Dave Strider Cosplay Novels & Stories

Franklin Sterling POV "David Duskbane? Why the hell is your high throne standing inside this tent?" Tahlia Sterling squeaks out, his eyes turning wide with absolute terror as his fingers instantly drop Sam’s shirt fabric. If the supreme Warlord is standing right here in the center of the camp, Tahlia’s lying tongue can no longer pretend to the crew that his skin is good friends with the Duskbane Keep alliance! To his utter shock, another slender, well-built male figure slowly appears from behind David’s massive shoulder. The young man is enchantingly handsome, wearing simple leather hunting gear and zero face paints. His skin looks as fair and smooth as fine valley porcelain. Though he is ju

The feeling that had not wholly disappeared made Dave's hand clenched into a strong fist. Like his plan yesterday, the man was on standby in the office yard this morning. A black leather jacket and jeans are his costume today, not to forget the MLB cap and matching mask to complete his disguise. Obviously, with all that, neither Eve nor Gery will recognize him. They continued to walk together past Dave just like that. "Sometimes I get tired of hearing grandma talk about you. Even though she knows, the one who meets you more often is me. Ah, are all parents like that? The story goes round and round."

Drake had suddenly materialized in front of her, grinning stupidly like an idiot. I'm over here, you wanderer. I'm home! "He spoke in a rambling way. The pupils in Emily's eyes drew farther apart, and she even blinked her eyes twice. You're not real, that's for sure. You are nothing more than a copy of the Drake!" She let out a scream. Emily's head was softly caressed with a kiss at this moment. "Stray, I'm not a clone," Drake murmured huskily. He gave me a knowing wink and said, "If I were a clone, I wouldn't be here, embracing my arms around your waist."

It was the kind that didn’t fall. It descended—like a predator. Every wolf went still, ears lowering instinctively. Bootsteps echoed. One-two-three. From the rear of the chamber—five figures entered. Hybrids. Not wolves. Not vampires. Something forged from both bloodlines—stronger, rarer, feared. The audience parted without instruction. Dave Stark walked at the center. Tall. Severe. His tailored black suit hugged shoulders built to carry kingdoms. His hair—dark as obsidian—fell in loose strands over eyes carved in storm-gray stone. He was the kind of beautiful that hurt to look at. Sunlight through stained glass. Death wrapped in silk.

"I’m just laughing okay. It seems like that guy hate his job. From the way he speaks it looks like this is the last thing he wanted to do, and not to mention roller blades?" "As I said, they mainly attract teenagers." He continue chuckling while shaking his head. "Did you see the costume he wears and the wig?" I agree with him. The wig is very big and pointy. Not to mention the clothes he wears is not his size. I can’t help joining him too. I mean that’s the worse cosplay I ever seen in my life. "See… you’re laughing too."

Miss Ivy commanded without a care for what had happened to me. I followed her out of the room. Within the hallway, we meet Alpha Strider. His dark hair was messy as if he had just gotten up. He was now wearing a white shirt that looked the same as the one he had given me and the dark pants from yesterday. With a straight face, he halted, staring at me. His stare was so powerful, I stopped, overcome by great fear, and I found myself lowering to the tiled floor, scared. "Get up," said Miss Ivy, stopping to see me.

I froze, stepping back and pressing myself against the cool wall. “I don’t know who you are,” I heard him say and I frowned, curious about what was going on. Who was he talking to? Carefully, I peeked from around the corner and I saw Kade standing a few feet away. He looked tense, with his hands curled into a fist as he stared at a boy I didn’t recognize. The stranger was slightly shorter than him, with dark hair that fell across his face. I hadn’t seen him before and he painted his face with colors from Velmora.

Duke speaks up in his defense and stops when the door opens and a tall, dark, yet identical figure of Zane stands by the door! The resemblance is uncanny! Like Zane got into a photocopier. The stranger is clad in a pair of tight denim and a black leather jacket. His jet-black hair is styled in a chaotic wave. Charming and chaotic. A helmet is strapped between his ribs and his arm. “Cleo?” His sultry baritone rings in my head, and my name is soft on his lips. He casually strolls in, too hot for his own good. “Damn the photos, Duke. She’s fucking fine.”

Strider, clad in Wyvern Peak’s battle suit, stood proudly before Jerome and shielded him. He emanated an aura that could shift the winds and shape eternity. His presence ignited an unprecedented surge of passion. Strider's appearance ignited a fervent wave of enthusiasm. Countless people cheered as excitement coursed through them. They thought it was the end for Jerome when he fell. Nobody had expected Strider, the newly appointed tenth battle warrior of Wyvern Peak, to arrive with an invincible demeanor.