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#black long sleeved shirt with red stars
callmeblake · 1 year
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(X)
Frank's back at L.S. Dunes at Mr. Smalls Theater, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania on July 20th, 2023
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hanasnx · 2 months
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DATE NIGHT — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, terry mcginnis, talon.
MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: for @xstarkillerx and his date night prompt ノ features indyfied (potentially ooc) tim drake. WARNINGS: drug mentions: weed, acid ノ suggestive content: dancing, grinding ノ ooc tim drake perhaps.
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✩ BRUCE WAYNE
outfit(s) ¡! ❞
Black turtleneck; ghurka pants; versace black leather belt; calatrava watch; loafers or chairman dress lace-ups; ballston merino gray wool socks.
location(s) ¡! ❞
He's a versatile dater, he can make any scene his scene: club, bar, concert, dinner. He's already a VIP member there with a table he owns, not to mention a proud shareholder. He can get you backstage, he knows the performer personally because they're a close friend. He's got a lot of ins places, which makes dating easy and frequent.
✩ DICK GRAYSON
outfit(s) ¡! ❞
Expensive: black t-shirt; grand seiko watch; a single stainless steel huggie earring; figaro 5mm silver chain; hopsack wide leg pants; chelsea boots; cavalli black leather belt; worn quarter length white socks.
Casual: he keeps the jewelry and t-shirt; loose fitted jeans; leather lace up boots.
location(s) ¡! ❞
His expensive dates are nice restaurants. Casual are much more frequent and range from the rare fast food stop to the movies. He's not above dancing and grinding with you at the club. Gym dates are easy, but that requires a different wardrobe.
✩ JASON TODD
outfit(s) ¡! ❞
Cargo joggers; carhartt black webbing belt; beat-up black leather biker jacket; off white t-shirt or long sleeve; alphaforce duty boots; crew length black socks; silver cross chain and he doesn't really know why he wears it; frayed leather band bracelets on one wrist; silver band rings; ear cuffs; sometimes a ratty red ball cap to keep his hair out of his face.
location(s) ¡! ❞
Public dates are very rare. Movies, or spending time at the bookstore or library with a coffee and a seat, cafés, delis. Mostly at home having a movie night or a nap.
✩ TIM DRAKE
outfit(s) ¡! ❞
Old skool black vans or vans checkerboard slip ons; mismatched holed quarter length socks; dark wash wide leg jeans; graphic t-shirt of something he's never heard of; black grommet belt; skinny hair ties and falling apart string friendship bracelets and rubber wristbands on his wrists; leather string coin pendant necklace; cartilage and first and seconds ear piercings.
location(s) ¡! ❞
Videogames at home: couch co-ops like mortal combat, mario kart, overcooked, wii sports resort, or portal 2. Ordering in everything from pizza to sushi. Popping acid and/or smoking. Keeping up with a show together, movie nights. Hanging out on the roof to watch the stars.
✩ TERRY McGINNIS
outfit(s) ¡! ❞
Brown chelsea boots; black split neckline t-shirt; washed patch pockets on dark cuffed jeans; joe rocket classic leather motorcycle jacket; timberland belt.
location(s) ¡! ❞
Clubs are his best bet because of his unusual schedule, but a fancier dinner or two is on the table as a rare and occasional treat. Also running errands together.
✩ TALON
outfit(s) ¡! ❞
Suede brown blazer; hopsack wide leg pants; white or black turtleneck; chairman dress lace-ups; quarter length black socks; burgundy leather gloss belt; silver cross chain.
location(s) ¡! ❞
Will not go out in public. Any dinners will be at your place if any actually take place. He's prone to disappearing.
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@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.
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sleepingdead96 · 4 months
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Prepared for Anything Pt. 4
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, MasterPost
Danny folded his arms beneath his head where he lay on the desert floor. The sky blinked with stars and he was so happy he took a trip out of Gotham to do this. He liked Gotham, it felt kinda like home. But it didn’t have stars. It didn’t have the expanse of clear black pinpricked with dazzling, little lights and constellations.
It was handy being able to pop in and out of hemispheres any time he pleased.
“DANNY?!” 
Oh.
Danny rolled his head to the side to see a few violently shivering vigilantes coming around a scraggly, rocky outcrop. Robin, Red Hood, and a black and blue one Danny hadn’t encountered before, wrapped their arms around themselves tightly. They changed directions to walk towards him.                                                                                           
“Oh, hey guys.” Danny raised a hand to wave lazily at them and tucked it back in place. “What are y'all doing out here?” He asked amicably, though surmised they must be on some sort of mission. What a coincidence.
Hood and the one coloured like a bruise spluttered. “US?” Hood cried a little frenetically. As they got closer, Danny could see all their teeth were chattering and their lips were starting to turn blue. 
Oh. That wasn’t good. He had been sad Orphan wasn’t here. Maybe it was better that she wasn’t.
Hood and Robin stormed closer while Bruisy followed at a slower pace. “WHAT-T A-ARE YOU D-DOING OUT H-H-HERE?! H-HOW D-DID YOU GET OUT H-HERE?! I M-MEAN. . . .WHAT?!” Hood gestured his arms bewilderedly at him. “W-WERE T-TEN C-COUNTIRES A-AWAY F-F-FROM THE S-S-STATES!”
Danny stood up and reached under his t-shirt. “Here.” He handed Hood, Robin, and Bruisy large, reflective blankets, throwing Hood off from his rant.
“. . .wha. . .” Bruisy said. The vigilantes seemed slightly confused, but didn’t hesitate to unfold them and throw them around their shoulders.
“So?” Danny raised an eyebrow.
“Our p-plane w-wrecked.” Robin grumbled venomously.
“. . .and ex-exploded.” Hood added.
Danny hummed sympathetically. 
Robin opened his mouth again. “How are you—“
“Have you contacted. . um. . . your associates?” Danny wasn’t really sure what the vigilantes called each other or what their relations were like, but they acted like teammates. They should help each other out when things like this happened, right?
Bruise sighed. “N-no signal.” The man seemed particularly tired and out a little out of it. That really wasn’t good.
“A-and all the s-supers are o-off planet.”
“The what are where? Nevermind.” Danny waved his hand dismissively and reached over his shoulder. He ducked his head a little as he withdrew a three foot metal rod from the back of his shirt.
“Uhhhh. . .” Bruise said.
Danny pulled another rod from a sleeve and a third from his pant leg.
“H-how, dude, j-just. . .just w-why?” Hood said.
Danny didn’t answer and reached underneath the back of his shirt to pull out a fourth. He stuck them in the ground straight up, making a square.
“W-what are y-you d-doing?” Robin asked.
“Building a cell tower.” Danny said and reached into his other pant leg, taking out another rod. And another. From his pocket, he pulled out a screwdriver and some screws.
“. . .N-nothing a-about you makes-s s-sense.” Hood commented.
Danny snorted.
“Y-you’re n-n-not aff-ffected by the c-cold. W-why?” Robin’s eyes narrowed at him.
“Uhhhhh. . .” Danny attached more rods together and screwed some screws. “I, uh. . .I was working out. Warmed me up a lot.” He lied. He knew it was bad. He was still going to drive it into the ground if they questioned it. “And I haven’t been here that long.”
Danny fished a large spool of wire from his back pocket and a pair of pliers from the other.
Robin watched him do it. He stared at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing further. “Meta-human.”
“Gesundheit.”
The reply seemed to take the vigilantes by surprise, but said nothing of it. They were too busy shivering and huddling on the ground, trying to warm up. At least they didn’t seem to be getting worse.
Danny pulled rod after rod from his clothes. He began to retrieve them from the dirt and sand before it became too many to say it was physically possible to have this many pieces on his person. He had to have limits somewhere. 
“. . .How d-did you k-know those w-were th-th-there!?” Hood said.
“Umm. . .I come here often. What if I got stranded and needed to call someone? Or I spotted a UFO and needed to make contact? I buried these in the sand so no one would steal ‘em.”
“. . . W-were in the m-middle of t-the d-desert. I d-don’t think you n-need to w-worry about th-that. . .”
“You found me, didn’t you?”
“. . .”
“. . .”
Dannykept attaching, and screwing, and wiring, and plier-ing, until he was finally at the top of a twenty-foot tower, and affixing transceivers to it. With the ectoplasm Danny infused into it, it should be powerful enough to work.
He had considered making them a jet, but that might take too long. This way they could get help from the nearest civilization while they waited for pick-up.
  Danny climbed back down.
Even with their masks, the baffled astonishment was clear on the vigilante’s faces. “What the heck. . .” Bruise said faintly.
Danny ignored him and flicked a switch. “Give it a go.” He encouraged the vigilantes who looked to be shaking a little less.
They shared doubtful glances and checked their tech. “It works!” Hood exclaimed and immediately sent out an S.O.S.
Danny made an offended noise and held a hand to his chest. “You doubted me?”
“Yes.” The three said in unison.
“It’s a cell tower.” Hood continued. “How do you even know how to build that?”
“Eh.” Danny shrugged. “You pick a few things up when your parents have a lab in their basement for you to play around in growing up.”
There was a long pause. 
“That is highly concerning and explains almost nothing.”
Danny’s brows furrowed.
“Seriously. How are you here?”
Danny shrugged again. “I walked.” It wasn’t a lie.
Despite explaining he had a way back to Gotham, the vigilantes wouldn’t leave without him. They slept most of the way back.
Tag List: @okami-love @whataspectaclebear @thomasdimensor @observerblock23 @stargazer-luna
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samwise1548 · 7 months
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There is a scale regarding Tmagp characters, that goes from very unhinged about the horrors, to literally couldn’t care less. But I didn’t know how to title it so instead you just get this lineup :)
Added Teddy and Celia over here
[ID: A drawing of The Magnus Protocol characters standing in a line, with captions underneath each person.
The first is Colin Becker, with the caption "known saboteur of FR3-D1 [Freddy]". Colin is a white, ginger haired man wearing a dark green shirt over a black shirt and light brown pants. He's holding one hand against a corkboard of papers and post-it notes. His expression is full of rage.
The next is Gwendolyn Bouchard, captioned "suspicious from association, Gwen Bouchard". She is a white woman with long hazel hair with small braids in it. She's wearing a red vest over a brown shirt, a purple knee length skirt and tights. There is a thought bubble next to her with a picture of a red Among Us character and the word "sus" underneath it. Gwen's face is scrunched up in speculation as she glares angrily at someone far away.
The third person is Samama Khalid, and his caption reads "Sam 'casual cyber-sleuth' Khalid". Sam is a tall, skinny, brown man with curly brown hair. He's wearing a long, dark brown corduroy shirt over a grey shirt, and maroon pants. He's walking while looking at two papers in his hands quizzically.
The next person is Alice Dyre. Her caption says "Alice Dyre; Motto: keep calm and ignore the horrors". Alice is a short fat trans woman with albinism. Her hair is buzzed. She's wearing round glasses, a brown shirt with white color and sleeves, embroidered with red flowers. Her light brown pants have a patch on each knee that match the shape of her diamond star earrings. She has her arms crossed and is watching Sam from the corner of her eyes, nervously.
The last fully visible person is Lena Kelly, with the caption "Evil! Evil!! Evil!! -erm, I mean, Lena Kelly". Lena is a light skinned old woman with blond hair put into a tail with a claw clip. She's wearing a grey business suit over a light grey shirt. She is looking directly at the viewer with a neutral expression.
