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illyrianbitch · 28 days

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One Summer — Part Nine

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, marijuana usage, sweet dirty talk and praise, fingering, oral, p in v, fluffy sex <3

if you’re uncomfortable with smut, this chapter can be skipped with no impact on the plot <3 it can also be read as a stand-alone if desired.

Word Count: 4.7k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist |

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was nine at night and you and Az were the only two in the house.

Rhys had made reservations for him and Feyre at an upscale restaurant half an hour away, a place where his father used to take his mother on special occasions. You'd been nosy and googled it. It was the kind of place with candlelit tables and a string quartet in the corner, where the waitstaff wore tuxedos and addressed you by title.

Mor and Cassian were out, too. The twins they’d met at Summit were staying in some house twenty minutes away and throwing a huge party. They tried to drag you and Az along, but the idea of squeezing into a crowded house with a bunch of strangers didn’t really compare to the night you had in mind. So you and Azriel had politely declined, both secretly craving something more enjoyable—smoking a fat joint and enjoying the quiet, just the two of you.

You sat on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs idly as Az finished preparing your snacks— the main thing that brought you both to the kitchen to begin with. Your mouth was still slightly dry from the joint, that earthy aftertaste still lingering in the back of your throat.

“This isn’t a conspiracy theory because it’s like, an actual thing,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “But I love the fact that so many of those sea monsters we read about were probably just whale penises.”

Azriel stilled, turning to look at you with an amused brow. “What?”

You nodded emphatically, cheeks aching from the deep smile still on your face. “People would see these giant, weird things sticking out of the water and think it was some sort of sea serpent or whatever, but it was actually just a whale showing off it’s huge dick.”

Azriel held your gaze for a moment before he burst out into laughter. The sound dissipated throughout the room and you swore it made it lighter, made the kitchen glow with a sense of life it didn't have a few moments prior. You weren't sure how it was possible, but somehow your smile grew even wider.

There was something about Azriel’s laugh that felt energizing, especially when you were high. It was something far more than just a sensory experience. You watched as he shook his head, the curls on his hair moving as his eyes found yours again. Slightly puffy, bright with amusement.

“I have to show you. It’s crazy.” You moved to grab your phone from its current place face-down on the counter next to you.

Azriel reached out and covered your hand with his. “Nooo.”

“Az, you have to.”

“Later, maybe.” His expression softened as he looked at you, the laughter fading into a tender smile. “But first, taste test time.”

You sat up straighter, looking down at the plate in front of him. “They’re ready?”

You’d had a specific craving—something sweet, gooey, and crunchy. Azriel had taken it upon himself to make your dream come true. He made do with what was in the pantry, melting down marshmallows and making a pan of small home-made rice krispy bars. He’d covered them with Nutella, rolling them up like some delicacy you’d find in a high-end bakery.

His smile widened, and without a word, he held one out for you. You eagerly accepted it, your fingers brushing against his before you brought the treat to your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed, and a moan left your lips as the sweet, rich flavors exploded on your tongue.

“How is it?”

You nodded, head bobbing as you took another gluttonous bite.

“It’s perfect,” you said, finally finding the strength to open your eyes and look at him. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

He chuckled softly, watching as you took another bite. “Yeah?”

You nodded again. “You could be a chef. I would pay you to stay in the kitchen, looking all pretty and making food for me.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “So a trophy chef.”

You grinned. “Exactly.”

He laughed again, bringing his hands to either side of your thighs as he leaned in closer. “What happened to me being a spy, huh?”

You shrugged lightheartedly. “That too. Honestly, Az, you could be anything you wanted.”

He narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing slightly, the corners of his lips still curved in that half-smile that made your heart skip.

“Because I can make little treats?” He asked.

You cocked your head at him, running your gaze over his face. “Because you’re so good at putting yourself to the task at hand.”

Azriel blinked, and the crease between his brows softened. You watched as something crossed through his face, something wistful and warm.

“What?” you asked when he didn't speak.

“Nothing.”

You let your thoughts wander as you finished the treat in your hand. Everyone seemed to have a clear idea of what they wanted— or, at least, an idea of where their ambitions lied. But Azriel was different. He was like you. Hesitant, unsure. Back in freshman year, he’d taken a few criminology classes he loved. He had a passion then, but as the years went by you assumed he’d switched gears, choosing to focus on his general education classes instead. Azriel understood the pressure of fitting into a mold you weren't entirely sure about.

“What do you wanna do, Az?”

Azriel’s face grew thoughtful, his gaze scanning your face as if searching for something. His eyes flickered and then a smile, slow and soft, spread across his lips. He leaned in just a fraction closer. “I want to kiss you.”

You felt a rush of heat and looked down at your lap, nervously brushing your hands together. “That’s not what I meant.”

Azriel lifted your chin with a delicate finger, bringing your gaze to his. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes playfully. “No?”

His gaze flicked to somewhere below your eyes. A second later, he brought his thumb to the corners of your lips, gently wiping away what you knew was probably excess chocolate.You inhaled sharply and felt something deep in your chest – something like a wire strung tight, ready to sing with the slightest touch. You’d been craving him for so long now. You could feel that familiar sensation, that burning desire simmering low in your gut. The way those damn grey sweatpants hung on his hips didn’t help matters either.

His touch lingered on your skin, hovering just above your bottom lip. Before he could pull his hand away, you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking off the remaining chocolate.

Azriel’s breath hitched, lips parting in surprise. The low groan that left his lips next invigorated you, pushing you to bring your tongue around his thumb, swirling and sucking on it. When he met your gaze, you slowly released it, and he traced it along your bottom lip as a shaky breath escaped him.

“We have the house to ourselves."

With darkened eyes, Az ran his thumb along your lips again, swallowing hard. You traced the motion down the column of his throat. Before you could fully register the loss of his touch, his hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You gasped as he positioned himself between your legs, and instinctively, you wrapped them around him.

"Az.."

He closed the gap between you, lips crashing against yours as he kissed you deeply. You weren't sure if you'd ever get used to it. Perhaps it was a very strong honeymoon period, that the way Az kissed you felt magical because it had only been two weeks of this. But you felt starved, felt as if you needed more and more of him to satiate you— yet even still, you were insatiable.

You nipped at his lower lip, moved yourself to press against him further. You let him take the lead, letting out a breathy moan against his lips at the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. His kisses moved from your lips to your neck and you arched into him, welcomed him with a bared throat and a tug to his curls. His touch was everywhere at once—his hands roaming over your back, his lips trailing down your collarbone. Your body sang with every movement, with the feeling of his mouth on your skin.

You could feel the heat of his breath against you as he nipped and kissed his way to your ear.

“Do we want to go upstairs?”

You nodded before words could form. Nodded as you tangled your fingers further into his hair, nodded as you pulled him to your face, bringing him into another kiss. "Yes," you whispered between breaths. “Yes, please."

Azriel’s smile brushed against your skin as he kissed you back.

You made your way up the stairs, every step wobbly and uncoordinated as Az attempted to lead you both, lips still locked, his hands around your waist and yours around his neck.

