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nvirskies · 3 months

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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

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airbendertendou · 1 year

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i can’t die! [i’m all in.] ♡ chishiya shuntaro

anon requested : Hi Author! Can you please write (if it's okay) a fanfic about chishiya, Where the reader was chishiya's girlfriend before the borderline, they were supposed to meet in somewhere but the meteorite fell just before they did, and they meet again for the first time in the jack of hearts game? I know this isn't very detailed and I'm so sorry for that ;-; thank you author

song inspo ; coin by iu

synopsis : seeing your arranged boyfriend-of-sorts in the borderland’s is nerve-wracking. especially when he sees you’ve befriended a serial killer.

gender neutral reader, [name] used in place of y/n, platonic!banda - he might b ooc but idc <3, reader wears an oversized cardigan

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —

“Will you get out of my way?” You shove the tall male to the side playfully as you fasten the collar around your neck. Banda’s eyes met yours and you grinned mischievously. “This place remind you of anything?”

“You’re so funny,” he replies blandly. The prison around you is cold and you’re thankful for the cardigan you’ve kept all these weeks. You follow behind Banda as he walks up the stairs, eyes on the floor as you anticipate your newest game. “Jack of Hearts — what are you expecting?”

Thinking the question over briefly, you speak monotonously, “Russian roulette, probably.”

“I wouldn’t be so lucky.”

Eyes are on you both as you walk into the main hallway. A girl in a blue dress catches your attention, then a sweet looking guy in yellow and overalls. Your eyes drop to the floor again as the automated voice goes over the game and the rules. A subtle nudge against your shoulder catches your attention. Banda speaks without moving, “you and me?”

“That’s what I was planning, doofus.”

Your gaze drifts around the room again as people begin to pair up. Banda wanders off, exploring the area you’re locked in indefinitely. A white hood catches your attention, eyes following down their figure until you’re met with analyzing eyes and a familiar smirk. Your lips part, “Chishiya?”

As if he can hear you, the man tilts his head at you before walking off with his chosen group.

Banda has collected a new person to join your duo — the stranger looks you over before grinning shyly. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, distrust crawling up your spine as you smile back. Meeting Banda’s gaze, you knew he was just as wary.

The killer — because that’s what he was in the other world and this one — slinks up next to you slyly. “See anyone you know?”

“Maybe,” you’re looking around once more, observing the way everyone interacts. Inclining your body slightly to the right, your eyes meet Chishiya’s. “Him. We were… together, in the other world. Something our parents agreed on.”

Banda lets out a mischievous snicker before leaning closer to you. “How cute. And he hasn’t come to say hello? Pity.”

You glare his way, wedging your elbow into the right side of his ribcage. The timer goes off then and you scamper over to an empty cell to give your card suit. As you exit your cell, Chishiya is idling in front of you curiously. He sways before speaking, “you know he’s killed people, right?”

“At this point, I haven’t met anyone here who isn’t a murderer.”

The blond hums before his gaze drifts, landing on something over your right shoulder. You know it’s Banda, looming behind you as he usually does. Chishiya looks to you again and speaks before his group comes to collect him. “I look forward to your survival.”

You find yourself in the cafeteria, stuffing snacks into the pockets of your cardigan for later before grabbing a drink and something to eat right then. Banda is sitting against the wall, staring ahead at Chishiya as you sit beside him. A pack of cookies lands in his lap — Banda doesn’t flinch as he peels the snack open and begins to eat it.

“Do you have to stare?” You mumble. Matsushita hadn’t returned from his bathroom break yet and you found relief in his absence. Another chip is placed in your mouth as you glare at Banda — he was still staring Chishiya’s way. “You have a crush on him or somethin’?”

Before he could answer, a body is slammed next to yours. Looking down, you see a man sweating and crying as another looms over him menacingly. Banda slides up beside you, whispering a small, “lie to him.” in the man’s ear. You look away from them and see Chishiya looking at you again, judgment clouding his eyes as you don’t speak up against Banda.

