Predator and Prey

Christmas Gift for Jovi @uccisore | @exoptabilis ♡~ Merry Christmas ‘v ‘ ♡

          Such they proceed with their evening in glory unbeknownst. Unattainable by those who would writhe and desire, pine for the both of them: shown just with white lace upon even paler skin, always does she seem like the calm after a raging snowstorm [ such a perilous little comparison, for both of them would be equal to a disaster’s rhyme ]. The lightness of her form rests securely, comfortably, upon the plush softness of a settee. The only show that the Countess does present herself to be a living entity was the hold upon a glass of wine. Crystal made as fragile and delicate, as the picture perfect frame of a doll lying before his waiting eyes. A predator watching his desirable prey. And said prey? Could it not hold the smile of a lioness’ interest? Just watching. Anticipating. Expecting something that would so surely come.

           Behind his eyes, was the delirious dreaming of tearing and ripping that finely crafted bit of material slung around her form, tight and yet tighter, as if pulling on an invisible string [ how much would he not desire to see all it bare? to have her pure before his ravenous eyes? ]. It all rings itself out to a laughter set to disrupt the otherwise peaceful quiet.

          Halted and caught once more in a faint click. Proceeding door behind his back to be closed so gently, so carelessly. Announce that they were all alone.

          That the moon in the night sky would be the only witness to their personal doom.

          Approaching. Taking. With the featherlight feeling of a kiss trailing up the inside of her wrist. Acknowledged merely, with the rise of chest in breaths taking in too deep and those eyes, blinking, flitting, dark and heavy, that find themselves caught and carried away by a pair of gloves left on an armchair so far away. His own? - they were simply meant to indulge her upcoming stir ‘to live’, by all but the shine from the deepest night sky. Caught in the beauty of an earring, blinking and telling tales against the faint hollow of a light.

          Would not anybody want to question their sombre togetherness? Would they even attempt? Even dare? Yes, they would. Even if any were bestowed honour of knowing what they went through: the happiness and peace fought for so desperately, with years that had passed counted with every single press of his lips against such fragile skin [ he could tear it open, take a colour from herself mimicked by the faint song of wine in her lilting grasp ] would be meant to be a reminder of their time spend in ludicrous disasters they had battled so hard to mend.

          And then again? Inexorable was this knowledge. That all that had happened had been for a cause of their own undoing, to be created as a whole yet once again.

          So, while the Count takes and takes in unrelenting ways, he lets her do it just the same. He lets her cherish. Lets her hold. His own touch so soft while her’s, perhaps, was quite so bold.  Energy. Power immeasurable pulses in the depths of his every grace [ no matter just, if it were lips or eyes or fingertips ] it all she wanted, it all she craved. 

          And so, breath falls softer, lighter. One would [ so many had just done before ] want to wonder how her creation had come to be. She looked like nothing else but a man-made puppet. A beautiful porcelain doll ready to be free. Was she not quite that in her husband’s grasp as well? For Alucard’s power over her, it was undoubtedly like a string of life, keeping her from slipping completely away. And so--- shimmering was that aforementioned glass. Tempting. Captivating. The catching of a dark red soaking into finest silk. From her shoulder falling in small rivulets, rivers following her torso, catching itself as a waterfall on sternum soaking the priceless creation in shades of red and aching white, turning darker, darker—

           [ yet not quite? ]

         —Being caught in the middle of their personal paradise. From nothing to everything. With the faint glowing of the moon set ablaze by the brightness of a crystal chandelier [ how fitting, no? similar to the way her glass had caught each and every drop of fervour, now discarded, now thrown aside ], dousing beautiful marmorean ground into the blinding pulchritude of a ballroom’s shine.

           Desired they had, to be left alone like this. Still caught now, afterthoughts had brought forth that picture time and time again, in the raging bitterness of a claiming snow’s storm, howling and talking, explaining tales unknown around their home. And despite the clamour of the turmoil outside, the manour was - otherwise - drowned into perfect quiet. Of a pair cherishing and fostering their moments of togetherness, so scarce they were and were they not all ever desired to hold in grasp? Hands all the same, with being brought back from the unknown [ from the mingling ideas brushed away like the fine scent of gunpowder. drawling and captivating themselves ] had found each other in the flowing step of dancing to an unheard beat.

