#rue writes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ruewrites · 2 years

Text

Kinktober 2022 Day 1: Breath Play

AO3

Ship: Barbatos/Mammon

Word Count: 506

Warning: smut, breath play

A/N: I'M BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN? Anyways, I'm back again this year. Hope you enjoy the new lil tricks and treats I have for y'all! I couldn't think of anyone else to kick off this prompt with than these two. I hope you enjoy! Comments are appreciated!

Mammon’s hands flew to Barbatos’ wrists as he gasped for air. The butler’s strength never ceased to amaze him. Thumbs pressed down on his throat, constricting his airway and making him go dizzy. Each time, just before his vision would go black, the pressure would let up and air would flood into his lungs.

"It's quite the change to not hear chatter spilling from your lips," Barbatos mused. His hips moved teasingly close to Mammon's erection, tickling the skin but it was nowhere near enough to get him off. If only he could press a little harder, or let that tail or his slip inside-

"I must say I quite like it, although I may go back to gags to get complete silence. But, I do like the feeling of your skin under my fingers."

Each of his fingers slowly tapped around Mammon's throat and slowly squeezed once more. Barbatos' fingers were icy cold, but it did nothing but spark a searing fire in the pit of Mammon's stomach. When he let loose even a little bit, Barbatos could be a lot of fun, and right now Mammon was having one hell of a time.

“You remember your safe word yes?”

“Pumpernickel.”

It used to be golden, unfortunately that was one of Mammon’s actual favorite words and it didn’t work well. But something like pumpernickel? Yeah that worked a lot better.

Barbatos grinned, and started to position himself. His tail snuck slowly around towards his neck, forked ends slipping up either side of his collar bones. He caught a glimpse of Barbatos’ eyes before his mouth sunk down on his dick. He couldn’t help but let his hands wander upwards to squeeze the butler’s ass. As he squeezed, so did Barbatos’ tail.

Mammon let his eyes close as both ends of Barbatos constricted. Every time the grip loosened, whether it was his hands or tail, Mammon would feel a weird sort of combination of adrenaline and ease. As air flooded back into his lungs, blood would rush to both of his heads, giving him a dizzying sense of euphoria. It was a rush, it was exciting, it was erotic, and Barbatos knew just how to work it, taking him right to the edge only to bring him back once again. It was like going out into the ocean just to stare at the endless sky, his head bobbing above and beneath the waves every now and again. If he was lucky, Mammon would be seeing stars before long.

And oh did he want to see stars.

Barbatos was magic when it came to working him, he knew exactly what Mammon wanted. It was like he could read minds along with being an oh so powerful and mysterious demon. That worked in Mammon’s favor, it meant he could do less, he could relax, he could be completely and utterly at Barbatos’ mercy as he took his breath away and gave it back to him over and over again.

And was there really any better place to be?

#rue writes #kinktober 2022 #smut #obey me #barbatos x mammon #obey me barbatos #obey me mammon

18 notes · View notes

ruelikestowrite · 1 year

Text

watching the breakfast club for communications >>>

#college #text post #the breakfast club #rue writes

2 notes · View notes

nvirskies · 3 months

Text

it's getting hot in here - c. la rue

warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read

summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.

hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte

from this post !

a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni

It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.

And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.

Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction.

In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day.

She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.

Something about you entranced her.

She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion.

Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely.

As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.

It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.

The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette.

She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway.

Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence.

The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.

“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus.

And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.

Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.

Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.

After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.

Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.

“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.

Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands.

After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed.

“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.

Or so you thought.

