#ocs: rue

[doodlebun]

refs for the two protagonists+four main antagonists of STAR POWER, my goofy little story abt singing competitions and how stupid they are and also about rich assholes trying to open a portal to hell

taffy was made by @bwooomscratches :) woerm

[rxseinbloom]

I think misspelling the tag for a story about a dyslexic demigod and then that tag trending is something that can be so personal

[lecsainz]

˒ ⌕ CUTE MOMENTS

summary: some cute moments if you were dating one of the characters from the riordanverse.

an: my inspiration is running low 😭

( my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

˒ ⌕ CLARISSE LA RUE

Clarisse returned to her cabin after a day of training, only to find you cozily wrapped up in her oversized hoodie. The sight made her heart skip a beat. "Hey, that's my hoodie," she grinned, a playful glint in her eyes.

You looked up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "I hope you don't mind. It's just so comfy."

Clarisse chuckled, walking over to you. "Nah, looks better on you anyway." She slid her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. "Besides, it's not like I mind sharing with my girl."

You blushed at the affectionate words, leaning into her embrace. "You're the best, Clarisse."

"Damn right, I am," she teased, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. "But you make my hoodie look even better. Maybe I should let you borrow it more often."

˒ ⌕ PERCY JACKSON

Percy returned to his cabin, tired after a day of training and quests. As he entered, he noticed a familiar figure curled up on his bed. It took a moment for him to register, and when he did, a surprised smile crept onto his face.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" he whispered, not wanting to wake you.

You stirred, blinking sleepily at him. "Hey, Percy. I...uh, might have dozed off waiting for you."

He chuckled, finding your presence more delightful than any surprise. "You're adorable when you're asleep, you know that?"

You blushed, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "Sorry for intruding. I'll go back to my cabin."

Percy shook his head, moving closer. "No way. You're staying right here." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back onto the bed. "This is the best surprise ever. I wouldn't want to come back to an empty cabin anyway."

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling completely at ease. "I might have left a surprise for you too."

Percy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What's that?"

With a sly smile, you pulled out a small bag of blue cookies. "Blue chocolate chip cookies. A little something I whipped up for you."

Percy's eyes lit up, and he grabbed one eagerly. "I love you, you know that?"

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and Percy's laughter filled the room. He placed a gentle kiss on your blushing cheek.

"I love your cookies and you," he teased, his expression softening. "I mean it, Y/N."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you replied with a shy smile, "I love you too, Percy."

˒ ⌕ LEO VALDEZ

Leo couldn't help but grin as you fussed over a small scrape on his arm, your eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, Sunshine, what's with the worried face?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You sighed, "Leo, you need to take better care of yourself. You're always getting hurt."

"Ah, it's just a little scratch. I'm practically fireproof, babe," he teased.

You rolled your eyes, but your concern persisted. "Seriously, Leo, let me help. I don't want you getting hurt all the time."

Leo's expression softened as he looked into your eyes. "Alright, alright, Nurse Y/N, do your thing."

As you rummaged through a first aid kit, Leo couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked, completely absorbed in caring for him. The thought crossed his mind – he was the luckiest demigod in camp.

When you returned with antiseptic and a bandage, Leo flashed a sly smile. "Does this mean I get a kiss for being a good patient?"

You blushed, trying to hide a smile, and replied, "Leo Valdez, you're impossible."

He winked, "But you love it."

˒ ⌕ LUKE CASTELLAN

As moonlight spilled across the camp, you emerged from your cabin, a sheepish expression on your face. Luke, who was sitting by the fire, noticed your arrival.

"Hey, couldn't sleep again?" he asked, sensing your restlessness.

You nodded, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. "Yeah, I thought... maybe I could sleep with you tonight? If that's okay."

Luke's eyes lit up, and he patted the space beside him. "Of course, come here."

You settled beside him, feeling the warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of Luke. As you nestled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

"Much better?" Luke inquired, his voice filled with tenderness.

You nodded, appreciating the security of his embrace. "Thanks for always being here, Luke."

He smiled down at you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Anytime, sweetheart. I love having you in my arms."

˒ ⌕ ANNABETH CHASE

You were quietly sketching in your notebook, capturing the essence of Annabeth's features with each stroke of your pencil. Lost in the moment, you didn't notice her approaching until she peeked over your shoulder.

