#seras was busy in the coffin

[cry-ptidd]

For some reason, I think of Pip as bi. IDK why but he just gives me vibes that way Is it just me or is that a vibe other people have picked up on?

I’m so glad I’m not the only one with the Not-Het-Pip agenda

He definitely fucks his fellow comrades and doesn’t only pick up girls at bars

Somehow it’s way funnier if he’s in denial about it

[bunny-bluue]

Many people in the Hellsing Organization have either moved on or chose to keep themselves busy from mourning the absence of Alucard the day he vanished. Integra and Seras chose to keep a positive outlook and waited patiently, knowing for sure that he would be back someday. But for Sorina, her mourning was different. She knew that he wasn’t gone and that he would be back someday as well but mentally, she was depressed, knowing that her king wouldn’t be there with her for yet another long period of time. As you already know, rather than going back to living luxuriously like she did in the past, she chose to stay at the Hellsing Manor and wait for her king in his room. The first few years, she would sit at his throne (never sit on it because that was his throne) and wander aimlessly through her memories of him and their past together. She would occasionally drink the wine? or blood? that was left in Alucard’s room to sustain herself and such but when she didn’t feed for good amount of time both Integra and Seras would provide her blood bags. Then when 20 years had passed, Sorina decided to sleep in her coffin to regain and preserve her strength until she chooses to wake up once again. In a way, this is Sorina’s turn to mourn her love in her own torturous way just like Alucard did with the painting he made of her back in his castle in Transylvania. These two really are made for each other.

[xtruss]

Many of Italy's Elite Turn Out For Ex-Premier Silvio Berlusconi's State Funeral in Milan

Italy’s political, business and soccer elite bade farewell to former Premier Silvio Berlusconi with a state funeral inside Milan’s imposing Duomo cathedral

— By Colleen Barry | Associated Press | June 14, 2023

MILAN — Italy’s political, business and soccer elite bade farewell to former Premier Silvio Berlusconi with a state funeral inside Milan’s imposing Duomo cathedral on Wednesday, while thousands of ordinary admirers and soccer fans waved banners and chanted in the piazza outside.

It was a fitting send-off for a man who made billions as a media mogul, upended the Italian political system as three-time premier and championed two winning soccer clubs.

But even as Italians overwhelmingly agree that Berlusconi has left the greatest mark on Italy over four decades of business and politics, not all think it was for the best. It was a judgement that shadowed him even in death, as both his legacy and the pomp surrounding his funeral were hotly debated.

Milan Archbishop Mario Delpini didn’t gloss over Berlusconi’s complicated legacy in his punchy eulogy, saying he was a businessman who found success and failure, a politician who won and lost, and a notoriety-seeking personality who had admirers and detractors, “those who applaud him and those who detest him.”

“But in this moment of farewell and prayer, what can we say about Silvio Berlusconi? He has been a man: a desire for life, a desire for love, a desire for joy,” Delpini said. “He is a man, and now he meets God.”

Mourners inside the cavernous Gothic-era cathedral rose to their feet as Berlusconi’s coffin, bedecked in red and white roses, was pushed down the main nave to the altar to haunting choral music. Their applause quickened as it reached the altar, trailed by his children and companion, who openly wept.

The pews were filled with three ex-premiers, none of them Berlusconi allies; Italy’s president, Premier Giorgia Meloni, whose government relies on the support of Berlusconi's party, along with their third coalition partner, League leader Matteo Salvini and a host of ministers past and present. Captains of industry also paid their respects, as did representatives from the soccer world he loved.

With Berlusconi out of power for more than a decade, just two heads of government attended the funeral: Hungarian President Viktor Orban and Qatar’s ruling emir, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani.

One of his closest remaining allies on the international scene, Russian President Vladimir Putin, offered heartfelt condolences from Moscow. Other nations sent ambassadors to the funeral organized just two days following his death Monday after being hospitalized for treatment of chronic leukemia.

Critics challenged whether Berlusconi deserved a state funeral, an honor that can be bestowed on former heads of state, or the more rarely invoked national day of mourning that saw flags flying at half-staff and canceled all political activity not related to charity.

“Berlusconi split Italy, he insulted adversaries for 30 years, he criminalized the magistrates and he didn’t recognize laws. What are we talking about?″ journalist Marco Travaglio, a long-time Berlusconi critic and co-founder of the il Fatto Quotidiano daily, told private La7 TV on Tuesday.

Berlusconi’s detractors’ list of political damage is long, including conflicts of interest relating to his media empire, dozens of trials mostly for business dealings, revelations of sex-fueled bunga-bunga parties at his villa near Milan and questionable associations, including his enduring friendship with Putin.

“He is not a leader who helped us grow,’’ said Beppe Severgnini, a long-time foreign correspondent and writer for Corriere della Sera. “He tapped all of our weaknesses: moral, fiscal, sexual, everything.”

But critics, including some in the political opposition, stayed away from the funeral, while thousands of admirers filled the central piazza. They included fans of the clubs Berlusconi nurtured, AC Milan and AC Monza, who waved enormous banners as Berlusconi’s casket entered the cathedral. As it exited, they chanted affectionately: “Berlusconi is one of us."

Barbara Cacellari, a councilwoman in the central Italian town of Bolognola and one-time Forza Italia candidate for the European Parliament, said protests over how to officially mark Berlusconi’s death showed a lack of respect.

“The person must be respected per se. He is a person who represents the history of this country,” she said outside the cathedral, adding: “No one is without stains, I think.”

Berlusconi, who had an outsized impact on Italian politics for three decades in his role as leader of the center-right Forza Italia party, is widely recognized as a precursor to the type of populist politics that later would bring Donald Trump to power in the United States. Both used their high profile as businessmen to springboard into the political arena, reordering the political status quo along the way.

Supporters of Berlusconi’s legacy cite his success in unifying the Italian center-right after the collapse of the post-war political landscape with the 1990s “Clean Hands” corruption scandal. They also see his years as leader as periods of stabilization after years of quickly rotating governments while admiring his bold rule-breaking and irreverence, perhaps especially in the face of other global leaders.

Many mourners inside the cathedral and out in the piazza alike were motivated to pay their respects by Berlusconi’s famous empathy and personal warmth, which even critics recognized as one of his greatest gifts.

Forza Italia Mayor Luca Veggian of Carate Brianza, near Milan, said Berlusconi had invited him to his villa just 12 days ago to congratulate him on his success in recent city administration elections, winning the most votes for Forza Italia in any contest. The 39-year-old mayor credited Berlusconi with mentoring a new generation of political leaders now running small cities throughout Italy.

