper labia. Swirling around your squirming bud as he lets out a guttural moan.
"Ah! Wh-Wha—oh!" you swear you could've seen the starry night and the constellations that decorates them when you feel it. His finger is deft inside you, like he's maneuvering through an engine's hole to fix the correct spot.
That spot is the bundle right at the top of your curved muscles.
Of course it doesn't take a minute for him to find it like the mastermind he is. He doesn't even brush against it, no. He's down bad pressing on it, igniting crackling flames that sparks up all over your veins and shuts off your brain. Your legs are now tied around his head, mushing his cheeks with your trembling thighs when you could only stare dumbly at the ceiling.
He has the audacity to pull out with a chuckle.
A lopsided grin graces his face, all the more frustrating with that low crackle of his voice that seems to spark chills down your spine, "Let's get her ready for something bigger, huh?"
Yeah, something as big as 9.0 inches. Oh wait, is that his dickmeter or is that just the number on how freaky you think he is for you?
「 ✦ Frank Zhang ✦ 」
Frank Zhang is the type of guy who's famous with his bold yet sweet upbringing, he'd always light up the room—not with the usual frightening smoke that circles around children of Mars—Frank's more tamed. He'd bring you some new polished weapons from the forge to your cabin, too sweet with that big smile on his face. Suddenly, it's a must for you to have a duel with him every morning like a maniac. You love him, of course. You'll do anything for him.
But... there are days where you're just not in the mood, and rather much basking in your comfy covers and cold pillows. You know that Frank wouldn't mind, maybe a small downturned smile—but that's all it will. He'd probably knock on your door with a hushed whisper. And when no one comes to abide his entrance? He'd just slump slightly and move on with his own practice, he's respectful like that.
Him busting down your door (and nearly making all the birds turn to your cabin) while looking like he ran all across the long island was not in your morning agenda. Frank—friendly and thoughtful—Zhang wouldn't come to your room, surprising your groggy half awake-half asleep state, and drop to his knees at the corner of your bed.
He'd speak your name softly, as if he hadn't strut in here with rough steps and breathing. It took three calls of your name before he drops his head low and sighs.
That defeated sigh is what gets you up, fluttering your eyes slowly with a low hum. Because as much as you love to fly in your dreams, there are some things that makes it worth to stay on the ground. Him being quiet for example. Not quiet like the kind and awkward quiet that he usually is with you. But quiet like he's prioritizing you over his own needs. That's not how this should work.
"Frank," your word is a dim whisper to the chirps of the birds, "Why are you on the floor? Especially kneeling?" you pushed your elbows to dig onto the mattress, just so you could rest your chin on your palm and take a sight of him more clearly.
If he's mad about you not going to your usual morning practices, shouldn't he be dragging you out of the pillows and not doing this?
"Look," Frank breathes out. Short black locks falling slightly to his upper forehead when he shakes his head, "First of all, I'm not mad about you skipping our practice." he finally peeks upwards to meet your eyes, and there's a way his pupils dilate that makes you frown a tad bit. "So don't get the wrong idea."
He shifts in his kneeling position, his palms holding onto the edge of your bed. And your brows knits even more, your hands are just beside his, why would he hold on to the bed instead of your hands?
"Second of all, did a certain bird left a note on your desk?" he asks nervously, eyes searching for any white objects on the desk across from him.
There is. A folded cream note on your small desk beside the bed. It doesn't look that suspicious at first, but now that he mentioned it...
He'd already grabbed onto your wrist when you attempt to grab the paper. His knee leaves the floor and climbs to the bed, his chest brushing slightly against your arm, and the way his every exhale fans over your neck makes you pause in your move. You know that Frank is excitable and sometimes impulsive, but since when is he hiding things from you out of all people?
"There's nothing there, trust me." he says each word with an emphasis. His eyes are peering down to yours, and there's almost akin to pinning down when it comes to what he's doing with you.
You try to slip out and act faster this time.
"No, no," he grabs your extended arm again, nearly flipping you over to flap your back to the mattress. That makes you realize in your still sleep-induced state, that he is pinning your wrist to the bed and places one knee to the space between your thighs.
"Trust me." he sighs, and you understand the context of this whole situation.
Your hand trails up to reach his own arm, brushing your palm against the muscles of his skin. Slowly, you traverse higher, massaging his beautiful, mouth watering biceps. Even your hand pauses at that area for a moment, feeling the faint veins tensing under your touch.
"Then tell me what's in it." the mutter left your mouth like a soft command. And Frank can't help but perks his ears at the tone.
"It's not—really, it's just a bunch of doodles and—"
"Frank." your hand slips into the space behind his neck, just before you pull him in so he'd stop right in front of your face. A breather away from nuzzling your noses together.
His eyes dilates for a fraction. Suddenly being pulled into a half embrace and stare lovingly into his lovely eyes seems like a perfect method if you ever want to shut off his brain and let his mouth do the thinking.
"I was just—" he pauses, voice uncharacteristically quiet when he clears his throat, "I was in one of those hormonal phase. Like I just dreamt about you this morning and I woke up—well—needing you."
He blinks several times, a nervous gleam evident in his eyes as his mouth presses into a thin line.
You knew it.
"You don't need to keep it to yourself, you know?" your words attracts a shuddering exhale from him.
"Then can I..." he pauses, letting the variables linger in their shared warmth, "Can I take you?" it sounded more like a rhetorical question than a plea.
"I don't know," a cheeky smile curls its way on your lips, your finger twirling around his black locks, "Can you?"
With that, it feels like you just woken up the beast, as corny as it sounds.
His lips crashes to yours in an instant, stealing a sharp gasp from your end, especially when he sucks on your upper lip. His single hand wanders to your waist, brushing his thumb to your shirt without slipping its way underneath the cloth. He'll need your permission first.
