#iii. ' * . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '
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@freezeher asked [ TOUCH ] for sender to trace one of receiver’s scars
SHIVERS RACKING HER 𝚁𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙴𝙽 BODY FROM THE TOUCH OF ONE WARMER THAN HER, breaths shaky as she struggles to contain her thoughts, her words, her feelings about this situation she was stuck in. to begin to think of how they got here, oversized top coming off to leave the undead in pajama bottoms and a bra, 𝙞𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮 for the other to touch and access herself, would send her mind spiraling until she wouldn’t be able come back.
remember to breathe, to take a deep breath, prim . . if that even is your real name. why are you letting her touch you ? why are you allowing this ? 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ? comfortable around them enough to show off your battle scars, to show her what 𝙸𝚃 has done to you over the course of these many tiring years. tell them about it, use your words, and speak the hell up for once in your life.
❝ the one you’re tracing now it uh . . came from when I was 14. my mom thought anointing my head with holy oil would keep the demon away, but all it did was make it angry. clawed at my stomach all night and 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 ❞ words hushed as if she was too scared to speak up about the horrors she had been through, twiddling thumbs to stop herself from getting up and throwing her shirt back on, ❝ you should see the ones on my legs, they’re kind of horrid. one of the many reasons I don’t like wearing skirts or shorts ❞
#iii. ' * . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : main ( 𝟸 ) . '#freezeher#SOBBING LOUDLY#utterly terrified about showing ANYONE her scars#this means a lot to her#tw // eye contact
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@cadavirs asked ❛ this is your home , morana . ❜
BREATH HITCHES AT SOFT WORDS FALLING FROM LIPS, PUPILS DILATING AS EYES LOCK onto the older �� man standing in front of her 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎, not knowing what to do or how to respond to such a statement. never having a home, being on the run, how were you supposed to react to this ? 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘢. words ringing in head as the hunter stumbles back a few, hitting medical cart and not bothering to care if anything were to fall on the ground ( he worked hard to set that up, pick it up, morana. 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐝𝐞, 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤. 𝐢𝐭. 𝐮𝐩. )
how were they supposed to say thank you, supposed to 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔢𝔭𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 when they were constantly on the run ? how were they supposed to appreciate a home that they’d barely stay in, with people she knew so little about ? was she supposed to smile and hug him, or was she supposed to act normal ? 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠, 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙖, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙨. for who knows what would happen if you say or do the wrong thing ? who knows what home you’d find next if you get kicked out of this one.
❝ i — I don’t . . home ? this is my home ? why ? why not give it to someone else who deserves it ? ❞ questions roll off of sharp tongue as head quickly moves to follow eyes looking around, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 — but they don’t, they pick at nails and skin, leaving more wounds in place of scarred over ones. ❝ I tried to hurt you the first time we met, I deserve none of this. I don’t deserve a home, I don’t deserve a family . . how are you so sure that I won’t ever leave and never come back to this so called home 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 ? ❞
#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * ♱ . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : main ( 𝟸 ) . '#cadavirs dyn tag tbt#I’m so sick . . so so sick
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@laevndrs asked ❛ you know i love you, right? ❜
DOE EYES SOFTEN AS THE ACTRESS LOOKED AWAY from her vanity mirror in front of her, focusing her attention on her 𝓅𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝑜𝓅𝓅𝑜𝓈𝒾𝓉𝑒 that sat behind her on the bed. a regular nighttime routine the two had made together whenever they had sleepovers : watch movies, do face masks together, talk about boy problems, discuss their upcoming shows or movies, and then sleep in bed — but the one thing she loved was hearing 𝙻𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁 tell her about the insane amount of 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 she had for her.
lavender montgomery and 𝒷𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝑔𝓇𝒾𝓂𝒶𝓁𝒹𝒾, the two best friends who had known each other since they were young kids on zack and cody — try to 𝚁𝙸𝙿 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼 𝙰𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃, but their bond was too strong to do so.