“We saw he was physically tried,’’ Veggian said. “But he was very lucid and spoke at length about international politics” during the three-hour meeting.

For retiree Carmen Panzuto, it was Berlusconi’s personal greetings to her mother on her 100th birthday, two years ago.

“He will be in our hearts forever,’’ said Panzuto, who wore Italy’s national azzurro blue in a show of patriotism. “He was generous with everyone.”

Berlusconi was given a final salute by members of the Italian armed forces. The presidential guard carried out a wreath, followed by carabinieri in ceremonial regalia flanking the casket.

Berlusconi’s companion, 33-year-old Forza Italia lawmaker Marta Fascina, kissed the coffin before it was driven away to the Milan suburb of Arcore, where he was to be laid to rest. And his children from two marriages waved to the crowd, telling them: “Thank you for your affection.”

— Associated Press writers Andrea Rosa and Luigi Navarra in Milan and Nicole Winfield in Rome contributed.

[laski-and-sage]

Accidental AU no.2 — Streamer/Twitch AU

Well, this appears here and there in our discussions but still, Sage and I don't do anything else with it, so you may as well have it lmao

WHAT IF...... Hellsing Ultimate characters were Twitchstreamers?

- Don't get me wrong: the organizations are still there and the characters are still what they are (like...Alu's still a vamp etc.), they just have.....more freetime

- and of course they're further in the future cus if i remember correctly twitch wasn't that popular in 1999 xD

- Seras would play cute lil idle games like Stardew Valley but could still beat yo ass in any shooter

- Integra would play hidden object games only

- she'd insist that it helps her relax after a stressful day of work....but that still won't mean that she doesn't rage when she can't find something

- Pip plays Battlefield and CoD for life. If its a shooter, he's playing it.

- Alucard, surprising as it is, is the Minecraft person!

- building stuff is very therapeutic to him, he'd build stuff and scenes from his memories and past just to deal with them a bit better

- there would be a battlefield, maybe his castle, the scaffold he died on, the palace he was held hostage on – so much dark stuff but his viewers would be none the wiser :D

- they'd be just amazed by his creativity etc.

- they wouldn't even know he's a vampire, he's just some dude with a weird aesthetic and a damn good greenscreen to make it look like he lives in a dungeon....and is that a coffin in the background?? Just aesthetic :DD

- Imagine him sucking at shooters--

- Anderson being a pro at ANY game, especially at the very popular ones

- you learn much in an orphanage and if its just playing videogames with the kids

- Pip is the kind of streamer that invites all sorts of other people to his streams.

- the Hellsing squad and his men being the main people

- Streams with Alucard as guest are wild

- Pip still plays shooters, Alucard still sucks at it.... doesn't hinder him on trying

- "how tf do i shoot??" *Accidentally crouches*

- Pip is wheezing

- his character just afks somewhere, pips head is just placed on the table, he's completely quiet and just his fist slams against the very same table

- the poor guy just can't breathe

- at some point Iscariot is present during such a stream

- Alucard still sucks so Anderson just yeets him out of his chair

- legit. Ur in stream watching Alucard and suddenly a slam and he isn't there anymore lmao

- well, then there is this guy in priestgown casually sitting down and grabbing the headset

- of course there are protests in the background but Alucard has to play civil cus of public

- Anderson just slays it

- suddenly Pip has a very serious opponent

- "okay, so we're back in business! An honour to play with ya, padre!"

- respects™

- Alucard just watches in the background, suffering in silence

- "why can't this guy be on our team??" Yup, Pip complains about loosing

- now the paladin is established as one of Pips guests as well

- Organizations aside, this is gamer pride we're talking about. (Is there even such a thing? Eh)

This is all we have for now but since this appears here and there in our discussions, i'm sure more headcanons are to be added.

Still, if you want to use this AU, feel free to do so. Just tag us if you do! We'd love to read/see it!

[queerspacepunk]

Welcome to DADWC!! How about “A lifetime of laughter, at the expense of the death of a bachelor” (Panic! at the Disco, Death of a Bachelor) for Bull/Dorian?

thank u for the patience friend! I hadn't heard this song before but now I have. (Second @dadrunkwriting fill in one day? :0)

“You’re really going through with this, aren’t you?” “I really am. Are you disappointed?” Felix sighs, “I think you’re an idiot, and that this is a terrible idea but I’m also... strangely proud of you.”

To Blackwall, Cassandra, Cole, and 10 others: I was wondering if you would be free to join me tomorrow evening for... a memorial of sorts, for someone quite close to me.

To Blackwall, Cassandra, Cole, and 9 others: Room booked at the Herald’s Rest, tomorrow, 7PM.

To Sera: Room booked at the Herald’s Rest, tomorrow, 6:30PM.

From Josephine: Oh Dorian, I’m so sorry to hear this, of course we will be there! Might I ask, is this a recent loss?

To Josephine: Your presence is much appreciated. It’s something of a complicated story, I’m sure you won’t mind if I wait to tell you all at once, tomorrow evening.

From Josephine: No, of course not, forgive me for prying. Much love.

--

“You’re sure you don’t want to call this off?” Felix says through the phone.

“A little late for that now,” Dorian points out, “they’ll all be here shortly. What else can I do? Call them all and say, ‘sorry lied about the whole memorial thing, never mind’?”

“Isn’t the whole point of this that you’re lying to them?”

“Not lying,” Dorian says, “Misleading. It’s different. And I do think they’ll be a little too preoccupied to be mad, afterwards.”

“You’re really going through with this, aren’t you?”

“I really am. Are you disappointed?”

Felix sighs, “I think you’re an idiot, and that this is a terrible idea but I’m also... strangely proud of you.”

“Now, now,” Dorian admonishes gently, “there’s going to be enough sappiness later on, keep it together for me.”

Felix laughs, and Dorian can just about see him shaking his head.

“You sure you don’t want me to video call you in?”

“I’ll give the game away, just send me the recordings after, and Dorian?”

“Yes Felix?”

“Good luck.”

--

His friends arrive, almost entirely on time for once, in ones and twos and threes. Dorian greets them at the door to the private room, face solemn, and directs them to the seats he’s set out. There’s no faux coffin in the room -- he hadn’t wanted to get quite that morbid, but there is an indulgent spray of funeral flowers set at the front of the room.