“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

#🖋️ nvir writes #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse pjo #cabin 9 #daughter of hephaestus #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv

1K notes · View notes

thatsbelievable · 6 months

Text

#Conversations I Have Had With Edgar Allan Poe #Edgar Allan Poe #author #authors #writer #writers #writing #literature #books #poems #poetry #detective #Murders in the Rue Morgue #C. Auguste Dupin #orangutan

2K notes · View notes

herlondonboy · 3 months

Text

so it goes, clarisse la rue

summary: based off of this ask!

warnings: angst to fluff, bullies yk.

wc: 1.4k

from the moment you and clarisse started your relationship, it was evident that your affectionate nature and innate clinginess were characteristics woven into the fabric of your connection. clarisse, with her understanding and patient demeanour, assured you early on that your constant need for closeness wasn't just tolerated but genuinely embraced.

in those initial stages, clarisse would gently remind you that she enjoyed the warmth of your touch, the way you sought comfort in the proximity of one another. it was as if the world outside faded into insignificance whenever you two were entwined, and the simple act of being close provided a sanctuary for your heart.

days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, yet your affectionate tendencies persisted and even flourished. whether it was a subtle hand on her arm, fingers interlaced, or a comforting arm around your shoulders, the physical connection became an unspoken language of love between you two. it wasn't just about the warmth of the embrace; it was about the security and reassurance it offered.

clarisse, appreciating the way you expressed love, reciprocated with a warmth that matched yours. it became a dance of affection, an unspoken agreement that permeated every moment spent together. even in the most mundane activities like watching a movie or sharing a meal, there was an unbreakable link, a tangible reminder that you were both present and connected.

the outside world might label it as clinginess, but for the two of you, it was an unspoken promise of solidarity. for you, it assured you that clarisse wasn’t going anywhere. for clarisse, it reassured her that you were real. clarisse found solace in your touch, and you, in turn, found security in her acceptance. it wasn't just about physical proximity; it was a testament to the emotional bond that continued to strengthen.

as time passed, your relationship evolved, but the affectionate nature remained a constant. each touch, each shared moment, became a testament to the enduring strength of your connection. in the arms of clarisse la rue, you found not just a lover but a haven, a place where the simple act of touch spoke volumes, whispering promises of love and everlasting togetherness.

heart heavy, you raised your hand to knock on the cabin door, only to freeze upon hearing clarisse's siblings teasing her from within.

"how do you put up with them?" one of her brothers chuckled. "you can't seriously like having them all over you all the time."

clarisse joined in the laughter, "i know, right? they're super annoying. i just need a moment to myself every now and again."

as their words hung in the air, a lump formed in your throat. doubt crept in, overshadowing the reassurances clarisse had once offered. the sanctuary you believed you had found in her arms began to crumble.

torn between confronting the situation and retreating, you took a step back from the door. the vulnerability of the moment choked you, tears welling up in your eyes as you questioned the authenticity of your connection with clarisse.

with a heavy heart, you turned away, the creaking of the floor beneath your weight muffled by the echoes of laughter from inside. the cabin, once a refuge, now felt like a distant memory as doubt clouded your perception.

as you walked away, the words of clarisse's siblings lingered, echoing in your mind. the path before you seemed uncertain, the foundation of your relationship shaken by the unfiltered opinions of those close to clarisse. a battle raged within you– the desire for connection conflicting with the fear of being a burden.

in the solitude of the outdoors, you grappled with your emotions. the vulnerability of that moment lingered, but so did the love that had initially bound you and clarisse together. it was a pivotal juncture, a moment of truth that demanded introspection.

as the evening unfolded, the air outside in camp thickened with tension. the dinner table became a silent witness to the growing unease. clarisse, noticing your absence, excused herself from the table, her siblings' banter fading as she stepped outside in search of you.

the pebble beach, bathed in the soft glow of twilight, welcomed clarisse's searching gaze. her heart quickened as she spotted you lying down, your hand trailing through the gentle caress of the water. relief and worry danced in her eyes as she approached, her footsteps slowing to avoid disturbing the fragile atmosphere.

tapping your shoulder gently, clarisse's touch sent a shiver down your spine. for a moment, you almost melted into her warmth, forgetting the turmoil within. as reality struck, you sat up abruptly, distancing yourself from her touch. clarisse, sitting down beside you, furrowed her brows at the puffy redness in your eyes, evidence of the tears you had shed in solitude.

concern etched across her face, clarisse asked, "what's wrong?" her voice was a gentle melody, but the weight of the earlier conversation lingered in the air.