          A heartbeat’s rhythm---?

          Pulse racing beneath the fine veil of pure white skin. Lead around, lead by careful chime of footsteps echoing inside the hall’s wide realm. Faster and faster, a spin to the take, until a form like her own [ petite, breakable, in comparison to her husband’s monumental physique ] finds itself cradled and kept easily, delicately, in a hold of power and gentleness all the same. Shall not many want to lay an eye on this? Would want to see the thoughts shared between one another [ by a hidden link? ] of adoration, of love, of undeniable worship, only to be drawn closer and closer unitedly and untorn.

          A broad hand then settles on the small of her back. Dainty palm and fingers aligned perfectly, to be settled in his grasp. They stand - proud and tall - a noble picture of two beasts, finding calm and deceptive lingering of faint contemplativeness only in each other’s arms.

          What had happened? The colour red suits her far too well.

          What had come to pass? Wine to coat what teeth had not yet graced.

           Their chimes and songs were created for only their own beats and drums. Pressing up so closely against one another just after a pirouette came to the lingering knowledge’s halt of their need and want and neverending pursuit for one another. Only then it was that Katarina’s slender arm came to wrap around his shoulder far too broad. Helped up and lifted. To close the distance aching in their thoughts, a distance that was not there anymore. The exhale of a sigh? Wordless of an answer needed. Eyes closing from their distracted stare somewhere off and else into the night. Perhaps towards the snow just falling calmly after the storms raging went finally quiet---?

Continued from:  Ҳ 

              Times as these reminds his heart of time-lost anxieties and nervousness; oddities to a life now lived from the Heavens, but, past traits grip him still. The Knight dances his gaze along their feet, mostly, listening to hear and gathering a sense of her presence to attach with all the things his Guardian has spoken of. Finally, with fondness of Shamsiel’s tender heart to touch his own, Josef looks on upon her with borrowed affection. A light laughter to his tone, and hands clasped behind his back in company with his dark head bowed. 

               “If I may, Ma’am - they are actually from Guardian Shamsiel himself; he spoke of visiting you, and grieved for having little time to do so as of late. After hearing small portions of your shared history together, it was my pleasure to offer bringing them. He grew them himself.” A blink here and there, abashed but, never wanting to take undue credit. Merely the pleasure of a message sent is all well enough for his own heart. A wider smile warms the pallid complexion, nodding slightly. “I am his messenger, and current trainee. My name is Josef Lycolas Bartridge; a pleasure to meet you, and I thank you greatly for your generosity in allowing me passage and welcome here.” 

@bizarre-conception

     ♔ So she listens to his words and watches the bashful gestures fulfilled in front of her while cradling arrangement just so carefully in her arms. One would want to wonder about a multitude of intricacies [ the boy wasn't human, for first, it was sure so easy to tell ] and still, she decides upon not questioning it at all. For moment's notice and passing by, it mattered not that he did 'intrude', as intrusion was only granted, only permit, to those very few select ones shrouded in serenity, in a feeling of an aura far else to be found [ and like a heavenly chime laying itself around this very one ]. Shamsiel had offered this gesture and thoughts that he was saddened upon his inability to visit---?

    ♔ "I see. Alas, it is not quite a hard fate for me to find him wherever he may reside, so, after I offer desired time to you? Be so kind, let him know about this possibility." But not to send the boy away outright. No, no, just to engrave in thoughts what might get lost upon joyful togetherness, it was spoken right away. "My pleasure, Josef. Please follow me~ I will find a vase for what you have bestowed upon me~" A smile. A twirl of petite form, to merely lead in unhurried steps towards the mansion overshadowing grandness of gardens that unfold.

              “Yes…it would be him that spoke tales of me. Few others do. Not with such love as I know my ‘father’ does.” Fondness cools in his eyes like a ripple of starlight; a bright, shining something for the sake of a Prince held dear to them both, and for the sight of the company that same Prince has managed to point his way. Relief is next to join his gentle face just in the knowing he has company still, while he gazes up into the woman’s pleasant eyes. “I feared for his loneliness quite deeply once it were time I should leave him, but I see he has good company still? That makes me glad, that he has kept some loves from so long ago.” Loves Sariel might never met, and loves that he very well might. It’s always a happy occasion, times like these, when faces from the cherub’s far longer history rise to the surface again for Sariel to see for himself. He doesn’t quite smile, but his face is kind enough to be all the sweeter even without such a thing. He stays where he is peacefully sat, dappled in sunlight and outstretched in the grass; a space of which a single hand intently pats with the hope of her coming near to sit.