❝ I love you too, lav ! you’re my 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 I have ever had, and I wouldn’t know what to do without you ! ❞ giggles fell out of pink tinted lips as she looked over her shoulder, face shiny from moisturizer and oil after the masks came off, ❝ why are you so far away ? come over here before I jump on you and smother you with my love, you know I will ! ❞
#iii. ' * ୨୧ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#main verse tbt.#laevndrs#I’m shaking them in my hands sobs
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@ribsache asked ❛ tender . kiss my muse on the nose .
NOSE SCRUNCHES UP AT THE feeling of lips touching her skin, eyes squeezing shut as her lips curl up to form a smile before letting out a small giggle, mind short circuiting at the small gesture due to her not experiencing it before. familial ? sure, she adores showing her love towards her siblings back at camp but this was different, with someone who wasn’t like her but could see the horrors that she experiences on a daily basis — and it made her heart warm for such a simple little thing, ❝ what was that for, mikey ? ❞ voice only above a whisper as eyes soften once they fully open again, staring up at the man with hearts in her eyes. she was fully gone, wasn’t she ? ❝ I mean not that I hated it, I loved it actually ! I just — why ? ❞
#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * 💗 . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : modern demigod . '#ribsache#ribsache dyn tag.#RAHHHH OH GOD my babies
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୨୧⋆˚ / EYE TWITCHES IN ANGER AND ANNOYANCE, emotions she rarely shows unless something occurred that made everything bubble to the surface. they may have been in danger, and he may have saved them both — but that didn’t mean she wasn’t outraged with what he had done in order to do so . . maybe she should flick his forehead to show him how serious she was about this ! ❝ I’m perfectly fine, you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me ! you should worry about how close t’ death you always are ! that ain’t right and you know it ! ❞ pink specs fill eyes instead of floating around aimsly, breathing quickening as one struggles to control themselves . . he didn’t mean any harm, but she hated people putting themselves in harms way for no reason !
NAYELIPEREZ . . . what was your plan ?? you could’ve gotten yourself killed !
plan ? never. he's all impulse, no control, action before emotion before thought. " but i didn't ! " while true, he's running on pure adrenaline and little else. life and death hardly matter to a man that walks the line in between every day. he twirls his black sword, then runs the flat side over his jeans to wipe off the gore and sheathes the weapon. not a perfect clean — it'll do for now. " are you hurt ? i won't apologize for recklessness, but i will for collateral. " there's honesty in his dark eyes when he looks at @achespink, a sincere acknowledgement for the faults he choses to claim, and a dismissal of those he doesn't.
#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * 💗 . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : modern demigod . '#dieangelo#she needs to take a walk let her take a walk
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@guiltye continued from here !
HAND GRIPS TIGHTER AROUND COLORLESS MUG FULL OF STEAMING COFFEE, face stoic of any expression as eyes bore deep into whatever soul is left in the 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔪𝔞𝔫 sitting in front of them. to sit here in front of them both, quiet and unmoving, was something different to all three of them — they hated them, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 and they hated how they took all the glory . . so why were they here and why haven’t they gotten up and left yet ?
we know why, don’t we morana ? you’re lonely, you crave attention no matter who gives it to you. this line of work leaves you pondering who’ll be with you 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔦𝔢, and you don’t want to be alone, right ? but you’ll never tell anyone you want to be around these two, you’ll never tell them that you want to follow them on whatever case they take up next — because you’re too scared of the 𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 you might face, because you’re too scared of showing any other feeling other than anger.
❝ you know, 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙽, it’s a miracle you haven’t been shot dead yet with how much you run your mouth but . . ❞ voice clips as they take their last few sips of the coffee in their hand, humming from the bitter taste on their tongue as they shrug. maybe he should’ve gotten up the moment they moved the left over liquid around in the cup, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 before throwing the coffee on him, smashing the ceramic mug over his head afterward out of pure anger and hatred for this “horrible excuse” here, ❝ sam, I need you to get up, 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚜 in the parking lot and you’re gonna watch me do it ❞
#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * ♱ . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : supernatural . '#guiltye + dean#dean dyn tag tbt#morana please you’re gonna get in trouble control your anger issues please#that poor coffee mug what did it ever do to you ?
