PINK SLIPS | CLARISSE LA RUE
pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader
summary: clarisse keeps her distance following the capture the flag incident.
word count: 1.1k
author's note: happy valentine's day week! here is my gift to you all, part two to shapeshift đđ
i. you blew me a kiss in the class that she skipsÂ
Stacy used to never show up for archery practices, but recently, she had taken to accompanying you just to sit nearby and watch.
After the Capture the Flag incident, it seemed as though Stacy was around even more than usual. You liked her, you really did, she was your girlfriend, after all⊠but you also liked your alone time and space.
Speaking of space, Clarisse was giving you a lot of that lately. Itâs not like the two of you were ever that close, but you thought that after she saved you, she would at least acknowledge you here and there.
Instead, Clarisse had been skipping practices and camp activities, so much so that a small pile of pink slips had begun to accumulate on her bedside table. (You heard this from a friend of yours who happened to also be in Ares cabin).Â
After hitting the target once again, you looked over to see Stacy blowing you a kiss. You sighed, feeling sorrowful all of a sudden. You must have looked cold, because before you knew it, your girlfriend was running up to you and draping her sweater over your arms. âHere, sweet girl,â she smiled.
You smiled back, admiring the flawless makeup on her face and the way her hair fell perfectly down her back. Stacyâs eyeliner was always colored in the lines, sharp.Â
ii. you write me love letters, while she gets pink slipsÂ
For a child of Aphrodite, it was like every day was Valentineâs Day. So when you found a love letter addressed to you on your bed in the middle of July, you didnât blink twice. Your heart, however, did skip a beat when you read âFrom your secret admirerâŠâÂ
Without hesitation, you ripped the envelope open and your eyes immediately darted to the signature at the bottom. âXoxo, Stacy.âÂ
Your body relaxed and the rational part of your brain took over. What were you thinking? Of course, this letter was from your girlfriend, who you liked very much. You had very strong feelings for her. She was wonderful, and perfect, and nothing likeâ
You wouldnât even let yourself finish the rest of your thought. That would be entirely unfair to Stacy, who had done nothing but smother you with love and affection since the two of you started going out.Â
Okay, maybe smother wasnât the best word for it. It wasnât Stacyâs fault that her love language just happened to be grandeur and overbearing displays of affections, right? You should be grateful that at least you had someone.Â
In theory, your relationship was all perfect.Â
iii. but perfectâs never been my typeÂ
âI donât see what the big deal is, sheâs just a friend!â you exclaimed, trying to explain to your girlfriend that you were going to hang out with another camper.Â
âFrom the Ares cabin!â Stacy rebutted.Â
âWhat does that have to do with anything?âÂ
âSheâs also in that cabin.â You paused, it would appear that you werenât the only one that had been thinking about Clarisse.Â
âOkay, thatâs not fair. She saved me one time during Capture the Flag, it didnât mean anything,â you shook your head, as if to force the memory of Clarisseâs eyes scanning your body out of your mind.Â
âOh, sure. And her suddenly disappearing around camp means nothing too?â
âAre you keeping tabs on her now?âÂ
âSheâs not good for you, Y/N. She would never be as good to you as I am.â Stacy inched closer with every word that came out of her mouth.Â
âAre you though? Good to me?â Every thought of Clarisse gave you the confidence to speak your mind.Â
Stacy looked hurt, like she had taken a punch to the gut. âWhat are you talking about?â
âYouâre around, like all the time. Iâm not saying I donât like being with you, because I do, but now I canât even hang out with my friends without you there? I need my space.â
If Stacy knew that there was something more you werenât letting on, she didnât show it.
âYou want space? Okay, weâre done.â The next second, she was out of your cabin and running toward the forest.Â
iv. iâm a sucker for the wicked Â
Since the breakup, you had taken to embracing your newly reinstated alone time. Today was unusually warm, so you decided to soak in the sun by the water. After setting up your picnic blanket, now for one, you laid down and opened a book you had been meaning to start for a while.Â
You didnât get very far before a shadow cast itself over the pages, causing you to get up. âHey, what are youâ?âÂ
âRelax, pretty girl. Itâs just me.â Clarisse smiled at you. You immediately sat back down. The two of you settled into quiet.Â
You took the opportunity to admire her features. It had only been a few weeks since you were last face-to-face, but something about her had changed. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself, or noâ the way her eyesâŠ.