To the right of Lena is a black arm waving goodbye, cut off by the edge. The caption under it reads "also, Mr. noping out of here before things get ugly, Teddy Vaughn.
\End ID]
Closeups under cut
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conchiferrous · 11 months
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lineup but i had 2 cut it into pieces #verticalwebsite but you get the idea
[IMAGE ID, IMAGE 1: A fan lineup of Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, and Sanji, in that order, all post time skip. They are drawn in a cartoony art style and deviate quite a bit from their canon designs. Luffy is looking face forward at the viewer, smiling widely, and holding a peace sign towards in front of him. He's a little shorter with cartoonishly large eyes, ears, hands, and feet. Zoro is standing with his chest puffed out to the side, fists clenched, and glancing over at the viewer. There are no major changes to his design, though he has a mullet for some reason. Nami is smiling, mouth open, and holding her clima tact with Zeus emerging out of it and floating over her head. She's drawn to be more chubby, freckled, and has a cowlick in the shape of a stem and leaf. She's wearing a green button up, that isn't buttoned at all, exposing her black sports bra and stomach. She's wearing white jeans with a berri belt buckle and her regular sandals with heel shoes. Usopp looks a little confused, and is holding the kuro kabuto, with a small plant head attached like when he uses the grow up kabuto move. Usopp's eyes are cartoonishly large and the top of his hat covers the top of his eyes slightly, acting as a second brow. Instead of a long thin nose, he's drawn with a shorter fatter nose that connects directly to his top lip, almost as if his head was a sock puppet. His skin is colored much darker than an in the anime. Sanji looks at the viewer, annoyed, holding a cigarette in one hand, and resting his other wrist on the elbow crevice of his opposite arm. He is drawn with a short torso to make his legs look longer and more spindly, with cartoonishly large hands and feet. His hair is drawn more curly to make his eyebrow, and colored a strawberry blonde. IMAGE 2: Continuation of the lineup, this one has Chopper, Robin, and Franky. Chopper is looking at the viewer, facing forward, and holding a rumble ball in his hoof. He's been redesigned to have smaller eyes and a wider nose, thick human like eyebrows, and a tricolor fur coat of brown, darker brown, and cream for the chest. His hat remains the same, and he's wearing a pink tank top that says "Yay" on it and his magenta pre-time skip shorts. Robin is standing and a three quarters angle, glancing over at the viewer. She's been redesigned to have more jagged hair with cartoonishly large hands and feet to contrast her thin limbs. Her clothes are mostly the same as her default outfit, with the jacket redesigned to have longer sleeves and show less cleavage, the pattern on her skirt simplified, and her legs and feet are drawn as if her pants and shoes are one and the same. Franky is standing face forward, smiling widely, sunglasses on, head cocked to the side, and doing a thumbs up with one of his mini hands. Simplistic chest and stomach hair have been added, matching his hair color. The chest hair is in the shape of a star. His shoulders have been completely recolored to be black with a red stripe, white lettering, and have blue flame decals on them. He's wearing his default pre-time skip shirt and black speedos. IMAGE 3: Continuation of the lineup, this one has only Brook and Jinbe. Brook is playing his guitar, has his mouth wide open, and cocking an eye at the viewer. He's wearing his sunglasses, but they're pulled down to show the tops of his eye sockets. He's wearing his default outfit, the only changes are that the back of his suit is ragged and his pants are a bit scuffed. The floral pattern on his pants have been simplified as well. Jinbe is standing with his arms hanging down, looking to side at nothing in particular, mouth slightly agape. He's wearing yellow and white robe and purple cape from the wano arc. White spots are speckled across his cheeks, sides of his neck, backs of his hands, and tops of feet, meant to resemble the spots of a whale shark. His hands have a more paw like appearance with the fingers thicker and tiny claws sticking out. END iD]
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gorgugplushie · 5 months
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Figayda . (STANDING OVATION FROM CROWD
[ID: A Digital drawing of Fig Faeth and Ayda Auegfort. Fig faeth is a half-tiefling with red skin, an arrow pointed tail, red pointed ears, dark brown hair with purple streaks, tan horns, and facial hair. Fig wears a black shirt, black pants, a nose ring, and eyebrow piercings. Fig has her eyes shut as she smiles wide, pressing her face against Ayda's with her arms on each of her shoulders. Ayda is a half-Pheonix with dark skin, Multiple eyes with black sclera and red iris with two on her face wings and multiple on her back wings, small red and orange feathers that  cover her face and neck, tall fire-like hair, orange nails, bird-like feet, and red and orange wings that sprout from her back. Ayda is wearing a white long sleeved button-down shirt, a tan scarf drapped around her shoulders, and brown pants. Ayda is sitting down against Fig's legs. She brings a hand up to caress Fig's head as she nuzzles into her. Ayda is smiling and looking up at Fig as she does. The background is dark purple, with many brightly colored green stars and bright purple textures. /end ID]
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reversedumbrella · 5 months
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teruki week 2024: happy birthday teruki
image description:
[ID: a five page comic for teruki week day 7: birthday. the first 3 pages happen inside a clothing shop's dressing room, where teru is trying multiple outfits while out of view mob comments on them. the first two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 1: fire/electricity. on the first fit, teru wears a top with a flame on it and fluffy long sleeves colored orange and yellow. his pants have five sections, each with flame designs. one red, one orange, one green, one blue and one purple. teru is wearing flipflops. mob comments "colorful." on the second fit, teru wears a green long sleeve shirt, a vest made out of fake lightning bolts, pants made out red, blue and black electric cables and boots. mob comments "zappy."
mob sits on a benchon the dressing room, right by him his flip phone is ringing. mob says "those look really good. anything else, Hanazawa". out of viwe teru replies "PLENTY! and with this years birthday money I might be able to take it all home!"
the second two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 2: school/festival. on the first fit teru is wearing a torn version of his school uniform. he smiles while rocking his head back and forth. mob comments "rock n' roll". on the second fit teru wears viana do Castelo's typical women clothing, nowadays just worn for an anual parade. red cloth on his head, large golden earings and necklaces. red shawl over a white shirl. large red apron over a black skirt. white socks and black shoes. mob comments "wow."
the third two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 3: star/copy. on the first fit teru wears a sparkly five point star around his head, star sunglasses, a pink top, jeans with two big sparkly stars over each knee and a lot of small stars all over, pink high heels. he wears bracelets similar to his head apparatus. mob comments "shinny." on the second fit there are two teru's each wearing outfits only differing in color, with only the shorts being the same. a top over a t-shirt over a long-sleeve shirt. shorts over leggings and sneakers. mob comments "maybe the shorts on the left…"
mob is sitting on the dressing room bench. his phone is either still ringing or ringing again. up to interpretation.
the fourth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 4: official art/omake. the first fit comes from official art. purple and blue cap, green jacket over a white shirt with a lemon pattern. red shorts over greyscale camouflage leggings. green and yellow sneakers. none of these colors go well together. mob comments "fun." on the second fit teru is wearing a beach outfit. shirtless with blue beach shorts and green sandals. he has colorful necklaces and bracelets. with his right he's grabbing abucket with a shovel inside. on his head he's balancing a beach ball wearing heart sunglasses. mob comments "careful"
the fifth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 5: hair/trauma. in the first fit teru is wearing a crazy wig that covers his upperbody and arms. it has four ponytails and is covered in braids. it also gives him a large moustache. he's wearing red leggings and green shoes. mob comments "hairy". the second fit is a brocolli and boots. both meet at his calves. his arms are free but his hands have smaller brocolli over them. this is the only fit mob doesn't comment on.
mob is sitting on the bench when teruki grabs him while saying "C'MON". mob replies "huh?!" and teru answers "you didn't really though i was buying just for me?!"
the last outfit was inspired by teruki week day 6: protagonist/rival. mob is the one wearing it. mob's outfit is a clash of colors and patterns. sweater with a star design around the neck. the neck is red, the star is orange and the rest of the sweater is yellow ith green stripes and dots. pink bell bottoms with bright pink stars. teru is showering mob in compliments. he drowns himself in dread thinking "i should have known kageyama-kun would have looked amazing regardless of what he wears. those clothes are too bold even for me but he dawns the clothes i picked with such ease. i have lost again. he is my rival even in fashion sense. there is no way i could have ever won against him…"
the next two apges are the aftermath of the shopping spree. mob and teru laugh and walk with multiple bags, teru carrying two and mob carrying the rest on his arms. happy, teru looks up and then at mob. he says "thank you for getting some time to spend on my birthday with me. i know you have a busy life". mob blushes and turns away saying " no problem. i like spending time with you…" mob phone rings again. teru points at it and says: "there goes your phone again". mob makes all his left arm bag levitate and uses it to open the phone. mob clarifies "just master reigen. there'sa complicated client . he keeps texting in case i need to go there" out of view teru comments "it's nice he calls in advance" to wich mob throws a side-eye. mob looks surprised at his phone, grabs teru and screams "we have to go!!" mob and teru run with the bags floating around them. teru goes up the satirs to reigen's office. out of view mob says "prepare for anything!" teru grabs the door handle and opens the door. inside reigen, serizawa, tome, ritsu and the awakening lab kids scream "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" reigen is holding a cake with 15 candles. end ID]
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butchjess · 5 months
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the jess mariano s2 outfits post.. all of his outfits for every one of his appearances including accessories and other such things found to the best of my abilities . full thing is under the read more
-repeat outfits are not included for my own sanity
*asteriks are to indicate the piece is not an exact match, but very close (couldn't find it or just not 100% sure)
S2E05 Nick & Nora/Sid & Nancy
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The Camo Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch, black with stainless steel casing + grey braided string bracelet + dark brown leather belt with Civil War union soldier oval buckle
L.L. Bean navy blue puffer vest + Rothco long-sleeve Woodland camo shirt
Levi's 568 dark wash jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
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Zip-Up Sweatshirt Fit
Nixon “The Rocker” A370 watch
Gray zip-up sweatshirt with US army staff sergeant rank insignia patch + Indera Mills navy blue raschel-knit thermal shirt
Levi’s 501 straight leg jeans*
Swiss modern combat boots
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Wet Delinquent Fit
Nixon “The Rocker” A370 watch + gray braided string bracelet
Stanfield's charcoal long-sleeve thermal waffle knit shirt
Dickies loose fit jeans (logo painted over from back pocket)
Swiss modern combat boots
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The Girl From Mars Fit
Nixon “The Rocker A370 watch + gray braided string bracelet
Gray zip-up sweatshirt with US army staff sergeant rank insignia patch + L.L. Bean navy blue puffer vest + white long-sleeved Fresno, CA motorcycle sweater*
Levi's 501 dark blue straight leg fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
S2E06 Presenting Lorelai Gilmore
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Metallica Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + gray braided string bracelet
Pushead Metallica No Leaf Clover shirt
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The Uniform Fit
Luke's season one baseball cap + Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + gray braided string bracelet
Burgundy plaid flannel + gray t-shirt
Dickies loose fit jeans
S2E08 The Ins and Outs of Inns
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Child Labor Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + gray bracelet
Hanes black pocket t-shirt* + Rothco long-sleeve Woodland camo shirt
Levi's 568 dark wash jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
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The Slacker Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch
L.L. Bean navy blue puffer vest + Tasman Empire Airways ltd. vintage red t-shirt + Stanfield's charcoal long-sleeve thermal waffle knit shirt
Levi's 501 straight leg fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
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Double Denim Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch
L.L. Bean Sherpa-lined Trucker style denim jacket + Stanfield's charcoal long-sleeve thermal waffle knit shirt
Wrangler black regular fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
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The Toaster Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet
Green long-sleeve California graphic shirt + Stanfield's white thermal long-sleeve waffle knit shirt
Levi's 501 straight leg fit jeans
S2E10 The Bracebridge Dinner
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Don't Need Your Help Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet + dark brown leather belt with Civil War union soldier oval buckle
Punk Planet magazine red t-shirt + Stanfield's white thermal long-sleeve waffle knit shirt
Wrangler black regular fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
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The Carriage Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet
Beige Sherpa-lined suede coat + black plaid button up + black undershirt
Levi's 568 dark wash jeans*
Swiss modern combat boots
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The Glance Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet
Black fatigue shirt*
Dickies loose fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
S2E12 Richard in Stars Hollow
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Innocent Boy Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + dark brown leather belt with oval Civil War union soldier buckle
L.L. Bean Sherpa-lined Trucker style denim jacket + Rothco long-sleeve Woodland camo shirt
Wrangler black regular fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
S2E13 A-Tisket, A-Tasket
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Superglue Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch
Beige Sherpa-lined suede coat* + Tasmanian Empire Airways ltd. red t-shirt + Stanfield's charcoal long-sleeve thermal waffle-knit shirt
Brown loose fit corduroy pants
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The Guy Who Brought Enough Money Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch
Beige Sherpa-lined suede coat + green long-sleeve Califronia graphic shirt + Stanfield's white long-sleeve waffle-knit thermal + black long-sleeve shirt
Wrangler black regular fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
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The Phone Call Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet
Dickies long-sleeve garage blue industrial work shirt with embroidered US flag patch (name-tag included) + black long-sleeve shirt*
Brown loose fit corduroy pants*
White socks
S2E15 Lost and Found
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The Gutter Cleaner Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet + gardening gloves
Wrangler gas station jacket (no nametag)* + Punk Planet magazine red t-shirt + black long-sleeve shirt
Wrangler black regular fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
S2E13 There's the Rub
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Construction Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet + blue pen + blue hardhat + dark brown leather belt with oval Civil War union soldier buckle
Hanes gray pocket t-shirt + black long-sleeve shirt
Wrangler black regular fit jeans
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Delivery Boy Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet
L.L. Bean Sherpa lined Trucker style denim jacket + Dickies long-sleeve garage blue industrial work shirt with U.S. flag patch embroidered on sleeve (name-tag removed) + Hanes black pocket t-shirt*
Brown loose fit corduroy pants
Swiss modern combat boots
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Navy Blue Sweatshirt Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet
Ralph Lauren Polo Sport navy blue USA fleece sweatshirt (02 embroidered on sleeve)* + Stanfield's white long-sleeve waffle knit thermal shirt
S2E17 Dead Uncles and Vegetables
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Despot Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet
L.L. Bean navy blue puffer vest + Nordstrom brown button down dress shirt + black t-shirt
Levi's 568 dark wash jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
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Diner Boy Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet + blue pen + dark brown leather belt with oval Civil War union soldier buckle
Hanes gray pocket t-shirt + Stanfield's white long-sleeve waffle knit thermal shirt
Dickies loose fit jeans (logo painted over/removed)
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Funeral Party Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet
Black fatigue shirt + white and black baseball tee*
S2E19 Teach Me Tonight
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Ice Cream Cones Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch + leather bracelet
Big Smith green diamond quilted jacket + white striped double pocket linen shirt + black t-shirt + Stanfield's white long-sleeve waffle knit thermal shirt
RVCA Americana olive green baggy fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
S2E21 Lorelai's Graduation Day
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Payphone Fit
Dickies navy blue Eisenhower jacket + gray button-up*
Levi's 568 dark wash jeans
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New York Fit
Nixon "The Rocker" A370 watch
Dickies navy blue Eisenhower jacket + Hardkore Kidd 2002 No Mercy tour shirt
RVCA Americana olive green baggy fit jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
S2E22 Can't Get Started
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The Kiss Fit
Dickies navy blue Eisenhower jacket + gray graphic t-shirt* + Stanfield's black long-sleeve waffle knit thermal shirt
Levi's 568 dark wash jeans
Swiss modern combat boots
165 notes · View notes
wynnibee · 11 months
Text
hi sorry this is so late!!! @sup-its-cat i was your secret skeleton dsklfdfk i hope you like it i put a lot of work into this <33
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[id in alt and under the cut!]
[id: a fully lined, colored and shaded piece of sup-its-cat’s Mind Roommates AU with (from top to bottom) Eclipse, Moon, Sun and then their halloween-ified sona. Eclipse is in the top right corner, with its arms held out and a wide grin on its face as it looks down at Moon. Eclipse is entirely pink-magenta, with two rows of rays; large white ones and small light light pink ones. It has puffy sleeves on its arms, one with wavy stripes, and the other with stars. Each sleeve ends with a small bow on the wrist. Large ruffles sit around its neck, and its torso is a single, solid color. Its eyes have a darker magenta outer iris, an inner light pink iris, and then a white heart shaped pupil. It has large eyelashes, with the right eye having a long curly-q lash. Jester stripes cut through its eyes onto its cheeks and eyebrows. Eclipse has a long “tail” barely visible swirling around and behind it. The tail starts at the base of its body, and swirls across the entire canvas down to Sun. Eclipse is covered in glitch effects, with a majority of them surrounding its rays and the rest on its ghostly tail. Eclipse’s entire body is glowing a bright pink and it’s semi-transparent, with one arm fading off the canvas. Next is Moon, in the middle left. He’s floating in a partially reclined position, arms held around him loosely. He has a concerned expression on his face as he looks up at Eclipse. His face is white on his crescent side and a medium blue on his shadowed side. He’s wearing his blue nightcap, with a very fluffy white band, and light purple stars. The end is shredded and missing its poof/bell. He’s wearing a light brown hoodie with dark brown zig-zag stripes at the end of the sleeves and a box pattern with a star in the center on his chest. He’s also wearing brown gloves and simple blue pants. Moon’s legs slowly turn into his ghost “tail”, though his is a bright blue and more opaque than Eclipse’s. It’s full of sparkles and a small amount of glitch effects. It curls around behind him as it swirls down the canvas towards Sun. Moon’s colors are very light, having a blue-ish hue to his entire palette. His eyes are mismatched, with blue sclera on his crescent side and red sclera on his shadowed side. He has white rings for irises. He also has large eyelashes with a curly-q lash on the right side of his face. Jester stripes cut through his eyes as well. He has sharp, pointy teeth. Then Sun, who’s standing hunched over with his arms and hands held up in clawed poses with a large, slightly snarled smile on his face as he glares at the viewer. He has a single row of large, orange rays. A couple of his rays are chipped. Sun’s wearing the same clothes as Moon is; a large brown hoodie, blue pants, and brown gloves. He has glowing white eyes and is entirely backlit with blue and pink light. He has large eyelashes, with a curly-q lash on his right side and jester stripes that cut through his eyes.  Lastly is sup-its-cat’s sona, an anthromorphic pink cat wearing a suit. It also has a snarled smile on its face, exposing sharp teeth as it glares at the viewer. It has two large horns forming a heart shape on the top of its head, and long fluffy cheeks and ears. It has a purple cravat around its neck with a bow, held together in the center with a diamond shaped purple gem. Its pink suit has exaggerated lapels that curl under themselves. Its shirt is a dark, almost black pink with ruffles around the buttons and a wrinkled waistband. Its holding its long, three clawed fingers up on either side of itself, and its long, fluffy tail curls up behind it. The cat has glowing green eyes with dark pink sclera. The cat, like Sun, is also backlit with blue and pink light. The background is a simple dark blue to magenta gradient, with a white border that has a glitching effect to it. End id.]
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highladyandromeda · 5 months
Text
Shadows of the Heart
Part 6
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions. 
WC: 3.6k
Warnings: mentions of wounds hurting, but nothing particularly graphic but it is located on the arm.
[Prologue], [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3], [Part 4], [Part 5]
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The House of Wind, perched high above the glittering city of Velaris, offered a view that could steal the breath from the lungs of gods and fae alike. Yet, the sight of the ten thousand stairs winding down to the city dimmed the splendor of the vista before Y/n. Memories of youthful races with Rhys and his sister, of nights spent laughing under the stars until they were too intoxicated to winnow home, brought a nostalgic smile to her lips. There was a particular memory, hazed with the fog of drunken mirth, of them staggering up these very stairs, each step a battle against gravity and their swirling heads, pausing periodically to empty their stomachs into the bushes that edged the ascent.
She considered, not for the first time, leveraging those memories to coax Rhys—or even Mor—into assisting her down, no questions asked. 
Cassian, too, would have offered a lift without a second thought, especially after her rigorous training session with the Valkyries that morning. But admitting, even silently, that she couldn't manage on her own was a concession Y/n wasn't ready to make. Not after her display of strength and defiance the day before. Her pride, stubborn and fierce, whispered warnings that Rhys and Mor would see right through her, and Cassian...well, Cassian might not connect the dots immediately, but word would spread.
Biting her lip, Y/n weighed her options. It was only ten thousand steps. She wasn't so frail, so weary, that the descent seemed insurmountable—though the unhealed cut on her arm begged to differ. She had concealed it beneath thin bindings and a long-sleeved blouse of pale blue, cropped at the waist and chosen in the hopes it wouldn't appear too out of place on such a warm, sun-kissed day.
"Are you headed to town?"
Y/n looked behind, half-expecting to find Azriel clad in his typical leathers, silently admonishing herself for letting him surprise her once more. Instead, she found herself caught off-guard by the casual attire he donned—a black pair of pants and a navy shirt loosely tucked in, revealing a hint of his Illyrian tattoos at the v-neck. Her gaze lingered a moment too long, tracing the intricate designs across his skin and the way his shirt clung to the contours of his well-defined chest. 
Azriel's smirk, a rare break in his stoic facade, acknowledged her wandering gaze. Before the silence stretched too thin, he offered, "Would you like a ride?"
The question hung between them, weighted with unspoken implications. Y/n turned back to the stairs, the vast descent looming before her. 
"Y/n?" His call, soft yet insistent, pulled her back from the edge of her thoughts.
He had stepped closer, almost as if drawn by her hesitation. 
"No...I mean, no thank you, Azriel,"
At the uncertainty in his gaze, she felt the need to elaborate, “I wouldn’t want to hold you up, I’ll go myself just…a bit later”
Her excuse sounded thin even to her ears, yet Azriel's offer remained, undeterred by her wavering resolve. "It would be my pleasure to escort you. They say the view is even more spectacular by air."
Y/n seized the opportunity, masking her relief with a playful curiosity. "They?"
Azriel's cheeks tinged with red, his words stumbling over themselves. "You know, Mor, Nesta, Elai—" His voice faltered, a rare display of vulnerability.
"Very well," Y/n conceded, allowing him a graceful escape from his flustered explanation. "I wouldn't want to be late for our meeting. And, I suppose it's been ages since I've seen Velaris from above. Only if it's no bother to you."
"No, it's no bother at all," Azriel assured her, his words tumbling out with an eagerness he couldn't mask.
Y/n positioned herself, lifting her arms in readiness. Azriel's touch was gentle yet firm as he lifted her, a care in his hold that sent an unexpected warmth flooding through her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resisting the urge to draw closer, to seek comfort in the strength of his embrace.