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@execuson asked “ how are you feeling? i thought you might be hungry, so i made some tea and toast. “
LIP TWITCHES TO FORM THE SMALLEST OF SMILES UPON HURT EXPRESSION, ocean waves looking up to focus on the man who held the tray in front of them, a sudden sort of kindness filling his veins compared to the 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝 the two felt deep down in their souls towards each other. confusion contorts face as body moves on its own to stare at the food items, reaching out to grab the cup of tea and stare into its contents to make sure it wasn’t tampered with.
your father did it better, 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙚 ? perfected the temperature so it wasn’t scalding against your forked tongue, made sure it was black tea that had two sugar cubes, honey, and milk incorporated in it. when did you become such a 𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔯, morana ? when did you become so picky, so different ? when did you become a daughter longing for her father’s cooking ?
❝ thank . . you ? is this black tea ? I don’t drink anything else, funnily enough ❞ raspy shaken voice comes tumbling out, clearing at their throat to fix the way it sounds after screaming from pain and anger hours ago. 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙨, completely ruins the way they view the world, ❝ um . . do you happen to have sugar cubes, honey, and milk ? I . . if not, it’s fine, it just makes me feel better. this is good, it’s fine . . I’m satisfied ❞
#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * ♱ . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : main ( 𝟸 ) . '#execuson#these two . . oh gkd#morana vc *????? what is this and why are you doing this ??*
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@debtgun asked ‘ this sounds like a law & order interview. ’
HAZEL EYES STARE AT THE OTHER, HAND GRIPPING ONTO THE PIECES OF PAPER WITH WORDS THAT were jumbled up from hours of reading over them, slapping on the table with a loud thud out of tiredness but also out of frustration. while trying to help as best as she can, she was exhausted from her own 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 that had her hunched over a desk for five plus hours, rubbing at her temple to soothe the headache that was sinking in the more she sat at this table.
𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔪 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩, she did, and she loved helping him �� as best as she could, but sometimes she wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall and 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙴 him because of how annoyed he could make her — but at the same time, and also at the weirdest time, 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲
❝ I’m just asking you simple questions about everything that’s going on so I can figure out what to do and if I can help you out ! ❞ 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔲𝔢 curling around her words, eye twitching as she sits down on the chair in front of him before placing her head in her hands, ❝ please answer the question, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥, before I cry and go to bed, and then you end up sleeping on the couch or the air mattress, laying up all night in your own sorrow for annoying me ❞
#iii. ' * . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : main ( 𝟸 ) . '#iii. ' * . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : queued . '#debtgun#prim vc *LET ME HELP YOU GOD*
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THE DAUGHTER OF APHRODITE only laughed softly in response, eyes softening staring at the girl while knowing how scared annette may have been finding this out in one go. she was nine when she found out about who her mother truly was, that the greek gods were real and she was a child of one of them . . but finding out you were a vessel for the oracle of delphi ? even nayeli didn’t think she would be able to handle such a thing. ❝ of course you’re not insane, cariño . . it’ll take some getting used to, but at least you know your true calling in a sense ? ❞ soft spoken words fall out of plump lips followed by a striking smile, gently grasping onto hands in front of her before dragging the other away from the big house, ❝ why don’t we go on a stroll, yeah ? the strawberry fields are really pretty right now, and it’s quiet since there’s a search party out and about at the moment ! ❞
@achespink: you've been through a lot today. / accepting.
that's certainly one way to put it. while she's relieved to find out she has not, all these years, simply been losing her mind, a whole new can of worms has opened in its stead. there are monsters out there. & gods. (plural. one of them gave her this gift. can it even be called that?) apparently, the last oracle, as they were calling annette, was some mummy from the seventies. which didn't really inspire excitement. this girl speaking to her now is the first one to talk to her like a person, & not some fabled thing. "y-yeah, no, um ... no k-kiddin-ng. ... least i know i'm not, um. not, like. i-in - ins-sane. y'kn-now?" an adjustment of her glasses. imagine, seeing into the future without a hitch but not being able to see ten feet in front of you.