"if you don't like my touching you, why did you say you did?" the words spilled out, carrying the vulnerability that had plagued you since overhearing the candid remarks from her siblings.

clarisse's confusion morphed into realisation, her eyes widening as she connected the dots. the revelation hit her like a wave, and she scrambled to find the right words. "y/n, i didn't mean any of that. i was just playing along with my siblings' teasing. i love your affection; it's one of the things i cherish most about us. i never wanted you to doubt that."

the sincerity in her voice began to melt the walls you had erected. as she rushed out an apology, you felt the tension easing, replaced by the warmth of understanding. the vulnerability shared in that moment became the bridge to healing.

the vulnerability lingered in the air as you asked clarisse how you were supposed to believe her. doubt still clung to your heart, a lingering echo of the overheard conversation. clarisse, sensing the weight of your uncertainty, took a deep breath before gently taking your hands in hers.

with a sincerity that transcended words, she locked eyes with you, the depths of her gaze conveying a truth that needed no verbal affirmation. "y/n," she began, her voice a gentle reassurance, "i understand why you might doubt, but you mean everything to me. my love for you is real, and your touch is something i cherish, not something to be teased about."

in that shared moment, her touch became an anchor, grounding you in the reassurance you sought. the world around you seemed to fade as clarisse spoke through the language of touch.

wrapping her arms around you, she pulled you close, creating a cocoon of warmth that melted away the remnants of doubt. "i never want you to question how much you mean to me," she whispered, her breath brushing against your ear. the tenderness of her embrace spoke louder than any apology or explanation could. it was a silent pledge, an unspoken promise that resonated through the shared heartbeat between you two.

as clarisse pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, the gentle gesture spoke volumes. "i love you," she murmured, the words a balm to the ache of uncertainty. it was a gesture of love, an act that transcended the need for words. in that moment, you could feel her heartbeat sync with yours, a rhythmic affirmation of the bond you shared.

the beach became a sanctuary, the lapping waves providing a soothing backdrop to the intimate dance of emotions. clarisse's arms around you became a shield against doubt, a fortress built on the foundation of trust. the silence of the night was broken only by the whispers of the wind and the tender exchange of touches that bridged the gap between fear and assurance.

as clarisse held you close, you felt the walls around your heart crumble. the vulnerability you had carried transformed into a newfound strength, fortified by the genuine love that radiated from her every touch. "i believe you," you finally whispered, your voice a fragile acknowledgment. it was in that embrace that you found the answer to your question, a tangible affirmation that spoke louder than any words ever could.

in the quiet intimacy of the beach, doubts were replaced by a profound understanding. clarisse, through the language of touch, had dismantled the barriers that threatened your connection. as you rested in her arms, the moonlit night bore witness to the resilience of love, the power of vulnerability, and the unwavering strength of a bond that emerged unscathed from the storm of doubt.

#clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse pjo #elijah writes #please reblog #elijah random

666 notes · View notes

m0nsterqzzz · 2 months

Text

Capture the Flag

pairing: clarisse la rue x child of apollo!reader

summary: you hate capture the flag, and clarisse hates people hurting you. that's that.

warnings: kidnapping? *done by a bunch of demigod teenagers for the simple outcome of winning a game* mentions of murder because what is a clarisse fic without it? swearing? kinda oc clarisse just because I can't write anything else without turning it into enemies to lovers

a/n: she is my love. clarisse defender for life.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Clarisse La Rue.

The name sparks fear in many people at Camp Half Blood. Kids cower when she’s near, or run away when she walks towards them. It makes her happy, having people fear her. She thrives off of it, being a daughter of Ares; the god of war.

But too you? The name brings warmth, comfort, and love. It’s very rare her wrath has ever been directed towards you, and the few times it has been was when she didn’t know you. When you were just another camper to her.

It only took a few days at camp for you to be claimed by your father, Apollo.