Instead, her eyes traced the tattoos she had glimpsed before, a silent admiration for the art that marked his skin. Around them, Azriel's shadows danced with a life of their own, keeping her secure and holding her hair from flailing in the wind. 
In the silence that enveloped them, Y/n could discern the faint, rapid beating of Azriel's heart, its rhythm slightly too hurried for an Illyrian warrior on a leisurely flight. But Y/n kept her thoughts to herself, knowing that her heart was perhaps skipping as well.
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Upon reaching the bustling heart of the town, Azriel gently descended, allowing Y/n to stand on her own. His arms reluctantly released her, a sense of loss washing over him as the warmth of her presence receded.
"Thanks for the ride, Azriel," her gratitude lit up her features with a warm smile.
"It was my pleasure," he managed to reply, his voice steadier than his racing heart.
Seizing the moment before doubt could diminish his resolve, he found himself suggesting, "If you'd like, I could show you around as well... around Velaris and its newer sights, after you're done with your errands, of course."
Y/n paused, her gaze sweeping over the town's lively expanse before settling back on him. "I'd like that," she agreed, a softness in her voice that coaxed a hopeful glimmer in Azriel's eyes.
"It's been so long since I've seen Velaris, I’ll meet you back here in an hour?”
As she stepped away, Azriel realized then, with startling clarity, that he had no actual business in the town. Yet, the prospect of spending more time with Y/n, of reintroducing her home seemed like the most significant task of all.
He should use this period to plan. To think about the places in Velaris that would spark interest in her eyes, the hidden corners and new developments he'd watched over from the shadows. It wasn't just about filling the time; it was about crafting moments that might bridge the gap between them.
As he lingered in thought, Azriel's attention was momentarily drawn to his shadows, which had, unbeknownst to him, begun to reach out towards Y/n's departing figure, specifically curling towards her left arm. With a subtle command, he reeled them back, a silent acknowledgment of her right to privacy. Despite his longing for closeness, he respected the boundaries between them, even those unseen.
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Y/n was ashamed to admit it, but she double-checked every reflection she saw, cautious of any lurking shadows. The idea of anyone, particularly Azriel, tracing her steps to this particular location filled her with unease. Besides, she was embarrassed at the several missed turns it took before she finally arrived at her destination. Velaris had indeed changed; the streets still boasted their characteristic cobblestone pathways and white marble houses with green roofs. Yet, the atmosphere was distinctly different—teeming with fae from all corners of Prythian. It was a strange notion, to feel like a stranger in the land she had once called her home.
This sandstone building, however, was unchanged, just as she remembered it from all those years ago, tucked away in a nondescript corner. The walls were still lined with shelves that reached up to the high ceilings, each crammed with jars and bottles of varying shapes and sizes, filled with mixtures of different herbs. In the center of the room, cozy couches were draped with handwoven throws inviting patrons to sit and bask in the tranquility of the space. The soft glow of lanterns cast a gentle light, already comforting her tense nerves. 
“Just a moment!” she heard stepping in, before being greeted by a High Fae woman with dark skin, spindrift hair now touched with grey, and brown eyes that still sparkled with an inner warmth, despite the new wrinkles framing them.
The shock of recognition was mutual. “Y/n?” the woman exclaimed.
“Madja! It’s been too long,” Y/n said, moving in for a hug.
They embraced warmly before Madja pulled back, eyeing her with a mix of suspicion and affection. “It’s never been good when you’ve entered this store,” she remarked, an eyebrow arched in playful admonition.
Y/n laughed, the sound mingling with a sense of nostalgia. “Rhys and I weren't that bad, were we?” she quipped, attempting to deflect.
“Oh no,” Madja shot back with a smile, “You both were absolutely terrible.” Her tone softened, betraying the fondness behind her words.
Memories of past injuries, ranging from the ridiculous outcomes of foolish dares to the more serious wounds acquired during brutal training sessions, flashed through Y/n’s mind. She nodded, conceding the point. “But you were always there for us,” she said, gratitude lacing her voice.
"Yes, always there—mostly wondering which of you would walk in next, and whether I'd need a broom or a stretcher."
Then Madja’s expression turned more serious. “How can I help you today, Y/n?”
Fidgeting, Y/n glanced around the shop before responding. “I’m just here to look at some herbs...” Her voice trailed off, unconvincing even to her own ears.
Madja’s gaze narrowed slightly, but not unkindly. “Planning to brew your own tonic, are we?” she teased before adding, “If you need something for sleep or pain, I can prepare it for you. Discreetly, of course.”
Caught off guard, Y/n hesitated, then muttered something about merely experimenting in her free time. However, to divert Madja’s prying eyes, she offered a truth and quickly agreed to the offer of a sleep tonic. “Yes, that...my insomnia has been relentless lately.”
Madja nodded, her expression softening into one of understanding. “I’ll prepare something for you. No one needs to know,” she assured. 
While Madja busied herself, Y/n’s gaze wandered across the shelves, laden with jars of herbs, vials of potions, and artifacts of healing and magic, feeling a bit overwhelmed. She’d never admit it out loud, but her alchemy and potions for healing weren’t particularly up to par. For poison, well she already clocked 5 different ones she could create from the herbs she’d be able to identify thus far.
But for healing, and particularly for a wound that she’d not thought twice about before, with her magic and fae heritage naturally taking care of it; she realized then that she should have made a stop at a bookstore or visited the library this morning. 
By the time she had gathered the herbs she hoped would do, Madja returned, handing Y/n a small, unmarked vial. 
“Take two drops before bed,” she instructed, her voice low. “And Y/n,” she added, her eyes meeting the sorceress's, “whatever you’re facing, remember you’re not alone. Velaris isn’t just a city; it’s home.
Y/n’s heart clenched at the sincerity in Madja’s words. “Thank you, Madja,” she said, her voice thick with gratitude. She paid for the tonic and her bundle, seeing Madja’s impartial glance as a sign that she hadn’t chosen anything too offputting.  
Stepping out of the shop, Y/n took a deep breath, the air of Velaris filling her lungs, mingling with the scents of the river and the blooming night flowers. The city might have changed, but its essence, the heart of it, remained the same—a haven for the lost, the brave, and those in need of healing.
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As the agreed time approached, Azriel's gaze was constantly drawn towards the path Y/n would emerge from. The anticipation had woven a tapestry of nerves and excitement within him, a feeling unfamiliar yet thrilling. His shadows, ever-present companions, danced around him with an energy that mirrored his own. When they alerted him to her presence, a wave of something akin to relief washed over him. 
She was making her way towards him, her steps confident, yet he noticed something different—a bag clutched in her hand, an addition to her ensemble.
Curiosity piqued, Azriel couldn't help but ask about the bag as soon as greetings were exchanged. "What's in the bag? If you don't mind me asking," he inquired, his tone light, trying to mask the depth of his curiosity and concern.
Y/n glanced down at the bag, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Oh, just some cosmetics," she joked, her voice laced with humor. "I felt my complexion still looks very pallid. Thought I might need a touch-up if I continue to stay in the illustrious night court."
Azriel, taken aback by her answer yet finding it endearing, responded without hesitation, his voice sincere. "You look beautiful, Y/n. You don't need anything more for that."
The moment the words left his mouth, a warm flush of embarrassment colored his cheeks, mirroring the blush that bloomed on Y/n's face. Azriel couldn’t help but feel pleased with her reaction, though he tried to ignore how he longed to see where else that rosy hue would appear. 
Seeking to recover from the moment, Azriel cleared his throat softly, gesturing towards the city. "Shall we begin our tour? Velaris has much to offer, and I'd like to show you everything I've planned."
Y/n nodded, her smile bright, the earlier blush still present but accompanied now by a look of genuine happiness. "I'd love that, Azriel. Lead the way."
As they ventured into the heart of Velaris, Azriel found himself sharing stories and lore of the city, each tale carefully chosen to entertain or spark curiosity in Y/n. He noticed how her eyes lit up with each new sight, her laughter more melodious to his ears than any music. It was as if, with her by his side, Velaris transformed into an even more magical place, its beauty magnified through her presence.
“It’s said that this fountain,” Azriel gestured to an ornate structure, water dancing under the sun’s fading glow, “was built by a high lord as a tribute to his mate’s beauty, which he believed surpassed even that of the Night Court’s stars.”
Y/n’s laughter, light and infectious, filled the air. “A high bar for beauty,” she remarked, her gaze lingering on the play of light over water. “Do you think such comparisons are fair, comparing someone to the stars?”
Azriel found himself caught in the depth of her gaze, her curiosity igniting his own. “Perhaps not fair, but it speaks to the beholder's awe. Don’t we all aspire to find a love like that, where the connection is so intense, that it could rival the stars?
But just as their souls seemed on the verge of whispering secrets only the heart could hear, the boisterous cry of a vendor shattered the stillness.
"Delicacies of the night! Taste the wonders of Velaris!" His voice, loud and full of life, tore through the tender veil of connection they had cocooned themselves within.
In an instant, the world rushed back in—a flood of sounds and lights, washing away the moment of intense closeness they had found. They were left adrift, surrounded by the vibrant chaos of the night market, the poignant ache of a moment lost too soon lingering in the air between them.
The day gave way to evening almost without notice, hours spent in exploration and shared discovery. 
Azriel led her through the vibrant heart of Velaris, showcasing the city's architectural marvels—the four Palaces. They spent the most time at the Palace of Thread and Jewels, a bustling market square alive with the hum of creative energy. Here, amidst stalls adorned with fabrics that whispered tales of distant lands and jewelry that sparkled with the promise of untold stories, Y/n came alive in a way Azriel hadn't seen before.
He watched, fascinated, as she engaged with the vendors, her knowledge of gems and textiles flowing effortlessly, her eyes lighting up with each piece she examined. Her hands, graceful and assured, would trace the lines of cloth, her touch eliciting stories from silk and satin alike.
In one of those quiet moments, shared over a stall draped in velvets and brocades, Y/n turned to Azriel, a softness in her eyes. "When I was much younger," she confessed, "I dreamt of being a fashion designer. I wanted to create clothes that weren't just worn but experienced—garments that would steal the breath from those who beheld them."
Azriel's gaze softened as he listened, the ambient noises of the marketplace fading into the background. "That's a beautiful dream," he responded, his voice low and thoughtful. "The clothes we wear can speak volumes, tell stories, and even protect us. Your designs could have done all that and more, I believe."
She laughed, a sound that mingled with the evening air, rich and full of possibilities. "Maybe in another life, Azriel. For now, I'm content with my path, though it's nice to dream a little."
As they continued to explore the stalls, Azriel couldn't help but see the market—and Y/n—in a new light. Every thread, every jewel, seemed to hold a piece of the dream she had shared with him. And in that moment, he made a silent vow to himself to support her dreams, in whatever form they might take, hoping that they could come true with him at her side. 
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As the gallery’s doors closed behind them, Azriel realized the day had slipped away into the evening, the sky a canvas of deep blues and purples. “You must be hungry after our day,” he said, the thought striking him with sudden concern. “Would you join me for dinner?”
The smile Y/n offered in response, wide and genuine, set his heart racing. “I’d love to, Azriel. Thank you.”
Choosing a quaint restaurant known for its exquisite cuisine and intimate ambiance, Azriel had such joy when she accepted his invitation. However, as they approached the entrance, he reached out to gently guide her by the arm, a gesture meant to be polite. To his surprise, she recoiled—a flash of discomfort shadowing her features.
