@holyfated / sc.

“do i have something on my face?” someone’s forgotten to wipe the speck of blood from his cheek – oops! “c’mooon, where is it? this is so embarrassing!”

"Looked through your panties drawer." He didn't actually do that.

@holyfated

@holyfated

gita vc: why are you in one of my coffins?

"..."

"Umm...~ Does it have your name on it?"

"Bold of Gita to say I'm a walking target, considering some of the things she works with..."

@holyfated liked for the extra mini!

"It's both beautiful and sad don't you think? The concept of Autumn, that everything is dying but it is a time of harvest and happiness too."

" UNFORTUNATELY FOR YOU , DEAR , I've yet to really leave your side , haven't i ? worry not . I know how to behave . "

@holyfated

" AND THIS ONE is named after the heroic saint george . and this one named for the archangel , zadkiel . " one , a thumbscrew . the other , a long , thin blade .

@holyfated

@holyfated ／ 💣

"Oh..." A small acknowledgment's given, quickly brushed aside along with the actual, literal dusting off of hand against left shoulder. No sustainable damage (why would there be? he hasn't touched her-- yet.) was evident, but he's still squeezing off any filth dust as he's come to a stop. Kira stands a few inches in front of the young woman, head coming up in a slow lift before turning itself over his shoulder. "My apologies." Eyes blinked (no recollection but he knows her. it's the same face, same mind, after all. a slut, at the end of the day, is still a slut.) down, starting at her feet as they drifted upwards. He speaks with a calm, practiced ease (apt of a true gentleman.) yet doesn't meet her square in the eye. "You're on your way home, I assume, Miss...?"

" huh? " one, two, three blinks. " i think i walked in on something i wasn't supposed to see. " a tilt of the head, interest clear in cobalt eyes. " i was told a vampire would be around here...? " /@holyfated

She noticed an odd, gluttonous aura behind her as she collected her debt. The only thing she didn't need were the arms and a few limbs. She stands from her work, turning to face where the presence came from as she motioned to the corpse. ❝ It's all yours. ❞

Zetsu had followed the smell of flesh thinking he'd find someone having been mauled by wild animals. It's a bit of a surprise to find an excentric looking lady decapitate someone out in the woods, no headbands on her body. A civilian killing another civilian? The earth beneat her feet tells them that she's no civilian, but something different. Either way, it's of little importance to them.

"How kind of you, stranger~. How does she know you eat flesh? Who cares, I'll enjoy the snack."

@holyfated / sc.

“——did you really think you were alone~?”

Watches as @holyfated 's Gita befriends the other Akatsuki members while he has been reduced to a zombie slave by her.

"Hn.... Interresting..."

❝ i’ll hear the truth, or you’ll wear chains. ❞ [ groazei aka alucard ]

A FEAST FOR CROWS @groazei

"What chains could you shackle me with that you have not already bestowed upon me!"

-> Voice noisy like rust scraping over stone, ragged with each of their heaving breaths that tickle their throat until they think they'll fall into a fit of hacking coughs; he had taunted and herded them into a long, thin English alleyway built high between buildings with old, greyed brick and like a fool they had thought they could escape him at the last moment. Of course not. Not him---Hellsing's finest monster, master of all he surveyed as his domain, a dog barely reined in by its leash. Leaving the organization had gained Lyric ground but lost them any of its frivolous protections from his savagery: the socket where the eye he had plucked out with his fingers, no anesthesia, had once been feels painfully empty now behind the patch of cloth. ( they wonder what they might lose this time. what new terror and tragedy he will inflict upon them. their body trembles with the fear of what has not yet happened to them. ) In the corner of the dead-end, their arms are wrapped around their ribs as if it will stop his teeth or hands from tearing through them however he likes; they are pushed as far back into the dark as they can be while they feel their lip quiver and their eyes water---they are so sick of being afraid, and yet it is all they can do. Cower and yelp like a small beast, lash out against him and be brutally reprimanded, try to be free or escape him again only to find no success. He takes one long step closer. The height of his body seems stretched dramatically as he boughs over them like the willow, one hand placed palm-flat on the wall next to their head. They can hardly see any more of his expression in this position than the inhuman glow of his eyes and the faint reflected light that catches the lines of his gaunt body. ( they hate this. they hate him. ) ( they know what he wants. )

"Leave me be!"

-> The victim's desperate plea. All the force in their chest that cracks off the walls and fade into the dead night, every building empty and with them any chance of dragging in more lambs to the slaughter. ( what about help? help was beyond them in this equation. ) They are so strong---or they try to be. Try to bear the weight of their past and the weight of the mistakes of others on their back and never complain; they work hard, diligently, they do what they can until their hands crack; they make amends everywhere they can, so why is this happening? What have they done to deserve it? They are so sick with hate in the pit of their gut it makes them want to do anything, say anything so they may never set eyes on him again, but he comes back! Again, again, again, always with more taunts and more tortures! He bleeds their reactions from them drop by drop as if it something to be savored, his appetite which can never be satiated forced upon them who never wanted it. Was their eye not enough grief for him? What else will he take? Their liver; their kidneys; their fingers, one at a time? They fear many hands and many eyes upon them, dissecting them like fresh kill. They fear him, and hate him, and it makes their head fill with such pain it wants to split right in two looking at him right now. ( what of Anderson? what of Anderson? where was he to tame his beast, his lover? his quarry? where was he to spare them of this, an innocent? how dare he look away---how dare he look away! )

"What else can you take from me! I can't sleep, I can't work, I have no one to turn to!"

( how could any of them LOOK AWAY! )

"There is nothing left in me for you! You're spending your nights, the terrible No Life King, chasing a NOBODY!"

@holyfated​   //   cont. 

Kuvira remained rooted, unfaltering  ——  AN UNWAVERING GAZE,  steel eyes looking at the shorter person who stood before her. “Whoever said I was referring to you?”

❝  The  voices  in  my  head  keep  on  telling  me  I'm  cursed,  ❞   he told @holyfated. He wasn't even sure if it was his voice who told him such a thing. All Angeal knew was that it told him such cruel words more often than not and he hated it.

     " Oh~ A Quincy. "    And his eyes had found the presence so soon. Wandering the premises after whoever had formerly frequented them, had left already, returned to where they came from, allowing that he would divide his attention anew. 

     He was taking his time to just look. A tilt of his head followed soon after, meticulously, calculated [ a puppet led on strings ], before a hand raised to cradle his chin in deep thought. But only for a few seconds it would last.     " It is rude to hide and stare. I know you are there, come on out. "     With how his voice had a tone laced with something else. What a peculiar incident, and one that was so surely bothersome---

     ---should he care to elaborate for this or that person.

     " What is it with your kind and unannounced visits~? How impolite~ "     @holyfated​ ♡