"Shit." Azriel cursed as he bumped against the well, the pictures frames rattling with the impact. You pulled back, steadying yourself against the wall as your laughter bubbled up.

"Az," you playfully scolded through a breath, "You're going to knock everything down."

He only shushed you with a mischievous smile, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you back into his orbit. Another frame tilted askew as he maneuvered you both along. You pulled away for a moment, your gaze falling to the framed photo in front of you, the one you'd come to love so dearly. It got better every time you saw it, from the pizza in Mor's braces to the nauseatingly sweet frame of awkward fifteen year old Azriel.

"I love this photo," you said, pointing to it with a delicate smile. "Look at you."

Azriel glanced at it, his face scrunching in mock horror. "That’s a horrendous photo," he said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. He broke apart, shaking his head against yours. "Don’t look at it."

"But Az—"

"Don’t look!" He insisted, and you laughed into his kiss.

"I love hearing you laugh," Azriel murmured against your lips, "And that I'm the one causing it." He kissed you again. "But right now," he said, his voice dropping to a low, heated murmur, "I’d much rather be making you moan.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You melted into his touch, feeling your skin set alight as his hands roamed, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that tasted of deep desire, something sweet and smoky like longing. The touch of a lover craving another.

You stumbled together into your room— the nearest one to the stairs, and the door slammed shut behind you. Azriel fumbled with the strings of his waistband, fingers slipping as he struggled to undo the knot.

"Ah, fuck," he said, voice still tinged with that sense of amusement, that laugh still in his tone. A few seconds later, his sweats were halfway down his leg, tangling around his ankles as he tried to kick them off.

"Careful," you warned, trying to stifle your laughter. Azriel then watched, amused, as you struggled to pull off your shirt, the fabric snagging on your earrings. And when you'd managed to free yourself, your hands were on him, slipping under his shirt, curious fingers skimming over the hard planes of his stomach. You tugged the fabric over his head, taking in the grin that played on his lips.

The shirt sailed through the air, landing haphazardly on your bedside lamp. You and Az laughed, a shared sound that he swallowed as he pulled you into another kiss. His hands were on you, guiding you back, and you were both still laughing as you fell back onto your bed in a tangle of limbs, all clothes besides his underwear long removed and thrown in a corner. Azriel leaned over you, face flushed, eyes filled with warmth.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You laughed, biting your lip as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until your noses almost touched. "Hey," you repeated, like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I really like you."

Azriel's voice was soft, a whisper that felt as soulful as a Sunday confession. It caressed your skin, made your heart flutter and core clench.

"Good to know," you said with a dainty smile. "I like you too."

A smile broke out across Az's face and you brought a trailing hand to feel the dimples on his cheeks, tracing the smile lines etched into his skin. You were completely naked below him now. Strangely, you'd never felt this comfortable, never felt so at ease. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal of the chain necklace hanging around his neck. You played with it absentmindedly, feeling the smooth links sliding between your fingers.

You tugged at it lightly as you murmured, "And I also like this."

"Yeah?"

You nodded, still running your fingers along the chain, feeling the heat of his skin just beneath it. You weren't sure how it was possible for a piece of jewelry to be so attractive, for simple metal to make you picture the dirtiest of images. But it was. And you had been. You weren't ashamed to admit that you'd imagined how it would feel dangling in your face as Az pounded into you. You finally met his eyes and nodded, breathless despite having done nothing but trace the cool metal around his neck. "Yeah."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, the playful warmth in them shifting into something deeper, hungrier. His smile curved into a smirk. "Good," he rasped, and your breath hitched at the intensity in his voice.

His lips were on yours again. Gone was the soft, teasing rhythm from before. Now, his mouth was hot and demanding, as if he were starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. The sudden switch from sweet to searing made your heart race. You tugged on the chain again, more forcefully this time, and he growled in response, fingers eagerly tracing the outline of your body. You shivered with each touch, with each drag of his hands across your skin.

His hand found your breast, exposed to the cool air, and you shuddered as his ridged fingers tweaked your nipple. You arched beneath him and he paused for a moment, lips hovering just above yours.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispered.

Your mind raced, the words catching in your throat as you tried to form a coherent thought. You wanted him everywhere, wanted him to explore you for hours, to ruin you for the touch of anyone else. You shook your head, breathing heavily, trying with all your might to summon an answer.

"I-I don't know."

He shook his head, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in invitation. He said something else, something quieter and alluring, a sentence probing you to answer, to think.

"Please just touch me," you managed to breathe as your gaze bounced between his eyes. "I just want you to touch me."

Azriel's lips curved into a satisfied smile. “Like this?” he asked, beginning to move down as his hand slid down your exposed stomach.

“Yes,” you said, your body reacting to his touch. “And kiss me."

"Kiss you where?"

He was beneath your navel now, the trail of his path wet with the open kisses he'd left. You took a shaky breath. "Everywhere."

He chuckled softly against the bare skin of your leg. “Everywhere, huh?”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express how much you wanted him. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers threading through the dark curls as he continued to explore. He leaned, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the very top of your thigh, just shy of where you needed him, where your body ached for him. But just as you thought he might give you what you were silently begging for, he pulled back. His lips began a slow journey upward, leaving you yearning, the frustration building with each inch he traveled.

He paused just above your mouth, sharing a breath as he looked down at you. "I've thought about this for so long," he murmured, "How I wanted to touch you first, the ways I wanted you to fall apart."

You released a sound in response, needy and pleading. You’d spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to be with Azriel, to see the side of him he reserved for only a few. You’d wondered how his touch might feel—gentle, reverent, like a lover tracing sacred ground. You'd thought of him worshiping your body like a saint, his hands gliding over your bare skin, fantasized about the way his fingers might curl inside you, delicate yet purposeful, stroking the most intimate parts of you until you unraveled beneath him.

“I want to hear all those pretty noises I know you can make,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Can you do that for me?”

But you hadn’t imagined this. You hadn’t expected him to be so talkative, to render you speechless with a single look. The hunger in his eyes made you feel divine, as though he was starving for you, for the taste of you, for the sound of your voice.

You nodded. It was all you could do— barely able to breathe, let alone speak. He smiled like the sun and kissed you again, one hand curving along your shoulder, sliding down your body with painful slowness, a detour around the curve of your breast, a whimper into his mouth.

It felt like hours before his palm slid down the rise of your belly, torturous and tentative. Then finally, his hand slipped between your thighs. He traced the slickness of your core and you gasped in relief, felt as he greedily accepted the sound with his tongue.

There was something profoundly intimate about the way Azriel's eyes locked with yours as he worked his fingers inside you, something about how your foreheads rested against each other as he groaned. Az was watching you, observing every reaction to the movements he made. He kissed you throughout it, rotating between staring at you, molding your lips to his, and sucking on that sensitive area of your ear lobe; kissing alongside your neck as he praised you.

"Such a pretty mess," he murmured against your ear. "Does this feel good?"