                “He mentioned you before, Katarina, when I was young. I trust if he has spoken of me, then you would know already my name is Sariel. It’s very nice to meet you for myself, and to thank you for helping to keep Shamsiel’s heart happy.”

          The pat upon the spot beneath glistening light and the soft feeling of air was comfortably taken up, no need nor want to refuse the invitation now that it had been spoken without the discardable creations and drawlings of words. Different ones, sentences strung together and serenading of a beautiful form of love, would then sure reach her and she was quite so eager and quite so attentive to listen to it all. Of course, a being and entity - but furthermore a man she does truly enjoy to be around - as Shamsiel, it does not wonder her that others would fret, would offer words of deep consideration for someone that could be quite so lonely. If only loneliness might grasp him when all his self, all his person had been exhausted upon caring about others. No, truly not, he had never been alone in those moments spending time in the premises of her own family. Because he would always be welcome - and so would be the child now sitting wistfully at her side.

@patienti-a ♡~

     ♔ How quaint. Because not many would be able to enter the castle’s fortress, protections placed in immeasurable magnitude by her husband’s will or of those that would wander and were already her closest ones. Nobody would ever desire for any harm to come down upon her, so seeing a person unknown by face or aura would only have her blink at him in quiet wonderment. Tilt of head follows, mainly at face and eyes that seem a little shy in their ways of regarding her fully.

    ♔ Then at the flowers presented, glimmering spectacle beneath the light, in all its flourishing and gorgeous bloom, travelling down from attentive gaze over the bouquet beautifully woven together. “Did he now~? What a pleasant surprise.”

          So that little curve of lips was all the more present.

The glory of holding such a woman, who not only saw him as a monster, but did not attempt to change that. No, The Countess saw the monster in the flesh of man and instead of scurrying away, her eyes never left his. Strong willed. Almighty. Enthralling. A blessing in the form of a Queen that enchanted him since their first encounter. He gives her no reason to abandon her; —— He is hers. Always returning to the world she resided in to take hold of her everything & kiss it. A soft kiss upon lips, soul, & mind. A form of cherishing His Muse, His Obsession.

He could reach no other peace but in her arms.

He could hear his prayers answered with every word she spoke of her love for him. A true, sublime touch of the skies in her eyes. He only prayed in the form of bloodshed, now he felt as though every time he kissed, it was another form of prayer; A prayer to her. A prayer for her. No matter what, her image would run through his mind & he found himself blessed.

So, he continues to smile.

“ Yes, a nice evening with the town. Let me show them off to you. This is a celebration of my love for you, not for my return. “       Such a way with words, he knows she would get flustered and he could not deny the image that would make him laugh! His hold is iron, not yet releasing her when she seemed so close to feel her heart beat with his. A delighted chuckle came, raising his hands to cup her face in soft gentleness as he pressed a kiss upon her forehead once more. Who knew a Monster that devoured his own Men would be so soft. He would simply smile before speaking.        “ —— Let them come. I will begin to prepare as well. A nice waltz in the night air, perhaps a bite to drink… We shall have so much of our world in our hand. “

The kiss she gave him was enough to bring him to serenity. ‘ I love you. I love you. I love you. ‘ A song sung in her head in his voice as he returned the kiss.

          Easily so, were they entangled in one another, every nook and cranny and every shape and curve, all pressed tight to one another, fitting quite so perfectly. It is a never-ending spiel. To be captivated by one another [ only one another ] and desire to hold so close, what none other could ever rip away. This was their destiny, their everlasting future in eternity, and how she feels herself - her very core and soul - be spun and tightly wrapped around his own. With every breath taken, with every subtle softness and gentility of a kiss shared in the fading air of each other's lungs. As if holding sure so close, what could be salvation hundreds of years prior refused.