Throughout dinner, Azriel couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had overstepped, his mind replaying the moment she flinched. Despite the array of dishes that graced their table, she barely touched her food, her usual spark dimmed to a quiet reserve.
“Y/n, if I did something earlier to upset you, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention,” he ventured, hoping to bridge the silence that had settled between them.
Y/n shook her head, offering a small smile. “No, Azriel, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just not very hungry tonight, that’s all.”
Despite her reassurance, Azriel couldn’t help but feel a gnawing insecurity for the rest of the evening, wondering what unseen barriers still lay between them. The night that had started with laughter and shared secrets now seemed cloaked in a quiet tension, and Azriel found himself wishing for the ability to read her thoughts, to understand her silence.
As they stepped out of the restaurant into the velvet night, the streets of Velaris were bathed in the soft glow of starlight and lamplights, casting ethereal shadows around them. Azriel, still filled with guilt from the earlier incident, searched for words to lighten the mood and make amends. He longed to suggest they fly back, to offer her the breathtaking views of Velaris by night from the sanctuary of his arms. Yet, the memory of her recoiling from his touch echoed loudly in his mind, a reminder of the boundaries he feared to overstep again.
With a heavy heart, he proposed instead to winnow them back, a quicker, less intimate mode of travel. "We can winnow back, but it's a bit of a drop—we'll land on the balcony. I'll need to hold you for just a moment to manage the descent," he explained, trying to mask his disappointment.
Y/n, fiddling with her bag, offered a small nod, her voice quiet.
"That's fine. I'll just hold onto your arm. I should be okay with the drop," she replied, the simplicity of the arrangement failing to hide the distance it imposed.
As they landed with soft thuds on the balcony, Azriel couldn't help but notice how the moonlight painted Y/n's features, highlighting her beauty yet highlighting her pallor. She thanked him, her voice a whisper against the night, as she turned to leave. The urge to reach out, to bridge the space between them with a touch, surged within him, but he halted, his fingers hovering mere breaths away from her shoulder. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier," he found himself saying again, the words heavy with unspoken feelings.
Y/n shook her head, a gesture of dismissal or perhaps forgiveness, Azriel couldn't tell. "I'm just tired, that's all. The day finally caught up to me," she offered, her voice carrying a fatigue that went beyond the physical.
The silence that followed was filled with things unsaid, with Azriel's silent plea for understanding and Y/n's unspoken reassurances. When he hesitantly asked if she was still alright with him assisting her with her research, she nodded, her agreement to meet at the library the next day offering a glimmer of hope, a possibility of redemption.
As she retreated into the night, leaving Azriel alone with his thoughts on the balcony, he watched her go with a sense of loss.
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A/N: Hi eveyone!! So I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter. Tbh I had a lot of writer's block and I wasn't really sure where I wanted Y/n and azriel to go during these chapters. But I do LOVE a blushing Az!!!
I have plans for future chapters and I really want to add in some more snippets about Y/n and Rhys as children and teenagers, messing and playing around with each other. Let me know if you have any ideas you'd want to read!
For my tag list, I tagged everyone who asked and those who commented on the previous parts. If you'd like to be included, please just let me know. 💕
TAGLIST: @strangelygreat @enfppuff @trip-n-sal @inloveallthetime @annamariereads16 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @annblvd @ania-swissweet @yearninglustfully @sleepylunarwolf @quiettuba @gorlillaglue25 @lilah-asteria @naturakaashi @sillymercury @itsswritten @xlosttdreamss @kennedy-brooke @xyzmeh @lucky7rosie @copenhagenspirit @collide-with-the-music @starsinyourseyes @dianxiaxiexie @maybefoxysouls @golden-canyon @violet-potter @thisiskaylin @acphengene @katherinejess @sevikas-whore @kalulakunundrum @hibye02 @madscamp02 @willowpains @jaybarding @kalulakunundrum @sevikas-whore @katherinejess @acphengene @thisiskaylin @herondale-lightworm @5onedirection5 @namelesssav
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you should trust her with sharp objects. surely you will not regret this
[Image ID: A digital drawing of ZombieCleo from Hermitcraft, carving an armor stand. They are a pale, fat zombie with 3A/3B curly red hair and a large, round nose. She wears a dark blue t-shirt with a teal star design over a black-and-white striped long-sleeved shirt. They are also wearing a watch, and purple-grey jeans. She stands, facing sideways, next to an armor stand, with her right hand in the air with a small exacto knife/ box cutter in her hand. The armor stand is in a basic pose, with both arms slightly bent. It is a grey-brown colour, and has a wood-like texture overlaid on it. The background is a similar teal colour to the design on Cleo's shirt, and has an antique-like pattern. End ID.]
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megamindsecretlair · 2 months
Note
Qimir x reader 🥺
Ask and receive, anon! Have you been peeking at my drafts??
We Are the Night - Chapter 1
Masterlist Chapter 2
Pairing: Qimir x Jedi!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Tame, nothing explicit. There's teasing though, if you squint. Possible dark elements, but always consensual. Corruption kink. I spit on Star Wars canon. I will borrow some of Osha's backstory, but some things will be changed.
Summary: You end up crash landing onto the planet that Qimir calls home. He rescues you, but you have no way of going home, no way of letting anyone know where you are. Qimir talks a good game, but can you trust him?
AO3 Link
Word Count: 3,406
A/N: Ahhhhhh, this show has rotted my brain and I'm not even an enemies to lovers girlie! But I need that man like a bad habit! Toss a coin to your bloggers by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged howling in my asks.
Taglist: @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi
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Loud, obnoxious beeping roused you into consciousness. Your eyes were gritty, dry, seemingly glued shut. But you forced them open anyway. Light from overhead seared your retinas and you shut it with a groan. You licked your dry lips and tried to turn your head.
Stars, your head was killing you. Achy. Unsettling. The beeps and alarms weren’t going anywhere, however, and you were the only one in this tin can. You didn’t remember passing out. 
You wracked your brain trying to think of what happened. But the last thing you remembered was…talking to…setting coordinates for…fuck, it was on the tip of your tongue to say it but you couldn’t find the words. 
The alarms were starting to pulse in time with your headache. You took a few deep breaths, staring up at your ceiling, which was just a glass dome overlooking the galaxy. You were speeding somewhere and it couldn’t be anywhere good if the alarms had anything to say about it. 
Tears pricked your eyes but you didn’t have time for any of that. You grunted and groaned as you climbed off of your floor. Just sitting up knocked the breath out of you. Struggling to your feet took tremendous strength that you just didn’t have. 
Your hand clutched onto the vinyl pilot’s seat as you pulled yourself to standing. A sharp pain pierced your side. The ship lurched to the right and you stumbled, knocking your shoulder against the side of the cockpit. You cried out. Everything hurt!
You gritted your teeth and found the energy to look down, inspecting yourself. You still wore the same outfit, cargo pants, a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and your utility vest. A dark red stain spread across the expanse of your cargo pants. Your shirt soaked up much of the blood, too dark to distinguish between the two. 
You lifted the edges of your shirt to reveal a gushing wound in your side. The sight of your own blood nearly made you swoon. There was so much. You looked towards the floor where you had been laying. There was a generous pool there. Your heart sank. How long were you out?
The ship lurched again, metal ripping, gears shifting, and you stumbled forward. Your navigation panels were all over the place. Red buttons flashed, the alarm screeched, and the other screens blinked on and off. If nothing else, you were in deep fucking trouble. 
You cried out as you flopped into the pilot’s seat. The ship you were in was careening decidedly down, though you weren’t sure why. Out of the corner of your eye, there was movement. You looked to the right to see a bit of smoke. 
You leaned your face against the window, trying to look as far as you could at the gaping hole in the escape pod’s wing. Escape pod? The hell? 
The ship gave a decidedly crude groan and shutter that did not sound good at all. You flipped through your switches trying to turn the damn alarm off. You were woozy, feeling lightheaded and sick, but you needed to think. Now that you were awake, the pains and aches in your body started vying for your attention.
Your foot hurt like hell, your side was killing you, and there was a damn crick in your neck. Focus. Focus. 
You pressed the button to open a wide range channel. “H-Hello? Anyone out there? I’m in trouble,” you said. Your voice was strained, dry, and you coughed from disuse. You knew that you didn’t want to draw the attention of bad characters like pirates or opportunists. But anything was better than imminent death. 
“Please, I don’t know where I am,” you said into the comms. Nothing. No static. Tears gathered in your eyes once more. If you weren’t a failed Jedi, maybe you could figure out a way out of this. Maybe you could have used the Force, meditated and connected with someone, anyone, who could come rescue you. 
You hung your head. There’s no use crying when your life was in the balance. So you swiped at your tears, careful not to smear blood on your face, and refocused on the job at hand. One of these damn switches had to turn off the alarms. 
You grabbed hold of the steering wheel, pulling back on it. No such luck. The ship gave a shudder, a groan, a keening whine and then boom! The ship spun out of control. As the ship twisted and turned, more black smoke emanated from the right wing. Said wing was flung from the ship, spinning away from you faster and faster.
“Oh shit,” you whispered. It wasn’t necessarily needed to fly, but it kept your ship balanced and steady upon take off and arrival. How the hell were you going to land now? 
Shit, shit, shit! You strapped on the seatbelts on your seat and held on as the ship spun and spun. Spun so fast it was a dizzying array of stars overhead, making you sick, Making your stomach flip and flop and threatened to upchuck whatever your last meal was. Whenever that was. 
The ship stopped spinning as if it had been yanked by an invisible chain. Now, it just careened forward, plummeting as you felt the drop in your stomach. A blue planet loomed before you. The sun was on the far side of the planet, illuminating wondrous and endless blue. 
Shit. The last thing you needed was to land on an ocean planet. No land for miles in any direction, no navigational charts to pull you to safety, and no way to communicate that you were there. You didn’t want to die alone on a planet like that. Starved. Pathetic. 
You closed your eyes as the ship rushed towards that planet as if it were calling you there. A beacon. You had nothing but precious few seconds to think about your life’s choices and how you arrived here. At the forefront of it all, if you had just stayed with your mothers, would you have still ended up here? 
The front end of the ship began to burn up as your shields started to break down. The force and speed of your descent made the cabin burn up from entering the atmosphere. 
It was all in sickening high resolution. You watched your final moments like a holo-program, can’t watch but unable to look away. Metal plates began to break away from your ship. One flew into the windshield with a hard thud. The ship dropped down, so that you were nearly vertical staring at the expanse of water.
As you got closer, you realized that there was something worse than heading for a planet made of water. That same planet having jagged and rocky islands. You were too far away to scan for any signs of life. Equipment too badly damaged to run a digital scan. 
You prayed and prayed and hoped that the Force had mercy on you as you went crashing down. You missed a large island by yards, plunging into the murky, deep ocean. Your body snagged against the seatbelt, digging into your chest and sending fresh waves of pain down your body from the wound in your side. The inertia after the initial crash smacked you head first against the window to your left. 
Darkness filled your eyes as you blinked, watching as the ocean swallowed you whole. Alone. With no one to even know you were there.
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When you awoke, you sucked in a deep breath of air as if you had been drowning. You settled back against the bed with a soft sigh, trying to recall such a horrid dream. As if you had been lost on a random planet, alone and afraid.