"Baby," he exhales in a form that almost sounded like restraint, parting from your lips for a moment before catching your mouth with his own open wide. Brushing his tongue against yours.
You pull your own hand to his calloused palm on your waist, guiding him to touch the flesh underneath willingly.
His mouth shapes into a circular, a shuddering breath escaping his mouth as the kiss turned more open-mouthed and breathy. Like they're sharing air rather than sucking it from each other. His palm is like a touch of arousal to your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
It arouses you even more when the said big palm of his is traversing to the pulsing beat of your heart. Cupping your breast in one single grab. It doesn't help either that your hips presses against one another, brushing your dangerously thumping heat to his own.
Soon enough, your shirt is forgotten quickly on the floor. Your legs are hiked up to wrap around his bare waist, trembling with each dry thrust he pushes when he grinds onto your damp pants. His mouth is still eagerly sucking on your bundle of nerves, even giving a small bite before he moves on to the next breast.
"O-Oh," is all your mouth could utter, shamelessly.
"Gods, how did I get so lucky?" Frank mumbles, most likely to himself. As he is too far in trance when he grinds his hips back to yours, purposely pressing his bulge to your already sensitive center. Each brush is like torture wrapped in bliss, sweet with honey like the groan he slips out when he bites your nipple hard, and hot with spice like the words he whispers to you.
"You wanna know what I wrote in that letter?"
You could only reply in another mewl.
"I dreamed," his hand slides to your thigh, gripping the flesh under his large palm, "Exactly like this. Except..." Frank's mouth parts away from your bundling hard nipple, licking his tongue on it before speaking once again, "I'm handling you, backwards." another thrust to your squealing clothed pussy, "And I'm kissing you all over, from your back to your..." he blushes, as if you weren't the one being violated. His next word is a shudder, "Ass..."
Huh, he says it like you'd be uncomfortable by it.
Well, someone's gotta be the shameless one in this relationship, right?
"Make me come," you say, "And I might let you eat me out from behind."
In the span of seconds, he's ripping off your short pants.
"You can't just say that..." his face is burning red, black eyes dropping hazily while evident exhales are running off from his mouth. The only walls between his cock and your pussy is the pants he has on, and the panties he only left you in. A moan quickly broke out from your throat when you could feel him getting harder. Humping harsher and more desperately—the motion is almost animalistic. You'd think he shape-shifted, especially with his fingers now tugging on your hair.
Your folds are basically translucent to your fabric, highlighting your dripping lips and pulsing clit. It's half parted, like it's been too sensitive ever since he denied your pleasure and focused on his own instead. That relieves you though, at least he allowed himself to be selfish with you.
"How about," his next thrust almost makes you sob into his shoulder, your arms clinging around his muscular and wide back. You could feel every muscle of his tensing when you snap your hips upwards. The bed creaks under you both, and you worry the sound might wake up the dryads slumbering next to your cabin.
"You ride me," the outline of his hard cock presses like a charcoal to an ember, electrifying your body in a harsh arousal as your pussy lips physically squelch against his pants.
"And I might just let you come." Frank smiles against your lips, adding another smoldering snap to your clenching heat before he smashes his lips onto yours.
If you think your boyfriend is still oh so sweet and kind? Maybe you've lost your mind when he cracks your back with a score of 8.0.
bad bitch in between ur teeth ( eat it up, eat it, eat it up ! )
︵ how jason grace & leo valdez ( separately ) eat it up !
cws. nsfw / smut under the cut , 18+ only ; minors dni ! fem reader. oral ( fem receiving ). overstim ( ? ). fingering. edging. squirting. no plot. wc : 1542.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀guilty pleasure never killed nobody ⋮ ( jason grace )
༊ jason grace is an observer. his eyes turn a shade darker as he watches you through his lashes—watching every squirm, shiver, and sigh you make as his tongue fucks you. it’s a carnal need of his to know exactly what makes you throw your head back, screaming his name; what makes you tug at his blond locks, pulling him closer and closer to your core; what makes you moan and whimper; and, most importantly, what makes you cum on his tongue the fastest. he wants to know what makes you feel good!
༊ he eats you out for his pleasure—he’s genuinely such a giver and it shows so much in bed. he puts you first, making you cum on his tongue over and over while he’s rutting into the edge of the bed. he probably even came untouched, the taste of you and the feel of your thighs around his head enough to make him soil his pants.
༊ jason leaves bites & hickies along your inner thighs. the fact that only he can see those marks gets him going.
jason grace starts out slow. oh so painstakingly slow.
he positions you so that you're near the edge of the bed before kneeling before you, cock already straining against his pants at the sight of your clothed pussy.
he trails kisses up, up, up, stopping just right at the juncture where your legs and pelvis meet before nipping and sucking at the bout of flesh. he kisses after every harsh bite, licking over the blemishes and soothing the heated skin—doing everything but your eating your pussy.
when he sees you squirm closer, he lets out a small chuckle.
“i know, i know,” he says, with the nonchalance you wouldn't expect from a man who's already rock-hard and leaking. when he glances back up at you, his eyes are sincere. "use the safe word if you need to, okay?"
when you nod, jason proceeds.
the cool air meeting your pussy is what you register as he peels down your panties and tosses them behind. jason grace audibly groans at the sight, swearing, “shit, baby, you're wet.”
strong arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer, closer to him. “you're gorgeous everywhere,” he tells you, before pressing a kiss to your clit.
you shudder as he flattens his tongue against your folds, tracing around your entrance and pooling your juices before slurping. you let out a whine when he slips the muscle in, then out, then in again.
when his tongue darts out to graze at your clit, your legs move on their own—crossing right behind his head and caging him. your back arches off the bed when jason sucks your clit gently, the muscle rolling against your bundle of nerves, over and over and over.