Sera tries to ask questions, and is summarily shushed by Josephine. Cole tries to give answers and is dragged aside, informed, and shushed by Dorian. He doesn’t quite get it, but he must have a good feeling about the results because he keeps his mouth shut. Leliana seems to know something’s up, but is entertained enough to not say anything, and Bull gives Dorian a hell of a look, laced with enough concern that Dorian actually feels a little... guilty.

“Thank you all for coming,” Dorian says, once everyone is seated, and pulls out the stack of memorial pamphlets he’s had printed, “I appreciate your presence with me tonight, and your patience with what is a... complicated situation.”

He begins stepping around the circle, handing the pamphlets out.

“Er, Dorian,” Blackwall says, “I think there’s been a mix-up. They’ve put your picture on these.”

“Oh,” Dorian says, turning to the flowers to give him a moment to suppress the grin creeping onto his face, “no, that’s quite correct.”

“You better not be a bloody ghost!” Sera yelps, flinging her pamphlet at him as if to test her hypothesis. It manages, despite being a flat piece of paper that has no business being able to be thrown with any accuracy, to smack Dorian right in the face, which is unpleasant, but does at least seem to reassure her that he isn’t, in fact, a ghost.

None of the others seem particularly concerned that he’s undead, but there is a lot of muttering, and worried looks being pointed his way.

“You need an intervention or something, Pavus?” Krem asks with a frown, “cause I know that cries for help are actually a good thing and shit, and you Magisters-”

“Altus, Soporatus, you know better.”

“-fine, you Altus love your drama, but even this is a bit much.”

“I assure you,” Dorian says to the group at large, “this is not a cry for help.”

“You did just hand us all a funeral pamphlet with your face on it, Sparkler,” Varric points out.

“It’s not a funeral pamphlet, it’s a memorial pamphlet, and-”

“The dates are wrong,” Leliana interrupts, “The death date is a question mark so I cannot comment on that, however this is not your birthdate. You must have been... eighteen? Nineteen?”

“Eighteen,” Dorian confirms, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath, “this has all gone rather off-track, hasn’t it. If you would all just hold your questions, and nonsense,” he throws a quick glare at both Sera and Krem, “and allow me to explain things, I think you’ll find it will benefit all of us.”

Bull, Dorian notes, is watching him very, very carefully. They haven’t seen each other since yesterday which isn’t entirely unusual, given Dorian insistence that they maintain their own homes up unto this point, even if he spends most nights in Bull’s bed or with Bull in his own, but he can tell that the fact he’s said nothing about any of this to Bull is concerning him.

Nothing to be done about it now. Nothing but going forward with the plan as intended.

“We are here, this evening,” Dorian says, “to consider, and honour the life of someone I believe we all care about. Someone who has, for many years been the life of our parties, a bringer of spectacular stories and an improver of our collective fashion sense.”

“What happened to ‘im?” Sera interjects. Dorian rolls his eyes but doesn’t grizzle.

“Nothing, as of yet,” Dorian reassures them, “but the bachelor of which we speak has, while not by anyone’s definition a selfless man, has decided that there are certain things worth sacrificing one’s life for.”

They look at him (with the exception of Cole of course, and Vivienne who’s grinning like she knows the answer is is utterly uninterested in giving hints to anyone else) like he’s spouting absolute gibberish. He’d hoped his friends would be a little more advanced in their thinking, but alas. If he has to help them along, so be it.

“How,” he says, “does one kill a bachelor?”

“Shoot ‘im!” Sera suggests.

“Blunt force trauma?” Krem asks, “to the head?”

Leliana hums quietly, “poison?”

“Blessed Maker,” Dorian says aghast, “what is wrong with you?”

“Hate to break it to you,” Herah points out, “but you did invite us all along to what is looking a lot like a fake memorial service for yourself. Your high horse is more of a rocking pony.”

Dorian rolls his eyes, “how long did it take you to think of that?”

Herah pouts, “a couple of minutes.”

“Well done, regardless,” Dorian admits, “now you’ve all had enough time to think. Varric, surely you’ll know. How does one kill a bachelor?

“Explosion?”

“Oh for-” Dorian throws his hands in the air and turns away from them all, trying to come up with a plan B for how he’s going to make this happen. He can tell them the answer, of course, but it won’t be at all the same and someone figuring it out themselves-

“Oh,” Cassandra says, “of course.”

Dorian spins back to look at her, as does everyone else in the room, and she flushes.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she insists, “to kill a bachelor, you marry him.”

They all stare at Cassandra a moment before turning, slowly, to Dorian, who has taken advantage of their distraction to sink to his knee, and pull the ring box from his pocket.

“The Iron Bull,” he says, and he’s not choking up dammit, of course he isn’t, he’s practiced this too many time for that to happen, “I have been a bachelor for over a decade now, and I have thought for some time that it was something I would never give up. That I could not ask for more than what I had.”

“Dorian-” Bull says and there must be something wrong with the acoustics in here, because now he sounds like his voice is cracking and there’s not way that can be the truth.

“Hush,” Dorian says, gently, “let me finish.”

Bull does, closes his mouth and leans back in his chair but not before taking Dorian’s hand in his own, and holding it.

“Right,” Dorian says, “as I was saying. Bull you have come along and swept everything out from under me. Shown me that there is in fact, a whole other life to be had. A life full of laughter, a life full of love, and safety, and honesty.”

And bugger it all he is crying now, and he can only thank the Maker for the fact that he’s a pretty crier.

“I have realised,” Dorian says, “that this is a life I want, even if it comes at the expense of the death of a bachelor.”

He opens the box. It wasn’t easy convincing someone to make an untinted dawnstone ring, or managing to get the measurements without Bull noticing, but he’s done it.

“The Iron Bull, will you marry me?”

[dakarimainink]

Chapter 2

WARNING: None

I walk down the long hallway of the rebuilt estate of the Hellsing organisation. What was once a top-secret property, has now opened their doors to the public for people to get trained in combat, weapon handling and knowledge about dark creatures.

Sir Integra Hellsing know that when she passes away, there will be no one to truly lead the Hellsing organisation, except the government. This was her way of making sure the Hellsing legacy would continue – by opening a sort of school for people to become hunters. I had taken some time to learn how to become a hunter, and apparently, only a few were selected. The criteria – have a specific set of skills one could only be born with.

