astronzetto-blog

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@waitingfcrtomorrow

“I see that time has done absolutely nothing to improve that worthless excuse for a personality. But, that is to be expected considering who and what you are.” He spoke of her as one would a matter of filth. “And here I’d been hoping you dogs would simply eat each other. But that would be too much to ask, it seems.”

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@okinasekai

“Welcome, my child. Welcome. The church welcomes you. God welcomes you. What is it that I can do to help you today, hm?”

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Dolloftheangel 🔪10. Honestly it sounded better the other way around but let's see what happens

send in  “🔪+ a number” for your muse to impale mine with their weapon of choice.

1. through the heart (reversed)

“W-what? How are you still standing?!”

A knife straight through the heart should send anyone to their graves post haste, so what in the hell was keeping this man-this thing standing? Through the heart...It was sticking straight out where the heart should be at least but...there had been no weight to that man’s body. There had been no torque. No give. If Enrico did not know any better, he’d say he’d just stabbed a pillow rather than a man. 

“What manner of creature are you?”

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Send “Pain is weakness leaving the body” and I will randomly generate how your muse will find mine

[Random Number Generator can be found here]

with a broken arm

with a broken leg

dehydrated

with a concussion

with a stab wound

hungover

after a bar fight

with the flu

with (a) broken rib(s)

with sore muscles

after falling down the stairs

with a twisted ankle

blinded temporarily

with ringing ears

with a burn

after running into a door

out in the cold without warm clothes

covered in blood

overly exhausted

after a nightmare

after losing part/all of their memory

with a black eye

rper’s choice!

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*switches language to talk shit about you*

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🔪 surprise me u dank ass meme

send in  “🔪+ a number” for your muse to impale mine with their weapon of choice.

7. Through the stomach

He was no fan of Olivia. Olivia was no fan of his. She was a vile little girl made of malice and violence and all things wicked. The only thing that had kept him from purging her was their active accord-well, the accord between Iscariot and Hellsing. Maxwell was not ignorant to all of their mutual benefits either. The other was as useful to him as they to the other. 

So what, exactly, propelled Sir Integra Fairbrookes Wingates Hellsing to end their alliance and start a war? What had called for his death above all else? Above the saftey of humanity? Above the watchful protection of the Lord? Above His very word? Madness. This was absolute madness.

Of course, that was not among the first things that came to him. No, the first things were blood, wet, rivers, and pain. Death. Death. Death. I’m dying. I can’t be dying. I can’t be dying. What? What? Why?

“You little cur...” the priest wheezed. He would scream if he could once more. His gloved hands were wrapped around the knife still deep in his insides. There was no white left. “You heathen! You devil! I will end you for this! God will end you for this!”

A little tug to pull it out and he was nearly on the floor. The red began to pour through his teeth. For that moment, the room seemed to darken but all he could see were shades of white. 

“I should have known you would do this one day. What a fool I was for not slitting your throat sooner. How long have you been waiting? I could see the desire to do this very deed since the first day we met.” And yet the answer was of no importance. It was not idle chatter he sought to soothe him into death, but the hot metal within his back pocket. Yes. There it was. “I have to admit myself, Olivia, I had wanted the same for you.”

The gun nearly slipped from his fingers as he whipped it forward and 

bang bang bang bang bang bang.

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send in  “🔪+ a number” for your muse to impale mine with their weapon of choice.

through the heart.

through the side of their body.

through the shoulder

through the arm

through the leg

through the thigh

through the stomach

through the chest

through the hand

( writer’s choice. )

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if your muse has trust & abandonment issues clap your hands

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𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫:

   ❝ I am sorry, does this bother you? ❞, the raven-haired feigns interest in knowing while moving his finger in circles inside of the holy water. Michaelis would have swallowed the liquid to add insult to injury but the man’s question forced him to stop, offering a dragged out hum which only grew distorted by the second. ❝ My true nature? We have just met and you are trying to shed me of my human appearance? Now, now, priest — you ought to have more patience and self-control. ❞, finger would be shaken to the side to dry as the water turned black.

Black...that black essence poisoning the Holy Water of Christ...by God...Possa Dio essere con me...He stumbled back, a breath fleeing from his lungs. It was true. This was no ordinary man as the choir boy has said. Burning hold adrenaline shot through his veins like a potent acid willing his heart to continue. 

“How dare you taint this holy cathedral, you monster! You demon! You fool! You are in the very heart of the Lord Almighty!” Enrico bellowed. His eye shook in perpetual unevenness, one  stuck low while the other nearly popping from his head. His lips trembled, in fury, hate, or fear he could not tell. The cross that rested atop the plastic buttons of his shirt was swung forward in his hands, nearly spitting as he done so. “You will pay for your sins against my men-the very tools of GOD!”

“I will not ask you again, you vile beast. Reveal yourself before the Holy Ghost or tremble upon the word of God.”

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haikxra:

      It’s probably not wise to provoke the Iscariot leader, but she doesn’t consider herself to be wise and besides, it’s so much fun. Obito’s smile blossoms into a grin as she lays the document in his hand, twirling a bit. It doesn’t seem as though the execution comment has dampened her mood even a little.

      “I just thought a letter opener would be ideal. I would haaaaaate for you to get a paper cut, sir. Oh! Speaking of blood, did you know that there are sharks that can smell even a drop of blood from miles and miles away? Cool riiiiiight?”

         The smile shifts into something eerie and the twirling stops abruptly as she states.  “Do you think HE’S the same way?”