          It's a thought brushed away when she all but smiles. Faint colour, dusting cheeks - he's trying it again. Trying what she never him denies. " You flatter me so~ " When would he not? With eyes to wander upon all pieces of her whole. With hands to trace, to carefully so grace, each plane of form, for himself only to behold. It's all enough to have her laugh, to playfully turn and twist, and desire to be free [ without so, she does never truly place effort in it at all ]. " Alas, if we are to prepare, you will have need to let me go~ I need to advise the steps for the servants to take. "

          And just so she speaks with softened voice, with the breath he steals with kisses love-filled, none the like, all to be returned [ love-stricken fools, are they sure not? ]. Power to be found like none else in the universe, and love, cherished, freed of former shackles, meant to be displayed for all else in their world.

                                                 Christmas-Present for Jovi [ @luciferborn ] ♡♡♡~

          The shimmering lights in the grandeur of a castle, illuminated with countless of candles, with the subtle glimmering souls, set deeply in chests whenever they catch glimpse here and there about this or that murmuring little secret hushedly breathed into the warm and encompassing air. It’s beautiful. Embellished with scents unknown to anybody else [ and how they craved to hold and keep in arms, circled close as embrace, what never was theirs to touch, could be burned to ashes by the smallest grace ]. Scents they only breathe in around one another and carry themselves through any sense.

          Their eyes. Their ears. Their noses. Their mouth, lips tingling with the delight, and subtle feel of thumb gracing along bottom lip - completely and utterly captivated by one another, drowning out whoever is just around them. Whoever might take place in the night.

          It was amusing for those that know the pair. That were aware of the noble engagement’s antics, found delight in it and diversion settling deeply in eyes [ a drowning low chuckle as an answer to the song - before the next set rhythm would captivate them again ]. They danced - and danced. Forgotten was the whole surrounding in their swinging back and forth, cradling each other in adoring arms, to find a footing, find their steps. And each create a new reign, a new move, a new lead. It was unbeknownst to those around them, that they did not truly need to speak.

          Words, those disposable little human creations, how they were replaced with songs of love and rhymes of adoration - each hum and breath - another tune to their everlasting lullaby. It’s a beautiful exposure of deeply settled love. Love unlike any other [ and nowhere ever to be found ]. She breathes when his hands do trace, do move and linger - set palm flat with one on slender waist. The sway of thoughts, to the sway of music, a dip that followed, set her a laughter to a chime. Draws a hum just moments later, when eyes of brilliantly darkened shine find his of hellfire furnace, burning so bright.

          That chuckle that had broken the fine and lingering waltz - came from the man setting parade to the hour - that had invited them inside. Their dearest relative was surely smitten like any else [ but he, in comparison just, had permission, allowance, and would never raise a word ]. Let them dance, so Vlad thinks, seated aside on higher throne. Let them dance, and get lost, for their wars and fights are not long enough gone.

          So they do, with each and every change of a song, with the way they laugh and smile and so far withdrawn. And suddenly, the notes do demand their setting steps to halt, so they stand just beside one another, would look at each other, not a single eye to be torn away [ nothing around them, past the ground beneath their feet, and the music singing with orchestra throughout the air, nothing just, was truly important here ]. They stare and watch and get lost inside each other. With hands interlinked, with their feet locked to another set of steps, following the known and rehearsed dance to a ballad, that was only natural, only a flowing cadence to a thrum. It’s an embellishing masterpiece they both are entangled in.

          A beautiful tale spoken with pictures and movements sure alone.

          They are a picture perfect engagement of pulchritude. The perfect harmony of yin and yang.Her clad in white. Him dressed in black. The way it clashes, and melts into another anew. She was like an angel so soft and clear - the purity of long flowing fabrics, gold and silver, here and there. He was like a storm, a devil in a human’s disguise - complimenting, with how he swallows her whole, and still was shining through her light.

          Clean and clear, the whole place of ball just was.

          None was to dare to step up with them, all were to made to leave them to their love. The next set of notes was driving them again. The next set of sounds, by violin and piano sung, was made for them to twirl anew. She fastens a hand upon his shoulder, has him guide her time and time around. He places a hand, along the hem and seams of her back, feeling pale skin, and the softness about. How they appeared just, like being taken out of dream. Of an age-old, centuries gone fairy tale, now breathed to life, within this time. Within these seconds ticking away [ does it not remind of those old stories told to children’s generations again and again? ]. Do they not feel and seem and move like taken out of a painting’s pulchritude?