“feels s’—hngh—y’feel soo good, jay,” you cry, and oh, jason thinks he could pass out with how prettily you whine out his name.
you look down at him, and gods, jason is a sight. half-lidded, dark blue eyes locked on yours with such an intensity you feel like hiding away. hair tussled, some strands sticking to his forehead already. you see him rutting against the sheets and groan out.
his grip tightens around your thighs, trying to close the little distance between your cunt and his face. it's like jason can't get enough, alternating between lapping at your folds like a man starved and letting his tongue flick at your swollen clit. you can't help but reach over at his locks and tug.
“y’like that, angel?”
“oh! yes, jay, love it s’much—”
you’re burning, every cell of your body, every nerve ending aflame with pleasure at the way jason’s eating you out. you can't help but buck your hips up, meeting him halfway.
he’s nose-deep in your pussy, drinking you in, speeding up his ministrations at the way you involuntarily squirm and grind against his tongue.
“mmgh—baby, ‘m close. s’close, jay.”
jason hums against your pussy, the vibrations from it making you whine. “c’mere, my girl. cum f’me.”
and something snaps.
the next thing you register is white hot, searing pleasure. you're cumming with a strangled gasp of his name, your orgasm hitting you like lightning. he’s helping you ride peak after peak on his tongue, not stopping, even as you’ve already came down from the high.
“fuck—hah!—too much, baby, wait—”
jason only groans in reply, tightening his grip on your thighs—dark eyes half-lidded, intense. “please, can you give me one more? y’can take it, angel, i know ya can.”
oh, you truly were in for a looong night.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀빼고 싶니? bon appetit ! ⋮ ( leo valdez )
༊ leo valdez has such long, nimble fingers and you best believe he puts them to good use, even when eating you out! while his tongue is flicking up and down, sucking slow but steady, and circling your clit, his fingers are pumping in and out of your dripping pussy.
༊ leo gets messy. he's not content unless the lower half of his face is completely soaked with you. it ends up being so downright filthy—he’ll slurp at your juices like a man deprived, like his life depended on the slick that pooled down your thighs.
༊ he made you squirt on his tongue once and he’s been obsessed with recreating it ever since.
leo’s mouth on you is hot.
it's hot, his kisses searing as he carries you towards his work desk, haphazardly sweeping away anything and everything on it to settle you down. it’s hot as his kisses trail away from your mouth and to the point between your neck and shoulder that has you throwing your head back and sighing.
“need you so bad, leo,” you all but whine, grabbing his hand and bringing it to where you need him the most.
leo’s fingers deftly snake down to your clothed cunt, feeling the dampness leaking through the cotton.
“all this for me, sweets?” he nips at your pulse point. “so wet, and we barely even started.”
when you spread your legs wider, he doesn't leave a moment to waste before pushing in a finger, then another, past your weeping folds, then curling against that spot that makes you see stars.
“right there?” he asks. all you can do is nod helplessly, frantically—telling him more, more, more.
he thrusts knuckle-deep into your pussy, in and out and in again, hitting that same spongy spot over and over.
and you feel it—the all-too familiar coil in your lower abdomen tightening with every pump of his fingers inside you.
and then, leo stops.
you whine out, “leo, what was—?”
he presses a kiss to your lips.
“‘m sorry, just trust me, yeah?”
leo slips his digits into his mouth, tongue lathering up and down every bead of slick he’s collected. when he tastes you, he audibly groans. “gods, baby, y’taste so fucking good.”
he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs wider to give space for him between them. he doesn't waste any time before diving into your cunt, giving her the filthiest french kiss.
you moan out his name and he surfaces up, only to tell you to “lock it, baby.”
you do. you lock your ankles behind his head, trapping him between your thighs.
and, honestly? leo wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
he’s not hesitating, not easing you into this. no, he’s going all in—smushing his nose against your clit and kissing the entrance of your hole. he drives his tongue in, gliding the muscle inside, circling the inner walls of your pussy. he’s leaving open-mouthed kisses against your cunt, then hollowing his cheeks and slurping. the sound is downright sinful—oozing squelches and slurps. he groans against your cunt.
“she’s talkin’ back t’me, sweets,” leo mumbles. “think she wants more.”
and oh, you do. you tell him so, whining a, “please, please, leo, wan’ more—ah!”
leo’s long fingers tease your pussy’s lips, fingertips circling once, then twice, before sliding them inside. curling against the spongy spot that has you throwing your back and singing.
“fuck, fuck! s’deep, l-leo—so good,”
at the same time, he’s nearing his lips towards your clit, using his tongue to flick up and down, up and down, toying with the puffy bundle of nerves.
you cry at the contact—tremble at leo’s fingers rummaging stripes out of your pussy and curling at your g-spot, and his mouth sucking and nibbling at your swollen clit. it’s a familiar pattern of pump, curl, pump, curl, one that has you nearing release. you feel him grin against your cunt—he knows this, too.
“‘m g’na cum again,” you tell him, hands bunching in his curls and pulling him oh so close, “please—hngh—leo—don’ stop, please”
and he doesn't. he doesn't stop, not even as you’re thrashing against him, gliding your cunt across the lower half of his face.
you sob as your orgasm crashes through you. it's so hard and borderline violent that all you can do is tug and pull at his brown hair in an effort to get him to “s-slow down, leo, ah—!”
and he doesn't. he doesn't stop, not even when he’s drenched, all but glistening with your wetness. his pretty girl is absolutely gorgeous, squirting on his tongue—all over him.
you’re a panting, twitching mess as he laps up everything you've gushed out, everything dripping out of you. and fuck if his cock isn’t aching against the confines of his pants.