"You drawing something interesting?" Annabeth inquired, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

You looked up, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Maybe," you replied cryptically, revealing the sketch of Annabeth you had been working on.

Annabeth's eyes widened as she saw herself on paper. "You... you drew me?" she asked, a hint of surprise and shyness in her voice.

You looked up, a warm smile on your face. "Guilty as charged. Couldn't resist capturing your beauty on paper."

She blushed, clearly not accustomed to being the subject of someone's artistic attention. "I didn't know you could draw so well."

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Wise Girl."

Her blush deepened, but she couldn't hide the small smile that played on her lips. "Well, keep drawing, then," she said, feigning nonchalance.

˒ ⌕ JASON GRACE

You sat in front of your vanity, engrossed in the process of applying makeup. The soft hum of a song played in the background as you carefully blended shades on your eyelids. Unbeknownst to you, Jason lay comfortably on your bed, observing your every move.

"Wow, you really know what you're doing with that stuff," he remarked, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips.

You turned to see him lounging there, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm just experimenting. What do you think?"

Jason propped himself up on his elbows. "You don't need any of that to look amazing, you know?"

You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks at his sweet comment. "You're biased."

He chuckled, getting up and walking over to you. "Maybe a little, but you're beautiful with or without makeup."

With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. "I'm the luckiest guy to have you," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss that lingered, leaving you with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

[shepscapades]

Souls in the Sand: Concept Art

As I’ve mentioned here and there, I’ve spent the last two years developing an original story inspired by a small Origins+Empires server a few friends and I started planning. The more I developed plans for my empire to be a sprawling overgrown cityscape of ruins and stone framework inspired by the nether, the more I built up this backstory for the character I wanted to play, a small deerfolk boy named Esra. From there, and over months of working and reworking the story and its characters, I’m proud to say I’m coming up on a 100 piece gallery for my Masters Exhibition to display this story in the form of a song-inspired comic, titled: Souls in the Sand.

Over the next month and beyond the date of my exhibition in April, I wanted to start sharing my work here! I thought it would be fitting to first share all of the concept work I did for the characters last semester as I took each character from their old lineup and reworked them from scratch to see if there were any designs I could make more unique or appropriate for the story. This process consisted of four stages: silhouettes, full-body mock-ups, face and head shapes/designs, and experimenting with the final characters’ designs with a set of unique expressions that best fit their personalities and narrative role.

Since each character was reworked separately, the “new” concept lineup is a little disjointed (and some of the characters’ faces actually ended up different from their full-body designs), but I thought it would be fun to line them up to compare the overall cast to their old designs. With each character(s) I post the concept process for, I may share little bits of the work I’m doing or talk a little about their narrative roles as I go, but for now, have Esra!

I know I don’t post original work here often, but I wanted to share parts of this journey with you guys because it’s been very meaningful to me! And I hope all of the work I’ve been doing may at the very least serve as a bit of inspiration or encouragement for us to keep making silly minecraft stories, to keep drawing the characters we love, and to keep being creative in whatever way is meaningful! <3

[jaythenugget]

clean ref for Rue's appearance throughout acts + some sketches o7

i really really really want to talk about my durge, but maybe not in this post..., the only thing i will say is that her previous name used to be Avae, but she never ended up reclaiming it, since she wants nothing to do with her past self. Rue was a chosen name and she's more than happy to be called such <3

[hoakaikapo]

ATTRACTION - Clarisse La Rue x Unclaimed! Fem! Reader

summary: you and clarisse don’t get along, but you both can’t deny that there’s some sort of attraction between the two of you.

warnings: mention of blood

a/n: LOL, sorry this is a huge huge rush draft because i’m working on my ff of clarisse but i just needed to write this out. enjoy!!

—————-

The feeling of a metal blade burned throughout your body as it made contact with your skin. You looked down, blood gushing out of the newly formed wound. It was deeper than your usual cuts. You grunted at the sight of it. You were used to this feeling of getting injured in whatever you did, so you let it bleed out as you charged back at your opponent. You weren’t going to let a measly little cut get in the way of your soon-to-be victory.