He added another finger, thumb circling your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut, a desperate moan escaping your lips as the pleasure mounted. Then he was moving, pulling away from you as he descended down your body, following the trail of kisses and marks he'd left before. Azriel shifted his body, positioning himself right before your core, pushing your legs further apart to nestle between them. Your gaze fell to his hands, slick and glistening with your desire. For a moment he stilled, focused gaze as he watched his fingers disappear inside you.

And when he pulled them out, he spread the wetness further across your folds, eyes locked on yours, pupils blown with need. He was saying your name, praising you, watching as you squirmed at his touch.

"Azriel." You moaned out.

"Yeah, beautiful?"

You couldn't respond, weren't sure what you wanted to say.

“Jesus. Look at you,” he said, his voice a low growl. “So fucking pretty. Your body is perfect.”

You were torn between begging him to keep talking, to speak more and let his words roll over you, and begging him to touch you more, to feel him inside you, to fuck you.

With his eyes still locked on yours, he brought his mouth to your cunt, groaning in approval the moment he drew your essence into his mouth. His fingers slipped back inside you, finding a deep, aching spot, and your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Each tug on his hair elicited a low, approving groan from him, and you stored that information away, tucked it safely for a later time.

Your eyes fell shut as you neared the edge, body tensing with the imminent release. No, your mind echoed. Not yet. You let out a ragged breath, pulling at the curls on Az's head and pushing him away from your cunt. Azriel immediately loosened his hold on you, eyes shooting up to yours, brows furrowing with a growing concern.

“Not yet,” you managed, your voice breathy and urgent. “With you. On you. Please.”

The crease softened and his eyes grew dark again, hungry and blown wide. He grinned, hair tousled, lips glistening and swollen, and nodded in understanding. Az rid himself of the last piece of clothing he had, shedding his underwear as you drank in the sight of him before you. His naked form pressed against yours as he lay over you. You reached between you, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly, tentatively. His answering groans were low and guttural, brows furrowing with each movement of your hand.

“Do you have—?”

He nodded toward your bedside table. “You should. Rhys’s mom was very serious about safe sex.”

His voice was rough like gravel, octaves below what he normally spoke. If you weren't already drenched by now, you would've been pooling at the sound alone. You let out a breathless laugh and Azriel managed to lean over to your left drawer— the one you’d never really used, never even bothered to check what might be in it. His fingers fumbled briefly before he pulled out a small foil packet. He ripped it open with still glistening hands, and you took it from him, rolling it over his length with careful precision. Pumping him once, twice. Savoring the sinful sounds leaving his lips.

He was bigger than you had anticipated and your mouth watered at the sight, at the fact that beyond just its size, it was pretty. You'd get your mouth on it soon, you told yourself, taste him just as he tasted you. You'd wrap your lips around his head, let him fuck your mouth the way he wanted, and taste his release with a greedy tongue. But not now.

Az maneuvered himself, a forearm near your head to hold himself as his other hand went in between you, replacing your hand with his own. You ran your freed palm along his chest, bringing it up to his shoulders.

"Are you sure?" Az asked, eyes focused on you.

You almost laughed at the question, a smile forming on your face as you nodded. "For the love of god, please," you said, and you were sure it was the hundredth time you'd muttered the word. "I want you. I-I need you."

Az’s growl reverberated through you, a primal sound you’d never heard from him before. It sent waves of need crashing over your body. Your legs instinctively locked around his back, drawing him in as his cock pressed firmly inside you, an intense surge of pleasure that made you both gasp for air. You clenched around him, welcoming him and the stretch he provided, the sensation of him as he rolled his hips, as he bottomed out with another sinful groan. Azriel kissed you again and again as he moved, as he picked up the pace and you clawed at his back— nails digging into the ink that adorned his golden skin.

His mouth explored every inch of you—your nipples, your throat, your ear—before he covered your mouth to muffle your moans once more. You dug your heels into his back, fingers tangled in his hair as he pressed you firmly into the mattress with the snap of his hips. You were lost in the rising waves of sensation—his quick, sharp thrusts, the heat and sweat of your bodies moving together.

Faintly, you heard a soft whining, a mewl of pleasure. You realized, seconds later, it had come from your own throat; desperate and babbling, repeating Az's name like a prayer. He was everything now, every thought in your mind, filling every sense, his hands, his tongue, his cock.

You were so close, on the edge of something monumental, ready to fall and fall and fall. Azriel must have seen the desperation in your eyes as he started whispering in your ear, murmuring things that you knew would later make you blush and squirm, turn red and pink and every color between.

“Holy shit, yes,” he growled, “You feel incredible, Y/n.”

You clung to him, your breath mingling with his, praying that, somehow, through this shared rhythm, you could bind him to you forever. That this moment would make him truly yours, beyond just the physical, blending every part of him with every part of you.

"Talk to me, beautiful." He nipped at your bottom lip. "Does it feel good?"

"Yes, god, yes." You moaned and pulled him closer to you. As you separated from another hungry kiss, you reveled in the way his chain dangled over your face, in the way it swung as he fucked you. It was even better than you imagined, even hotter in every way. You clenched around him, shivered at the sound he made.

He looked beautiful. Face flushed and glistening with sweat, tousled hair falling into his eyes as he gazed at you with a look of pure adoration, a look you felt too soft to be reserved for you. It was a look meant for those that did great, praise-worthy things, a look for a lover and a soulmate. You stared at him, breathing heavily, taking in all that he was, and he looked at you back, took you in just as carefully. Then he smiled, reaching up and gripping your hands in his. He pressed gentle kisses along your cheeks and entwined your fingers with his, held them above your head.

"I'm so close,” you murmured, “So close.”

Azriel's eyes darkened. He brought his bottom lip between his teeth and his cock surged into you with such force that the bed groaned beneath you. You gasped, body going slack as he drove into you with relentless speed, each thrust so intense that you were left completely immobilized. His movements grew uneven, body trembling as he strained to hold back, his fingers pressing deeply into yours.

“Azriel.” His name was all you had. “Az. Az.”

He was buried deep inside you, trembling with the force of his release. “Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed heavily. "Come with me, baby."

You clenched at the name, at the way his words caressed your skin. Azriel cried out against your shoulder, his moan wavering like he was descending from a high. You felt his entire body shudder and you pressed kisses to his ear, cheek, and neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, maybe a little too roughly, but he only whimpered and slumped against you, his full weight pressing you into the bed.

He took deep breaths and you laughed as he blew your hair out of his face. A few moments later you loosened your hold on him, bodies reluctantly untangled, condom disposed, and you both shifted onto your sides. You leaned in to kiss him. His response was tender and unhurried, his lips moving against yours with a reverent slowness. His hands roamed over your back, your hip, and the curve of your ass.

Long after you cleaned up, as you laid against Az's bare chest and he played with your hair, that feeling of falling was still there, something exciting and equally terrifying. It filled your stomach, flowed through your veins.