“can we try that again, baby?” he asks you, hand already fiddling with the buckle of his belt. “want it on my dick this time, though.”
okay ... i admit . i am a #whore . and i'm #ovulating and i want them between my thighs RIGHT FREAKING NOW 😢 hehe let me know what u guys think about this && stream spaghetti by le serrafim ! <3
I have seen a few fics where Shen Jiu!Shen Qingqiu gets pollened into having kitty ears which gets him thoroughly embarrassed for a bit but I have yet to see one where it gets him straight up exposed
So he gets pollened and the other perk lord expect something like this:
24/7 just more obviously an asshole than usual
Meanwhile Shen Qingqiu actually:
Shen Qingqiu still keeps up his usual act, which has the other perk lords quite confused. Sick? Ok. He got pollened. But wdym scared? Scared of what?? And all the time???
Meanwhile Shen Qingqiu has no idea his new body parts are betraying him like that. His mask is perfect after all, nothing has changed. Except the damn ears refuse to participate in the performance.
juno as jason's patron and mother / gaea as hazel's patron and mother. jason was forfeited by his mother and his father and given to juno while gaea possessed hazel's mom - and so the earth actually became hazel's mother
both goddesses demand that they perform labor in direct service to their bodies. juno has to be rescued from prison. hazel must raise alcyoneus from gaea's womb. mother as patron and patron as mother. these titles are indivisible from ownership in the mind of a deity
[I'm not trying to *expose* Rick here or anything. I only want to complain about his writing style here because rereading the books, it's frustrating me a lot. Just trying to get this off my chest.]
On a line-to-line level, Rick is incompetent at writing. He's so ass.
This paragraph single-handedly gave me the urge to write this post:
The stone walls glowed. The air felt as if we were walking through an oven. The tunnel sloped down and I could hear a loud roar, like a river of metal. The spider skittered along, with Annabeth right behind.
This paragraph is just an example among many others of Rick's inability to write engaging descriptions and the weakness of his voice when you zoom in on a paragraph-scale.
There's a blatant lack of immersive details and sensory descriptions.
He told us briefly that the stone walls glowed, when he could've described how they cast eery orange highlights in Annabeth's curls.
He told us that the air feels like they're walking in an oven, when he could've given more claustrophobic details, like how their Camp HB T-shirts clinged to their bodies, or how Percy struggled to keep a hold of Riptide because of his sweaty palms, or how it felt like the hot air was making his feet heavier, turning each new step into a weight-lifting workout.
He told us the spider was skittering along with Annabeth tailing it, when he could've said that the heat was making Percy's head so dizzy, the most he could make of the spider was a blurry black spot moving in zigzags. He could've added that Percy was grateful for Annabeth being here to lead the way, because he would've been lost otherwise.
2. There's a lack of rhythm between sentences.
To add on, there's no interesting variation in Rick's sentence structures. Far too often, sentences start in the exact same way, in this example with a noun (The stone walls, The air, The tunnel, The spider) which makes it sound repetitive and monotonous.
Thus, if I could describe Rick's writing voice with one word, it would be "staccato." Separate. Individual.
Sentences isolate themselves, as if they hate working together.
Paragaphs reluctantly give way to other paragraphs.
Scenes rarely vary in length, and the way they transition from one to the next looks like they've been cut with terrible scissors and stuck with tons of glue by a four years old. A very clumsy four years old.
Here is another frustrating example:
Annabeth went to join her brethren from the Athena cabin, who had set up a command tent and were directing operations. A gray banner with an owl fluttered outside the tent. Our security chef, Argus, stood guard at the door. Aphrodite's children were running around straightening everybody's armor and offering to comb the tangles out of our horsehair plumes. Even Dionysus' kids had found something to do. The god himself was still nowhere to be seen, but his two blond twin sons were running around providing all the sweaty warriors with water bottles and juice boxes.
3. Redundancies and unintented repetitions.
"[Greek god]'s children were running around" is used twice.
4. Impersonal and disembodied descriptions.
Where is Percy in this paragraph? The books are from his point of view, after all, yet it feels like he's not even part of the scene, as if he's observing it from high up in the clouds or something.
The effect is to detach the readers from the camp. We can't get into the scene, because Percy isn't in there either. He is not a participant.
And this fucking sucks.
Maybe Percy tried to follow Annabeth in the Athena Cabin, but was denied by Argus, who glared at him with just one of his eyes, as if he could not afford to spare the ninety-nine others.
Maybe a little boy from Aphrodite's Cabin jogged to Percy and stood on his tippy-toes to help fasten his chest armor. Maybe Percy thanked him by ruffling his hair, even though he didn't really need the help. The Aphrodite boy would grin and then run on to help the next camper, eager to make himself more useful.
Maybe Percy got shoved out of the way by an Ares child who yelled at him to move his butt, not even bothering to look back. Maybe Percy pushed back the grape juice that one of the Dionysus twin was trying to force him to drink.
No wonder you can't feel much when the writing is this bland and unimpressive. I'm not asking for earth-shattering prose, or for Rick to write award-winning similes and metaphors. But I beg, give this man writing lessons. He needs those. At the very least so he is able to invite anyone into his world.
Rick Riordan's depiction of "feminism" and it's impact to the fandom
i feel like a lot of the fandom is polarized by two things. There are the mainstream fans that like most of Rick's literary decision and call him Uncle Rick, I'm going to expand on this later, but bcs of that they tend to see any valid criticism of his female characters as misogyny. And then there's the one's criticizing ig. I want to try to expand on the why's the how and the what can we do with it. So I'm going to try to contextualize this as well as I can.