You were unsure what was burning in you today to crave victory this badly. Maybe it was because you felt discouraged that she had yet to be claimed. Maybe it was the urge to prove your worth amongst your fellow campers. Maybe it was because your natural nemesis, Clarisse La Rue, was your opponent, the only thing standing between your victory.

The sound of your swords clashing against each other was like music to your ears. You could make up the symphonies in your head, the movement mimicked that of a passionate musician playing their chords. You found sword fighting similar to watching a symphonic orchestra, ones that your mother would take you to when you were younger. You imagined the violinist: their bow gliding across the strings like how a swordsman would glide their sword through their enemies. You imagined the pianist: their hands striking each key like a fighter using their weapon to protect themself and fight back. You saw how each component played into each other, how they created the perfect symphony.

For you, these movements would create your victory.

As much as you hated Clarisse, you also hated to admit that your arch nemesis sword skills were remarkable. In your opinion, Clarisse was an even better fighter than yourself. The only thing that kept her from winning half of the time was her extreme lack of strategy. But, given that she’s the daughter of Ares and extremely hot headed, you figured that strategy never really ran in Clarisse’s blood. You figured that at this point in your sparring, Clarisse would have found some way to cheat her way to a victory. Surprisingly, she was fighting fair and square the entire time.

The arena was packed as far as you could see out of the corners of your eyes. A few campers have to sit on the stairs. You never understood why everyone anticipated this fight. You and Clarisse fought almost all the time in every single encounter you had with each other since you arrived at Camp Half-Blood. However, you figured that maybe the fact that it was for a title or proper victory made it really appealing to the others.

“Are you ready to give up?” Clarisse teased, a sly grin coming over her face. “That cut on your arm looks nasty.”

“Not as nasty as you, La Rue,” You spat back at her. Clarisse growled in response.

You took your stance, repositioning yourself into a much more comfortable position where you could defend herself better. The strategy that you had been using was useless, so you quickly came up with a new one: tire Clarisse out, let her swing at you all she likes until she’s tired. Clarisse began striking her ten times harder than she previously did– as if she was trying to kill you. With every strike, you were able to block it, just barely before Clarisse would strike again. And again. And again until you had managed to swiftly roll from one of her swings which narrowly missed your head.

Finally, Clarisse was getting tired. You could see it in the way Clarisse stood before you; the rising and falling of her chest indicated that while her eyes looked slightly unenergized. You could feel your stamina rejuvenating, like lightning bolts across a stormy sky. With that, you began your counterattack on Clarisse, using your sword to strike as if creating your own symphony.

A swift kick to Clarisse’s left leg and she fell. You - clumsily - landed on top of her due primarily to your lack of balance. You held her sword over Clarisse’s throat, just a few centimeters away from making contact with her skin. You could see the rage in Clarisse’s eyes and feel her anger beneath your body. However, Clarisse did not argue or yell at you. Instead, they stayed in that position; their breathing heavy and slowed, almost in perfect sync, as the arena erupted into applause and cheers for you.

The locker room was empty. Or so you had thought. As you were dressing your wound, you noticed a figure standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“You took a cheap shot,” Clarisse’s voice was husky with anger. “Kicking me down like that.”

“Well, I’m not the one who maimed their opponent, aren’t I?” You responded and pointed to your bandage.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. “You clearly don’t know what the word ‘maim’ means since your arm is still mobile.”

“Oh, wow, I guess you do have a brain after all. Good for you.”

There was something about you that made Clarisse despise you. Maybe it’s the fact that you were remarkably good at sword fighting, especially since you had just bested her in your competition. Maybe it’s how seemingly perfect your features were. Maybe it’s the fact that ever since you arrived at camp, Clarisse could feel that something was … oddly forbidden and unfamiliar about you.

“Well, I’ll get you next time,” Clarisse said and walked over to you close enough to where you could feel Clarisse’s breath on your face. That’s another thing you hated: Clarisse was taller than you - much taller. It gave Clarisse a better advantage of being more intimidating to the other campers. “A little unclaimed child like you shouldn't have bested me anyways.”

You would have punched her right then and there. Instead, you looked up to meet Clarisse’s eyes and placed your hand on her chest. You gently began to push her backwards until the taller girl’s back hit the locker room wall and made sure your face was directly underneath Clarisse’s.