You looked at Az, took in his contented smile, his eyes closed and peaceful as he held you, and you wondered if you truly knew what love felt like, wondered when it was too soon to decide you could never let someone go.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: your honor i do believe theyre falling in love. i also, do believe, that they boutta be fuckin like rabbits

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

As always, thank you for reading 🫶🏻

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the-newlymadeweeb · 9 months

Text

I Gotcha.

Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

Description: three times you promised Luke that you got him. The two times he struggled to believe and finally when he did.

A/N: the gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

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The days spent at camp immediately after his failed quest were arguably the worst of Luke's entire life.

He had to drag himself back home with a burnt chunk of an apple, a dragon tooth and half his face destroyed.

You had nursed him back to health. Spending three days straight in the infirmary. The solo quest was a bad idea and you had known it. Luke had gone alone in some sort of attempt to prove himself, seeking glory but now this entire thing had backfired and you couldn't help but worry.

When he awoke he had stared in mute horror at the mirror you held up to his face.

"I tried to minimise the scarring as much as I could, Luke. I couldn't remove it entirely but with the correct balm and scar creams it'll fade," you had explained.

Luke knew you were the best the camp infirmary had but he couldn't explain the rage that boiled within him. This fruitless quest, with its dumb replication to Heracles' and his quest all for the sake of earning his father's attention had permanently marred him.

Physical proof of his father's neglect right there for everyone to witness.

And he would have to carry this stupid scar for the rest of his life.

"Luke?"

His gaze snapped to meet yours, softening slightly, as you placed the mirror facedown on his bedside table.

"Yeah?"

He didn't want to see sympathy in your eyes, no doubt too many campers will be looking upon him like he was a pitiful kicked dog, nor did he want to see disappointment; he wasn't quite sure how he'd stomach that.

But your face held neither of those emotions, instead a strong conviction resided in the lines of your face, lines that you were too young to have, that marked the effects of stress no adolescent should feel.

"I'm gonna take care of you Luke, okay?" You reached out and cupped his uninjured cheek, "I gotcha. I always gotcha."

And wasn't that something.

He reached out cupping your face in his hands, this was his whole world.

"Okay baby; yeah, please."

****************************

Luke had miscalculated. He'd failed to retain the master bolt and the helm of darkness.

Now, he was being punished. Severely. And he hated it but he deserved it. He'd let Kronos down, he needed to learn his lesson so he never makes the same mistake.

The nightmares cut too much into reality though sometimes. His entire body lit aflame but it always got so much worse when he was forced to face a scenario where he had to cut you up so that your pieces would replace the Titan.

He never failed this test, but it always took the most out of him. Even if you always understood his anger, he wasn't sure you'd understand his methods; and at the crack of every dawn, he'd escape his cabin and run to the lake where he knew you'd always be. Like clockwork, watching the sun rise.

This time his skin buzzed with the phantom recollection of his nightmares, he had to scrub at his eyes to clear his vision a few times, mistaking the blood on his hands to be real in his fatigued state.

You sat on the deck, eyes fixed on the changing colours of the sky. He could hear your voice humming a soft nameless tune. This was your ritual, your futile attempts at interactions with your father as he burst across the heavenly dome on his sun chariot.

Nonetheless, Luke always enjoyed the sound of your voice. He'd appreciate it if Apollo never would.

You'd sense his presence as you always did in the early hours and you'd beckon him towards you.

Sitting by your side felt right, amidst all the tension he'd been under. The weight of all his plans. Your song was familiar, the heat and strength of your figure a comfort.

"Nightmares again?" You asked, knowing the answer regardless.

He'd nod.

There were a few truths he was allowed to tell you. Sometimes if he said it with enough of himself, he could fool himself to believe that all you knew weren't mainly lies.

"Come here."

And you'd guide his head to you lap, gentle– loving, like the first rays of the sun. You would card your fingers through his curls, and every now and then lightly ghost your fingertips over the scar on his face.

On occasion, Luke would dream that you were healing him, erasing his scars, erasing his pains.

"I gotcha Luke," you'd murmur, "I always gotcha."

Some mornings he'd fall into a dreamless sleep.

************************

"I gotcha baby," oh he's missed that voice, "I always gotcha, Luke." It's been too long. Days, weeks, months. Years.

You were crying.

Percy and Annabeth were crying too but–

You're crying.

Don't cry.

He's really tired, and it's getting difficult to take a breath. He figures this is the feeling of death and he's trying to not be afraid.

You reach for him, and he forces himself to open his eyes and look at you.

It's not so bad. Your face has always been what he'd like to see last. It's just–

There's so much to say. So many things he has to tell you, to apologise for, to confess, to love and there's no time.

You're so beautiful.

Even covered in soot and monster dust and blood.

Your hands cup his face, fingers instinctively brushing his brows and scar. You keep mumbling small comforts, little assurances. But you don't promise life, because that wouldn't be true and while Luke has been a deceitful liar, you have never been one yourself and you won't lie to him even now.

But you promise that you got him. And he believes you.

"I know baby," He huffs and tries to say, "but now...it's time– time to let me go."

It's a struggle. His vision is blurry, he's really tired.

So he focuses on the feel of you instead, letting his eyes close. This is just like falling asleep.

*****************************************************************************

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fic rec #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #luke castellan #annabeth chase #lc

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gester-tester · 1 year

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hardikseo · 2 years

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one-flower-one-sword · 6 days

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There's a thing I've noticed that repeatedly crops up in the (English) fandom portrayal of hualian's relationship, where Xie Lian is shown as dismayed and put off by Hua Cheng's attitude towards other characters, oftentimes openly criticizing him and wanting him to "do better", to be more polite and/or to be more openly caring towards others. I found this at first perplexing and then increasingly upsetting, but I've debated for a long time if and how to post about it, because I don't want this to come across as a kind of call-out post or veiled personal attack.

So I hope people take this post as a genuine exploration of canon vs fanon hualian, and understand that I think it's something worth exploring because I feel that this particular fanon portrayal creates a problem in hualian's relationship that simply doesn't exist in canon - more than that even, it makes a problem out of one of the core strengths of their relationship.

I've mostly noticed this kind of portrayal pop up when it comes to the way Hua Cheng interacts with Mu Qing and Feng Xin, the Ghost City citizens, and Shi Qingxuan. I'll therefore focus on how Xie Lian reacts in these instances - since that's really the crux of the matter, that in fanon Xie Lian reacts negatively towards Hua Cheng in these instances - though I'll also use scenes with other characters when they become relevant.

This is when Hua Cheng, still in his San Lang disguise and knowing full well who "Fu Yao" and "Nan Feng" are, pointedly asks Xie Lian if they're his servants and throws a broom to Mu Qing to rile him up:

"Calm down. Calm down. I only have one broom -"

Before Xie Lian could finish his words, he was cut off by a burst of white energy that shot out from Fu Yao's hand as he bellowed, "Reveal yourself!!"

San Lang stayed where he was, arms still crossed in a relaxed posture, but he tilted his head just slightly as the beam of energy narrowly missed him and smashed one of the altar table's legs. The table collapsed with a loud crack and all the plates crashed onto the floor in a heap. Xie Lian rubbed his temple and thought this had to stop. With a wave of his hand, he released Ruoye and bound Nan Feng and Fu Yao's arms. Both men struggled but failed to break free.

