đđ¨đ° đđĄđ đđđ đđ˘đŹđ˘đ§đ đŚđđ§ đ°đ¨đŽđĽđ đđ¨đ§đđđŹđŹ đđĄđđ˘đŤ đđđđĽđ˘đ§đ đŹ
⤡ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
a/n: yes I am writing for Red Rising! For now I write for Darrow, Sevro, Ragnar & Cassius
Warnings: spoilers! swears!
á´šáľË˘áľáľĘłËĄáś¤Ë˘áľ | á´šáľË˘áľáľĘłËĄáś¤Ë˘áľ á´ľá´ľ
đđđŤđŤđ¨đ° đ¨đ đđ˛đ¤đ¨đŹ
ăťThe Reaper had his eye on you ever since you met.
ăťYou weren't a Gold, or a soldier, but you wanted to be apart of the revolution.
ăťPlacing a gun in your hands made Darrow uneasy. Moreso than the others.
ăťHe was the one that taught you how to use it; Darrow found ways for you to be alone together.
ăťBut he was never honest with himself. Never let the love he had for you, be felt within him.
ăťBecause you could be taken from him. Just like so many others were.
ăťAnd he didn't know if he could survive that.
ăťSo, it wasn't until you were taken.
ăťThe heard the gunshots, then your comms failed.
ăťHis mind only played a word, a two letter word: 'No, no, no, no.' Over and over again.
ăťHe ran down to the hanger. Telling the nearest pilot to gear up. His was going after you.
ăťBut somehow your comms reconnected. You were badly injured, but on your way back to him.
ăťEveryone left the medbay when the Reaper walked in, eyes red-rimmed, he knelt beside your bed. Took your hand, and kissed your knuckles.
"You cannot do that again.," he looked you at you; his golden eyes watering.
"If something happens to you. I will not survive it. Because ... I-I ...I love you."
đšđđđđđđđđđđđ đťđđđđ ⸠Slow burn ⸠Pining & Yearning
đđđŻđŤđ¨ đđŽ đđđŤđđ
ăťHe finds you in your quarters.
ăťActing completely un-Sevro-like. His hands are in his pockets.
ăťHe's actually clean for once. No dirt or blood on his body or clothes.
ăťAnd even once the door closes, he's doesn't walk towards you. Sevro hesitates. His red eyes dart towards you then at the floor. He cannot look at you for too long.
"Sev? You okay?"
ăťHe coughs, rubbing the bag of his neck. His mohawk is perfectly done
ăťHe has a few bruises on his exposed skin. Many scars. Many, many scars.
"Yeah, yeah uh-"
ăťYou get up from your desk to walk over to him. Crossing your arms, you cock your head and wait.
"Talk."
"Right- I um..."
ăťYou give him a minute. But you start to get worried. What if he's sick? What if he's dying?
"Sevro tell me right now!"
"Fuck! Fine! I bloody damn love you! Okay?" He quiets. Then looks away, takes a breath and looks you in the eyes.
"I love you with everything I have. Everthing I am."
ăťYou stand still.
ăťAnd let out a breath of relief.
đšđđđđđđđđđđđ đťđđđđ â¸Feral Love â¸More Alike Than Not
đđđ đ§đđŤ đđ¨đĽđđŤđŽđŹ
ăťFeelings are shown differently by the Obsidians.
ăťThey are more open, more poetic in their emotions. And feeling love -
ăťIt feels more heavy ... more enveloping
ăťAnd that's exactly how Ragnar feels
ăťAs he stands face to face with you (having to kneel down to see your face) He does not smile.
ăťIt's outside, stars above you, grass below.
ăťYou had been drinking along with the other Howlers and Ragnar had pulled you aside.
ăťJust within the treeline, you watch him as he watches you. A blush blooms across both your cheeks.
ăťHis hand reaches out and touches your chest; exactly where your heart is. You gasp:
"I need to tell you," Ragnar whispers in his mighty voice.
ăťHis attention makes it hard to breathe.
"You can tell me anything, Ragnar," you reply in a hush voice, finding it difficult to keep eye contact. Ragnar doesn't find it hard at all.
"You are the air I breathe," he takes your hands in his big ones. He's warm. Even without a shirt.
"And I can't think about anyone else. You are on my mind, even during grave missions."
ăťYou laugh. But he doesn't.
ăťYou're feeling warmer and warmer. Then he pulls you closer.
"May I - may I kiss you?"
đšđđđđđđđđđđđ đťđđđđ ⸠Different Cultures â¸Soulmates
đđđŹđŹđ˘đŽđŹ đđŽ đđđĽđĽđ¨đ§đ
ăťYou only new the older Cassius, not the young, petty, dramatic Golden prince who wanted to keep the Society.
ăťNo, you met the mature Cassius; and you still hated him.
ăťWell, you called it hate. When really you were head over heels for him but didn't feel good enough.
ăťHe was the most handsome man you had ever met. Curly golden locks, tanned skin, dimples when he smiled.
ăťHell, he was nearly 7 ft tall.
ăťAnd he had such charm that you blushed 1. whenever you were in the same room with him and 2. whenever you thought about him
ăťLittle did you know, he cared about you deeply.
ăťAnd he didn't think he deserved anything good. Because Cassius was too ashamed of his past. Too ashamed of his actions.
ăťBut with more time spent together, he made you feel so at ease, that your guard started to slip
ăťSmall physical affection started; bumping shoulders while sitting next to each other. Moving the hair from your face. Sparring but getting closer then what was necessary.
ăťOne day, you two were doing your normal routine. When you turned to face him and he was already so close. Nearly nose to nose.
ăťYou let out a sound. A sound that captured how you felt inside: wrecked and devoted.
ăťHis hand cupped the back of your neck and pulled you forward. His plush lips meeting yours in a politely passionate embrace.
ăťIt only escalated when he pulled back, releasing what he had done. You didn't want to stop. So you pulled him back in. By grabbing his cheeks.
ăťHe moaned and bit your bottom lip.
ăťBreaking apart, you were both stunned. You could not speak.
ăťBut of course Cassius could -
"I have wanted to do that for weeks."
đšđđđđđđđđđđđ đťđđđđ ⸠Enemies to Friends to Lovers â¸Forbidden Love


