You grumble, “already startin’ shit and we just got here.”

“The game had to start sometime.”

As time passes, players dwindle slowly until the number hastens. There are only six of you left now — Chishiya’s partner couldn’t handle the pressure of the games, it seemed. Banda and Matsushita tell you your symbol — “club.” — before Banda breaks away from your group. You can feel the former’s eyes on you as you take sips from your drink, unnerving every inch of your skin. He interrupts the silence with a brutal curveball. “He’s lying to you, Banda. Your symbol is spade.”

“Why would he lie to me?”

“Maybe he thinks you’re the Jack,” Matsushita grins. Then he shrugs and leans against the wall beside you. “Or maybe he’s the Jack and is just trying to get rid of you. Who knows.”

You hum, tilting your head playfully. Of course you don’t believe him — strangely, you hadn’t doubted Banda since you got here. “What a waste. After we stayed allies for so long, he’d choose to get rid of me now?”

Matsushita’s eyes widen briefly at the new information before he snickers. “What a waste, indeed. Guess he doesn't cherish your friendship after all.”

Walking away from the liar, you find yourself alone in the cafeteria. Well, you thought you were alone — Chishiya announced himself by reaching beside you for a pack of crackers. “Running around without your guard dog now, hm?”

“You can't talk,” you respond. “All alone, lingering around here like a ghost. Spooky.”

Your back is to the shelf of food as Chishiya begins to crowd your space. He hums while pouting his bottom lip, looking everywhere but you. “How’d you end up with Banda anyways? You were on your way to meet me.”

“We made a deal,” you shrug. By the tilt of your voice and raise of your eyebrows, Chishiya knows you’re lying. He stands quietly, taking one step closer to you. “Okay, fine. I threatened him and demanded we team up.”

“Of course you threatened a murderer.” Chishiya lets out a laugh just as the five minute warning echoes around the prison. He tugs on the cardigan you’re wearing, eyes softening at the sight of the worn fabric. “Think this is mine.”

“It might be,” you push off of the shelf and side-step the blond. You catch a glimpse of Chishiya’s symbol and are opening your mouth before you can think. “It’s diamond, by the way. Your suit.”

“Yours is club.” You nod in confirmation and it piques Chishiya’s interest. “Someone tell you different?”

“Matsushita tried to say Banda was lying to me. But, Banda knows better,” you glare. “I’ll break his kneecaps if he tries to kill me.”

Chishiya’s quiet laugh seems to echo in the desolate cell. It’s all you can think about — all you can remember as your fingers dance along the knit cardigan you’re wearing. After this — if you survive this game — you want to go home. You want to go back with Chishiya and watch that movie you were supposed to meet at.

It’s no surprise to see Matsushita being cornered by the three others. He did freak you out — and he tried to get you killed. You eye his frightened expression lifelessly before speaking. “Can we take those snacks downstairs with us? I ran out of food a few days ago.”

— BONUS —

You’re sitting beside Chishiya’s hospital bed as the news begins. Absent-mindedly, you hand him a slice of the fruit you were eating as the news reporter begins to speak. A picture of a convict pops up along with the news story. “...Banda is still missing. We are asking everyone to be cautious and be safe. We’ll have the week’s weather up next.”

“You know…” you narrow your eyes at the picture of the man. Something about him looks familiar — it sends a tingle of awareness through your mind the longer you stare. “I think I could take that guy in a fight.”

Chishiya turns his head to you stiffly, furrowing his eyebrows. “He’s a serial killer, [name].”

You shrug, “I could do it.”

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ — this wasn’t really fluffy or romantic but i wanted to write a goofy n playful reader so <3 might b posting an aib series soon, so keep an eye out for that! forever taglist : @straysugzhpe & @star2fishmeg <<33

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya imagine #shuntaro chishiya #aib x reader #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland x reader #aib imagine #chishiya oneshot #chishiya fluff #banda x reader #banda imagine

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