          Like they danced just out of something their Lord’s thoughts would allude?

          As if they weren’t even real. Weren’t even people, beings with souls and hearts one was able to touch. Those softened sounds that swirled around them. Those thoughts and ideas, that set a smile to her husband’s lips [ she could have asked, could have inquired, it meant nothing at all - he would let her in soon enough ]. She laughs once again, with the whirl of feet spinning over the floor, his arm to raise higher, let her through with a pirouette, so that layers upon layers, made of satin and brocade, would dance with an unknown wind to the tune.

          They were taken out of a dream. In the whisps of an upcoming night [ hauntingly beautiful nightmares in human forms ], brought to life. Just with each and every melodiousness catching strings of chords in the fine lining of adorned vest clinging perfectly to broad chest. How she just appears like a doll, held by silvery string attached to long fingers of her partner’s hold. How she swirls and moves - and was just surely free. Dancing with a love, unknown to mankind as a whole. She laughs again, before the next reign of captivating bells would break around them in fine crystalline waves. She laughs in the subtle purity of a caught up moment.

          And winds arms around his neck, when once she’s dipped again.

          Keeps him close and ever closer, pressed so tightly against him. She could have murmured words of love, could have whispered in a thousand different tongues. Could have turned and twisted him about, and smiles just like the new day’s birth. All those that try to listen in, greedily, eerily, disturbing picture of pure fervour’s worth. All those that wanted, what they were never permit to hold, drowned out with softness of a lingering kiss. A brush of lips. A breath in time, tasted, shared [ breathe in me, never leave me, bring me life as only I do live through you, for you ]. The softness of a fleeting moment, the rise of that slender, doll-like form.

          He sets her back on her feet. Sets her back into reality’s time.

          Sunken still in a dream of bliss. Never meant, to have reason or rhyme.

          To be a surprising vision, greeting servants and guests alike.

       TRANQUILITY, A SENSE OF HOME IN A WOMAN ONCE HARMED.     he dares not touch a single hair on her head without her given permission, not without knowing the depths of their love remained a vast ocean.     drown him, make him fill the love she had for him into his lungs.      if there was ever a more pleasant way to die, it would be by her side. where they both hold & cherish the life blossoming from their joined, meshed hands.      —— his dearest countess, his everlasting love.     once he believed there was no such thing as an immortal, now he knew one thing for certain.     his love for katarina would never perish, even if he did, it would grow in a field of flowers with admiration.     in his embrace, in his hold, their love was forevermore.

      he gives a slight hum, noting the arms around his waist.     his head is tamely placed upon her head, nose within locks of hair.     he breathes her in & exhales his content. eyes closed, the moment was all too pure.     purity once revolted him, now the hold he felt was a holiness that not even god knew of.     he gives an amused chuckle at her response, hand without it’s glove tracing the gentleness of her hair. a brief, subtle saying of      ‘ —— amen. ‘      spoken softly against her very being.

       “ not a single jewel or treasure is as beautiful as you. it pales in comparison.      i am enthralled it is to your liking, my dear.     we shall make sure to show it off as we dance tonight. “      at the mention of his children, he gives a purr.     those little gifts, those little warriors.     how he thrived knowing they were within his realm of being.      “ we shall see them soon.      shall we plan for an outing out of these walls?     come with me, stay with me.      you will always be a delight too kind for this tainted being. i will give you the world.     so long as you give me a kiss, yes?     does that sound fair~? “

          Tranquillity, the beauty of chilling calm between monsters that could destroy nations with the very swipe of a hand, and yet, they cradle each other, hold each other gently. Keeping in arms, what otherwise would destroy any soul coming too close and desiring to reach for what was not their own to even lay eyes upon. Frankly, just, she cherished her life [ and he had made sure of it, giving new hope, new breath, new future ] - whenever brought up, would he doubt and turn. But knowing well enough, she was always to remain her purest, most honest with him. These thoughts, unspoken lay they down before their feet, transported just in the way they touch. In the gentle caress here and there. In the way arms linger around his form. Power, how it engulfs her whole and makes her feel the most wholesome she had been in decades upon decades, destroyed and ruinous in the past.