“Aww, is the daughter of Ares salty that she lost in a fight to me?” You cooed and slowly lifted your finger underneath Clarisse’s jaw, bringing it slightly closer to yours.

You noticed the taller girl became more tense. A good thing, in your opinion. You watched as Clarisse’s eyes followed your every movement. An even better thing. A slight blush arose to Clarisse’s cheeks as you glanced at her, almost doe-eyed. Lips parted slightly, You slowly came closer to Clarisse’s face.

Clarisse wasn’t sure what to anticipate. Sure, you two hated each other, but sometimes, you would have these moments where you would flirt and tease her. Shamefully, Clarisse would do the same thing. It drove her crazy sometimes, which could explain her dislike for you at some points. She could never fully explain the energy between you and her. It was far too complicated beyond just pure hatred.

“I’ll see around, La Rue,” You whispered softly into her ear before walking out the locker room, leaving Clarisse to wonder what exactly just happened.

[bogcreacher]

eclipse (alt palette below)

[lovelylivewirez]

Reopening Wounds

Speedpaint-

[f0rg0ttendaughter0fhades]

Trying to get drunk at camp halfblood is just @GroverUnderwood taking to trees, Trying to convince @PercyJackson that we do not need to go skinny dipping and watching @AnnabethChase cry over math problems??? Can @LukeCastllen come back? He knew how to drink.

[horchatahz]

Hey you sittin' there with your smug fuckface, will anything ever be good again?

-

still enamored with the @infamous-if / au where we are currently hashing out If Rue Was A Famous Angsty Rockstar tm version of them, so here's a little personal jam sesh with Polly

[miyabau]

my durge rue and his bestie barcus :) ft. gort and that other guy

[sovksluv]

LOVE IN CHAOS - chapter 1 all by yourself, sitting alone

☠︎︎ . pairing - Clarisse La Rue x fem!Nemesis!oc! Alora Blanie

☠︎︎ . summary - twelve years had been wasted -- and Alora knew that her opportunity window of freedom was closing quickly, so she mustered up all her courage, and finally escaped.

☠︎︎ . includes - sobbing/intense crying, nightmares, trouble breathing/unknown asthma attack, running away from home, oc is specified as a mixed black and hispanic girl with a name !!

☠︎︎ . word count - 3147

☠︎︎ . series taglist - @curlymeme

☠︎︎ . pjo taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

☠︎︎ . now playing - Not Allowed by Tv Girl

☠︎︎ . a/n - thank you to @curlymeme for the oc creation ! she gets just as much credit for this as me 💋 ALSO, SO EXCITED FOR THIS BTW, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT !!!!!

☠︎︎ . series masterlist

on the outside, her house was bright, standing tall, polished clean with rushed ferocity. perfectly placed bundles of flowers littering the yard, redolent with a fragrance typically only found in expensive perfumes. sat by the front door was a generic mat which mockingly read the word ‘Welcome!’ on it, with decorative cursive letters and a big red heart as the dot of the exclamation mark. the inside was supposed to match the outside. identically polished walls and fake plants that mirrored what passersby could notice from a mile away. 

that, however, was not true. things didn't always look the same on the inside as they did on the outside. the almost-too-perfectly held-up front served one purpose and served it well. to deceive. it’s not wrong to assume that a home so perfect was inhabited by a family just as perfect as its residence. so, people find it hard to believe her when the pristine little “rich” girl has something else to say about it. 

she didn’t want to speak against the judgment, having the basic knowledge that living in a comfortable house with two working parents was supposedly considered lucky. it would seem ungrateful to complain. how could she complain when she knew others weren’t as fortunate as her? kids even younger than her constantly wondered when and where their next meal would be, but not her.

her house sat tall, all the way at the top of the hill, towering over the rest of the neighborhood. there was an eerie stillness that was always washed upon the house. it was inescapable, a labyrinth of ear-ringing silence, with the not-so-occasional muffled arguments from behind her parent’s bedroom door. she didn't want to live her life surrounded by the quiet, but the yelling from the two people who were supposed to love each other were sounds she wanted to dispute.