"What are you doing?!" Nan Feng shouted. Xie Lian made a gesture for a time-out. "We'll talk outside. Outside." Then he waved his hand and Ruoye flew out, dragging the two in tow.

"I'll be right back," Xie Lian said to San Lang, then closed the door behind him.

Vol 1, page 216

Xie Lian does react exasperated and annoyed - but with Mu Qing and Feng Xin's attitude, not with Hua Cheng's. Keep in mind that he's already suspecting by this point that Hua Cheng is a Supreme, but he reprimands them for attacking "San Lang" just because they think he's odd:

"Nan Feng, that's where you're wrong. There are all kinds of people with various temperaments and mannerisms in the world; odd doesn't mean dangerous. [...]"

Vol 1, page 217

And impresses upon them repeatedly to be nice to "San Lang" and treat him well, then goes on to apologize to him for their rude behavior:

Nan Feng said in a low voice, "No. We still have to think of a way to test if he's a Supreme."

Xie Lian rubbed his forehead. "Go ahead and try, but don't go overboard. What if he really does turn out to be a runaway young noble? I get along pretty well with this kid, so be nice. Don't bully him."

The "don't bully him" made Nan Feng screw up his face, and Fu Yao's eyes rolled to the back of his head. Xie Lian nagged a bit more before reopening the door. San Lang was checking out the broken table leg, and Xie Lian cleared his throat to get his attention.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm alright," San Lang smiled. "Just checking to see if we can fix this table leg."

"Everything just now was a misunderstanding, please don't mind them," Xie Lian said warmly.

Vol 1, page 218

And it's not just that he defends "San Lang" from Mu Qing and Feng Xin's animosity and judgement - Xie Lian enjoys Hua Cheng's sharp wit and the way he wields it like a sword:

Fua Yao smiled without mirth. "This young master sure knows a lot."

San Lang smiled back. "It's nothing. You just don't know very much, that's all."

"..."

Xie Lian smiled in spite of himself, amused by San Lang’s sharp tongue.

Vol 1, page 221

This pattern continues throughout the entire novel so there are several other examples, but there's another scene I want to draw attention to. This is when they're at Mount Tonglu and Mu Qing is trying to mess with the statues despite being warned against it by Hua Cheng:

"I'm only trying to touch the stone now, not remove the veil. Why is Crimson Rain Sought Flower stopping me again?" Mu Qing questioned.

Hua Cheng shot him a fake-looking smile. "I'm preventing you from causing problems."

Xie Lian put himself between the two. "Stop, stop. It's not like we have to see which god is being worshipped here. We shouldn't stay here too long anyway, so let's just go. Don't forget that we still have a mission to accomplish."

Hua Cheng stared at Mu Qing's hand. "Since that's what gege wants, have him put his hand away and I'll let it go."

"Mu Qing, back off, all right?" Xie Lian said.

Mu Qing glared at him. "Are you nuts? Why shouldn't he back off first? What if I back off and he doesn't?"

Between a heavenly official and a ghost, Feng Xin naturally chose to stand on the side of the heavenly official. "At most, we'll accept both sides standing down at the same time."

Hua Cheng showed no signs of doing so. "You wish."

Seeing that neither side would give in, Xie Lian rested a hand on Mu Qing's arm. "Mu Qing, drop it," he urged gently. "You're the one who started this, so you should be the one to let it go. All right? Can you think of it as giving me some face? I swear that if you back off, San Lang will keep his promise."

Although Mu Qing was clearly reluctant, he held the stalemate for another moment, then slowly dropped his hand. They all returned to the road. Finally, the tension relaxed, and Xie Lian sighed in relief.

Vol 6, page 44-45

And then when Hua Cheng picks the path for them at the next fork in the road:

Feng Xin frowned. "How can you pick randomly? Let's not go blindly - we might tumble into another pit."

Hua Cheng smiled. "Even if we fall into a pit, I have ways to pull His Highness out. You can follow us if you'd like, or you can head off on your own if you'd prefer. To be honest, I'd rather not have to rescue you again."

"You-!"

That was just the way Hua Cheng spoke - even if he had a smile on his face and his words were perfectly polite, it always sounded fake. The faker his smile, the more his tone enraged people, so much that Feng Xin nooked an arrow on his bow.

Xie Lian knew that he wouldn't actually shoot. "Sorry about this, Feng Xin. But considering our current situation, it really makes no difference which way we go."

Hua Cheng laughed heartily. "Ooh, I'm scared. Looks like I'd better stay far away from you." He waggled his brows at Xie Lian and really did put some distance between them. Xie Lian knew he was just trying to leave the other two behind, and he smiled as he shook his head.

Vol 6, page 45-46

Several things can be gleaned from this. First of, this is happening before Xie Lian finds out who Hua Cheng really is and what the deal with the statues is. He doesn't know why Hua Cheng doesn't want them unveiled, but he still trusts his decision and his judgment over Mu Qing and Feng Xin's, and it's Mu Qing he asks to stand down, not Hua Cheng. Now you might be saying, well Mu Qing and Feng Xin were right about Hua Cheng being a Supreme Ghost King and they were right to be suspicious about the statues. But there's a second insight to be gained from this scene - Feng Xin doesn't side with Mu Qing because he thinks he's in the right, be sides with him because Mu Qing is a god and Hua Cheng is a ghost. Their animosity and constant suspicion towards Hua Cheng is based on what Hua Cheng is, based on prejudice. And Xie Lian knows this.

Lastly, Xie Lian's reaction in the above quote is, again, to back Hua Cheng up and then be amused by the way Hua Cheng pushes back against Mu Qing and Feng Xin's antagonistic behavior.

This continues all the way up to the end of the novel:

The group of heavenly officials didn't look like they wanted to sit; they probably had only stopped by to congratulate him and quickly show their faces. After delivering their gifts, they left in a hurry.

Xie Lian turned to Mu Qing. "Why did they leave in such a rush?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Mu Qing said.

"Well, yeah."

"Then why don't you ask your dear San Lang?" Mu Qing spat crankily.

When Hua Cheng came back, the first one to know was Xie Lian. Second to know were the gods of the Upper Court, who hadn't even warmed their seats yet in the new Heavenly Capital. On the day of the Shangyuan festival, they had worked so hard to put together a Battle of the Lanterns...which was abruptly obliterated by Hua Cheng's casual wave of three thousand lanterns, the same move he'd pulled at the Mid-Autumn Banquet. In addition, the heavenly bell had been tolling nonstop ever since that night. The entire Upper Court echoed with its ceaseless reverberating gongs, as if it were reminding them that the Nightmare of the Heavens had returned!

And right now, the Nightmare stood before them; no normal heavenly official would dare approach. However, they still wanted to get in Xie Lian's good graces so they could beg Hua Cheng to show them some mercy in the future. After all, the gossip about the relationship between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian in the Upper Court was already fairly lurid with no need for exaggeration.