âHow have you been?â She broke the silence.Â
âUh⊠good. And you?âÂ
âNot bad, I heard about the breakup.â
âOh, thanks.âÂ
âI didnât say sorry.â Clarisse grinned, but you could tell she meant it. âI never liked her very much.â
âReally? I couldnât tell.âÂ
Now, the two of you were laughing, together for once. You felt light, free, for the first time in months. The slight breeze made Clarisse's curls over her shoulders.
âWhat are you doing here?â you asked.Â
âYou want an honest answer?âÂ
You nodded. You were tired of staring at your ceiling at night and wondering if there was ever anything between the two of you.
âAfter that Capture the Flag game, I realized that my feelings for you werenât going away. But I also thought that Stacy wasnât going away either, so I had to give you your distance. It was more for me, than anyone, Iâm sorry if that was selfish.âÂ
âClarisseâŠâ
âYou donât have to say you like me back or anything, I know Iâm not your type. But I donât think I can move on without letting you know firstââÂ
âClarisse,â you interrupted her. âStop.âÂ
She stared at you with her brown eyes and smudged mascara. You donât think youâve ever felt like this about Stacy, about anyone. Looking over to your side, you pluck a daisy out of the ground and carefully place it behind Clarisseâs hair.Â
âI like you too, tough girl.âÂ
You make a mental reminder to make fun of her for blushing later, but right now, she looks perfect. You take advantage of her flustering and lean in to connect your lips with hers.Â
Clarisse is fairly sure sheâs made an eternal enemy out of Aphrodite now, but she couldnât care less. She just leans in to deepen the kiss, biting at your bottom lip gently.
â
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hii not to pressure just wanted to know around when is the 2nd part of shapeshift coming out
hi love! itâs been a bit busy for me but it should be out towards the end of this week <3
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the way that luke tried so hard to get percy to join him in comparison to him plotting percyâs death via scorpion in the books is tbh so so good for story building. percy doesnât understand lukeâs motivations this early in the story so seeing luke beg percy and try to get him to understand is just so painful and makes the betrayal hit so much harder
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canât find a good screenshot rn but clarisse ate up her 5 seconds of screentime⊠that death stare? YEAH.
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all i know is pain. goodnight.
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luke castellan on my screen tonight
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i am not mentally and emotionally prepared for tonightâs episode yâall. genuinely going to need to take time off from classes for the rest of the week đđđđ
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â YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL â | LUKE CASTELLAN
pairing : luke castellan x reader (no parent mentioned)
summary â being the partner of luke castellan was a blessing and a curse, mostly a blessingâ you had the best swordsman at camp and he was extremely loyal. a blessing really, but everyone always wanted him too. sometimes you forget that he could feel insecure too.
warnings : insecurities (relationship + scar) , petnames (baby, sweetheart, love) , hurt/comfort , luke is standoffish and implied to be mentally ill but reader loves him anyways , mentions of other ppl flirting w luke !!
aïŸn â i want to smother this man in the biggest kisses ever ... he didn't deserve anything that happened to him & he's innocent !!!! it's never said who readers parent is but they don't reside in hermes cabin :) ,,, also i made the scar worse !!!! i wish it was bigger & more gnarly everyday . enjoy !!!!
you felt burned by the sun everytime he was around, even with his stoic nature and go with the flow personalityâ he always seemed to burn so bright when you're around. his palms melted you everytime he pulled you into a kiss, his lips hot and slick with spit from his chewing.
his constant even tone (he'll deny when the sass slips through) never bothered you, in fact you quite enjoyed it whenever he spoke. his raspy voice telling you briefly about his day, or talking about a race him and chris had that day, even when he told you not to worry about him.
other people sure seemed to enjoy him too, boys and girls gathered around him like a moth to a flame. his glow always too bright for others not to be drawn, you always saw itâ the way girls would giggle and fawn over him, whenever boys lingered around him during activities.
you never told him how it bothered you, because it wasn't really his faultâ he was just too perfect.
which is why it shocked you when you began noticing the way he liked keeping the helmet on even after capture the flag, hiding his face until it was deemed inappropriate. the way he favored resting his scarred side in your neck compared to his other, even though he complained of neck pains the day before.
you can't recall when he began doing these little habits, maybe ever since he got the scar, maybe when a younger camper said it made him look scary. you didn't know, but you knew that it wasn't good for himâ the way he allowed himself to ache just to hide it.