Alora sat idly in her room, not making any noise so she could hear her arguing parents who had moved from their room, travelling through the hallway and quieting as they moved down the stairs. she never understood why they continued to stay together, especially since they argued more than they spoke. most of the time they argued about her. about how she continuously acted out, with no “real” reasons for her rebellions. her stepmother wanted to send her away to some boarding school, attempting to convince Alora’s father that it would fix her.

to be honest, the constant complaining from her stepmother had begun to grow on her father, he was considering sending Alora away to whatever school was the cheapest and the furthest. that’s why Alora had shot up the second she heard their footsteps echo downstairs. she hastily packed one small backpack full of her necessities. it was only a few hours before dark and she had to wait until her parents were far enough that they wouldn’t hear her quick movements. 

Alora knew that eventually her father would give into her stepmother’s endless whining and send her away so she had to take matters into her own hands. she was going to run away tonight. no ideas or plans, just anywhere from her evil stepmother and that unknown school she wanted to send her to. Alora would rather be anywhere than there. she wanted to leave on her terms, not because she was sent away. 

she packed lightly, having no clue where she was going or how long she’d be out. she took a few hair things, basic toiletries, and two outfits, deciding to have a three-switch-outfit routine. her bag also held the money she’d saved over the years, a Polaroid camera, a notebook with pens, and snacks and water that she snuck from the kitchen hours prior when her parents were too busy arguing to hear her. on the outside, it seemed like she was ready, but deep down, she was terrified. she had no idea what she was going to do, or how she was going to do it, but she knew there was nothing else she could’ve done. tonight was her only chance to escape.

uncomfortable silence rang through the house, and Alora paid no mind to it, then paused. it was too quiet. she didn’t hear any yelling, stomping, or door slamming. pausing her packing, she tiptoed to her door, putting her ear up to it, attempting to hear anything at all. it was still quiet for a few moments before she heard angry footsteps up the stairs. panic exploded through her entire body as she rushed to her bag, flinging it under her bed and straightening herself just as her bedroom door fell open. 

it was her father, who had collected himself almost as soon as her door was opened. he calmly walked into her room and closed the door behind him, he sat on the end of her neatly made bed, signaling her next to him. Alora didn’t listen, crossing her arms with a knowing look on her face. “don’t let her send me away, Dad. i’m your daughter!” her father sighed, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. she knew her words wouldn’t change anything. he already made up his mind. he’d always pick his beloved wife over his only daughter, the daughter who didn’t need to be sent away, but rather needed help.

“Lora-” 

Alora scoffed, “no, Dad! you always listen to her, and never listen to me! she hates me! all she wants to do is get rid of me, and she can only do that if she convinces you to do it too.” her father stood up angrily from his spot on her bed, taking a stomped-step towards her, prompting her to take an equal step back. you could see her stepmother standing behind him, leaning on your doorframe with a cocky smirk on her face. she was finally going to get what she wanted. “don’t talk about your mother like that, Alora!” he yelled at her, pointing his finger up at her face.

“she’s. not. my. mother.”

her father’s face went red with anger as he stomped out of her bedroom, her stepmother having already left, assuming Alora’s defeat. the door slammed behind him, leaving the walls around it shaking. fury bubbled deep in her stomach, leaving a dark pit inside both her heart and her soul. she was angry and her face showed it, but her actions didn’t. assuming she’d be on her way to the boarding school by morning, Alora moved quickly, perfecting every single plan she had for escaping.

sat uncomfortably on her bed, door locked, window open, and leg shaking, Alora waited. she’d be leaving any time now, just waiting for when she knew both her parents would be sleeping, unaware of the plans she was about to pursue. nerves had crept up into her stomach, having no idea what she was getting herself into. it was too late to change her mind since it was either that God forsaken boarding school or life on her own. 

she tried to convince herself that her dad could change. maybe if she begged hard enough he’d give in. maybe she’d have him remembering that that was his daughter he was throwing out, his only daughter, the daughter he was supposed to protect, through and through. nothing could change his mind. he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to her, her effervescent personality withering away over the years as she grew older. she assumed his deep but hushed hatred for her came from the abandonment of her real mother. her birth mother.

the whole reason for Alora running away was because of her father's relentlessness, his refusal to change his mind. though he was silent, he never failed to show in his face and actions the gaping hole of resentment he felt. even if he disliked her mother, he still told Alora about her. she was no stranger to the fact that her mother was a Goddess. the Goddess of justice and revenge; Nemesis. so she was aware of her lineage, which led her to believe that’s where some of her father's disapproval of her came from.