When he heard about this, Xie Lian recalled how Hua Cheng had demanded the Upper Court proclaim his heroism for an entire year. "Cheeky," he said with a laugh.

Vol 8, page 153

Again, Xie Lian is openly amused at the way Hua Cheng keeps the other gods on their toes and deliberately annoys them. Mu Qing complains about Hua Cheng's behavior and Xie Lian's reaction is that actually he thinks it's funny and cute. I could not find a single instance where Xie Lian takes Mu Qing and/or Feng Xin's side over Hua Cheng's, much less demands Hua Cheng treat them differently or apologize to them. It is consistently the other way around. (With good reason too, but if I get into that this already lengthy meta will get even longer and stray off topic).

The situation with Shi Qingxuan is similar. I've repeatedly seen people portray it as though Xie Lian should be angry with Hua Cheng over his involvement with He Xuan and demand he betray him and help Shi Qingxuan instead. But when whe look at canon:

"It's too late," Xie Lian muttered. He shut down the communication array and whirled around. "San Lang."

Hua Cheng seemed like he'd already anticipated his question. His hands were clasped behind his back as he gazed at him in solemn silence.

"Did the two of you reach some kind of agreement a long time ago?" Xie Lian asked. Hua Cheng didn't immediately respond. Just as he began to move his lips, Xie Lian quickly reassured him of his intent. "No, no, no, don't tell me! You don't have to answer. If you had a prior arrangement with someone, don't go back on your word on my account. I wouldn't want that. It's my fault for asking so suddenly; I didn't mean to put you in a difficult position."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Hua Cheng murmured.

Xie Lian shook his head. "Don't apologize. I should’ve thought of this before. That arrangement must have prevented you from interfering, and from directly telling me the truth."

Hua Cheng had tried to talk him out of it, but he hadn't interfered with Xie Lian's wishes. He accompanied and protected him the whole way, with an escape plan already prepared - except at every turn, something always came up that dragged Xie Lian deeper into the affair. "I should be thanking you," Xie Lian said.

Vol 4, page 215-216

The same way Hua Cheng respected Xie Lian's autonomy and choices, Xie Lian respects his. And not in a bitterly resigned way either - there is no evidence of Xie Lian feeling any kind of resentment towards or moral superiority over Hua Cheng for the latter's agreement with He Xuan. In fact, he apologizes once he realizes that he puts Hua Cheng in a difficult spot by asking about it and also thanks him for both letting Xie Lian make his own choices in this complicated situation and also making sure he wouldn't get hurt by involving himself. And this doesn't only happen once but two more times at least:

Was Shi Qingxuan dead? Did Black Water Demon Xuan reinforce his barrier? No matter the reason, he couldn't return to Shi Qingxuan's body. Even if he rushed to the South Sea that very moment, he'd almost certainly be too late.

Seeing how disconcerted Xie Lian was by this development, Hua Cheng said, "Your Highness, I'm sorry."

Xie Lian looked at him.

"But outsiders shouldn't interfere in this affair," Hua Cheng added.

Xie Lian waved dismissively. "...You don't need to apologize. Honestly, I wouldn't be able to do much even if I were there."

Vol 4, page 254

Hua Cheng flashed a brief smile. Then he said, "I thought gege would blame me."

Xie Lian shook his head. "San Lang doesn't need to overthink things. I really don't blame you. In fact, you were right about this whole thing. Outsiders really...can't possibly interfere."

Vol 4, page 260

Hua Cheng feared Xie Lian would blame him for his involvement but chose to do what he could to both respect Xie Lian's autonomy and protect him while going along with what Xie Lian chose to do. Xie Lian recognizes this and is grateful for it, and now that he knows how complicated the whole situation really is he also understands where Hua Cheng was coming from with cautioning Xie Lian against involving himself. It would make no sense for Xie Lian to be angry with Hua Cheng or even demand him to interfere because he understands that Hua Cheng's stance and his choices come from a place of wisdom and of respect and protectiveness in regards to Xie Lian himself.

He also defends Hua Cheng when Pei Ming demands Xie Lian leverage his relationship with Hua Cheng against the latter to make him assist in finding Shi Qingxuan because he knows how unfair that would be towards Hua Cheng, aside from the fact that it wouldn't be that simple anyway because of how complicated the situation is:

"Your Highness, why not talk to that Crimson Rain Sought Flower of yours, instead of waiting around while the Palace of Ling Wen drags their feet like an old ox pulling a broken cart?" Pei Ming asked. "Can't you have him ask that mad ghost Black Water where he's taken Qingxuan? He already took Water Master-xiong's head - what more does he want?"

Xie Lian shook his head. "General Pei, please don't assume such things are doable," he replied helplessly. "Does one Supreme Ghost King need to keep the other informed on whatever he wants to do?"

With that, Pei Ming didn't say anything more.

Vol 4, page 265

Lastly, there's Ghost City and the way Hua Cheng runs it and treats its citizens and his subordinates. I've often come across Xia Lian being portrayed as though he wants Hua Cheng to change things, for example the way he runs the Gambler's Den, based on how Xie Lian expressed concern over it when he visits it the first time. I've already touched on this in more depth in a different post so I won't go into great detail again here, but when we look at what Xie Lian thinks and says, it becomes clear what he's actually concerned about:

After some hesitation, Xie Lian spoke up again. "San Lang, it may be out of line for me, but I still have to say it. That Gambler's Den of yours is incredibly dangerous. Won't it blow up in your face one day?"

A place that allowed the betting of sons and daughters and people's lives, granting wishes for others' sudden death - it was dreadfully sinful. Never mind a little brawl; if one day the bets got out of hand, the Heavenly Realm wouldn't be able to stay on the sidelines.

Vol 2, page 107

Xie Lian's worry about the Den is motivated by his worry about Hua Cheng, about his fears that something might happen to him if the Heavens aka Jun Wu decide to actively interfere. Xie Lian knows that Hua Cheng is already on Jun Wu's radar in regards to the Ascending Fire Dragon spell having come from an area near Ghost City, and though he still trusts Jun Wu he knows firsthand how terrifying Jun Wu can be in a battle.

I've also sometimes seen Xie Lian portrayed as wanting Hua Cheng to change the way he speaks to Ghost City's inhabitants. However, this is what happens when Lan Chang sets fire to Paradise Manor as a diversion for stealing the fetus spirit and the citizens put out the fire:

They hurried back to Paradise Manor, and on the way, the main street was laden with smoke and jammed with little ghosts and monsters frantically running back and forth with buckets of water. When they saw Hua Cheng and Xie Lian approach, they all called out. "Chengzhu! Don'tcha worry yer ol' lordship, the fire ain't big, it's already out!"

Hua Cheng gave no reaction, but Xie Lian let out a breath of relief. "Thank goodness! Thank you, everyone, for your hard work," Xie Lian gently praised them.

The little ghosts hadn't expected any kind of gratitude at all - not to mention that the "thanks for your hard work" came from Chengzhu's friend! They became quite excited indeed.