It made sense really, your bubbly and energetic personality was so similar to your fathers and his demi god childrens. You moved into cabin seven with your small backpack of beloved items from your past, picking the bed in the corner farthest away from the few other children of Apollo and spending most of your time in that spot if you weren't at arts and crafts or archery. Not many people cared about you at first, not that you mind while you were trying to process all that happened for you to finally get to this wilderness home. Then you tried to make some friends, which ended with you mostly spending your days with your siblings or the children of Hermes and the campers who lived in that cabin without being claimed.

Then, you met your girlfriend. The love of your life. You're everything. Clarisse.

She had protected you during a game of capture the flag, not realizing that your “attacker” was one of your best friends who simply held his sword up to you in a playful way. You teased her for weeks after that, giving her the title, “my protector”. Although the teasing eventually stopped, the nickname never did.

You’re her sunshine. That’s clear to everyone in camp, but nobody really talks about it for fear of being hurt by her spear.

Capture the flag is one of her favorite days out of the week. Other than every Tuesday when Chiron lets you eat dinner at her table- an agreement that came after a very long week of begging of course. That was his compromise to your ask of being able to spend every night at that table, and Clarisse wasn’t going to push it despite liking the first idea more.

It became a lot harder to win said game when she started dating you, team red losing one of their best fighters when she would leave her post by the flag to roam the forest and make sure you are okay. It just makes you laugh when she stops kissing you up against a tree to suddenly run back to her post when she remembers the main task at hand, but her siblings and team would definitely disagree that it's funny.

Today's no different, and after threatening her teammate with her spear, she leaves her post to find you with the peace of mind that they’ll protect the flag and won’t tell on her to the other players on team red.

You on the other hand, you have your headphones in, music blasting in them as you dance through the forest and around the trees. Capture the flag has never really been as important to you as your teammates on the blue team, and both Annabeth and Luke eventually learned to give you a simple task and let you do your own thing.

The nymph's join along in your activities every once in a while, but for the most part they just stay in their tree form as you dance past them.

You’re in your own world with your favorite song playing on your wired headphones that stay connected to the ipod in your hand that your girlfriend gifted to you after she came home from a quest a few months ago. It’s only when someone hits your helmet-covered head with the butt of their sword so hard you pass out that you realize you wandered into the red team's territory.

Waking up, the first thing you notice is the harsh light of the sun glaring down at you. Then it’s the rough feeling of wood on your back and the tight pull of rope on your stomach when you try and fail to stand up from your sitting poston. Your stomach churns as you realize what kind of situation you're in; no help, in a vulnerable position, and no weapon. Lastly, you groan when you realize that your headphones have been taken out of your ears and are laying in a tangled pile a few feet away along with your ipod.

After a few seconds, your vision clears up and the two blobs of color that you saw in front of you turn out to be two people. They’re clearing down at you from their standing positions, one with a sword out and the other holding a dagger.

“Good morning sunshine.” You cringe at the nickname that comes from one of the boys you now recognize from the Aphrodite cabin. It’s the one that your girlfriend uses for you.

Children of Aphrodite may be well known for her being the goddess of love, and all things pink and pretty, but sometimes people forget she is also a goddess of war. Her demigod children are sweet and nice, but it’s no big surprise why Clarisse likes having them on her team when you see their fighting abilities when they actually try.

“What do you want with me?” You question harshly, trying but eventually giving up on trying to force the ropes to untie by moving your body around. You’re tied to a thin tree, thin enough for your arms to reach behind you and wrap around it- it's kind of like your giving the tree a backwards hug with your hands tied together around it- but not thin enough to break when you push you back up against it to test the theory on if you can snap it.

They look at eachother and chuckle, putting their weapons away when they realize you can’t get out of your ties. One you recognize as Oliver steps closer to you as he says, “Annabeth and Luke care about you so much, the moment they realize that you’re missing, they’ll forget all about the flag and Clarisse can go get it.”

You stare at them blankly for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. They glance at each other before narrowing their eyes at you.