The time it was written's feminist ideology
The Percy Jackson books where written in the 2000's. Where the feminist ideology at the time was for one very white cis heteronomative and classist even. Most of the movements at the time where not only very centered around white dishes women, but it also ignored any type of intersectionality that were seeing today.
But even ignoring all of that. My main focus for what I'm trying to say is what the feminist women became at the time. Which was a woman who was a "girl boss" and most of the time hated men. Which culminated into this misandrist ideology romantization. That made a lot of women and young girls feel like men were like that bcs they aren't capable of better. Not because the system sets it up like that, which makes the barrier of men having to get rid partly of our capitalist ideology of need of power to actually not be misogynistic. Which could also get summarized by the fact that that wave of feminism was looking for individual empowerment and carcerall feminism, instead of trying to dismantle the system that creates the problem.
It was understandable for the political climate of the time. But RR's writting really reflects that. And if it was just the first series it would be one thing. But he got stuck with that and hasn't stopped doing it. Which makes that his female characters don't actually get character development in any way on that matter.
More on the girlboss in this YT video by Quality culture.
His characterization of women
im going to try to talk about some of his main female characters from PJO and HOO and as short as I can but still tackling the main issues:
SALLY JACKSON:
She is a good mother. That can't be denied. But in a way, he creates this narrative in which she can't do no wrong. So when she makes questionable choices it is never adressed. My best and biggest offender is this:
When she's with Gabe to protect Percy she is abused by him and thinks that with that he won't touch Percy, which her trauma should have been adressed more in future books because spouse abuse is no joke. But we should also take into account that their house had the floor full of bottles/cand of beer. That is by no means a good environment for a child. And the fact that its never acknowledge how she was neglectful in that part, even with her being abused and the situation, it would have made so much sense if that created mixed feelings for Percy. Hell. It would have made it much more interesting. Children of abuse tend to latch on to their "good" parent (I surely did). But when they grow up and mature they tend to see it from an outsider perspective. And that conflicting feeling would have been very good to show Sally as the flawed character she is and a way to validate abused children's emotions and thoughts.
More on a mothers role and it's social standards in this YT video by oliSUNvia.
ANNABETH CHASE:
She could've been a very good character. Her abandonment issues and pride are some very nuanced problems to tackle. And whould've been a good example for kids struggling with them. But they get ignored. Annabeth got girlboossed so much in canon that her pride is never actually fully tackled in way where she notably grows from it.
In the latter books she still always thinks she's right. Other characters talk about her like she's some kind of perfect person that is never wrong. And with that her actions get worse and worse with each book. When Annabeth is over jealous in the OG series and can't cope with it healthily it makes sense. But when she is the same in HOO with wanting to keep Percy on his toes talking about Rachel it just feels like she didn't grow in that time. When she hits Percy bcs she has emotions, and is a teenager, and is unable to express them healthily. It makes sense. A lot of girls live through a stage where they feel like they have to hit and punch and shout to be heard. But that isn't good for her or Percy. And when it gets to the point where Percy anticipates more that she will hit him than be affectionate when they're together? Then there's no actual development in her anger issues either.
RACHEL ELIZABETH DARE:
She isn't just reduces as a catalyst to move forward percabeth by the end of PJO. But she is never actually completely fleshed out. We never know her feelings about her class/power position and how it affect the environment. We never fully get the whole mortal with sight experience. The fact that she was thought crazy? The fact that she HERSELF thought she was going crazy. The whole Percy and her romantically arc. How Annabethe treated her and called her mortal —used like a slur btw—.The whole Oracle thing. There's nothing actually. We are just told that she and Annabeth make up OFF SCREEN. But there's never even one Rachel POV.
We basically stop seeing her after she becomes the virgin Oracle. And that's because that was mostly used as a way to leave the reigns to percabeth. To stop the perachel fans. She was there to create the tension to make Annabeth kiss Percy and create tension just to make her impossible to date to stop that ship.
THALIA GRACE + CLARISSE LA RUE:
im doing them together bcs they both fall into the stereotype of girl boss that has anger problems that never get a dressed in a meaningful way and are good bcs they aren't girly. (This is the main point and bcs it's one that a lot of people agree with if you want to expand on it I'm sure there's good posts here on Tumblr or you can make me an ask if you want but this is alr long af)
Thalia (and Reyna) are also put in the hunters of Artemis bcs it's inconceivable to RR to have a girl single and not make her aroace. She literally made a point to point out that Reyna and Thalia are only friends just to discourage the fans of the ship.
More on this in the books in this post by rosabell14.
More on this socially in this YT video by Tara Mookne.
More on the ace spec in this YT video by Rowan Ellis.
PIPER MCLEAN + APHRODITE:
She's basically the staple of not like other girls. She's constantly compared with the other Aphrodite kids and how she's better bcs she isn't feminine/superficial (bcs they are treated as one). There's a whole problem with making the whole Aphrodite cabin made as superficial only bcs they're kids of the beauty goddess.
Bcs Aphrodite also got reduced here. She's also a war goddess. The love goddess, and not only romantic which was all RR made of her. She's from the sea. She's prideful. Powerful. Vengeful. But that's never touched.
More on the pick me in this YT video by Jaidyn Zehner.
HAZEL LEVESQUE:
Let me tackle her. Because making one of your only black characters the mom friend. A stereotype that black women/girls have had to endure because of racism and white people adultifying them is insane. Her relationship with blackness and her hair never being really adressed, when she lived in the 40s which was under the Jim crow laws. With segregation. With BIWOC having to relax/straighten their hair just to be able to go to places.
She's not a girl boss. But she gets romanticized. She does no wrong. And she also never actually tackles the dichotomy of her past experience with her race and society and her new life in a basically new world for her.
More of this in this post by bayetea.