You flipped over in bed, side protesting in pain. You looked down at yourself. Your vest was gone and your shirt had been cut across the hem, giving you a midriff. You went to sit up, but a sudden rush of nausea made you lay back down and take deep breaths.
Your head swam with a headache that hurt enough to make you chew bricks. You rubbed your head, feeling your feverish wet skin. Your vision swam. It could be shock or it could be because you tried sitting up, but you closed your eyes and immediately fell back asleep.
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When you woke up again, it was slower this time. A soft, rushing sound was off in the distance. You blinked your eyes a few times and let your vision settle naturally on the room around you.
You were in some kind of cave? Underground surely. Natural by the look of the jagged rocks surrounding you. You were lying on a bed. Not the most comfortable mattress in the world, but it beat even the Jedi temple in terms of stiffness. 
How did you get here? You had no memory of climbing into this place. Or finding a bed. Or stitching yourself up. Your hands floated over your side, feeling a faint scar as if you hadn’t had anything there at all. 
You remembered being in pain. You remembered being on the ship. It was all still so fuzzy, but you remembered that you were desperately trying to escape a different planet. You were on a ship with Sol.
Fear punched you in the throat and then dragged icy nails across your chest. Sol. Yord. Jecki. A sob caught in your throat as you thought about the horrible, awful cruelty of it all. The merchant who was not a merchant. 
You winced as you recalled your last few hours. Or was it days? You, Sol, and Jecki had barely gotten away. Your sister attacked you on the way back to the ship, fighting to get away from her master. 
Mae went on about her misconceptions about you. Spit had flown from her mouth with the absolute venom pouring off of her in waves. How she blamed you for everything. You for leaving. You for abandoning them. You for groveling like some dog before the Jedi. 
“Shut up!” You had yelled and you fought and fought. Mae was always better at using the Force. She had knocked you flat on your back. You had came to moments later, Mae nowhere in sight.
You ran for the shore as best as you were able, wound in your side preventing you from jogging faster. You had to get to Sol and Jecki before Mae did. 
You found Jecki’s body lying face down on the ground, three neat wounds in her chest still smoking. You covered your mouth with your hand, biting back tears and a scream. You were going to kill Mae, if it was the last thing you did. 
Escaping the planet was a blur. Sol hadn’t left yet. But Mae found you on the ship first. She beat you again, catching you unawares like a newborn baby. She pushed you into an escape pod, hit the eject button too quick for you to stop her. Next thing you knew, you were thrust off into space, banging on the window as if it would make a difference. Once more, you were looking up to Mae as she looked down on you. The pod went into hyperspace, off to who knew where. 
You curled in on yourself as you relived those moments. The fear, the anger, the betrayal. Mae was going to complete her goal. She was going to kill Sol and leave you with no one again.
“You’re awake,” a soft voice said.
You flinched, sitting up in bed nausea be damned. A man stood in the entrance to the cave-like room, wearing a white shirt and dark pants. His hair hung in tendrils in front of his face and he had short facial hair. 
He carried a bowl with steam rising from it. “Thought you might be up and brought you some soup,” he said.
“You,” you whispered.
How could it be? You had escaped. You were far from him. How was this murderer here? Walking freely when your friends were dead? 
“It’s not poison if that’s what you think. That’s no fun,” he said. His voice was deceptively calm and relaxed. One would almost call it lazy. 
He placed the bowl beside you and then backed away slowly, hands out, palm side up. He moved across the room until he sat down on a stump, picking up tools.
“Where am I?” 
“I could tell you…” he said, letting his words hang in the air.
“So?” You asked.
He looked back at you and smirked. “Wrong question,” he said.
“What?” You lowered the blanket from your chest, having covered yourself when Qimir entered the room. His back was towards you, there was nothing he was going to do for the moment. 
“Ask me what you really want to know,” he said. 
You ran your tongue over your canine as you looked at him in an all new light. How the hell did he know what you wanted to ask before you did? 
“How did you find me?” You asked.
“I felt you,” he said, looking up at you through his eyelashes. 
You slowly lifted the blanket back up to your chest, feeling his words rush over your skin. He was repulsive. A murderer. Evil. His words shouldn’t sound like…that or affect you like…that. 
“Not many can find this planet. It’s long forgotten on most star maps. Early this morning, I felt an approaching presence. I went outside and saw your ship, lit up like a star. Wasn’t hard to find the wreckage from there,” he said.
You wanted to call him a liar. That was what evil murderers did. But you felt nothing but the truth from him. “Thank you,” you said and looked away from him, hugging your middle.
He saluted you with two fingers from his temple and returned to whatever it was he was doing. You felt silly looking at his back. His wide back. You’ve gotten a few glances at a rough, razed scar on his back. You wondered about it but kept your mouth shut in case he was sensitive about it. 
You sighed and rolled your eyes. You were worried about his feelings? He was the one who had kidnapped you, brought you to this cave, and offered you poisonous soup. You didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him. 
“What is that?” You asked. Your curiosity would always get the better of you. That helmet scared the absolute taste of your mouth, but you were also deeply intrigued by it. The shape, the color. The teeth.
“Eat your soup and I’ll tell you,” he said. How the hell could he know you weren’t eating? His back was still turned towards you.
“You project your emotions,” he said. Your name slipped from his lips softly. You shook your head. 
“I do not,” you said.
Qimir chuckled and went back to fiddling with his helmet. You waited a few more moments, looking between his helmet and the bowl of soup. You didn’t want to risk sudden death, but you also really wanted to know about his helmet.
You kissed your teeth and grabbed the bowl of soup. It looked sort of appetizing, filled with soft fish and veggies. You grabbed the spoon, swirling the soup around and around the bowl. 
“You can do it,” he said. Your eyes flicked to him, and he was half turned in your direction. You scowled at him as he smirked at you. 
You narrowed your eyes at him, rising to his bait. You drank straight from the bowl, letting the herbs, spices, and flavor explode on your tongue. It wasn’t half bad for a planet with no land animals. 
Qimir smirked when you came up for air. He tapped the top of his helmet. “Cartosis. Handy against lightsabers,” he said.
“How do you have a lightsaber?” You asked. When you left the Order, you had to give yours up. You felt terrible. You had worked so hard on finding the right crystal, building your saber from the ground up. Designing it to fit perfectly in your hand. 
“You’re full of questions,” he said. 
“You’re full of non-answers,” you countered.
He tilted his head and conceded the point. “I used to be like you. Young, stars in my eyes, believing in the Order.”
“Is that how you got the scar?” You asked. Fine. You couldn’t help it. 
“I believed in someone I shouldn’t have,” he said. 
He grabbed his tools, gathered them in a box, and then stood up from his seat. “It’s like a sensory deprivation headpiece, like we used as Younglings. You should try it on,” he said. He smirked at you like he knew what your answer was going to be. 
“I’m not trying that thing on,” you said.
He smirked and you hated that look on his face. “What are you so afraid of? That you might look into the Force and have it stare right back?” 
“Is that what it’s for?” You asked. You didn’t need to get into the gritty details of your connection to the Force or lack thereof. It was about mental discipline. It all but faded from your fingertips the moment you stepped out of the temple for good.
“If you’re that curious, take a look,” he said. He smirked one final time, heading off to wherever he came from. 
“How long are you going to keep me here?” You asked.
He stopped at the entrance to the room and looked sideways at you. “That depends on you,” he said.
He left the room, leaving you to stew in your thoughts. You finished off the rest of the soup. If it was poison, at least it tasted good on the way down. Left to your own devices, there was nothing to do but either go back to sleep or stare at the helmet.
You looked at its crude design. Designed to incite fear and command respect. You recalled how fluidly he moved. How precise he was in his maddening dance of ruthlessness. How sure of himself he was.
You’d never been sure of anything in your life. You always felt like an outcast. An outsider. You floated between groups of people, never belonging to any of them. Strangely, way deep down inside, you felt a certain…pull here. A deep settling in your bones.
You shook your head, fighting off that wayward thought. You had to focus on getting out of here. Of finding his ship and escaping before he grew tired of you and killed you. 
Your eyes flitted to the helmet once more. As if it were silently calling you. Taunting you. If you strained to listen, you could just make out a voice. 
Screw it. What was the worst that could happen?
You placed the bowl on the chair in front of you and crossed the rocky floor towards Qimir’s workbench. You grabbed the helmet and sat down, staring at it. Slowly, you brought it over your head. It was larger than you thought it would be, but somehow so small you started to hyperventilate. 
All you could hear was the sound of your rapidly increasing breaths. You couldn’t see anything out of the helmet. Only feel. Hear. Your hands clutched the side of the helmet, feeling like it was crushing your skull with every breath that you took.
You felt a lazy eye open somewhere. Like you were staring at some great beast, who’s body spanned the universe. And it turned that eye on you. In a panic, you screeched and tore off the helmet, tossing it onto the desk and backed away from it. You nearly fell off of the ledge trying to get away.
You stared at the visage. The harsh smile gleaming silver. It was turned on its side, face plate towards you. Mocking you. 
You turned your back from it and leaned against a stony wall. Jagged pieces of rock bit into your palm but you welcomed the pain. Welcomed the reminder that you were alive, by the grace of Qimir, but alive. And you still had your wits about you. You were not going to let him corrupt you.
You believed in right from wrong. You believed in the side of the Jedi. If nothing else, you knew that you would never, ever side with the likes of Qimir.
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Masterlist | Chapter 2
115 notes · View notes
how-serene · 1 month
Text
In Your Eyes
Pairing - Dwayne (Lost Boys) x Neutral!Reader
Summary - A night on the boardwalk with Dwayne.
Word Count - 775
Warnings - fluff, mentions of smoking, no use of y/n, pet names
A/N - Billy Wirth, you absolute beauty.
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Santa Carla’s cool breeze washed over your face. Behind you, the shrieks and laughter of friends broke through the crashing of the waves. They danced wildly around a bonfire, Mötley Crüe booming through a radio speaker. Despite the night bringing a cold chill, hoards of people still strolled along the boardwalk. Even from your place on the pier, you could feel the public’s infectious excitement. 
You leaned against the rickety railing, a cigarette held loosely between your fingers. Summer’s full moon hung high, reflecting off of the rippling waves of the water. Stars blinked down at you, against the sky’s black canvas. The pungent smell of the ocean invaded your airways, mixing with the bitter smoke. 
A pair of leather cladded arms snaked around your waist, startling you. 
“Hey, baby,” Dwayne purred, breath fanning against your ear. His hands traveled down to rest on your hips, squeezing at the flesh. 
“You’re late,” you pointed out, fighting back a grin. 
He merely hummed at your words, instead choosing to leave faint kisses on your shoulder. Even through the thick fabric of your shirt, his lips still managed to leave your skin buzzing.
Dwayne trailed his lips up, til he met the shell of your ear again. His rough hands turned you to properly face him, the railing pressed into your back. 
“Got caught up with something,” he explained, dark eyes shining down at you. 
From the faint ruby stain in the corner of his lip, you understood very quickly what that something was. You brought your thumb up, to swipe at the red smudge. The corner of his lip quirked up, carefully watching your movement. 
“You’re cold,” he noticed, leaning into your touch. 
“”The pier isn’t exactly the warmest place on earth.” 
“How long have you been waiting?” 
“Thirty minutes, give or take.” You shrugged, letting your hand fall back down to your side. 
Dwayne sighed, dark brown eyes drifting past you to stare out at the ocean waves. The wind had picked up, now faintly brushing against his thick black hair. He seemed lost, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts you couldn’t begin to decipher. 
You tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, effectively getting his attention. His eyes softened, sweeping over you. 
“Wanna know what’s been on my mind all night?” You asked, brushing the tip of your nose against his. Dwayne’s sweet mouth was only centimeters away from yours. His hands slipped up the back of your shirt, the cool silver rings he wore ghosting over the skin.
“What is it, doll?” he muttered, lips grazing the corner of your mouth. Patiently waiting for you to speak. His unshaven stubble scraped against your chin.
You planted a firm kiss on his cheek, before pulling back. 
“Winning that giant stuffed panda I saw near the balloon darts.” 
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The pier was alive, as bright neon lights illuminated the boardwalk. The flood of patrons rushed past you, of kids dragging their parents by the cuff of their sleeves, or friends huddled together like packs of wolves. All vying for that last ride on the Ferris wheel, or an overpriced corndog before the park closed for the night. 
You walked, with Dwayne’s arm slung over your shoulders, and a stuffed Panda lovingly held in your hands. 
“Since when were you so good at darts, mister?”
Dwayne sheepishly smiled, glancing down at you, “Just one of my many talents.” 
You snorted, bumping your hip with his. It was odd, at times you realized. Dwayne smelled of cigarettes, and cheap booze most likely snagged from the victims of bonfire parties. His mouth tasted of mint, and nicotine when he would kiss you. There was always something beyond it though, a metallic taste your mind would block out before you could process it. 
Even though you knew. 
He appeared so human at times, it knocked you back. It was almost easy to brush off the strange coolness of his skin, or the carnivorous look in his features when a hoard of people would pass by you two. 
Then there were moments when the human-like quality of Dwayne overshadowed everything else. Moment’s like now, when he pressed you into his side, grinning as he peppered kisses over your hairline. You giggled, leaning back away from him, your heart thudding in your chest. Up ahead, his pack was gathered around a picnic-table, lazily leaning against it. Their ravenous gaze met yours, locked on your approaching form. Marko, with an infectious toothy smile and unkempt golden hair, waved at you. Dwayne grumbled, muttering something under his breath.
You were reminded that monsters lurked on every corner. 
In Santa Carla, at least. 
145 notes · View notes
lesbianpepsi · 1 year
Text
your face is a like a melody, it won't leave my head
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pairing: jock!amber freeman x volleyball player!fem!reader
summary: amber can't stop obsessing over a certain volleyball player
words: 2.379k
warnings: amber being a stab enthusiast, swearing, bad writing
authors note: my biggest red flag is giving all my fics long ass lana del rey lyrics as titles 😕🚩
Woodsboro High was like any other basic American high school. It had its popular kids, nerds, and of course the jocks. But one thing that separated Woodsboro from all the other schools was the jocks, more specifically the star jock player; Amber Freeman.
Not a sleazy guy named Jason Jackson but a girl named Amber Freeman.
She was absolutely notorious for her massive parties, how good she was at football and how stupidly attractive and athletic she was.
Everyone was fawning over her good looks and obnoxious attitude; well almost everyone.
You were the star of the volleyball team, the one who worked the hardest to gain the title of captain and went to every single practice to come out of it sweating like a pig.
You were the one in five hundred who did not like Amber Freeman.
Her cocky behaviour and rude attitude to students and some teachers who didn't deserve it made you go red with rage.
The feeling was heavily reciprocated as Amber made it very clear she did not like you.
"Accidentally" kicking her ball in your direction at lunch every time, snarky comments whenever she saw you and mistakenly using your locker to keep her things when she needed to change into her football gear.
It was anything but fun to deal with.
After a particularly rough practice session after school, you had to stay behind to clean everything up while your teammates headed towards the changing room to get their stuff and leave. Your oh so lovely coach didn't bother to help either, she simply threw the keys to lock the gymnasium at you and told you to lock up.
With a tired sigh you began rounding up all the volleyballs into a large black bag, throwing one in after the other. As you were about halfway done the doors opened, you sighed in relief as you hoped it was maybe your best friend Rosa had decided to help you clear up.
Grabbing a ball you turned to look at the doors, smiling widely before it quickly faded away when your eyes landed on who it was.
Amber Freeman stood there with a smug smile as she headed towards your direction, she was wearing her own jersey which told you she had just finished her own practice.
The jersey was the school's colours navy and yellow with the mascot being a panther, the front of Amber's jersey showing her signature number '96'.
The colour scheme was the same as your volleyball outfit; your long sleeved navy shirt with some stripes of yellow on it accompanied with short navy shorts that matched Amber's navy jersey and tight yellow slotted waist pants.
"What are you doing here, Freeman?" You grumbled as you stuffed a ball more roughly than necessary into the large bag.
Amber chuckled as she stood in front of you. "Coach didn't like my apparent 'arrogant' behaviour in practice so she said I gotta help the volleyball team clear up." She explained with a light rasp to her tone, something that you couldn't help but find hot annoying.
You scoffed as you picked up another ball off of the ground, dropping it into the half full bag. "Amber Freeman being arrogant, how shocking." You retorted, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you glanced at Amber.
The dark haired girl still had that smug grin that you wanted to desperately wipe off of her face. "Someone's grumpy, are you annoyed that you and your girl broke up?"
Your jaw clenched as you averted her gaze, focusing your attention back on the balls on the floor, much more aggressively than necessary shoving them into the bag.
"Fuck off, Amber. That's none of your business." Amber let out a laugh as she snatched the bag from your grip, opening it wider as she smiled at you.
Sceptical, you glared at her before you picked up three balls off the floor and dropped them in, the entire process being much faster with Amber holding the bag.
After a small period of silence much to your displeasure Amber broke it.
"Is it true you broke up with Neve 'cause she said she wanted to fuck me?"
You froze as your grip on the final ball tightened as you glared at her. You honestly thought she couldn't be any more of a bitch but here she was, in all her glory being a massive bitch.
"If Neve wants to make the mistake of fucking you then that's her and yours business, not mine." You replied, rubbing your thumb against the ball. "Well don't you worry baby cakes, I wouldn't sleep with her anyway." Amber asserted with a smirk, giving you a wink as she did so.
Your ears burned at her weirdly cute stupid nickname, your grip tightening even further.
Before even thinking you threw the ball weakly at Amber's face, resulting with her letting out a pained whine as the ball swiftly dropped into the bag. You grinned - mostly satisfied at the fact the ball dropped back into the bag- as you retrieved the full bag from her clutches.
"Whoops." You apologised as you tightened the top of the bag with the string, throwing it over your shoulder.
Amber rolled her eyes at your fake apology as she frowned like a hurt child, rubbing at her forehead where the ball hit.
"You're not funny." She grumbled out, moving her arms to cross them over her chest.
You narrowed your eyes at her with a smirk of your own. "I might not be funny but at least I'm not a reddit user."
Amber eyes widened in shock for a split second at your words, that only made your smirk grow even larger. She tilted her head to the side soon after, acting confused but you knew the truth.
"What are you even talking about?" She questioned. You stifled a laugh at fake confusion, you were positive Amber Freeman would not make a good actress.
"Does stumachersknife69 ring any bells, Freeman?" The jock averted your piercing eyes with a cough, finding a new interest on the floor. "I don't know what you're talking about." She mumbled.
You snorted a laugh as you nodded your head. "Sure you don't. Maybe I'll just have to ask Tara." You quipped making your voice sound more flirty at the end knowing how Amber would react to it.
Everyone in Woodsboro knew not to try to play any games with Tara Carpenter, Amber Freemans best friend. The football player was very protective over the smaller girl.
Amber's dark eyes glanced back at yours instantly at yours words, a glare on her face as she straightened her posture.
"The fucks that's supposed to mean?" She asked in an accusative manner. You shrugged your shoulders innocently as you smiled at her. "Well, you did say I was grumpy, so maybe I should start dating again. Tara's quite pretty, beautiful even and so sweet. What's not to like?"
"Like hell I'd let you go on a date with Tara." Amber said gruffly, her jaw clenching as your fake smile widened even further, knowing it would rile her up even more.
With a dry laugh you asked her: "Are you her personal guard dog or something?" your smiling becoming real at how annoyed Amber got.
"No, I just don't want her hanging out with douchebags like yourself." She cursed back. You watched her carefully as she took a step closer to you, glaring at you the entire time.
"How am I a douchebag? I've literally had like three girlfriends in my entire life and actually treated them with respect unlike you." You retorted with cockiness that faded once you noticed how lame what you just said sounded.
Thankfully Amber paid no mind to the fact you only had three girlfriends as her anger fizzled over. "Excuse fucking me? Are you saying I don't respect the people I go out with or something?"
You snorted a laugh as you stared at her in disbelief. Amber was the literal biggest player in the school, of course she barely cared about the girls she slept with. "You fuck 'em and leave 'em on the very same day without warning, that's kinda of a douchebag thing to do."
The jock stool another step closer until the point she was in your personal space, breathing heavily as she gazed into your eyes. "Oh shut the fuck up." She growled, the air around you suddenly starting to feel much warmer.
You didn’t wait a second to think of a reply before two words appeared on the tip of your tongue, escaping before you could do anything about it.
“Make me." You challenged with a smirk.
Amber opened her mouth to say something but faltered at the last second, shutting her mouth. The dark haired girl cocked her head to the side with raised eyebrows. “What did you just say?” She asked you in a low voice.
Your eyes flickered down to her pink lips before back to her dark eyes, licking at your own lips.
“I said make me.”
The football player didn't waste another second before her lips were on yours, capturing your lips eagerly as one of her hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer.
The bag full of volleyball balls had dropped from your shoulder to the ground, the impact making it reopen as all of the balls escaped with a roll.
Amber nor you paid any attention to it.
Your own arms wrapped around her waist as you pulled her even impossibly closer as you kissed her back just as fiercely.
The dark haired girl faintly tasted like raspberry apple, a taste you had never found so addictive and delicious until now.
Your heart beating faster than it had all of practice at the feeling of Amber Freeman’s soft lips on your own. Shutting your eyes it was as if you’d gotten much more sensitive, the feeling of the butterflies in your stomach intensifying.
Amber’s tongue professionally slided along your bottom lip as she begged for entrance. You whined pathetically loud at the feeling as you quickly went to complied to her request, soon after
Amber greedily shoved her tongue inside your mouth.
Your hands gripped at her jersey; your knees started to feel weak as her tongue explored your mouth.
The jock’s other hand held your waist with firmity, her thumb gently moving up and down your waist.
You couldn't bring yourself to pull away from Amber’s addictive soft lips, no matter how much your lungs begged you for oxygen.
Unluckily you didn't get much of a choice when you’d pull away when you heard a booming voice.
“Yo! Freeman where you at?”
You recognised the voice as Chad Meeks Martin’s voice, the second most popular footballer player at Woodsboro.
Amber hurriedly pulled away from you, breathing heavily as she still held you. It took you a moment or two to open your eyes, your breathing as erratic as Amber’s.
It definitely didn't calm down when the first thing you saw was Amber’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips, her signature smirk toying at her lips.
Your eyes locked with hers as you loosened your grip on her jersey, swallowing dryly.
You could feel the jock’s fingers playing with your hair as she leaned closer, her mouth hovering over your ear.
“I'll see you tomorrow, Y/n.” Amber whispered out in a sultry tone, kissing your cheek as she pulled away.
Before you could argue Amber's hands dropped from your body as she left without another glance, leaving you alone feeling flustered and as much of a mess you had at the end of practice.