“What are you laughing at sunshine?” You finish laughing when the ropes pull on your stomach way too tightly with the way your body shakes with the laughter. “You ummm…” You start, taking a deep breath when you find yourself beginning to giggle again. “You thought the most amazing plan…was to lead my overprotective friends and girlfriend…the girl who carries a spear with her everywhere she goes and hurts anyone who looks at her wrong mind you…to the spot where she’ll find her partner tied up to a tree in a clearing where no one is around to stop her from killing you guys?”

They stare at you with a sudden look of fear in their eyes before they walk a few yards away to begin whispering to each other, the confidence from earlier gone and rethinking their plan after you brought the obvious ending to your attention.

“Hey guys?!” You shout out, smiling when they turn around for a second to face you. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell Clarisse not to kill you! She usually listens to me because the last time she killed someone, I didn’t cuddle her for a week!” Their eyes widen at your casualness, as if her killing someone is completely normal in your world before turning back around so you can’t see them panicking. It doesn’t matter though, the way they move their hands erratically and have to take deep breaths from raising their voices in fear is enough knowledge.

They come back a few minutes later, the fear still there as they stand in front of you. You don’t ask what plan they’ve come up with now, and they don’t tell you.

You guys sit in silence for a second before you glance at your earbuds and ask, “Do you guys like jazz tunes?” The boys stare at you with a confused expression.

“Um..…no. Why? Is that what you were listening to?”

“No. It’s just a conversation starter. The quiet was getting kinda awkward.”

The silence is back again, before you begin to quietly hum the tune of the song you were listening to before they interrupted your state of happiness. “So…..did you guys see my amazing dancing?”

Liam chuckles, eyes not meeting yours as he scans the forest around you guys and mumbles, “It wasn’t that good.” Oliver lets out a small hum of agreement.

You scoff, eyes falling to your legs as you whisper under your breath, “Well damn. I’m definitely letting my girl kill you now.”

Suddenly, a few yards away, there is a loud scream that could make someone's ear eardrums bleed. It isn’t one of fear or sadness, but of anger. The boy’s eyes widen and they begin to spin in circles to try and keep track of the attacker as they pull out their weapons. You just smile.

The sound of someone running is what finally snaps them out of their panic enough to try running away, but she’s already there using the end of her spear to hit one's back so hard he falls forward and pulls the other one of one backwards and throws him on the ground by his armor.

The first boy she pushes tries to get up and scurry away, but she simply places her foot on his back and presses so down with her boot with enough pressure he looks ready to cry. He really should be wearing armor.

“Clar! Clar, it’s fine! I’m fine!” You shout when the fear starts to set in that she might actually hurt them, and she doesn’t even seem like she’s listening as she twists her spear in a circle and looks towards the other boy with a grin on her face that you know all too well. She’s going to kill them.

You begin to try and pry your hands out of the rope so hard it begins to shred your skin like paper in hopes of stopping her from doing something she’ll get in so much trouble for, and it’s only when you let out a small whimper of pain does Clarisse stop her actions. The grin falls from her face, and her foot releases the boy as she hurries over to you.

Both boys get up off the dirt, stumbling over their own feet as they begin to run back into the forest to hide from Clarisse. “You touch them again and I’ll kill you in ways even my father couldn’t imagine!” She screams over her shoulder in a terrifying voice, and the way she then turns to you with a sweet smile would be weird to anyone else. It only comforts you.

“I’m so sorry sunshine. I’m so sorry I let them hurt you.” She whispers as she uses the sharpest part of her spear to cut the ropes off. You sigh in relief, bringing them to your lap so you can gently caress them. There are red marks surrounding them, some of which you can already tell are going to bruise and one with a small cut on it from the rope and bark on the tree rubbing on your skin.

Your girlfriend looks guilty, so when she begins to spill even more apologizes you shut her up with a gentle kiss. “It’s okay Clar. I’m okay. It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” She shakes her head no and you watch with a small smile as she uses the most gentle touch you’ve ever felt to pick up your wrists and assess the injury.