The fandom's parasocial relationship with Rick Riordan:
To understand my next point we need to talk about this. Most of this fandom calls him Uncle Rick, see him as a beacon of good writing and representation. We as a fandom have created a parasocial relationship with him via his writing. Bcs the POV he makes are relatable. Bcs his —internalized as it seems— racist, sexist, homophobic opinions that are reflected in his writing aren't noticible at first glance and need some level of critical analysis.
But he's not our friend. We don't know him. He's not a perfect person and not a perfect writer by any means. But by creating this parasocial relationship with him —which he intensifies with how he interacts with us, bcs it's a marketing strategy. You can't lose money when your fans idealize you and defend you immensely.— we've entered a point where if anyone criticizes him a lot of people feel like they're attacking him, and as his "friends" we can't let that happen.
We shouldn't do that the same way we know it's bad when it happens with celebrities.
That does not mean we shouldn't respect him as a human being. But we can criticize his writing. What he does for a living of which we are the costumer.
More on parasocial relationships in this YT video by Shanspeare.
The mainstream opinion:
It has become a personal attack. It's not seen as literary analysis and critical thinking. It's reached a point where it's seen as an attack to him —and bcs of the parasocial relationship— an attack to the fans.
It's also important to denote how this part of the fandom has gotten so into their canon idea —which is actually a rethought of canon. But bcs it's been so popularized it's seen as actual canon.— that anyone with other opinions is treated as "stupid". Fandom is to enjoy the media in any way the fans want. We should not be so canon purists, because it has made the fandom toxic to anyone who wanders even a little out of line.
The critics of this misandrist feminism:
Even if it is important to criticize this kind of ideology, it's also important to note that all the characters are victims of such biases. So just hating the female characters of the PJO series because they don't like the character without understanding the origin of this and all characters with much more other controversial characterizations, —Racism, ableism, homophobia, classes, bad understanding of Hellenistic paganism and more.— loses a lot of information that doesn't just make you have more deep and thought out characters but also gives you more understanding of this political/ethical issues.
Anyone want to add their grain of salt in this is more than welcome!! I'm sure I've missed some parts. Especially on the his characterization part, because I had to try to do it as short and concise as possible bcs this is long af.
Rick Riordan's depiction of "feminism" and it's impact to the fandom
i feel like a lot of the fandom is polarized by two things. There are the mainstream fans that like most of Rick's literary decision and call him Uncle Rick, I'm going to expand on this later, but bcs of that they tend to see any valid criticism of his female characters as misogyny. And then there's the one's criticizing ig. I want to try to expand on the why's the how and the what can we do with it. So I'm going to try to contextualize this as well as I can.
The time it was written's feminist ideology
The Percy Jackson books where written in the 2000's. Where the feminist ideology at the time was for one very white cis heteronomative and classist even. Most of the movements at the time where not only very centered around white dishes women, but it also ignored any type of intersectionality that were seeing today.
But even ignoring all of that. My main focus for what I'm trying to say is what the feminist women became at the time. Which was a woman who was a "girl boss" and most of the time hated men. Which culminated into this misandrist ideology romantization. That made a lot of women and young girls feel like men were like that bcs they aren't capable of better. Not because the system sets it up like that, which makes the barrier of men having to get rid partly of our capitalist ideology of need of power to actually not be misogynistic. Which could also get summarized by the fact that that wave of feminism was looking for individual empowerment and carcerall feminism, instead of trying to dismantle the system that creates the problem.
It was understandable for the political climate of the time. But RR's writting really reflects that. And if it was just the first series it would be one thing. But he got stuck with that and hasn't stopped doing it. Which makes that his female characters don't actually get character development in any way on that matter.
More on the girlboss in this YT video by Quality culture.
His characterization of women
im going to try to talk about some of his main female characters from PJO and HOO and as short as I can but still tackling the main issues:
SALLY JACKSON:
She is a good mother. That can't be denied. But in a way, he creates this narrative in which she can't do no wrong. So when she makes questionable choices it is never adressed. My best and biggest offender is this:
When she's with Gabe to protect Percy she is abused by him and thinks that with that he won't touch Percy, which her trauma should have been adressed more in future books because spouse abuse is no joke. But we should also take into account that their house had the floor full of bottles/cand of beer. That is by no means a good environment for a child. And the fact that its never acknowledge how she was neglectful in that part, even with her being abused and the situation, it would have made so much sense if that created mixed feelings for Percy. Hell. It would have made it much more interesting. Children of abuse tend to latch on to their "good" parent (I surely did). But when they grow up and mature they tend to see it from an outsider perspective. And that conflicting feeling would have been very good to show Sally as the flawed character she is and a way to validate abused children's emotions and thoughts.
More on a mothers role and it's social standards in this YT video by oliSUNvia.
ANNABETH CHASE:
She could've been a very good character. Her abandonment issues and pride are some very nuanced problems to tackle. And whould've been a good example for kids struggling with them. But they get ignored. Annabeth got girlboossed so much in canon that her pride is never actually fully tackled in way where she notably grows from it.
In the latter books she still always thinks she's right. Other characters talk about her like she's some kind of perfect person that is never wrong. And with that her actions get worse and worse with each book. When Annabeth is over jealous in the OG series and can't cope with it healthily it makes sense. But when she is the same in HOO with wanting to keep Percy on his toes talking about Rachel it just feels like she didn't grow in that time. When she hits Percy bcs she has emotions, and is a teenager, and is unable to express them healthily. It makes sense. A lot of girls live through a stage where they feel like they have to hit and punch and shout to be heard. But that isn't good for her or Percy. And when it gets to the point where Percy anticipates more that she will hit him than be affectionate when they're together? Then there's no actual development in her anger issues either.