time was nearing midnight. Alora knew she should’ve felt tired, on the brink of sleep, but she was far from it. anticipation of her next moves kept her wide awake and alert. the silence of her house and her unknowing parents let her know it was time to go. she wondered if they’d go looking for her when they found she was gone. probably not, since they were going to send her away anyway. her father would probably want to look, or at least file a missing person’s report, but with her stepmother here, Alora was sure she’d find some way to convince her father otherwise.

it was a few minutes after the stroke of midnight, and Alora was hastily tying up her shoes and slipping on her warmest sweatshirt. it wasn’t winter yet, but the autumn nights tended to be cold either way, which sucked since that’s when she planned on leaving. with her bag slung over both shoulders and her bedroom lights shut off, she climbed out of her window and onto the roof

kept right in front of it, shutting the window behind her. one of her father’s ladders was previously set up right under her window, which she used to get down from the roof. she felt the chilly autumn wind run through her hair, sending chills and nerves down her spine. her hands felt sweaty and clammy as she climbed down, despite the almost-freezing air surrounding her. as soon as her Converse-clad feet touched the ground, Alora was gone, immediately running into the dark, creepy woods that sat behind her house, not once looking back. failing to notice the flick of a bedroom light going on, right where her parents slept.

it was so cold out, and Alora had no idea how long she had been running. she never stopped running. literally. not stopping to walk or jog, just constant running, without any breaks, wanting to get as far from her home as possible, filled to the brim with the fear of getting caught. one thing she knew, though, was that she was out of her home state of New Jersey and past the state line into New York. it wasn’t far, considering she lived right on the edge of New Jersey, but at least it ensured she wouldn’t be found easily. her parents would probably assume she was somewhere in their local town.

light hadn’t begun to shine yet, but she assumed it would soon, so she slowed down, deeming it safe enough to finally take a break. she was panting, desperate to catch her breath. there was a sign she noticed a few miles back, listing the upcoming gas stations and motels, which she planned on finding and staying in. money wasn’t a problem for her, as she had spent the last six years of her life saving all her birthday, Christmas, couch, and even street money. 

up ahead were the bright shining lights of a somewhat nicely-looking motel. staying there all alone made her nervous, but she had to. she had to get away from the prison that was called her home. she entered the motel check-in building with caution, purchasing a room for one night. as soon as she was in her temporary room, the door locked and lights off, with her head comfortably laying on the pillow, the way she quickly fell into a deep sleep was like she blacked out the second she was in bed.

the bright, screeching laughs of a young girl echoed around, bouncing off the dark walls of her mind. flashes of light blinked around her as she stood, slumped in the middle of a strange room. the little girl’s giggles danced delicately with those of another girl as they skipped around her, hand in hand. it was foggy and blurry around the gloomy teenager. the warm haze of the area around her was unfamiliar, it stirred the war deep within your consciousness. 

things seemed off, however, but whatever it was, was so subtle that she had trouble figuring out what it was, figuring out what was right from wrong. her laughs reflecting over the rounded walls of her mind were ethereal, spewing with remnants of the sun’s humid summer heat. Apollo was being generous – the girl thought, casting the warmth of the bright star across the backs of the three girls, despite the shadows lurking deep in the corners of the endless room. the blinding should’ve been enough for her to turn away, shield her untouched eyes from the hurtful rays.

in her isolated state, she felt nothing, hardly able to feel even herself. but, jealousy, surprisingly a common emotion within the girl, bubbled in the deep depths of her soul, and she had her mother to blame for it. i’m sorry! – she called, to no one in particular, no one who cared to listen, not as if there was anyone there anyway. she pleaded to be heard, begging for forgiveness, but it wasn’t truly her. well, it was her. but it wasn’t?

it was the little girl. an almost identical, but younger, shorter copy of the towering girl before her. and suddenly, she was aware – heavily aware, even if it was dangerous. is this a dream? – she asked, it was impossible to tell if her lips had moved, allowing the words to leave her mouth. or if it was a thought that had somehow managed to leave the confines of her mind that was in her mind. It was like a labyrinth. it scared her. no – there was no way this could be a dream, instead, a nightmare. one that she felt she was trapped in, with no doors, no windows, and no way out. 