A set of double doors are open, and inside are people fencing. I note one of the people watching, dressed in a burgundy red uniform with a red writhing mass as her left arm – Seras Victoria. I have read about her, the second human to have been turned by Alucard. She was only 19 years old when she was turned. She had a tragic past and a hard upbringing. Now she was head vampire and the one to train the new hunters.

I watch as two people fence with grace. It’s almost a dance, but one of them is clumsier than the other. The footwork is almost to perfection and the movement like calm waves on the ocean. The fencing ends and they pull off their masks and one of them is revealed to be Integra herself. I look in awe as her long white hair flow down her slim body and her right eye shimmer in the bright ceiling light.

“Well done, Oliver, but you need to work more on your defence.” She points out as she shifts her weight to one side. “I believe you have quite the potential.” She adds before her eyes meet mine. I keep her gaze locked with mine, letting her know I am here for her. She gives me a slight nod. She turns to Seras. “Keep them training. I will be right back.” Integra makes her way over to me, assess my presence before gesturing me to follow her.

We walk in silence down the hallway until we finally enter a room to the left.

The room is open and high ceiling. The back wall has huge fixed windows, letting in the grey light from outside. In the left corner is dark red chesterfield couches, with a dark oak coffee table placed in front decorated with a bouquet of flowers. In the right corner is a small bar filled with all kinds of liquor and crystal glasses. The walls are decorated with huge framed paintings of different historical figures. In the middle of the room is a long dark wood executive desk with a lamp, a landline phone, papers neatly stacked, pens placed in order and a silver box with cigars. Behind the desk is a dark green executive chair.

Integra makes her way to the desk, places her mask on top and sit down in the chair. I walk over to the desk and wait patiently while she reaches for her cigar box. She pulls out a thin and brown cigar, places it between her thin lips, light it up with a golden lighter and inhales deeply. She breathes out the light grey smoke while taking in my form.

I feel her eyes etch into my skin, making me want to spit out words at her, but I know she is a respectable woman with high standards. It took me three years to get this interview and I am not planning on screwing this up.

The silence linger between us uncomfortably as she takes another drag from the cigar. The smoke makes me want to cough, but I supress it. She turns the chair a little, leans back and crosses her legs as she lets the cigar rest between her lips. Her eyelids are heavy, not from lack of sleep, but from the fact that she knows she can somewhat relax in this room.

“You’re from the London History Chronicle.” She says as she finally drags her eyes away from me. She looks absentmindedly at one of the paintings hanging on the wall. “You’ve been nagging me for the past three years for this interview. Why?” She adds and continues to look at the painting.

Nagging her? I mean, yes I have tried desperately to get this interview, but nagging you is a bit too far. And I have never been in direct contact with you, but rather your new housekeeper; Stella Cherrier.

I scan the side of her face. A brown patch covering her left eye from a gunshot wound that made her go blind on that eye. I can see a thin line of a scar peeking from below her patch. It must have been one hell of a shot, yet I have a feeling she didn’t even flinch. That’s the kind of woman Integra is, hard, unfaced, strong, relentless, cold and deadly. I know she could stare death in the eye and still not bat an eye.

“I have been studying and reading about what happened in London 31 years ago.” I begin to explain. “I even wrote I master thesis on the events. I want to ask y…”

“It was nothing more than just an exchange of bullets.” She cuts in, still not looking at me.

I bite my tongue. So she is one of them. “Just an exchange of bullets? I am sure the bill for rebuilding the whole of London would disagree with you, Sir Hellsing.” I lean my weight on one leg as I cross my arms. It makes her turn her head towards me. She looks at my posturing, she seems to dislike it. “I am also sure the three million people who died that night would also disagree with you.”

She narrows her eyes at me, before a smirk grows on her lips. She shifts in her seat, leans forward on her desk with her fingers intertwined. “I like you, what is your name?”

My eyes widen at her remark. She likes me? I felt rather cocky spitting those facts out, showing off my knowledge. I just spat at her and she likes me? I let my arms hang down to my sides and I straighten up. “I am Alessa.” I introduce myself.

She leans bank in her chair and take another deep drag from her cigar. “How much do you know of what happened 31 years ago?”

I scan her face. Is this a test or an actual question? Besides, I thought it was I who were going to ask the questions. “I know everything that is available in writing plus the rumours and fairy tales.” I begin to explain.

“And how do you know the distinction between what is true and not?”

“I go with my gut, my knowledge and what seems reasonable. I hardly believe there were actual angels during the battle, but rather the image of angels because of Iscariot the papal knights joined the battle on their helicopters. I also heard dragons interfered in all of this too, but I mean…” I glance at her grin as I speak. “Vampires and werewolves, that’s okay, but dragons? That’s a bit too far.”

“You would be surprised.”

I let out a gasp at her remark. My eyebrows shoot up as I stare at her questioning.

“But you are correct, no dragons exists. At least to our knowledge. Now you seem like a person who has a great deal of knowledge about what happened and more than enough information to write an article, so why are you here?” She places her cigar in the ashtray and leans forward on her elbows.

“I am here because I want to hear from someone who saw it all. Who was in the middle of it. Yes, there are some corrupted videos available, but you are the only human, as far as I am aware of, who saw and experienced everything.” I explain. She raises an eyebrow at me and I once again cross my arms in front of me. “And who is still alive.” I add.

She smirks at me. “Well then, Alessa. Please go ahead with your interview.”

I pull my backpack off, pull out my notes and my phone to record the interview. “I hope you don’t mind.” I show her my phone and she shakes her head. I start the recorder on my phone, places it on the desk and look at my notes.

I clear my throat. “When the vampire attacks leading up to the reveal of the Millennium, did you ever think it would be linked to something greater than just some random vampire attacks?”

“I had my suspicions, but vampire attacks are not that uncommon, we are just good at hiding it and cleaning up before anyone else sticks their noses in it. We know that humans are not strong enough or equipped with knowledge about vampires that they can fend for themselves, which is why we stepped up from the start. Wasting human lives and sacrificing them as ghouls is a fait I wouldn’t send upon anyone.” Her eyes fall to my phone and there is a twitch at the corner of her right eye. “The police has no knowledge or equipment to fight off vampires or ghouls for that matter. Which is why it is crucial Hellsing is the first to know about these kinds of attacks.”

“It this why you have opened up to the public to train new people?”

She looks up at me. “Yes. I have realised that family run businesses is a thing of the past. When I pass away, the government will take over. I know Seras will do a fine job leading everyone, but I don’t know what will happen to Alucard, as there are no heir to the Hellsing family.”