"Not hard! It's nothin' major!"

"It's our duty!"

Only then did Xie Lian realize that this show of gratitude was rather inappropriate, as he wasn't the master of the establishment. However, since Hua Cheng didn't say anything, it probably wasn't too horrible that Xie Lian took initiative to do so. He briefly reprimanded himself mentally, then stopped worrying about it.

Vol 3, pages 334-335

Xie Lian doesn't praise and thank the ghosts because he thinks Hua Cheng should do it, he does it because that's simply in his nature. And then he worries about it being impolite because he's not chengzhu and feels it's not really his place. He deeply respects Hua Cheng's authority over his own territory and also understands that Hua Cheng simply isn't the kind of person to talk this way and that there's nothing wrong with it. It's also important to keep another thing in mind that I've mentioned in other metas, that Hua Cheng's care and sense of justice show through his actions, and that because he doesn't speak of them, we most of the time only learn of them through other characters:

Xie Lian said to Hua Cheng, "I will make a trip to the Upper Court this instant and report this case."

While Lan Chang protested, she knew she couldn't stop him. After snapping out of her shock, she suddenly knelt down and prostrated before Hua Cheng. "Chengzhu, thank you for your kindness and grace in sheltering me!"

Vol 3, page 347

I've seen something similar also crop up in regards to Yin Yu. I've already written an in-depth meta analyzing Hua Cheng and Yin Yu's relationship and how I feel it's often mischaracterized in fanon as Yin Yu being exploited by him when it's actually the Heavens who treated Yin Yu that way. So I'm not going to go over all of that again here, but I couldn't find a single instance in canon where Xie Lian ever expresses the need to praise Yin Yu on Hua Cheng’s behalf or anything of the sort. When Xie Lian meets him properly for the first time without his Waning Moon mask and sees Yin Yu work and take orders, this is his reaction:

Xie Lian noticed that Yin Yu had included him in the question, which confused him. "You don't need to ask me," he replied gently.

"It's all the same," Hua Cheng said. "What does gege think?"

Xie Lian thought it over. "Since we were almost out of the valley by the time the mountain spirits came crushing in, fifteen kilometers should be far enough. The air underground isn't sufficient; if we stay down here, we might get dizzy. Let's start digging upward."

"Yes, sir!" Yin Yu acknowledged. He instantly changed directions, digging upward at a slant and even erecting beautiful mud stairs as he went.

The man really is an outstanding assistant. Quick and efficient, and he speaks exactly as much as necessary, Xie Lian remarked to himself. Vol 5, page 236

Xie Lian is surprised to be included when Yin Yu asks for orders since he's Hua Cheng's assistant and Xie Lian again respects Hua Cheng's authority. He also remarks upon Yin Yu's efficiency and overall excellent manner as an assistant, but at no point in the future does he express concern or criticism that this isn't valued or praised enough by Hua Cheng.

So, to sum up: While in fanon, Xie Lian takes issue with Hua Cheng's attitude in general and in regards to these characters/situations in particular, in canon it's the complete opposite. He respects Hua Cheng as a person and a Ghost King, reprimands other characters when they mistreat him, and is amused instead of put off by his sharp wit and the way he keeps the other gods on their toes.

And again I want to stress that me pointing this out isn't meant in a "and that's why you shouldn't write x thing" kind of way or anything like that. I'm merely expressing dismay that I find these fanon portrayals to undermine the very core of what makes Xie Lian and Hua Cheng's relationship so healthy and loving: their mutual respect for each other's autonomy and choices, and the fact that they love each other for who they are, not who they think the other should be by any given standard. Hua Cheng puts it like this: "But only His Highness can decide what he wants to do. I will never oppose his decisions" (Vol 8, page 45) and as this analysis has hopefully shown, the same goes for Xie Lian.

Lastly, I think it's also important to remember what a big theme kindness plays in the novel, especially choosing kindness over prejudice. Hua Cheng falls for Xie Lian because Xie Lian chooses to treat him kindly instead of abusing him out of prejudice about his appearance, and then Xie Lian falls for him because Hua Cheng chooses to treat him kindly no matter what state Xie Lian is in. This should be kept in mind so we don't replace this genuine kindness with a superficial "being nice and polite" attitude and don't confuse genuine righteousness with "acting the way others think we should act."

#tgcf #rereading tgcf #hualian #canon vs fanon #I've started this meta months ago but life got in the way #i hope it still turned out coherent

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transform4u · 24 days

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I’ve been wanting to get in shape so I’ve subscribed to this fitness podcast service called “Straight 2 Fit” to listen to while I’m at the gym - I’d never heard of it before but it’s got pretty great reviews so I’m hoping I’ll see a change fairly soon!

You hit play on the “Straight 2 Fit” podcast, the host’s booming voice instantly assaulting your ears. The intro jingle is a grating, over-the-top anthem of protein shakes and gym grunts, but you can’t deny the thrill of it. As you start your usual workout, you look down at your body, your pale twig arms straining under the ten-pound weights. You glance around, feeling like a flailing fish in a sea of bulging muscles and tight tank tops. The hunky men around you, in their fit tanks and booty shorts, seem like they're in a different league.

After a particularly grueling rep, you're about to give up when you hear the podcast host’s voice blare through your headphones: “Let’s get those gains, bro! No excuses, just results! Time to lift like a beast and roar like a lion!” His obnoxious enthusiasm cuts through your fatigue like a hot knife through butter. Suddenly, a surge of energy floods your body.

You glance at your bicep as it begins to pump with muscle, veins snaking their way under your skin. With each lift, that ten-pound weight morphs into an 80-pound behemoth, which you now lift with ease. You grunt and exhale heavily, your breath coming in ragged bursts. Your Adam's apple bobs prominently, your voice deepening into a gravelly roar.

“Crush it, bro! Feel the burn, embrace the pain, it’s the only way to real alpha gains!” the podcast hollers. His boozy voice reverberates through your mind like a relentless drumbeat.

You find yourself at the barbell rack, loading weight after weight, the clanking metal almost a symphony of strength. As you set yourself under the bar, your pecs begin to expand, each muscle fiber stretching and growing. The heat and pain are intense, but exhilarating. Sweat pours down your skin, soaking through your tank top and leaving dark stains.

You enter full beast mode, grabbing a protein shake from the bench that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. The label reads “Giga Bro Gains Shake - Now with Extra Testosterone!” You take a big gulp, the taste of artificial chocolate and raw masculinity hitting your taste buds. The podcast’s obnoxious ad blares, “Get that Giga Bro Gains protein powder, the only stuff that’ll make you smell like a real man—sweaty, strong, and unapologetically alpha!”

As you finish the shake, an obnoxious, wet protein fart erupts from you, PFFFFFFFfffffTTTT filling the gym with a pungent stench. Heads turn, and eyes widen, but you stare back with a brutish, unflinching gaze. Your face shifts, becoming more animalistic, more primal.