was it possible to feel trapped in your mind? be trapped in your mind? i mean, that’s what she assumed, that it was her mind she was stuck in, feet firmly stuck to the bottomless pit-like ground. maybe her subconscious had led her into the dreams and nightmares of someone else, probably someone she knew, right? maybe it was the other little girl? that little girl who had been skipping around with – what she assumed – was a younger version of herself. 

the young girls flashed by quickly, almost like a glitch on a computer screen. having already seen her close enough, she was able to both memorize and recognize the smaller version of herself, but she was also able to get a glimpse at her nightmare version’s companion. with her fingers tightly grasping onto her friend’s, the small girl skipped around, beaming with smiles and laughter, living a carefree life. despite her young age, tight, defined curls framed her tan face, cascading down her back, and bouncing with each step of her feet on the hazy unlit ground.

she wondered who the girl was, and how she knew the miniature girl meant to represent herself. in her dream state, nothing, none of anything she’s witnessing, – herself, the other girl, the running around, the laughing. – none of it was familiar. not one noise, color, or movement sparked any form of recognition in her intellect. how could a past version of herself have such a vivid, gut-wrenching sense of familiarity, yet feel so unimaginably unfamiliar deep, deep inside her?

the confusion bouncing between the walls of her mind like a ping pong ball, making her head twist and turn with every new direction, always stranger than the one before it. it felt like long, excruciating hours had gone by, where she was just stuck in the middle of the pitch-black darkness, physically – and mentally – unable to pick up her feet and move, even just the smallest inch. She felt held back, physically tied down to the room surrounding her, hands bound, feet changed, ensuring she had no way of escaping. 

all she could do was watch the two young girls as their laughter faded to sobs, their skipping in joy to running away in fear. how quickly Apollo’s rays of sun turned into Selene’s ethereal glow of the moon. a full moon. she had pulled away from her nightmare confinement, slipping back into the real world with the echo of her past self’s ear-piercing scream, rupturing and spilling deep down to the crack already formed in her soul. oh, and the loose thump of a small child’s body dropping on the ground.

Alora flung herself up, blankets pooled around her feet, which then touched the cold floor as her body stood up, wobbling, warm tears sobbing down her face. her side of her cheap motel bed almost completely drenched in sweat, her body shivering in sync with her sobs. she searched desperately for any ounce of oxygen, though it seemed every atom had been sucked away, her lungs deflated, struggling to bounce back. 

it felt like she was dying. her heart refused to slow, even going as far as to pump more blood, increasing the deafening pounding that she heard in her head, her ears, and all around her. weak, shaky legs giving out, her body made a thud on the ground, leaving her a heaving mess on the hardwood floor. mouth wide open, head going numb from the lack of air altogether. her throat burned dry, tears cascading down her cheeks, her clammy hands clawing at her throat as if claws would appear and slice them open, any way to let air in.

she had no idea what was happening to her, or why it was happening. maybe it was connected to her dream? she didn’t know, only wanting to gain back control of her own body. scrambling to collect herself, the shadow looming outside of her room window went unnoticed as it flowed away, eyes casting a strong gaze upon the poor girl. when her body allowed the stuffy air in, she began to calm down, legs curling up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. she had stopped crying, but was sniffing like crazy, shaking, her mind so unbelievably overwhelmed that she struggled to even think about anything that just happened. she couldn’t fathom the idea of sleeping again, mind traumatized from what she had just been through.

Alora rested her chin between her knees, sat and wrapped in a tight ball. it was only the first night of running away and this is how it turns out? how is she going to survive the rest of her time alone? she was clueless, any plans or ideas she once had were long gone, floating around the dark and cold motel room. her body still shook and shivered, numbness filling herself. she had no clue what was in store for her, but only hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as the first night. oh boy was she as wrong as she was naive. 

© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work !

[ritelli-main]

Local Druid healer found the sickest of men.

[breezypunk]

Rue [they/them]

playing around with some editing :3

[shepscapades]

This is who’s sitting in ur lap. Btw

[jaythenugget]

dnd oc dump + like a smidge of dragon age + a very poor attempt at baby astraion

oh and my durge :)