It took you five minutes before you could move, silently repeating your previous actions as you kept the volleyball balls into the black bag. The warmth on your cheeks never leaves.
Once you actually kept everything you headed towards the locker room that was empty. You didn't bother taking a shower and as you decided taking one at home would be easier.
Throwing your backpack over your shoulder you locked the gymnasium before you kept the keys in Mrs Smith and Miss Myers small office near the gymnasium.
As you opened the door you saw Miss Myers inside writing away on her notepad, she jumped at the sudden entrance before she turned to give you a sweet smile.
“Y/n, great to see you, how was your practice?” She asked you in a honey sweet voice, very different to the deafening yells she’d give the football team when they played a game or were practising.
Without a doubt she was the scariest teacher at the school.
You grinned back at her as you nodded your head weakly. “Knackering, one of the hardest we’ve had in a while.”
She barked out a laugh as she threw her notebook to the side. “I can see you're still quite flushed.
That was more Amber's fault than Coach Smith but you didn't dare tell her that. Instead you laughed before you gave her the keys.
“Smiths made you lock up again?” You nodded your head, rolling your eyes as you grinned. “Captain duties apparently.”
She gave you a sly smirk as she took the keys from you, hanging them next to the dozen other keys they had.
“You're as dedicated as my quarterback.” Miss Myers complimented. You tilted your head to the side as you played with the strap of your backpack. “Freeman? I thought she was a hassle in today's practice?”
She laughed as she waved at you dismissively. “Amber is never a hassle in practice, that girl always tries her best and it shows.”
You blinked at her confused; Amber's earlier words replaying in your mind of her saying she had to come and help you clean up.
Had Amber lied to you to just see you?
Shaking your head weakly you smiled at Miss Myers one last time as you took a step back. “I'll see you tomorrow, Miss.”
“See you, Y/n, get home safely.” She replied with a wave of her hand, you waved back before you turned on your heel, exiting the building.
Amber Freeman’s irresistible smirk all you could think of as you headed back home.
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gorgugplushie · 9 months
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My gift exchange for @froschdoesstuff !! Decided to go with Ayda and a young Garthy since they mentioned how they liked em!!
Gift exchange hosted by @d20exchange : )
[ID: A Digital Drawing of a older Ayda Aguefort and a young Garthy O'Brien. Ayda is a half-Pheonix with dark skin, Multiple eyes with black sclera and red iris with four on her wings, small red and orange feathers that cover her face, neck and arms, winged ears, fire like hair in dreads, orange nails, and red and orange wings that sprout from her back. Ayda is wearing a purple wizards cloak with orange sparkles and stars over a white button down shirt, a long purple skirt with lighter purple stars, and golden rectangle rimmed glasses. Ayda holds a red book in one hand as she reads diligently, she holds Garthy in her right arm, the background is of a wooden bookshelf. Garthy is a Half-Orc Aasimar with green skin, black sclera eyes with golden iris, a brown afro, golden freckles, two short tusks, round floppy orc ears, a small nub tail, two small white wings, and a white halo over their head. Garthy wears white overalls over a blue long sleeved shirt in the first figure, and a teal vest with lighter teal leaf and vine patterns over a white short sleeved shirt and brown pants in the second figures. In the first drawing Garthy looks up curious at Ayda's book, in the second they are flat on their stomach drawing on a wooden floor, and in the third they are proudly showing their drawing to Ayda, who has a speech bubble that says "It's too cute!". The background is tan and rendered to look like paper. /END ID]
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Guile & Guilt (Ch. 11) -- Epilogue
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Hello again! This epilogue was written using prompts 8, 12, 14, 20, and 29 of @glitterypirateduck 's January challenge! Hope y'all like it!
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“There you are, thief. I've been lookin’ for you,” Johnny spoke quietly as he snuck underneath the crossbars that very obviously said “Keep Out!”, displayed in bright red across the gate. 
You smiled at him as he made his way through the castle’s ruins, his boots crunching on the gravel and stone, ducking through the ancient archways like an overgrown warrior, home from the front. He was wearing a tee shirt and his hunting kilt, dressed for the warm night air. 
You imagined what it might have been like back then to see him coming through your castle toward your hugs and your kisses if you were his lady of this sprawling manor house. 
If he was your highland laird, he’d pass by a glowing hearth, the orange fire shining in his eyes, casting long shadows over him. He’d be in a tartan, much like he was now, but perhaps in a shirt with more frills on the collar and sleeves, the expensive stitching reflecting his high status. He’d be in brogues, not boots, allowing him to step silently through the heath and the heather, hunting Englishmen in the night. Your servants would take his deerskin bag from his shoulder, and they’d offer him a clean handkerchief to wipe the journey’s filth from his brow. 
He climbed the stairs of your tower, a knight after his very own princess, meaning to rescue or to ravish, and you couldn’t help but be excited for either. 
“I cannae remember the last time I did this,” Johnny laughed softly, stooping through the refurbished wooden doorway to join you in the circular tower room. It was a small space, and the roof was missing. There were two wooden stools (made to look ancient) and a truly historic hearth, black from centuries of soot. There was a small sign plate pinned to the wall of an artist’s rendition of what the room may have looked like when it was new. They’d made it a bedroom, complete with a sleeping dog on the rug. It was only stone and a wooden floor now, save for the two small chairs. 
Johnny sat in the open one next to you, and you stared out of the window together, surveying your sprawling grounds. A family of rabbits chased each other in a small grove beyond, oblivious to any danger, leaping over each other in the dark under the quilt of stars. You watched their brown, furry forms, hop and jump, running to and fro through the grass, making it whisper as it ruffled against their fur. 
You felt his enormous hand cover yours, his thumb lingering on the shining ring you wore on your left hand, the one he had given you so many months ago. 
“I cannae believe I'm going to marry you, mo mèirleach,” your hulking soldier sighed, kissing your ring and the fingers that held it. 
He turned your hand over to kiss your palm, letting his tongue dart out to lick the spaces he was about to kiss, leaving cool little wet spots on your skin. You grabbed his chin in your hand, catching his attention, and brought his mouth up to yours, making him kiss your lips, letting him suck on your tongue and fill your cheeks with his own, plundering into you, licking you like warm cream. 
You broke away from his kiss with a sigh, resting your face against his, relaxing into his hands as he held you close, clutching you tightly in the small, drafty room. 
“Johnny…” you whispered, warning him and begging him at the same time. 
“Don’t tempt me, lass. I’ll have you right here in this bloody tower if you start makin’ me hungry for you. Sayin’ my name like that…” He whispered to you, rocking his forehead back and forth, nuzzling his face into your neck, letting his breath warm your skin. 
“Maybe we could be very quiet,” you whispered back, giving him a mischievous smile, kissing his cheek reverently. 
“What a naughty wee hen you are. Was this your plan the entire time?” He asked you, shaking his head and grinning like a wolf. 
“Could be…” you laughed, leaning your body into his mouth as he trailed hungry lips down your neck and collarbone, peeling the shoulders of your tank top down your arms, leaving kisses where the fabric lay. 
He stood and lifted you with him, hoisting you up to sit on the wide stone window sill, its panes long gone. His hands dug under the hem of your skirt and followed your thigh up to your warmth, nestled between them, wet and waiting for his appraisal. When his fingers discovered you, he broke his kiss, sighing directly into your mouth with a heavy need. 
Slowly, almost maddeningly so, Johnny sank a long, thick finger into your hole, groaning as he felt how deeply your pleasure had soaked your skin. He began to rub himself, a little absentmindedly, against your calf as he hiked up your skirt a bit more, and you could feel his hard length tenting his kilt, pressing through the pleats. 
“Give me your cock, mo chridhe,” you commanded, darkening your voice and pulling down your tank top to your waist, letting him see your breasts on full display. 
“Want me tha’ bad, hm, bonnie?” He smiled rakishly, teasing you desperate, fucking you languidly with just the one finger, pulling himself out and pressing himself back in without any urgency. 
“Please, John–” you were interrupted by the sound of tires on the gravel near the castle’s entrance. 
Johnny released you, and you bent down together to peer out of the window. You waited, holding your breath, trying to stay out of sight. There was a white sedan making a u-turn in the parking lot, and only after it turned to go back down the hill did you let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, shit,” you laughed, sitting on the floor of the tower room, staring up into the stars in disbelief. 
“You’re the one who wanted to sneak into a wee castle and tease your man half to death. I cannae barely walk with this…” 
You looked over at him as he sat across from you, and you saw that he had pulled his kilt up to his hip to palm his cock underneath it. He was achingly stiff, and you could see the tip shining, leaking under the moonlight. 
“My poor darling,” you cooed at him, a little sarcastically, taunting him by playing with your breasts as you knelt in front of him, “You need me, hm? Should I put you inside?”
You straddled his lap and he fell backward, laying beneath you and letting you ride him however you saw fit. That smart mouth didn’t have anymore comments now. 
You hovered, stroking him with your hand, and he humped himself up into your grip, shamelessly. Smiling down at him, you decided to tease him just as he had done to you on the window sill. You fixed his head at your entrance and sank down just enough to let it pop in and out, not going down any further than that.  
His face contorted into a furious mess of longing and desire, his brow furrowing as he begged,
“C’mon, thief… just a little more. I dinnae think I’ll last much longer if you torture me like this… please…”
“Better be good, Johnny,” you sank down a little further, “Only good boys get rewards.”
He groaned, squeezing your thighs and turning his head away from you, wrenching his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from coming too soon,
“This already feels like a reward, mèirleach.”
“Stay with me, Johnny,” you coaxed him, “Be patient.”
“Fuck…” his eyes rolled white like a shark as he felt you purposefully bear down around him, settling down onto his cock and keeping him in you as deep as he would fit, resting there and feeling him pulse his muscles right back. 
You started to rock back and forth along his length, feeling him slipping in and out of your folds, long enough to penetrate you deeply, using his head to grind against your swollen spot just inside of your walls. You arched your back, staring up at the stars with him, bare to the night sky and all of its glittering constellations. 
Johnny’s hands moved up and held your breasts, plucking at your nipples and making you moan.
“Tha’s it, bonnie. You fuck me so damn good. Cannae believe it.”
He whined as you picked up your pace, holding you around your waist and helping you grind back and forth. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “Come on me, mèirleach. I wanna feel you.”
“Johnny… fuck, I just… I can’t…”
“You can, lass. I’m so close. Ah… I cannae breathe. You’re gonna make me come in you… so fuckin’ deep.”
You made a noise that caught in your breath as the shimmering crescendo of your orgasm washed over all of your senses, making your head spin with pleasure. You felt yourself go soft over his cock, relaxing into his steep curve, letting him sink even deeper than what you thought your body would allow. 
He felt your core give way, losing its tension, letting him sink further inside, and as he watched you come down from your high, he began to thrust himself into you from below. Johnny held you tightly to his chest, crushing you to him, and he fucked you with powerful, quick bursts, your bodies making pornographic slapping sounds in the deserted castle ruins. 
You heard him coming apart in your ear, and you suddenly felt the urge to kiss him as he whined for you. You slotted your mouth over his, and when you did, it was as if you had given him permission to scream. He cried out into your mouth as he kissed you, letting his screams of pleasure and joy be muffled by your lips and tongue. 
As he came in you, he called out your name, talking to you in your mouth, telling you what a good girl you were, claiming you as his, and only his. His woman. His thief. 
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