“Really. I’m fine. It’s just some rope burn.” She hums in understanding, bringing them up to her lips one by one to place a feather light kiss on the red spots. “Better?” The curly haired girl asks with a small smile.

“Much.” She nods, letting out one more apology before she picks you up bridal style and begins to walk back in the direction of camp. It’s only when you make it to the edge of the clearing and the cabins, mess hall, and big house come into view do you realize she’s not taking you back to your team's territory.

When you go to ask where she’s taking you, but she just shh’s you and takes the trail to the infirmary. In the distance, the conch shell sounds, signaling the end of the game. It’s followed by the familiar cheers of your team, making you feel bad.

“I’m really sorry Clar. I could have walked myself. I’m so sorry” She just shakes her head, walking into the small building that only has about three Apollo children in it, the kids who don’t like to play capture the flag and volunteer to stay in the infirmary in case someone needs medical help. You know them, sending them all bright smiles and they do the same.

She sets you down on a gurney, a quick glare to the boy standing awkwardly a few feet away with a clipboard is all he needs to run over and begin gently cradling your arms to wrap your wrist’s. His name is Jamie, and he’s the quietest out of all of your siblings. Even with his silence, you know he’s an absolute sweetheart after nights spent painting with him or enjoy a walk in the sun together.

“Just take off the bandages to ice them every once and a while, and you should feel fine in a few days.” He mumbles before scurrying off to do something else, but in reality you know he’s just trying to get away from the girl who now stands at the edge of your bed like a guard. My protector.

You stand up, slowly walking towards her and wrapping your arms around the back of her neck. “You know, your siblings are beginning to despise me for being the reason you guys are losing.”

She shrugs, a small smile making its way onto her face. “Let them. They ever talk shit, you come to me. I’ll deal with it. Until then, they can despise you in silence. I’m just happy you’re okay sunshine.”

“Thanks to you. My protector.” With that she chuckles, leaning down to kiss you as your arms tighten around her.

“But I’m definitely getting Chiron to change the Apollo cabin to our team.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson series #clarisse la rue x you #ares god of war #once again i don't know how to write endings

576 notes · View notes

auroravictorium · 10 months

Text

i'm baaaaaack

#grishaverse fanfic #rue writes #midnights but make it kaz brekker

38 notes · View notes

rueevergreenfae · 2 months

Text

I want to say I hate being aro, but that wouldn't be true. I hate what comes with it. I hate the baggage society tied to my back and told me to bear. I hate loving and loving and loving and it never being enough because it's never romantic. It's never the "right" kind of love. It's never the "better" "stronger" type of love. It's not the love that ties two people together until death do they part. It's not the love that says you're mine. It's not the love that makes a family. It's the love that fills in temporarily, the love that's secondary, the love that gets overlooked and undervalued because it doesn't have strings attached.

Romantic relationships say they're forever, until they aren't, that they're exclusive, that they have expectations and guidelines and rules, so many rules. And yet they're valued second to none. They're the goal, the future. Beyond encouraged they're expected. You're expected to find one person, and only one, to confess love to. One person for the rest of your life. And that's it. Sure friends are nice and all, but they're never the end destination, just a little detour.

Except for me, they were never a detour. I just didn't always know that. But now, I say I love you, I'm here for you, forever and always. I say you're mine. I say I hold you so close to my heart. I say I will protect this relationship with my life. Until I have nothing left to protect. Until it fades to neglect. Until they lose interest and you're left holding a frayed rope that you thought was unbreakable.

#rue writes #my writing #rue rants #<- everyone welcome the new tag #writeblr #aromantic #aro rant #I was talking to one of my friends about how they feel like they'll never be loved #and it was just like...#I love you so much but that will never be enough for you #another friend has a partner and she's never said it but I see how she values him over me #and always will #and it's just. it's so disheartening knowing that I'll always play second fiddle #anyways #this was cathartic 10/10 would recommend angry prose it's great

9 notes · View notes

your-local-ruebit-hole-detective · 2 months

Text

#im sorry volo isnt on here because he rightfully has no one who cares about him. and thus would not fit the scenario #polls #rue rants #rue writes #i say the volo thing with love btw.

