"I'm not yours!"
clarisse la rue x fem!reader
authors note mainly for me: being fwb w/clarisse and her getting jealous.
warnings - slightly suggestive (but doesnt go in detail, its just like... idk... there), kissing, jealous!clarisse, arguing
You left her bed, panting. You sat up and wiped the sweat off your face and then got up to get dressed. "Hey, can I have this jacket," you asked Clarisse. She rolled her eyes. "Sure, I guess, it's pretty cold outside," she responded. You nodded and slipped on her jacket. As you began to leave, she said, "Stay safe, you."
You gave her a small smile. "Thank you, you too, see you later," you asked curiously. Clarisse slowly shook her head. "Maybe at night... but we're strangers in the morning, understand," she asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you mumbled, "Oh.." With a gulp, you nodded and walked out. "Night," you said gently and closed the door. Gentle footsteps filled the night and you quietly hummed to yourself. You silently slipped into your cabin and then your own bed without any of your siblings noticing. Or so you thought.
In the wake of daybreak, you woke up to your siblings all stealing glances at you. You shrugged it off. Your birthday was coming up soon and you had suspected that they were trying to plan a surprise. This behaviour quickly became worse, as they could barely meet your eye.
The one person who looked into your eyes, Izzie. She was from another cabin, and you were aware that she had a crush on you. Honestly, you only had eyes for Clarisse, but Izzie wasn't the worst, she was sweet, kind, caring.... Clarisse was dangerous, explosive. But just like a moth drawn to a flame, you couldn't keep your hands off her. She was... extraordinary. And you admired her.
Then it went downhill. Clarisse never batted an eye at you, but today, during dinner, she did. She couldn't keep her eyes off you. In any other situation, you would have been delighted, but she had an angry, passive look on her beautiful face. She tried to stay calm, but as Izzie approached you, it was almost as if a fire was ignited in her eyes.
She wanted you, she couldn't deny it, but she didn't want to admit it, what would people think?
Yet she did nothing. She sat there and ripped her eyes off of you and tried to think of anything or everything but you.
It was impossible though. Clarisse got up from her table and grabbed your arm. She began to drag you behind one of the cabins and she pinned you against it. "What was that, hm? Whatcha think you were doin' back there, princess?"
You squirmed against her grasp. "Why would you care?! It doesn't concern you."
Clarisse clenched her jaw and grit out through her teeth, "Because you're mine."
Your eyes faltered and you sighed, "But I'm not yours!"
"Leave, then. If you're not mine, then leave," Clarisse taunted as she let go of your shirt that was bunched up in her hands. You turned to walk away and she mumbled, "Don't lie like that," and pulled you into a kiss. One that you could sense her emotion in. As your arms wrapped around her neck and her hands tangled into your hair, you knew it was gentle, despite the previous context of it.
A few of your siblings peeked out from the corner of the cabin and laughed. "I knew it, she and Clarisse aren't just friends," they teased. You gently pulled away from the brunette's soft lips, realizing why everyone was acting so weird this morning. You reached for Clarisse's hand and squeezed it with a confident voice, "She's my girlfriend."
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It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
Finally able to draw Donald Duck from our Disneyverse Tabletop RPG where Donald served as "The Bishop" to Mickey's "King" and Goofy's "Rook." I needed some art for the NPC/Player token and honestly I think I'm quite happy with how this turned out.
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Chiron is looking through the big house for one of his books, wondering where it might be. After checking just about everywhere he sighs and decides he has to check Mr.D’s room. He goes in, luckily the god isn’t in there, so he searches briefly to no avail. He sigh’s disappointedly, but spots something.
He never considered the god to really be a reader—but on the wooden desk there is a book, open already. He knows he’s already invaded to much privacy but can’t help himself, his curiosity getting the better of him. He picks up the book to see what it is, and he has to force himself not to laugh. As the page reads “Baby boy names that start with P.”
He places the book down, and leaves. He always wondered where the god got all those names for Percy from.
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