        She’s got another document for him. One stating just how far Father Alexander Anderson has been sent to purify a vampire; much too far to help the likes of Maxwell. She drums her fingers against the official papers she just took from his desk, taunting him with the knowledge that there will be no one there able to stand against the Hellsing vampire without getting obliterated. 

                 “Can’t you feel him, sir? Lurking, hiding out. Waiting. You didn’t think Sir Integra would have sent me  a l o n e, did you?”

No way that Hellsing bitch would have sent her mongrel into his headquarters. That would be breaking every single stipulation of their accord. That would be a threat upon himself, Iscariot, the Catholic Church-anything and everything that resided here within the confines of these walls. She had no right! Unless...unless Integra had meant to rid herself of them after all. Was it as tempting for her as it was for him? There was no other voices within her temple to cry dissent. And, he stared down the little monster before him, much had already broken with her presence here if she were not merely a messenger. He could not fathom that was all she was. It would be too foolish. Her threats. Her arrogance. She behaved as a girl with all of the weapons.

His mind reeled and shifted into an overdrive. The demon could be lurking in any corner. How come he did not see this before? How come he did not think to protect himself from this threat? Of course that woman was mad! Mad and stupid and likely to cause war at any chance because that is what heathens do! He was here! Alucard was here! A-

“ANDERSON!”

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“Oh will you now? But now you should imagine what might I do now that you’ve threatened my life all of twice in a few mere moments. I was willing to overlook your first misdeed, but God is far more forgiving than I. You seem to forget with whom you are speaking.”

“Maybe I will reward your disrespect with a withdrawal from the accord. We will see how long Hellsing lasts without the Vatican’s guidance. Damn you, your Protestant whores. Damn all of England! Is that what you want, gavone?”

     “THE DAY you and I get along is the day when pigs fly. Trust me, you and I might be working along side one another, but if you ever JOKE like that again, I will make sure you write a message to God in your blood. Doesn’t that sound like fun, dimwit? Oh, I could bounce on my heels like a school girl at the mental image!”

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“I see.”

Patience, for what little he knew, was brittle and thin. Fire bloomed within his lungs. He could hear his teeth strain under the pressure of the rising infuriation. To hear it-just to know it-brought about an ache for a certain woman’s neck to concave beneath his fingers. 

This envelop of hers better have contained something worthwhile, or atonement would come to pass. That, Maxwell could guarantee.  

The priest held his hand outward in command for the letter. He could feel his squinting eyes begin to twitch. “I do not require a squire. I can read perfectly well, little girl. Now hand me that letter before I come to my senses and have you executed this very moment, as you deserve.”

          “Just one so far!” She speaks so casually and cheerfully, but the underlying threat still remains. But there’s a dismissive flap of her hand. “He’s alive, don’t worry. I just couldn’t be seen till I got here, y’know? Buuuuuuuuuuut he’s probably going to need to see a doctor; I hear head injuries like that are, like,  suuuuper bad for you.”

        The man is lucky he’ll be able to walk off with the use of his legs intact. Obito’s training hasn’t exactly made her a gentle person and Sir Integra had specifically told her to get in without being spotted by any means necessary.

       “Do you have a letter opener? I woulda gotten it myself but it woulda been kinda rude if I poked through your desk.” The envelop is lifted higher, a request that the document inside be opened and soon. That smile never wavers. 

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I am made of untamable demons and unfillable voids.

Ira V. Simon (via wordsnquotes)

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“What? I was merely playing around. Do you have to take everything so seriously? And here I thought we were finally getting along. Though, I understand it must be difficult for a witless troglodyte to fathom the concept of temporary allegiance-ship.”

@astronzetto

     “SO HAVE you decided how you would like to die? I would not mind making sure it comes to flourish.”

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The pounding of drums slammed into his ears and pushed through the flesh of his throat. In that single little moment, he had seen a vision of death. 

But now, all he laid eyes on was a little girl who intruded within the confines of his residency, his home, his sacred ground, and sent by the word of that Protestant dog no less. To threaten his life so offhandedly! His fingers itched to summon his executioners to eliminate this little pigeon. What useless whelps he commanded to allow a mere girl free reign upon this place.

Words built up upon his tongue. Thoughts cascaded into a suffocating whirlpool. 

“How many of my men have you injured?”

@astronzetto

      “You know, your security should proooobably be a little more attentive. They hardly even noticed me. What if I was an assassin or something?” She’s casual about it, the way she’s seated herself on the edge of the table, absently swinging her legs. The child had been surprised with how easy it had been to slip past the bodyguards, even with her level of training. With her demeanor she could easily be gloating about it.

     She makes a little show of checking her watch, maintaining the attitude of a happy child before she slips off the edge of the table and onto her feet. “You took a lot longer than I thought you would, but that’s okay. I did kinda let myself in.”

     "But don’t worry. I’m just a messenger. Sir Integra told me to make sure you got this personally.“ She pulls the manila envelope out of what could easily be confused for a book bag and all but skips over to hand it to the man. "You are Enrico Maxwell, right?”

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A shiver crawled down his spine in such an intrusive caress. Whatever doubts he had held previously for the claims his Iscariot minions had touted seemed to vanish with that look.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Stop wasting my time and reveal your true nature before the eyes of the Lord, demon. Or do you require a little more persuasion?”

@astronzetto

   Looks at the priest dead in the eye, teeth tugging at white glove    for bare fingers to dip into the cup of holy water. He just smiles.