“What do you think will happen to him?” I am intrigued to know what she thinks. Her head must be filled with the most wonderful things imaginable, both dark and light.

“Who knows. Alucard is the most powerful being to ever exist and without a master, he might go rogue, find a new purpose, find a master within the government or clench his thirst for whatever is going on inside his mind.” She sighs out. “All I know is that the government will take over the Hellsing organisation and it is my duty to make sure the standard of our hunters are the best.”

I nod in agreement. I wonder how England would be without the Hellsing to protect us. Who knows how many creatures they’ve kept at bay by just existing.

“I read that you gave the command to Alucard to release all his powers, did you know what it entailed? From what I read about it; every soul he has ever consumed was released from his coffin and fought alongside him. It was described as a sea of dead souls.”

Integra lets out a chuckle and it somewhat takes me by surprise. “I knew what it entailed, but I had never seen it before. It was quite the sight. To see his raw power unleashed upon this world was almost frightening.”

I raise my eyebrows. Integra, scared? Sounds impossible based on everything I had read about her. She was calculated, strong and fearless. If she was somewhat frightened, who knows what everyone else felt.

“I remember as soon as my command slipped my lips, everyone, from all sides, attacked him. The Nazis and the Iscariot. They could feel the annihilation was about to wash over all of them. Their lives snuffed in a flash.”

“What did it make you feel to know you commanded such powers?”

She leans back in her chair and locks gaze with me. I notice she is chewing her inner cheek. “Responsible.” Is the only word slipping out of her.

My jaw lowers slightly as I am stunned not to hear the word powerful come out of her.

“I feel responsible for every innocent life lost during that night. This war begun because Alucard exists. I believe that if it happens once, it can happen again.” Her eye lower and I sense a hint of sadness. “And I don’t know which state Alucard is in now, considering what happened 31 years ago.”

“What?” I gasp and take a step closer to the desk. I can see she realise the last sentence was not meant for my ears. “What do you mean by state? What happened?” I ask desperately.

The stands up. “This interview is over.” She declares and press a button on her landline phone.

Within a second, a woman dressed in a black dress with a white apron – the housekeeper – enters the room. “Stella, please escort Miss Alessa out of the estate.” Integra commands with a calm voice.

I sigh, letting her know I dislike her decision to just throw me out. I reach for my phone, end the recording and put everything back in my bag. “Safe travels home, Alessa.” I reluctantly follow Stella out of the massive building.

[fakeyellow]

50 years after the battle, Kamilah deals with the aftermath of her betrayal and the loss of Laia. 

Meanwhile, Anya is a 22-year-old Londoner who can’t remember the first 18 years of her life.

Summary: Kamilah and co. win the war against Gaius but at great personal cost. Fifty years have passed since their pyrrhic victory when a stranger, looking exactly like the woman they lost, enters their lives. Part 1 here.  Part 3. Part 4.

It was remarkable, Kamilah mused as she walked down the streets of London, how everything could at once stay the same and be different. 

She’d last stepped foot on this island over three hundred years ago, before she’d made the move to America, and while technological advancements had replaced the candlelit lamps with lightbulbs, it was still the same, bustling city she had once known. The New York Massacre of fifty years ago hadn’t even touched this island and their people walked blissfully unaware of the existence of the supernatural.

Her thoughts returned back to her home, New York City. Despite Gaius’s forces ravaging the city and forcing it into a state of evacuation, once Gaius had died, everything had returned to normal. Coming from a small port city, Grant Emerson had successfully burst on the scene, running for senator on the campaign of New York’s restoration and improvement. Adrian had been all too happy to donate to his cause upon sitting down with the man and New York had returned to its glittering city of edifices once more. 

The massacre had been explained away by a gas leak, carbon monoxide leaking into the streets and wreaking havoc on people’s minds until they grew crazy and attacked anyone around them. There had been scientists researching the traces of gas they found, searching for the compound that had caused such mania but even their numbers had dwindled until the massacre was just a footnote in New York’s illustrious history. 

It was amazing how resilient and ignorant mortals were willing to be in order to make everything fit into a neat narrative but then she had seen this happen all too many times before. 

And yet, even with their knowledge of the true events, vampire society had also returned to normal, the Council reforming to continue its all-encompassing rule over New York. Their numbers had been severely diminished in the battles but vampires were not a species that would easily allow itself to become extinct. 

All in all, it seemed everything had returned to normal upon Gaius’s death.

But Kamilah knew better.

She had lost the trust of her friends the moment she’d pretended to join Gaius again and it would take centuries before they trusted her again. Jax was outright hostile to her still, while Lily was uncharacteristically careful around her. Even Adrian, who had said he’d understood her actions, was distant with her, reminding her of the times when they’d first known each other. 

And Laia...

Something had broken in her the moment she’d seen the light disappear from Laia’s eyes, when she’d felt the life pour out of Laia’s body and spill all over the ground.

She had lost not only thousands of years of her life to Gaius, but the only person who mattered. There had been others, of course, whom Kamilah had loved but Laia. Laia had been the only woman to break past her defences and make her feel as if she were living again. 

Kamilah had done despicable things and committed countless atrocities that she had thought put her past the point of redemption. She’d wondered whether death would ever come for her, if her past acts would eventually catch up with her, and she’d resigned herself to a bleak eternity of guilt and shame.

But Laia had made her want to live. Laia had made her see that even vampires were capable of change and she’d made Kamilah want to be better not only for Laia, but for herself. She’d made her see that even despite her two thousand years on this Earth, there were still things unknown to her, experiences that she’d never had. And she had wanted to share all of these things with Laia. 

They just… hadn’t had enough time.

And now Kamilah was alone, and she hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. For her to so keenly feel the absence of the woman who should have been by her side. Fifty years had passed but the pain was still fresh and ever accumulating. She hadn’t been able to stop seeing Laia everywhere she looked, smelling Laia’s scent, hearing her laughter, the first ten years, but even now, sometimes she swore she could smell the faint scent of strawberries and violet.

Kamilah froze. 

That wasn’t in her imagination. She could smell the sweet scent wafting towards her from an unknown source and even though she knew it was impossible, even though she’d chased the scent down so many times only to realise it had been in her head, Kamilah began running.

All thoughts of her impending business meeting vanished, her mind consumed by that light aroma as she chased it down with her honed instincts. 

And there.

Kamilah felt the breathe escape from her in one fell gasp as she stared at the woman standing just down the street from her. Her ombre honey blonde hair was gone, replaced with warm chestnut tresses with the slightest tint of auburn, but her eyes were the same. The slanted arch of her eyebrows, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the dimple in her cheek. They were all the same.

