A/N: This is to counter the depressing stories I have in my account. I can't believe it's been three years since I started writing for this shindig (and my writing's been horrible. I'm not going to play the I-was-only-thirteen-that-time card so sue me), and so I offer my last story in this fandom before I leave for college and aim for a medical degree. Being sixteen totally kicks ass, you know?

This story is just me losing my mind. I'm sorry if it's kinda over the top.

I hope you enjoy this with all of your heart's content. Read and review, please.

Disclaimer: Plot? I own. Characters? Not mine. Mistakes? Unfortunately, mine.

Percy Jackson and The Olympians

Title: I Swear I Didn't Paint A Target On My Balls

Summary: I so did not expect this so much pain. Oh gods, my groins. Oh gods, my precious groins. (A story where the Hero of Olympus gets slammed on the crotch)

~0~

I just made this astounding discovery: being numb? Great. Going numb? Fucking hurts.

The three crazy ladies must be cackling their grotesque heads off right now. I know they planned this. I know it. I hope they die a slow, painful death, hanged by their own fucking threads they spin every fucking day.

I wish I could say I deserved it; shockingly so, I have been a very, very good boy. Although I am not exactly the poster boy for Santa's Nice Kids list, saving the world from utter destruction from the Titans and Gaea does make a sound argument.

To the Tiber god: taking away my invulnerability is something I will sue you for. I'm sure you have enough aureus to hire some godly lawyer.

See, what should be a normal, happy, painless day in Camp Half-Blood turned out to be one hell of a ding-dong for me, with my dear Annabeth going all too serious and berserk on me for one measly training session, cracking my precious nuts in the process.

How, you ask?

With a simple maneuver. The knee thing.

And BANG!

I'm hit, I'm hit! Mayday, mayday!

This is going down, I mean waaaaayyyy down in the Top Ten Embarrassing things that ever happened to me. And this easily overwhelms everything, snagging the top spot. Yes, I'm serious. Nothing beats this, except maybe the time I caught my Social Studies teacher pleasuring himself in a conference room.

I drop to my knees, ignoring the painful stab on my patella. Hey, I hadn't been drinking milk since I was, I dunno, nine? Hence the weak knees. On the contrary, Annabeth clearly has this on-going campaign for dairy products because shit, the woman has bones like a jackhammer.

Oh, yeah. There it is. The whole wide, grey-eyed 'OHMYGODSIJUSTDESTRYOEDMYBOYFRIENDSBALLS' look. If I'm not in blinding pain right now, I would be seriously turned on, but yeah. Any arousal on my part ain't gonna happen until both of my testicles stop doing spin cycles.

I wish she'd stop rambling. I am in deep, deep agony here, Chase, baby, and if you start apologizing I will tear this joint apart.

Why do people call these things balls, anyway? I mean technically, they don't look like balls. And they certainly aren't covered with strong, rubber exteriors. More like kiwi fruits. Coconuts?

My ADHD's going haywire.

No! No, no, no, no, Annabeth. Dearest Annabeth, do not call for help. This is not a 911 situation. Don't shout for Chiron or anyone at all, for gods sake. This is a mortal man situation, and I don't think Chiron or sweet Dionysus even has the capacity to fully understand the knee-to-groin torture I am in. Do gods and centaurs even have penises?

Huh. I'll ask Hermes next time he stops by.

To think about it, the sensual goddess Aphrodite was born by a huge cock tossed at the sea, right? I mean, who does that? I know vasectomy's all the range here in America, with the infidelity and angry housewives with huge butcher knives going round and about, but throwing it away from the cliffside is like a huge missile aiming on a bunch of innocent, unsuspecting children.

Did I just call Dionysus 'sweet'?

See, this is why codpieces have roamed the earth since the 1400s. And in today's case, armors have extra lining to protect our highly-sensitive crotches from getting slammed. You protect where value's due.

And fuck, how come I forgot to wear that today?

Ugh, gods. Wise Girl, I love you, alright? But please, this is the wrong time to ask me if I am within proximity of being "okay".

Oh, great. There goes my breakfast. Shit. I don't remember eating strawberries this morning.

Honest to Zeus, why did the god of human anatomy ever placed kiwis in between legs? Oh sure, they definitely look great, and that's a major plus in getting it on with the ladies, but hell. I don't care if sperm cells can't take the hotness of the male human temperature so they have to be produced outside. This should have been my wish when the council at Olympus asked me for one, and I'm sure not only demigods would reap the awesome benefits.

My kiwis are going to burst, oh man, OH MAN. THISISSONOTINMYTEN-YEARPLANFUCKITISTILLWANTTOBEA*G ODDAMN*FATHER.

Annabeth, hon, please give me a moment to breathe. No. No, dear. I don't need your Midol. I am not having my menstrual cycle right now. Yeah, some Advil, please. No? Okay, Motrin's good.

Yep, she's holding it in. I can see it. Her cheeks are getting all red and puffy, and her shoulders are slowly shaking now.

Uh-huh, I will hang on. Seriously, Annabeth, I have nowhere to go. Some ice would also be nice, thank you very much.

There she goes, thank the gods, swinging her sweet little tushie. She's going for the rescue. Atta girl. This gives me some time for privacy 'coz right now I would like to pollute the air with a whole lotta four-letter words – and no, longshoreman ain't gonna cut it.

Uuuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Gods, my whole body's tingling so hard right now. I think my it is having a headache. Oohh, ohhh. Tender, tender. Oh gods, I can't feel my balls. My head is pounding, my chest hurts.

Shhhiiiiiiiitttttttttt.

Yay, she's back. With a lot of ice, ya-hoo. I'm yodeling now, whether in pain or pleasure I'm not sure. Oh yes, that's the stuff. Ohhhhhhh yessssssss.

I am so disgusting right now.

Leave me alone now, girlie. This is practically your fault, yes, but no, I am not going to break up with you, so go now. Yup, you can go. This is going to take a long while to subside, so yeah. I know you have to. You are so red in the face right now I can die.

O-kay. That did it. She's snorting now. So unlady-like, Hades me. Honestly, I don't know if my pride or my kiwis are going to be proportional for the rest of my life. Wounded, even more so. The snorting phase is over; she's laughing now, clucking like a hen about to be cut open –

I wave her away briskly. Yes, darling, I and my globes are going to be fine. She follows my raspy request. Good girl. Uh-huh. Yep, I can still hear the "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" about a mile away. Right. She's still laughing at her cabin.

I sigh.

There, there, Miss Chase. I understand that this situation is very funny, even if it's on my expense. Yep, I fully understand. I'm just going to lie down here on this nice, velvety grass while I listen to you snorkel as my gonads fall out, and you will extend the same gratitude as I will put some space between us for a few days, years, decades, won't you?

Because I remember you did say you wanted to have nice, non-mutated, functional kids with me in the future so I'm sure some berth from your Athenian patella will be swell for both of us.

~Fin~