luke is a great boyfriend, he recognizes when people want something more from himâ he's not afraid to distance himself from others when he notices the flirting. it doesn't make him feel good to have that spotlight when you were so much better than him, in every sense of the word.
he never knew how to tell you that he knew. how he knew that the obnoxious flirting hurt you, or how you always backed away when his friends came over.
he would always come in the morning to pick you up from your cabin, hoping that his searing kisses and warm arms could show you that he's yoursâ even with a disgusting face.
the scar taking up the side of his face made him curl away in disgust whenever he saw it, he completely avoided bathroom mirrors because of it. he hid away from your soft eyes at any chance he could, fearing that you'd realize just how scary it is to date something like him.
the praises eased in slowly, but surely, he almost felt winded the first time he heard it ("baby get your pretty face over here!" you had said, trying to wave him over to your table. he felt lightheaded and nauseous when he walked over.) he didn't know how to handle it.
whenever he tried to ask why you began getting so verbally affectionate, he was waved off with a small wave and shrug. "can't i compliment my boyfriend?" you had asked him with a teasing tone, he hid away under your shirt the rest of the night while he got teased.
you knew that he was confused, but you didn't really care to explainâ he'd just shut down and ignore the problem if you did. and you liked complimenting him, especially when he gets flustered like he does.
calling him pretty made his cheeks go red, and he always seemed more spacey after. calling him handsome always got him smiling and hiding his face. cute? he was looking away and blushing. adorable? he scoffed and smiled. gorgeous, he rolled his eyes and flicked you with red ears.
you hadn't called him beautiful yet, waiting for the perfect momentâ you'd think you were planning on proposing with how calculated you were with this.
luke hadn't been sleeping well for a while, mumbling in his sleep about nonsense you couldn't understand. stress had clearly taken its toll, and he's chewing againâ his lips raw and almost always bloody from his teeth snagging at the skin.
you snuck into hermes' cabin during the night, hoping that he would be up to sneaking out or even finally getting a full night's rest. your boots made him shoot up, sweaty and eyes wide before he realizes its you.
"what're you doing here, love?" he asks in a hushed tone, not yet a whisper but close. you move closer, gently lacing your hand together with his sweaty one. "wanna sneak out?"
the question was whispered, barely audible even. but it made him stand up all the same, sweatpants and cream colored long-sleeved shirt bunched up at the arms, making him look ethereal.
"are you that needy, sweetheart?" he asks as a joke when you've successfully escaped the cabin without waking people. his eyebrows wiggling slightly, his usual stoic facade melting off him like you were a candle and he was wax.
you rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you told him no. tugging him along the camp grounds until you found the picnic blanket, the basket of food right next to it all neatly set upâ it took you a whole week to convince people to help you find this stuff, a demeter kid had to weave the basket.
"ta-da!" you said, doing jazz hands as you showed him the comfortable blanket. he didn't say anything, only smiling wide as he laid down on itâ he patiently waited for you to get the food out, not feeling any sort of rush as he allowed himself to relax.
you hand fed him strawberries, flicking his nose every time he tried to stick your fingers in his mouth. you admired him in the moonlight, he always looked the best at night. his radiating self was enough light for you anyways.
your fingertips gently brushed his face while he was eating, chewing a piece of cake when he felt them. your fingers making their way to his big scar, tracing the jagged edges of it along with the smooth, raised middle.
"what're you doing?" he says, his voice tight in his throat as he tried to ignore the building pit of fear in his stomach.
you hummed, caressing his face as you looked at him. his eyes focused on your nose to avoid eye contact, "you're beautiful," you whisper.
"extremely beautiful." and his face goes red, his eyes watery as his chest rises up and down in deep breaths. his hands are shaky and pulling you closer, desperate for you and your touch.
it makes you really wonder, how could he ever feel insecure when you're convinced he could be cursed by aphrodite herself, and you'd still see his face when camp visits the gods?
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NO EXACTLY YOU GET IT.
just started watching in the know for charlie and his voiceâŠ. iâm being so normal about itâŠ.
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his first lines being about banging a couple??? thatâs my bisexual king idk
just started watching in the know for charlie and his voiceâŠ. iâm being so normal about itâŠ.
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just started watching in the know for charlie and his voiceâŠ. iâm being so normal about itâŠ.