As if she hadn’t died fifty years ago, Laia was standing in front of her. 

—-

Ever since she’d woken up from the accident, Anya had felt a restlessness inside of her. 

The doctors had told her that she was lucky to be alive, that the amnesia, while uncommon, was something that happened in some patients and her memories were just as likely to return as they were to not.

They never returned. And although she had baulked at the thought of living a life where the first 18 years of her life were completely blank, she had learned to move on. 

The first few months had been the roughest and it had only been through the support of Sera, that Anya had finally learned to leave the past behind. The woman had been with her from the very moment she’d woken up, and even though Anya couldn’t remember anything about her, Sera had been an infinite source of comfort and knowledge about who she was.

But still, even as Anya learned that her parents had died when she was a child, that she had been visiting Sera in Paris before she entered university back in London, that she had always wanted to become a museum curator, even as she slowly pieced together who Anya Altomare was… she felt a restlessness in her. 

She didn’t feel whole; it was as if there was something absolutely vital missing in her, an empty hole in her heart that couldn’t seem to be fixed no matter what she did. It had taken a year for her to stop bursting into tears whenever she smelled the scent of lavender and Sera hadn’t been able to provide her an explanation. 

But she had needed to move on and so Anya had gone to university for four years, immersing herself in her studies and making friends even as she felt like she was only masquerading as Anya Altomare and that there was somewhere else she desperately needed to be. 

This feeling hadn’t disappeared even after she’d graduated and Anya had spent a year in an archaeological dig, excavating the ruins of a newly unearthed fortress in the deserts of Egypt, as if she would also be able to discover who she was. 

Yet, even that had failed and still feeling like only a shell of a person, Anya was back in London, looking for jobs as a museum curator. Her friends had decided they needed to celebrate her return to London at their favourite bar, but the nonstop stream of chatter quickly wore away at her. 

That was why Anya was outside right now, reflecting about the half-life she was living and morosely wondering if she’d ever feel whole. Anya sighed and turned to go back inside when she suddenly made eye contact with a woman at the end of the street. 

It was dark but there was no mistaking that this was the most beautiful woman Anya had ever seen and the sight made her heart feel like it would swallow her whole. Her eyes were a bottomless brown that Anya could have drowned herself in, her face framed by gleaming sheets of hair that Anya longed to run her fingers through. 

Her every feature seemed perfect as if they had been lovingly chiseled by a sculptor, but there was something devastatingly tragic about her, as if there was a wasteland of heartbreak underneath her composed exterior. Anya instinctively stepped towards her, feeling a need to comfort the woman, to embrace the woman, to caress her cheek when suddenly-

“ANYA!” 

Her friends called out to her in the bar, and by the time Anya looked back towards the woman, the street was empty as if she had never been there. Only the faint smell of lavender lingered behind and shaking the strange wistfulness that had overcome her, Anya went back into the bar. 

—-

(1 day later)

Kamilah furiously tore at the ground with a shovel, calluses forming and bursting open on her hands only to instantly heal over. She was a woman with a single-minded determination that had caused her to cancel all of her London appointments and fly straight back to New York, going immediately from the jet to the cemetery she was now in. 

There was no way Laia was alive. She’d seen the life leave her body, she’d felt the cold, heartless corpse against her arms, she’d Turned Laia too late. It was impossible. 

Her white silk blouse turned brown from the dirt but she paid no attention to it, focusing solely on the coffin that was slowly being revealed with each throw of dirt. At last, she threw her shovel to the side in frustration and lifted the lid using sheer force only to unceremoniously drop it and slump over in shock.

It was empty.

—-

(5 days later)

Anya cupped a mug of coffee, sipping on it slowly as she checked her email. She was currently staying at a friend’s after having returned from Egypt but she needed to find a job and an apartment soon. She couldn’t stand being a freeloader for long. 

She had sent her resume out to a variety of museums focusing particularly on ones that had ancient Egyptian exhibits (her specialty) but it seemed there just weren’t many museums looking for new curators. Sighing in frustration, she quickly refreshed her inbox only for her thumb to freeze over the new email that had appeared. 

Anya immediately pressed on it, her eyes rapidly skimming the letter that had arrived as if she were afraid it would disappear. 

“Dear Ms. Altomare… highly recommended by Professor Cunningham…  curator for a private collection of Ancient Egyptian artefacts… full benefits and a fully furnished apartment in the company building…”

She let out a scream of delight, jumping up and down as she clutched her phone to her chest. This had to be a dream. There was no way she could get her dream job in her dream field with a staggeringly high compensation rate. Suddenly furrowing her brows in worry, Anya rechecked the email, looking at the signature.

“Sincerely, Gabriel Sapienti, Assistant to Kamilah Sayeed, CEO of Ahmanet Financial.”

A quick search online revealed that Ahmanet Financial wasn’t only reputable, it was the company for all things finance-related and it was in the heart of New York. While she’d always wanted to go to the city across the oceans, Sera had always advised her against it, citing the violent, busy, and dirty nature of the streets. 

Anya sighed at this; if Sera were here, she’d definitely warn Anya away from this job. She could practically hear her friend’s voice in her head talking about how things that seemed too good to be true were exactly that: too good to be true. But everything seemed to check out and Anya wasn’t going to let go of this perfect opportunity. 

With a tremulous heart and a resolve to tell Sera later, Anya emailed back the assistant. 

She was going to New York.

—-

A/N: Bonus points to anyone who knows where I got Anya’s full name from. 

I ended up changing the time skip from 1 year to 50 years because that opened it up to a lot more angst and possibilities. Don’t worry, I have an explanation for all of the years/ages and it’ll all be revealed soon. Just hold tight! 

There should be 3-4 more parts to this and I hope you’ll continue to read. Thanks so much for all the support!! 

[eyesofambition]

Try + Alucard (Hellsing)

“Now, Now Seras. Just because you are in a coffin and I am her just enjoying myself with a nice red glass of wine doesn’t mind you have to complain about it. Let’s just be baller about it and enjoy ourselves. Its not every day you get to enjoy first class wouldn’t it? After all, when I scared off those business to get us those tickets. I pretty much did them a favor I did. They wouldn’t appreciate them as someone like me would, wouldn’t you say? HAHAHA!”

Alucard would cackle rather casually, although he did in part sympathize with Seras’ situation. At least a tiny bit. He is just enjoying himself too much to have those thoughts linger for now. 