#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * 💗 . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : the lost hero ( 𝟹 ) . '#publicabsent#nayeli vc : don’t mind how quiet it is our favorite boy is missing and we’re taking it hard !
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𝚃𝙰𝙶 𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌 :
#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : closed starter . '#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : open starter . '#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : inbox prompts . '#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : mains call . '#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : exclusives call . '#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : affiliates call . '#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : queued . '#iii. ' * 💒 . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : plotting call . '
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@guiltye ( 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙽 ) asked ❛ Okay. Yes, sir. I’ll perfectly calibrate my tone as I tell you to go fuck yourself. ❜
MOVEMENTS HALT IN KITCHEN OF MOTEL DUE TO WORDS, brows furrowing as body turns to face hunter they had grown used to after months of sticking around — staying was never in mind, was never the plan when it came to running into the winchesters two years ago, but here they were, throwing together a meal with a shitty pan on a shitty stove in the wee hours of the morning, only to be snapped at by the man they have grown the closest to out of the brothers. eyes flicker to look over the annoyed countenance adoring his face, leaning against dirty countertop that was in dire need of cleaning to allow him to finish his tantrum, ❝ are you done now, child I didn’t know I was raising ? you can make this breakfast yourself, y’know ? ❞ head tilts after sentence comes to an end, grabbing the coffee brewing in the pot to pour dean a cup, taking the smallest sip before he could grab it, ❝ wow, so delicious, maybe I’ll keep this cup for myself and you can make your own, засранец ❞
#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * ♱ . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : supernatural . '#guiltye + dean#translation : asshole#OKEJSJS THEY’RE SO DONE WITH HIM
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@imperide asked 15) sender picks up receiver and places them on the hood of their car while talking.
VOICES IN BACKGROUND FADE OUT AS hazel eyes stare up at masked beauty, hands staying hidden in bomber jacket covered in too many patches to count, paint faded and stitches fraying at the end from too many wears — but it was sentimental to the racer, being her good luck charm every single race the two of them compete in together. it never let her down, so there was no reason to change her ways and even then, why should she ? ❝ how much money do you think we’ll get today ? what sad, rich boy is gonna use NOS way too early in the race, and then spin out like they always do before he reaches the pretty finish lin— ❞ words being cut off at hands grabbing onto waist, lifting her up and placing her on the hood of his car, keeping hands there safely as axl stands guard in front of her, ❝ line, is what I meant to say . . I just don’t think anyone is gonna be able to win a race against the two of us, is all i’m saying ❞
#iii. ' * . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#. ���' * . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : fast and furious/racing . '#imperide#I’m foaming at the mouth leave me alone
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❝ THE EYES TELL A STORY, MORANA ❞ a familiar quote the hunter remembered hearing, mother’s voice ringing in ears and wrapping around head to soothe the ever growing headache due to the situation the two were speaking about. it took a lot of energy out of them to speak on it, fingers scraping against each other as nails rip at the skin wrapped around her skeleton from the feelings she could never speak out loud to anyone else but sam. confiding in him for serious topics and thoughts, especially one that involved his brother dying in the next few months, crossing fingers for much longer. ❝ I know, but I can’t . . I don’t want him to give up hope. we’ll figure something out . . we always do, sam ❞ eyes downcast to look at the floor instead of looking over at the youngest winchester, too fearful to show her true emotions to even him, ❝ I don’t want him to go, sam . . is that selfish ? to tell death or whatever to fuck off and find someone else to murder ? ❞
I’m not giving up hope. ( sam <3 )
there's always been a sense of devotion that bleeds between his brother and morana, one that sometimes sam doesn't understand the language of. they know each other through bruised fists, and split lips. but then he sees the way that they wrap their limbs around each other and laugh about it afterwards; take bets on who can kick whose ass, and put it to the test. there's an intimacy that spreads in the air whenever morana and dean land eyes on each other, and the avoidance of talking about them when it's just he and his brother on the road again only attests to the suspicion that there's something that lays therein between them. the expiration date that is tattooed on dean's ribs has been a sensitive subject, one that none of them wish to touch if they can help it; but the clock is ticking, and they are starting to run out of time. "i'm glad you're not, mor," sam says with a breath of a whisper, riding on the coattails of a choked chuckle as he continues, "because i think he's startin' to."