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the thing about steve harrington is that he's one of the most compelling characters of all time. he starts the show an extremely popular jock and now he's got two friends: a girl he had a crush on that turned out to be a lesbian and a fourteen year old. the only fight he's ever won in his life was against a soviet spy. he keeps a bat full of nails in his car. he barely graduated high school. he beat up a racist. he's terrible at flirting. he has daddy issues. he spends an entire season wearing a little sailor outfit, hat included. and he's even bisexual
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i hope you know i saved this fic for the end of the week as a reward for myself.
Itâs who you areâalways a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your motherâs daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you.Â
THEY'RE SO MIRRORBALL GOLD RUSH CODED I'LL CRY.
Paint. Itâs leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Lukeâs cheeks in the sun.Â
when phoebe bridgers said "if you're a work of art, i'm standing too close, i can see the brushstrokes..." yeah....
âI had this whole dumb thing planned out where Iâd wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.â
LUKE YOU STOP IT RIGHT NOW. I SCREAMED.
perrie lovie this was brilliant as always. don't even get me started on all the color motifs... you are a genius. OH and sorta random but i was listening to instrumental music while reading this and the bundle of joy song from the inside out movie came on... and it was perfect for the second half of this fic :')
Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo
Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this đ€Ąđ€Ąđ«¶
true colours; luke castellan
wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader
synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.
warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending
notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also iâm pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everythingâs fairly accurate!đ
You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky.Â
This year, there were two.Â
As a child of Iris youâre technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls.Â
Youâd probably move in there permanently if it werenât for Hermes. Or rather, his son.
Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love.Â
It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day.Â
It used to bother you less. Youâve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. Youâd basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen.Â
Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility.Â
Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. Heâs spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sortsâadmittedly a little uglyâbut heâs never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him.Â
Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you.Â
âDonât be nervous,â he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. âYou just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.â
(You came in fifteenth.)
You donât want to say that itâs him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?
Itâs all youâve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellanâs endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away.Â
âYou alright there, sunshine?âÂ
He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile.Â
âYep,â you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know heâs saying it ironically.
Youâve always had a gift for identifying colour. Itâs the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So youâve memorized the way Lukeâs eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when itâs hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but youâve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabinâalways with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up. Â
The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip youâve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you.Â
Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes.Â
âHey, Castellan!â Someone calls.Â
Lukeâs head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. Sheâs all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and itâs obvious she knows it. You donât know her name. But Luke does.Â
They fall into conversation the second she arrives. Itâs just greetings, pleasantries, but thereâs a coy smile on the girlâs face that betrays any sense of disinterest. âHeard youâre not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?â Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Lukeâs shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. âIâm sure youâll have a better chance with us.â
He lets out a strained chuckle. âDunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.â
Just like that, youâre out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. Theyâre all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when youâre popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting itâs a challenge not to fall in love with him.Â
So you canât blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. Itâs not like youâve staked your claim on Lukeâno one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know youâll never stop someone from taking him first. Itâs your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice.Â
You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that itâs nobodyâs fault but yours. These people canât be doing this on purpose. Itâs just who they are. Itâs who you areâalways a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your motherâs daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you.Â
Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. Heâs not nearly as captivating as Luke isâyou donât find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. Thereâs also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, âWhat the hell do you have on your face?â
It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. âUh, what?â You stammer.Â
Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. Youâre pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.
Paint. Itâs leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Lukeâs cheeks in the sun.Â
âOh,â you say dumbly. Itâs drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, âWhy didnât you tell me?â without sounding too hurt.Â
You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. âI thought it lookedââ
He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. âOh my Gods, youâre that Iris kid thatâs always singing, right?â She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. Thereâs something in there you canât quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. âYouâre, like, really good!â The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh.Â
âOh, so good!â Another friend piles on.Â
Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear.Â
You donât look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and youâre sure heâs enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Lukeâs closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesnât take. Now, it feels like youâve dreamed it.Â
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girlâs ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. Heâs suffocatingly smug when he grins, âWhy are you still here? Shouldnât you go ⊠wash that off? You donât want to look like that at dinner.â He snorts. âFor an Iris kid, you really arenât good at taking a message.âÂ
If you were a more confident person, maybe youâd point out how that didnât really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and youâre weak enough as is.Â
"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Lukeâs skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink.Â
You havenât talked to him since.Â
Itâs been a few days of you avoiding him, and itâs hard to explain to anyone why youâve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are ⊠a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know thereâs no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too.Â
âWhy havenât you been talking to Luke?â
The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. Youâve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like youâre at camp and more like youâre in a fairytale.Â
âHelloooo, lady, I asked you a question.â
You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like theyâre a bunch of unsavoury substances. âIt looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why arenât you talking to Luke?â
âHow do you know Iâm not talking to him?â You mutter as Lee sits beside you.Â
âUh, because youâve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you donât sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other directionââ
âLee!â
âIâm just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.â He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.