[kevintrentin]

VIDEO: www.youtube.com/watch?v=E1vDDZ… Originally I did not intend to do this drawing, I actually had 3 other drawings already planned, but like everyone else, the death of Stan Lee took us by surprise, I particularly did not react, I thought it was another false news ... but No, this time it was really, we're going to miss it and if your next cameos are sure to be pre-recorded or made by computer, it will never be the same. He was a figure of admiration for me as for other artists like me, so I needed to make at least one tribute drawing, and incidentally record it. I know I could do something better, but if I did not do it now, I would never finish it, apart from the fact that I'm very busy with the university. I have tried to make the quickest sketches and ideas possible. Choose to refer to the death of Captain Marvel, giving a slight touch to some characters. I thought about drawing Stan but I thought it would be in bad taste to see him on that table, so I happened to be that coffin with the EXCELSIOR epitaph. I doubt much that I retouch it to this drawing, try to recreate the colors of the comics, although the colors of woverine broke the harmony a lot so I lower them of value. Already with that said. Thanks for everything Stan Lee, rest in peace Originalmente no pensaba hacer este dibujo, en realidad tenia otros 3 dibujos ya planeados, pero como a todos, la muerte de Stan Lee nos tomo por sorpresa a todos, yo particularmente no reaccioné, pensé que se trataba de otra noticia falsa... pero no, esta vez se fue de verdad, lo vamos a extrañan y si bien seguro sus próximos cameos sean pregrabados o hechos por computadora, nunca sera lo mismo. El fue una figura de admiración para mi como para otros artistas como yo, por eso necesitaba hacer al menos un dibujo tributo, y de paso grabarlo. se que pude hacer algo mejor, pero si no lo hacia ahora, nunca lo terminaría, aparte de que estoy muy ocupado con la universidad. He intentado hacer los bocetos e ideas mas rápidos posibles. opte por hacer referencia a la muerte del capitán marvel, dándole un ligero retoque a algunos personajes. considere dibujar a Stan pero me pareció que seria de mal gusto verlo sobre esa mesa, así que paso a ser ese ataúd con el epitafio EXCELSIOR. dudo mucho que lo retoque a este dibujo, intente recrear los colores de los cómics, aunque los colores de woverine rompían mucho la armonía así que los baje de valor. Ya con eso dicho. Gracias por todo Stan Lee, descance en paz   Links relevantes: www.reddit.com/user/kevintrent… twitter.com/TrentinKevin www.instagram.com/kevintrentin… web.facebook.com/KevinTrentinA… kevintrentin.tumblr.com/

[elsewhereuniversity]

Whitehall Dorm, Floor 2

The Whitehall Dorm doesn’t appear very intimidating. Neither do its inhabitants. In fact, most humans pass through the small building without another thought.

And in the past, the Gentry have tried to burn the entire place to the ground in hopes of destroying the second floor.

Even those who live in the five single-person rooms on Floor 2 don’t know why the fae hate them.

Here is what the administration and the fae know that the students do not: Every year, some of the prospective college-goers are not entirely human. (No, not changelings.) They are something(s) else, and their blood and heritage means the fae cannot affect them. Not even a true name allows the fae any power, because these students have protections built in.

Room 201 houses a girl called Serafina. She has silver marks in the shape of wings on her back, and her eyes glow an unearthly blue when hymns are sung in her presence. (Her mom is named Lisa, and her mama is named Eloa.)

Room 203 has a coffin in one corner, filled with the dirt of Reginald’s homeland, and he keeps a mini-fridge for plastic bags full of his favorite meal. When he brings back a hook-up, they always walk away disheveled and happy, but a little dizzy and with a huge hickey on their neck.

Room 205 looks normal (the gleaming chrome, bright lights and changed gravity hidden) until the perception filter is switched off. Pluyki seems normal until then too; it was part of the deal with zir parents to spend a few years at an earth college before taking over the family business. (They had grudgingly agreed that perhaps time on another planet would give zir experience for when ze takes the throne of their planet in the Haxalv Galaxy.)

Room 207 is lived in by roommates, although you wouldn’t know it. A boy who goes by two names - Shy and Belphegor. (One of these names is true, but it makes no difference.) When the boy is kind and mild, he goes by Shy. When he is inventive and unhelpful, he goes by Belphegor. (The two are stuck and have become comfortable in the status quo.) Both avoid Sera as much as possible.

Room 209 is occupied by Gold. She hoards books and stories, and never loans them out. (She is not related to the slumbering Wyrm curled beneath the abandoned English building. Her family has elegant magic that allows them to change shape, and he is stuck with brimstone breath and claws the size of a car.)

It’s very annoying to the fae to have such deliciously powerful beings in their territory, and know they’ll never taste a single mouthful of said power.

The folks on Floor 2 of the Whitehall Dorm don’t care. They’re just trying to get a college education. And the less trouble from the fae several of their friends have spoke of (but which no one on Floor 2 has ever seen), the better.

…

Note: The edited version! And I believe The Wyrm was first spoken of by themagnificentgod, and our lovely Ruler charminglyantiquated declared it canon!

[Torn Thorn]

[demomediaempire]

King Kaka - Wajinga Nyinyi (Lyrics)