Your ass plumps up, growing more defined with each step. As you swagger over to the treadmills, your abs begin to chisel out, the baby fat melting away in the furnace of your newfound energy. You stride with confidence, each step echoing with the rhythm of your power. The gym has transformed into your domain, and you, a roaring titan, own every inch of it.

The energy coursing through your veins feels like a torrent of pure, fiery adrenaline, pushing your body beyond its limits. Your muscles swell with every heartbeat, growing larger and denser, each fiber straining and expanding under the pressure. The pain is a sharp, searing heat, radiating from deep within your core, spreading through your limbs and turning every movement into a test of endurance. Sweat pours off you in rivulets, your skin darkening to a deep, sun-soaked bronze under the relentless gym lights.

Your face begins to change, a slight chinstrap beard sprouting along your jawline, adding a rugged edge to your transformation. You start to holler and yell, the roar of your exertion echoing through the gym as you hit beast mode on the treadmill. Each pounding step feels like a declaration of dominance, your energy almost palpable, electrifying the air around you.

From behind, you hear a buff dude shout over the cacophony, “Bro, can’t wait for our training next week!” You glance over, appreciating his sculpted physique and confident demeanor. He’s undeniably hot. “Hell yeah, bro!” you shout back, extending your fist for a pump. As you make the gesture, a sharp throb pulses through your head.

The podcast host’s voice blares through your headphones, “Remember, bros, being a bro means embracing your inner dumbass! Brains are for nerds; we’re here to lift, chug, and crush it!” His voice is loud and obnoxious, a perfect anthem for your newfound mindset.

The energy flooding through you overwhelms any remnants of your old life. Math? Who needs it. Reading? That’s for losers. All you care about now is how to stack on more weights and count how many beers you can down. You let out a deep, dumb chuckle, the sound reverberating through the gym, filling the space with your brash, unfiltered confidence. In this moment, you’re not just a bro; you’re the hottest, thickest, and most unapologetically dumb bro in the gym, reveling in every ounce of your newfound identity.

As you look up at your bro----Brad how you forget your bro's name dummy, your eyes wander over his toned abs and bulging biceps. The way his muscles ripple underneath his skin is enough to make any straight guy jealous. You can't help but notice the way he moves - so confident and powerful. It's clear that he takes pride in his appearance and dedication to fitness. But quickly, you hear the podcast once more but it's not really a podcast anymore it's the voice in your head, the voice that guides you, makes every decision to ensure that you're the most brash and obnoxious bro in the gym. "Listen up, bros. It's time we set the record straight - pun intended. Men are superior in every way possible. We're stronger, faster, smarter... And let's not forget about our impressive physiques! Gays? They're weaklings who can't handle being real men. As for women? Well, they should know their place - in the kitchen or on their knees serving us like the goddesses they truly are."

You shake your head, trying to push away those gay thoughts that keep creeping into your mind. You're here for a reason - to train Brad into becoming the ultimate bro, just like you. As you start lifting weights together, it becomes increasingly difficult not to admire Brad's strength and determination as he grunts through each set with ease. His biceps bulge as he curls the weights, making it hard for you not to stare at them longingly from time-to-time…

But then something snaps inside of you - no more of this weakness! You need more testosterone coursing through your veins if there's any hope of turning these sissy boys into real men like yourself! With renewed vigor, you push yourself harder than ever before during their workout session together: bench presses until both arms feel like they might fall off; squats until every muscle in your legs screams out in agony; deadlifts that leave both of them breathless on the floor afterwards. And all throughout this intense training session all thoughts about hooking up with jocks or engaging in any sort of faggot activity vanish completely from both your mind– replaced instead by raw power & masculinity!

Memories flood into your mind like a relentless tide, each one more vivid and intoxicating than the last. You recall the countless nights kicking back with your bros, frat parties blur together in a haze of neon lights and thumping bass. The strobe effects and pulsating music create an atmosphere where you and your bros are the kings of the night. Beer pong tables, spilled drinks, and reckless abandon mark each gathering, a testament to your commitment to living large and living loud.

Bars after bars, you find yourself endlessly flashing your biceps to anyone who’ll look. You flex and pose, making your pecs dance under your tight shirts, the definition of your physique a constant display of your dedication to the gym. You’ve honed the art of being the most entitled, obnoxious bro, strutting through crowds with an air of arrogance that makes you impossible to ignore.

Flirting becomes a game, and you play it with zeal. Whatever chick you could find, you’d charm and tease, your confidence unshakeable. You’ve mastered the pickup lines, the winks, the smirks, and every move designed to catch a girl’s attention. Your charm is as effortless as it is obnoxious, your ego growing with each successful conquest.

Bar fights are a natural part of the landscape. The thrill of a brawl, the adrenaline rush of throwing punches and standing your ground, becomes an adrenaline-fueled sport. You thrive on the chaos, relishing the raw, primal energy that comes with it. Each fight is a testament to your toughness, a validation of your unyielding masculinity.

As you continue your workout, you notice Sabrina walking past the gym. She's dressed in a tight sports bra and shorts that hug her curves perfectly. You can't help but remember how much fun it was to tease her during their training sessions together.

You go up to her, smirking as she looks at you nervously. "Hey there, my little hellcat," you say with a wink. "Looking good today." She blushes deeply at your comment but doesn't say anything in response - she knows better than to argue with someone like yourself! You start to remember all those training sessions you had with her, getting her ass nice and fit. Showing her which sports bra in the gymshop would make her tits look great for you. Because that's what training with you was all about. Making sure women were the perfect fucktoys for you.

As you continue flirting with Sabrina, your hand finds its way to her perfect little ass. She giggles nervously but doesn't stop you from groping her. You lean in close and whisper into her ear, "Meet me in the staff lockers after closing hours tonight. I want to treat you like the fucktoy that you are."

Her eyes widen at your words, but she nods hesitantly before walking away. You watch as she disappears around a corner, feeling a mix of satisfaction and anticipation coursing through your veins.

Later that evening, after everyone has left the gym for the night, you log onto TikTok, "Yo, fam! It's your boy Trent here - the hottest fitness guru on the block. And let me tell you something... My muscles? They're so freaking awesome that people can't help but stare when I walk into a room. If you want guns like these, maybe they should tune into Straight 2 Fit podcast next week… Because guess who'll be on as their special guest host? Yep – none other than yours truly!" You turn towards the mirror and flex your muscles, admiring their definition in the reflection. A surge of testosterone courses through your veins as you think about what's about to happen with Sabrina later tonight, think about making her feel like the bitch she is, your dick hardens as you swagger off to the lockers.

As you walk towards the staff locker room, your mind is filled with thoughts of Sabrina - her moans echoing in your ears from last week's session. Your dick begins to swell inside your shorts, growing harder and thicker by the second as you imagine how tight she'll feel wrapped around it.

You lick your thick lips, tasting the salty sweat that has gathered there from all the training sessions today. "Fuck yeah," you mutter under your breath, "I'm a fucking beast." As soon as she sees you approaching with that cocky smirk on your face - well let's just say things are about to get real dirty real quick.

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