You donât say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. âHe waits for you, you know,â Lee continues, quieter. âIn the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if youâre here.â
âOh,â you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you donât seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Lukeâs ear. All her shades of beauty. You know itâs wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. Youâre just ⊠sad.
The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you donât have to hear what you say next.Â
âI think I love him, Lee.â And then, âBut I donât think he loves me.â
Thereâs no sound except the scraping of your brush when itâs run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek.Â
âOh,â Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin.Â
âYou want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?â He asks after a minute. âOr at least ⊠come to the bonfire song?âÂ
âNo to the first, yes to the second.â
You wish you said no to both.Â
The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth canât hide Lukeâs gaze peering over the embers.Â
He will not. Stop. Looking at you.Â
The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight itâs just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.
Now youâre acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. Thereâs an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:
You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there.Â
Itâs dark, but youâve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you donât get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way.Â
Luke, calling your name.Â
At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, âCome on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?â
Heâs got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks itâs practically in your ear. âHey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.â
Thereâs something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you wonât have the strength to talk to him.Â
His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You canât meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear.Â
âLook at me,â he repeats. âI justâI need to know what I did wrong.â
His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much youâve missed studying his faceâthe slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that heâs missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.
âWhy are you ignoring me?â He asks.Â
âIâm notââ
âYou are. I know you. Just tell me why.âÂ
He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it.Â
âDo you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?â You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. âThe thing, with the paint on my cheekâwhy didnât you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!âÂ
His face falls. âI tried to tell you, I thoughtââ
âItâs okay to say you donât like me, or that youâre embarrassed, or whatever, but I âŠâ You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. âEveryone makes fun of me. I donât know why you donât.â
âBecause I do like you,â he states, hand moving up to your forearm.Â
âDonât say that,â you whisper. âYouâre so much ⊠better, you know you are, and I donât want your pity, or your spare time. I justâI made something up in my head that wasnât there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and Iâm really, really sorryââ
âIt looked cute. I was trying to say I didnât tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.â
Thereâs a lull.
âWhat?â You blink stupidly.Â
âI know I shouldâve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didnât think weâd run into anyone before then.â His cheeks tinge red. âI had this whole dumb thing planned out where Iâd wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.â
His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, âWhy?â
A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. âWhy do you think?â
His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. âBut the girlââ
âShe tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,â he smiles fondly. âTold her you made it for me. It shut her up. I donât know what that guy said to you but I chewed âem all out the second you left. They knew I wasnât happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."
You donât know what to say. Itâs too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.
âI found the paintings,â he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. âThe ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, thereâs no one in the world that can make me look that ⊠beautiful.âÂ
The last word is apprehensive but itâs spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think youâre dreaming. âI knew I had to tell you after that. Iâve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.â
âTell me what?â Itâs a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty.Â
âYouâre really gonna make me say it?â He cocks his head, but you nod. âIâm in love with you, I think.â
The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you canât seem to control what comes out. âLuke, are you joking?â
âNot even a little.â
âBut youâve got so many otherââ
âI want you.â
âI am literally the most incompetent person alive; I canât sing, I canât talk to people, I have a weird kneeââ
"Your knee is fine!"
"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it'sâ"
âOkay, clearly the telling thing isnât working so I guess Iâm just gonna have to kiss you.â
It happens so quickly you donât have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised âohâ before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. Heâs gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panicâwhere should you put your hands? How do you know youâre doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in.Â
He starts to smile against your lips. Youâre almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think youâre going to evaporate. âI donât think Iâm very good at this,â you whisper.
âYouâre perfect.â He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. âAnd none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, youâre definitely a better singer than me.â
Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You canât help but laugh. âOkay, maybe you have a point.â
He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. âNext time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.â
You blush harder than you ever have in your life. âOnly if you try painting me,â you say quietly.