https://media101.co.ke/king-kaka-wajinga-nyinyi-lyrics/ King Kaka - Wajinga Nyinyi (Lyrics) -King Kaka - Wajinga Nyinyi (Lyrics) Check out King Kaka Latest song dubbed Wajinga nyinyi Lyrics below and comment if you agree with Kaka Empire Rapper as he terms Kenyans as Wajinga nyinyi (you are stupid). The six-minute spoken word contains a message to all Kenyans at large.... you should check the lyrics below to understand. Download Kaka Wajinga Nyinyi song from this page 👉 Wajinga Nyinyi (Lyrics) Dear Lord Today I come before you For two things Grateful for keeping me alive Even though unajua my day Na kutupea wakenya Amnesia Asante Sisi ni Vipofu na Viziwi Na tunajua translator wetu alishadedi 2022 already si mnajua nani ni Prezzi Si mnajua nyinyi voters ni washenzi Kwani hamjui mdomo yangu Ilibatizwa na wakongwe So unashangaa akilli zenu time ya kura Zinajaa shonde Na hiyo wiki ndo najua Jirani yangu huwa Mjaka Kamah kumbe huwanga Msapere Hata salamu hatapata Piga tu kura na utalala bila kula A night of tears Nanii skiza na macho na ona na your ears Swali Fununu ni ati system ya education ni ya uduu Is it true that’s why umepeleka mtoi wako akasome majuu While graduates wanashika placards kwa traffic Mtu wa actuarial science anataka kujimada its so tragic Swali Ati Waiguru ako kwa office na story ya NYS tulishasahau Biro moja alibuy 8 thao Biro tunanunuanga mbao Either sisi ndio wajinga ama ako na marking scheme ya Accau Time will tell, Vijana wanabet na Kifo Wanadai betting imewapea job kuwaliko City stadium imekuwa renovation for 3 years budget ziwatoshe While Sonko anadance tu kwa Ofe Swali King Kaka - Wajinga Nyinyi (Lyrics) How do you sleep at night knowing mkono yako imeua not close to purity Wordsmith King Kaka arrested for fighting impunity Ata wakijam na hatupati bread hawatusomi na Sikwani Promises hamuweki hii ni relationship gani is it true Uko na account offshore zimejaa money Na account ya daughter ya waititu iko na depo ya 100 mita Ukipelekwa kotini ni escort ya polisi kama sita Ladies and gentlemen official speech by Mbwa Mwitu Wacha avae ngovi ya kondoo kwanza ndio tumsifu Si basi wakam kwa church watoe pesa tulitoa kama tax Na pastor anakiss ass, ampatie hadi asome kaverse Na sisi tuko busy wajinga nyinyi tunaclap Wakinisnipe tonight si mnajua ni kwa nini Nitakufia watu mi siogopi mimi Wasijifanye hapo watalost ata chuma u rust Na hizo ganji hamtazikwa nazo news flash flesh urudi kwa dust Nchi inaongozwa na thieves Na ukiogopa jua hauwezi kuwa chief Iba hizo mamita mko scott free niibe kuku ntalala ndani At least pastor Ng’ang’a amewashinda anadanganya hadharani Hapo parliament kwani mnashda gani simtuibie Kiplani Mmetumiwa shetani gani na job ziko wapi Swali ni ukweli lazima uretire ndio upate job So inamaanisha lazima kwanza nipatie job ndio nipate job job The youth ni moody at 90 and Gikonyo at 80 Manifesto mlisema job ni plenty KQ walisamehewa deni ya 24 billion, sugar mill farms 40 bili Na ujinga yenu mnaweka students hawajalipa kwa gazeti HELB Wajinga Nyinyi King Kaka - Wajinga Nyinyi (Lyrics) Hizo mlango zenu vile mmebeef security hamuwezi nikubalia hodi Remember me my mom anaitwa Wanjiku na my father is a nobody Naskia mafuta imepanda tena Inatoka Turkana ndio urudi tena Hesabu ya 1 plus 1 inawachenga Mtaenda retreat kuidiscuss tena Na mjiongeze pesa ya tax payer tena Laptop ni multi billion project na walimu odhago hawana lights Wanacharge kwa generator shopping center its not right Wasipandishe tax hizo ndio dreams mi uwa nazo nikituna What are we really doing as a country saa zile tunachuja Miguna Petroli imepanda so inamaanisha polisi wataoperate kama customer care Busaa na chwara zinamaliza mayout enyewe Stivo was right Mihadarati haiwezi, wachane na polisi wafanye raid tena Ama ni vile OCS hajapewa yake na kila mwizi oh i mean ya kila mwezi Na polisi wako in cahoots, hao ndio usupply wagondi na guns za kushoot Swali Kazi ni formalities na ukiapply ina bounce Ni ukweli KPLC wanatuwekea Bill haziko na zinaenda kwa personal accounts Welcome to our country where politician wana ujinga za kila aina Economy imekuwa hard hakuna kitu ya kuteremsha chai na Karibu to the Kenya Republic of China I support Teachers Doctors wakistrike Na the president is saying ati kama hawarudi watachujwa Hakuna siri kwa nyumba Naskia jirani bibi anakula you know what i mean Police anaishi kwa keja zimeseperatiwa na curtains i mean 2019 Na hizo damu zitawafuata to the coffin Punda idedi lakini mzigo ifike KCSE hazijafika sababu ya floods so instead wacha niulize maswali Harambee stars wanalala kwa floor airport flani while mnahire priate jets Swali, disaster mnakimbia kusema vile mtacreate enquiry Is it true women rep ndio wanadishi pesa ya pads meant for girls Maize scandal wako na matusi kwa national TV such role models Youth unemployment Politicians ni addicts wa pesa KRA wanatuibia ndio wapatie wezi pesa Deadline ya tax return ni Tuesday Jengeni tu, sips tea iko na mercury kwa shuge Swali Is it true war iko funded as tunaloose KDF soldiers daily so unalia Ndio maana tumeshindwa kutoa troops somalia Mnakula pesa ya health ndio maana mkenya hawezi afford The moment you fall sick tunaskia unapata treatment Abroad Na voter akidedi na Cancer Kera Perfect opportunity atoe coffin na transport on top auze sera Hapo ndio mras uwasha kilucy In the name of treatment kuna power ni Kirusi Moha umefunga jicho, jicho pevu ni Kipofu Huduma number kumbe ilikuwa u ka scam flani Na maraga anataka magari King Kaka - Wajinga Nyinyi (Lyrics) Rais unaona hapo ni wanajeshi wa Navy wakionyesha umaarufu Wao wa vita ya kulinda nchi wakiwa kwa maji Wajinga nyinyi while Mariam na daughter wake hajapatikana wiki mbili wako kwa maji Sema MCSK Kutuibia Kwa traffic uko on the wrong side ndio urush kutuibia 5 years ndio zinaisha naskia umeanza kurudi kwa ground wacha Kupretend and all Kenyans know kwa ground vitu ni Swali sijui ka unakumbuka mimi ndio nilikuweka hapo Can’t see you nikaa tunacheza tapo Swali Ama na assume ni vile ulibuy simu uko na line mpya Na haushikangi numbers haujui I stopped being your friend unanitreat namna ya adui Swali Stadium ziko wapi? Kazi ziko wapi? Ile manifesto iliniwow iko wapi? Na hii handshake kwani ni ile sisi ufinya Kenyatta kwa mkono ya karao Swali Ata kama tuko na Kenyatta ndio maana strongly feel hatujapata Uhuru! Download Kaka Wajinga Nyinyi song from this page 👉 https://media101.co.ke/king-kaka-wajinga-nyinyi-lyrics/