RACHEL ELIZABETH DARE:
She isn't just reduces as a catalyst to move forward percabeth by the end of PJO. But she is never actually completely fleshed out. We never know her feelings about her class/power position and how it affect the environment. We never fully get the whole mortal with sight experience. The fact that she was thought crazy? The fact that she HERSELF thought she was going crazy. The whole Percy and her romantically arc. How Annabethe treated her and called her mortal —used like a slur btw—.The whole Oracle thing. There's nothing actually. We are just told that she and Annabeth make up OFF SCREEN. But there's never even one Rachel POV.
We basically stop seeing her after she becomes the virgin Oracle. And that's because that was mostly used as a way to leave the reigns to percabeth. To stop the perachel fans. She was there to create the tension to make Annabeth kiss Percy and create tension just to make her impossible to date to stop that ship.
THALIA GRACE + CLARISSE LA RUE:
im doing them together bcs they both fall into the stereotype of girl boss that has anger problems that never get a dressed in a meaningful way and are good bcs they aren't girly. (This is the main point and bcs it's one that a lot of people agree with if you want to expand on it I'm sure there's good posts here on Tumblr or you can make me an ask if you want but this is alr long af)
Thalia (and Reyna) are also put in the hunters of Artemis bcs it's inconceivable to RR to have a girl single and not make her aroace. She literally made a point to point out that Reyna and Thalia are only friends just to discourage the fans of the ship.
More on this in the books in this post by rosabell14.
More on this socially in this YT video by Tara Mookne.
More on the ace spec in this YT video by Rowan Ellis.
PIPER MCLEAN + APHRODITE:
She's basically the staple of not like other girls. She's constantly compared with the other Aphrodite kids and how she's better bcs she isn't feminine/superficial (bcs they are treated as one). There's a whole problem with making the whole Aphrodite cabin made as superficial only bcs they're kids of the beauty goddess.
Bcs Aphrodite also got reduced here. She's also a war goddess. The love goddess, and not only romantic which was all RR made of her. She's from the sea. She's prideful. Powerful. Vengeful. But that's never touched.
More on the pick me in this YT video by Jaidyn Zehner.
HAZEL LEVESQUE:
Let me tackle her. Because making one of your only black characters the mom friend. A stereotype that black women/girls have had to endure because of racism and white people adultifying them is insane. Her relationship with blackness and her hair never being really adressed, when she lived in the 40s which was under the Jim crow laws. With segregation. With BIWOC having to relax/straighten their hair just to be able to go to places.
She's not a girl boss. But she gets romanticized. She does no wrong. And she also never actually tackles the dichotomy of her past experience with her race and society and her new life in a basically new world for her.
More of this in this post by bayetea.
The fandom's parasocial relationship with Rick Riordan:
To understand my next point we need to talk about this. Most of this fandom calls him Uncle Rick, see him as a beacon of good writing and representation. We as a fandom have created a parasocial relationship with him via his writing. Bcs the POV he makes are relatable. Bcs his —internalized as it seems— racist, sexist, homophobic opinions that are reflected in his writing aren't noticible at first glance and need some level of critical analysis.
But he's not our friend. We don't know him. He's not a perfect person and not a perfect writer by any means. But by creating this parasocial relationship with him —which he intensifies with how he interacts with us, bcs it's a marketing strategy. You can't lose money when your fans idealize you and defend you immensely.— we've entered a point where if anyone criticizes him a lot of people feel like they're attacking him, and as his "friends" we can't let that happen.
We shouldn't do that the same way we know it's bad when it happens with celebrities.
That does not mean we shouldn't respect him as a human being. But we can criticize his writing. What he does for a living of which we are the costumer.
More on parasocial relationships in this YT video by Shanspeare.
The mainstream opinion:
It has become a personal attack. It's not seen as literary analysis and critical thinking. It's reached a point where it's seen as an attack to him —and bcs of the parasocial relationship— an attack to the fans.
It's also important to denote how this part of the fandom has gotten so into their canon idea —which is actually a rethought of canon. But bcs it's been so popularized it's seen as actual canon.— that anyone with other opinions is treated as "stupid". Fandom is to enjoy the media in any way the fans want. We should not be so canon purists, because it has made the fandom toxic to anyone who wanders even a little out of line.
The critics of this misandrist feminism:
Even if it is important to criticize this kind of ideology, it's also important to note that all the characters are victims of such biases. So just hating the female characters of the PJO series because they don't like the character without understanding the origin of this and all characters with much more other controversial characterizations, —Racism, ableism, homophobia, classes, bad understanding of Hellenistic paganism and more.— loses a lot of information that doesn't just make you have more deep and thought out characters but also gives you more understanding of this political/ethical issues.
Anyone want to add their grain of salt in this is more than welcome!! I'm sure I've missed some parts. Especially on the his characterization part, because I had to try to do it as short and concise as possible bcs this is long af.
Day #?? of me reminding everyone that Nico consistently being an outcast among the outcasts (ie demigods; they dont fit in with the rest of mortals) who needs to go to great lengths to carve out his own space among them and eventually finding belonging is a very good albeit unintentional parallel to the asexuals who were excluded from the queer community for a long time and also had to do a lot to finally find acceptance within the community...
Anyways yeah, gay asexual Nico di Angelo for the win.
None of this is on Jason, he didn't write himself. Hands off him. It's 1000% on Rick and the fanbase, but:
People on here acting like Rick's writing of Jason is the personification of allyhood or something. As if he didn't want to leave Nico in a jar to die, suffocating to death. As if he wasn't judging Nico as a creep before the incident. After all that, it's the least he could do. That's the modicum of human decency.