#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * ♱ . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : supernatural . '#guiltye + sam#I CANNOT DO THIS ANYMORE
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@sarahbraeden continued from here !
DARK EYES FLICK UP TO BORE INTO THE SOUL OF ONE DIRTY BLONDE, lip twitching to show sharp grin , one that 𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩 you could have in her as hunter leans back against cafe chair, throwing arm over the back of it while foot kicks out to push chair out, silently telling the girl to sit down and join them for a bit to have a conversation. they weren’t surprised . . okay, maybe a little, to see the woman in front of them — 𝚂𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙷 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚁𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝚁𝙰𝙴𝙳𝙾𝙽 in the flesh, asking for their help, telling them they had a job ? how surprising in their eyes . .
it wasn’t often that people came to ask you for personal jobs, morana, wasn’t it ? you were jumping out of your seat, 𝙫𝙞𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 just to hear what could be awaiting you — were you gonna be paid ? or was this free ? were you gonna kill someone . . or something ? or was this woman no fun at all ? and with the smirk on her face, you couldn’t help but mirror it, folding your 𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰 in front of you, itching to grab onto your very own weapon and run out to complete the task you were given
❝ oh ? is that so ? pray tell, braeden . . what the hell do you need so bad that you had to come to me for it ? ❞ fingers tap rhythmically on table, hand gasping onto coffee mug only to take the smallest sip, 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 as chuckle falls out of them, ❝ I couldn’t have been your first choice, right ? but if I was . . that’s so cute, you’re desperate for someone to complete this little job and I’m the only competent one to complete it well. 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙜𝙤, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 ❞
#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * ♱ . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : supernatural . '#sarahbraeden#sarahbraeden dyn tag tbt#morana looks like a kid on christmas
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@fleuramor asked ❛ you’re late . as usual . ❜
EYE TWITCHES AT THE SOUND OF SHRILL VOICE FILLING THEIR EARS, hands falling to their sides as sharp nails dig 𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 into tan skin, struggling to keep thoughts to themselves about the words spoken to them. late . . late ? it was a train, one that came on time and they were on time. 𝙨𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 ? she couldn’t wrap her head around it but instead, said nothing at first, standing next to their companion who looked as innocent as ever compared to them.
but it was fake, 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙞𝙩 ? that innocence they held, those doe eyes, none of it was real like you believed it to be at first. you thought of her as someone who couldn’t hurt a fly, but you were taken back by her methods of fighting, by how she held herself against those who looked down at her. 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ? because you hated her, you hated every little thing about the black-haired beauty next to you, and she knew it.
❝ late ? the damn train isn’t even here, sweetheart, maybe think of something else to say to me instead of that ❞ snake hisses as forked tongue pokes out of mouth, biting down on it to force themselves to keep it together. no point in arguing when everything went through one ear and out the other, ❝ and is this an appropriate outfit ? so many spots for you to get sliced at, 𝙠𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙚, and I’m not staying by your side 24/7 to stop that from happening ❞
#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iv. ' * ♱ . 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : bullet train . '#fleuramor#morana is shaking her like a chew toy#BADLY
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𝚃𝙰𝙶 𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌 :
#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : threads . '#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : closed starter . '#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : open starter . '#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : inbox prompts . '#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : mains call . '#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : exclusives call . '#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : affiliates call . '#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : queued . '#iii. ' * ♱ . 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴 . ◞ : plotting call . '
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