11 notes · View notes

sunnydayjackass · 2 years

Note

would you ever write for Your Boyfriend/Peter??

Absofuckinglutely not. Never. Fuck no.

#rue writes

26 notes · View notes

getosbiggestfan69 · 2 months

Text

— lovesick kisses

now playing — kiss me by sixpence none the richer ☀️

contents: clarisse la rue/fem!reader, fluff fluff fluff!! and clarisse is just so in love hehe 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽, clarisse calls you ‘pretty girl’

wc : 600+

the sound of laughter and soft-spoken words are all that can be heard throughout the cabin. what started as a small conversation, then turned into a makeup practice session, became what was happening currently.

“y/n,” clarisse muttered, her hands resting gently on your hips.

“give me a minute.” you protested, pressing kisses all over her face, lipstick marks being left behind. you thought she looked utterly gorgeous.

sunlight pours in through the windows, and it bounces just so perfectly off of clarisse's brown skin; she like she was made of honey and gold. the whole moment is a gentle calm that cradles you in its palms softly, and you’re feeling so lovesick, you think you might die.

(you don’t even know she feels the exact same way.)

“pretty girl.” she gives you a small squeeze, just to get your attention. “what are you even doing?”

you giggle, applying some more rosy hue on your lips, kissing her again. “‘m just kissing you, clar.” you mumbled, holding back the urge to break into laughter at her confused expression; she looks a little flustered.

“mhmmm,” she draws out, chuckling. “i can definitely see that.” she says, tracing comforting patterns on your lower back.

the sky melts into a soft, velvety orange hue outside, and clarisse looks into your eyes. there's starlights inside them, she thinks. and when she watches you break out into a smile, she wonders if she’s even lucky enough to have you all to herself.

“you done yet?” she sighs, mock-annoyance in her tone.

“not yetttt, clar.” you whined, kissing the apple of her cheek again, eyeing it to make sure the lipstick mark stays.

her eyes gleam brightly,

‘i’m so in love,’ she thinks.

it's all she can think. you’re her lighthouse. her saving grace, her entire reason for living. her one and only. her gaze is so featherlight, she looks at you like you’ve hung the stars or something.

(god, you’re just so pretty.)

you continue to cover her face and neck in kisses, giggling occasionally.

“now are you done?” she glared at you playfully, raising an eyebrow when you pull away. you shake your head in response and she groans, not in an annoyed way, more so endearingly. like how you’re just so sweet, she can’t get enough of you.

you go on to mumble under your breath, and she can barely make out what you’re saying. something along the lines of, ‘you’re annoying’, and, ‘stay still.’

this goes on for a few for minutes, the two of you bathed in the light of the sun. clarisse is a depiction of effortless charm, gazing down at you with those big brown eyes of hers, and that cute, smug expression. she looks so soft you swear you can feel your heart squeeze ever so tightly in your chest. you could probably combust, melt and ascend up to olympus.

“..done?” the curly-haired girl asks again, a cocky smirk plastered on her face.

and just when you’re just about to protest, she kisses you; ever so sweetly. it’s warm, and you feel butterflies flutter in your stomach, it’s just not fair how she makes you feel.

she hummed against your lips, pulling away with a smirk.

“so?” she asked, grinning coyly.

“what do you mean, ‘so’?” you whined in response, you can feel your cheeks heat up with a warm hue of red.

“you done?” she asks again, and you groan. she’s just so stubborn, and you adore that about her.

she chuckles at the sound, kissing you repeatedly, almost in a revengeful type of way, the good kind. she can’t get enough of you. clarisse la rue, who’s normally so hot-tempered can’t help but feel so cooled down with you. the daughter of ares, the greek god of war, is so hopelessly in love with you.

a/n: i feel like she’s a little ooc 😞 but it’s okay. i live for fluffy clarisse content

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse x you #clarisse la rue x reader fluff #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #lesbian #jesse writes ☾₊‧⁺

693 notes · View notes