âOf course. Youâre very pretty, so Iâm sure my horrible artistic skills wonât even make you look bad.â
Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all itâs worth.Â
In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.
When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.
She's given you two more rainbows.
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a beautiful hello to one of my favourite authors đđđ„čđ„č how are youuu
hello lovely iâm doing well! itâs been a while how are you! đ
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actually going insane over shapeshift ive been obsessed w that song forever and im also obsessing over clarrise rn love ur writing sm đđ«¶
eee yes the song is so insanely good and underrated too. thank you sooo much đ€đ€đ€ :â)
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me personally, if clarisse called me pretty girl iâm FOLDING immediately
and clarisse praying to ares is also crazy like she does not want to interact with him more than she has toâ but for you? she just might.
SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE
pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader
summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.
word count: 2.1k
author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3
i. i think you have a type, and it's not me
Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset.Â
She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldnât help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance.Â
Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girlâs sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.
The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisseâs mascara was always smudged and accessories that didnât double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldnât just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to.Â
It wasnât for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didnât want to get too close to you because, wellâ what would she even say to you?
Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together.Â
Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen.Â
ii. mold me how you want me to be
Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didnât know it, she had become Clarisseâs number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasnât fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphroditeâs daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet.Â
Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?
At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didnât want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?
Clarisse didnât pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.
Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they werenât known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat.Â
And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didnât like the sound of it.
iii. kill anyone if you ask me toÂ
A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focusedâon winning the game and your heart.
Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harmâs way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasnât going to let this opportunity pass.Â
After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabethâs team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag.Â
As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her.Â
âShit, Y/N, you scared me.â It was just you. Waitâ it was you.
âIâm sorry, didnât mean to,â you responded, your hands in front of you.
Clarisse almost couldnât believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.
âIs something wrong?â Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post.Â
âUh, no. I- um⊠heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say Iâm sorry,â you smiled nervously.Â
âWhy?â
âWhyâŠ. am I sorry?â
Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didnât know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy.Â
When she didnât respond, you began backing away. âLook, Iâm sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.â
âNo!â Clarisse began panicking. âI didnât mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? Weâve never had a real conversation before.âÂ
âDoes it matter?â She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything.Â
âNo, I guess not,â Clarisse couldnât help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she wouldâve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.
âGreat,â you beamed in return. Clarisseâs eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. âI havenât seen you around lately,â you broke the silence.Â
âWhat do you mean? Iâm always around,â Clarisse stammered for an excuse.Â
âWell, sure. Itâs a small camp.â You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. âBut I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.âÂ
Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. âOh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know youâre always with Stacy nowââÂ
At the mention of your girlfriendâs name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly.Â
âY/N, watch out!â Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didnât want to risk accidentally cutting yourself.Â
âIf you know whatâs best for yourself, let her go.â Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldnât see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisseâs spear getting dangerously close.Â
âAnd what if I donât?â they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, sheâs always been able to sense fear in peopleâ mostly because she is the one that invokes it.Â
âI donât think you want to find out,â she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camperâs side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground.Â
âShit!â the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. âYouâre not supposed to actually hurt me!â You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids youâve seen hanging around Luke.Â
âNow, whatâs the fun in that?â Clarisse laughed. âBesides, the spearhead is blunt. Youâll be fine, drama queen.âÂ
The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. âAre you okay?â
âYeah, I think so.â You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down.Â
âClar, come on, Iâm fine.âÂ
âAre you sure? Let me just get a look at you,â she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you.Â
Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. âAre you sore? Did they leave a mark?âÂ
âNo, I donât think so,â you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisseâs breath hitch. âWhat? Whatâs wrong?â You were fully sat up now.Â
âN-nothing!â Color rushed into Clarisseâs cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly.Â
You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. âThanks for saving me, tough girl.âÂ
âOf course.â Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. âAnything for you, pretty girl.â The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisseâs eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at youâ
âOh my god, babe! Are you okay?â Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up.Â
âStacy! Howâd you know something was wrong?â You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume.Â
âSilly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,â Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses.Â
Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. âOh!â Stacy turned toward her. âClarisse, I didnât see you there.âÂ
âI wouldnât be standing here if it werenât for her,â you said, sensing Clarisseâs uneasiness.Â
Now, Stacyâs face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it.Â
âWell, thank you,â she responded tersely. âCome on, letâs get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.â Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around.Â
Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away withâ not from.
That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.
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