If anything, it just makes everything worse. Somehow, losing an elder sister, his only family (which Jason himself experienced), going through literal hell and horrifying imprisonment wasn't enough to sympathize with Nico. The fact that Nico was a child dealing with harsh circumstances, trauma and mental illness wasn't enough to sympathize with him.
Instead his romantic orientation was used as a sympathy card for him. Like what if Nico wasn't queer? What if the Cupid Scene just happened to be a pedestrian embarrassing moment where it's confirmed that he had a crush on beth? Then what? He's just the Argo 2's fresh gossip?
It's sick actually. And I'm tired of acting like its something I need to commemorate. The queer character's identity being used as the sole thing to gain sympathy for them is not good writing, nor is it progressive.
Never shut up about May Castellan - her character is a cacophony of bad writing, misogyny and ableism.
She's written like the typical "crazy woman next door", serves little to no purpose outside being a plot device - merely an appendage to Luke' story. If that's not enough, after the oracle curse is lifted, no one bothers to check on her. It's outright pathetic how that lady was left to fend for herself all on her own - Dionysus can help cure insanity in a heartbeat as we see, but she's never helped?
It would've been interesting to explore who she was, how Hermes met her, what prompted her to pursue embodying the oracle's spirit etc. but since she serves no purpose outside being a plot device for the male character - Luke, she's forgotten by the characters and the narrative by the end of the og series.
A while ago, I read a very interesting and good post drawing a parallel about how Nico was traumatized by Cupid, the god of love (in myths, he's also the god of lust), and close with Hestia, the goddess of family - representing platonic familial love, (who's also canonically aroace in the Riordanverse)...
*Slides this into my Nico's (unintentional) asexual coding collection*
When I was reading the Battle of the Labyrinth for the first time, I was genuinely taken aback when I read that Kellie was a senior empousa. I thought "Hey, why is that monster portrayed similar to black girls in appearance?" but I just pushed it aside, assuming that I was over-reading. But now that I've developed a lot more media comprehension, there certainly is a very objectionable pattern in the original series with respect to people of color:
Writing Harriet Tubman as a daughter of Hermes was just a big no. Her parents were Harriet "Rit" Green Ross and Benjamin Ross (also known as Ben Ross) - black people who had been enslaved, and later freed. Making her a daughter of Hermes was such a problematic choice on so many levels. It low-key felt like sidelining their stories.
Circling back to Kellie, the empousae are female monsters preying on young men. It's got a lot of connotations considering the fact that black women have often been portrayed with a lot of racial prejudices, a popular one being the 'Jezebel' stereotype where black women were portrayed as hypersexual and even creepy in that sense. It really doesn't help Riordan's case when Kellie is atleast about a thousand years old ("no demigod has bested me in a thousand years" - something like that was what she said once) and implied to be in a relationship with Luke who was about 23 when he died. Then we also have this:
Yikes, Richard.
Ethan Nakamura, one of the few significant PoC characters is a villain.
Charles Beckendorf, the only significant heroic PoC character is killed off.
Hmm. Interesting. Oh, and this man has a degree in history by the way.
Now I'm not saying he's a horribly vile monster, but he has a lot biases which need unpacking.
Riordan's portrayal of the other demigods in the original series was soo unimaginative.
The Ares cabin was mainly a bunch of bullies (with one exception).
The Aphrodite cabin was shallow, had no real purpose aside from focusing on looks (with one half-baked exception).
The Hephaestus cabin is pretty much forgotten, and one of the main things we know about them is that they 'aren't lookers'.
The Hermes cabin is mainly a troop of thieves and tricksters (with one exception, the main villain).
The Hunters of Artemis, while not demigods, also happened to be a bunch of weird man-haters.
See the pattern? It's a lot of blanketing. I think it's a tad weird that in certain cases (like Aphrodite and Ares) the demigods' personalities somehow just take after their godly parents' domains in a decidedly flat way.
Even if Riordan did want to go that way in the original series, there were so many creative ways of doing it?
For instance, Hermes also had associations with the underworld in his form as Hermes psychopompos, so some children from the Hermes cabin could've had such affiliations.
It's also questionable how he flattened most of the Aphrodite kids to "shallow, obsessed with looks, haha they can't fight, romantic love blah blah" when some of her oldest portrayals included "Aphrodite Areia" a cult epithet sometimes attributed to martial interpretation of the goddess where she was portrayed with weapons and armour.
There were so many amazing ways to incorporate the complexities and multidimensionality of Greek deities, but Riordan chose to flatten them.
Riordan's portrayal of the other demigods in the original series was soo unimaginative.
The Ares cabin was mainly a bunch of bullies (with one exception).
The Aphrodite cabin was shallow, had no real purpose aside from focusing on looks (with one half-baked exception).
The Hephaestus cabin is pretty much forgotten, and one of the main things we know about them is that they 'aren't lookers'.
The Hermes cabin is mainly a troop of thieves and tricksters (with one exception, the main villain).
The Hunters of Artemis, while not demigods, also happened to be a bunch of weird man-haters.
See the pattern? It's a lot of blanketing. I think it's a tad weird that in certain cases (like Aphrodite and Ares) the demigods' personalities somehow just take after their godly parents' domains in a decidedly flat way.
Even if Riordan did want to go that way in the original series, there were so many creative ways of doing it?
For instance, Hermes also had associations with the underworld in his form as Hermes psychopompos, so some children from the Hermes cabin could've had such affiliations.
It's also questionable how he flattened most of the Aphrodite kids to "shallow, obsessed with looks, haha they can't fight, romantic love blah blah" when some of her oldest portrayals included "Aphrodite Areia" a cult epithet sometimes attributed to martial interpretation of the goddess where she was portrayed with weapons and armour.
There were so many amazing ways to incorporate the complexities and multidimensionality of Greek deities, but Riordan chose to flatten them.