          Amen - such a strange little word uttered into the sweetened air between them [ who would have guessed that beasts of their kind, could be such wholeheartedly devoted? ]. And devotion was all they felt for one another, was what kept them chained, close, the shackles held by lovingly, desiring to wind itself around each and every limb.

          "You flatter me so, my dearest Count~ And so shall it be. We may just invite the townspeople to a festivity of a sudden bliss~ They would love it so, for having not seen you in months passing by." How strange, that they had been so averse to any human contact before, and yet the humans living close to them, the numerous littered boroughs around their towering castle, how had they not grown to suddenly love that pair of nobility offering shelter and aid. Help, just as worthwhile as a million other could even dare to dream - only for those select few not shying away from those of power [ and easy would it be to call them all for a feast ]. "Alas, we may have either an outing in the town square, or we may bring them all here~ I can have heralds declare and proclaim, can have the servants arrange the rest. It is still time, so why not make the best of it for the night~?"

                “Oh, he has left but a few things at least to the imagination, as delighted as he is to speak of you in such high praises and all, mm? Quite the proud family man, to say the very least. But I see no reason why he very well shouldn’t be, and I am sure with what surprises you have up your sleeve, I will need no more convincing that such pride is only too applicable.” It never takes Kamille very long to make up her mind about this or that or the other. She seems perfectly set in stone when it comes to deciding that yes, she likes this woman, and she likes this family (or what yet she has seen of it), and she likes being in this marvellous home she has made herself only too comfortable a visitor to. Her grin is unfaltering, eyes shining with that impish sort of mirth that dares itself brighter and brighter in that black stare. 

                 “The sooner the better, as far as meeting your offspring comes into concern,” she agrees in those sugary tones and drains a warming sip from that fresh and steaming cup poised delicately in hand, “if they are anything like their parents, they will be equally as fascinating to spend time with, yes? Oh, believe me when I say I am delighted with the amount of fine company I find myself basking in for this stretch of my life.” For as old and wise and strong as she is, boredom is a terrible killer she has no great panacea for any more. Her free hand waves, dark eyes lidded in comfort as she reclines deeper into her seat. “You won’t hear me complaining. Quite frankly, your home is wonderful. I’ll find myself having no trouble or discontent with my quarters or any others~”

          And how terribly fascinating either of the pair's company can not sometimes be? For one or the other reason, they decide to entertain it for just a few better moments of their time. Her husband's own acquaintances are just as much wide and varied as the Countess would make to garner this or that forlorn and forgotten soul, aching with this or that grief she surprisingly has no great trouble with soothing. But with this specific newfound addition, she knows - at least for now - that there would be no need to comfort any old ache that could be torn into accidentally or willingly, for they aren't here right now for the greater evils of an eternal life. But merely for the wonders and pleasantries of a newfound togetherness that they entertain for just a warming sip more. "Mhm~ It wouldn't be too much trouble to get the twins to come here, for Alucard is quite easily able to call them, and they heed my demand as well."

          Of course, denial not present that they hadn't inherited powers unimaginable from both of them [ their father's more than her own, but well enough it invites itself ]. Would follow calls and appear right in that requested moment. "I will ask him to have them come here tomorrow~ They are not privy to a few new surprises either, so I shall just offer it for them as well." That little secret that only select few would be able to marvel upon. A small and little thing, growing and turning and twisting, making itself known to her and the world, to all the beauties of a certain self-found and created brilliant future. She doesn't mind it, to leave it just a little bit more imaginative. "I am glad to hear~ I do suppose my husband has let you around the weapon room and the church as well?" The church - how surprising to house a building of holiness - where they not quite all so unholy.

                         Birthday-Present for @luciferborn  ♡~

1.       Muse – Hysteria  || 2.       Aether – Silhouette || 3.       Puscifer – The Humbling River || 4.       Skott – Porcelain || 5.       Snow Patrol – Set the Fire to the Third Bar  || 6.       Ashley Barrett (Transistor OST) – In Circles || 7.       Skillet – Fire and Fury || 8.       Two Steps from Hell – Invincible || 9.       AZEDIA – Fathom || 10.   Celtic Woman – The Butterfly || 11.   Ramses B – Never Forget || 12.   Lorde – Biting Down || 13.   Nightstep – From the Start || 14.   Starset – Monster || 15.   Wildes – Illuminate

     THE ABOMINATION OF MAN’S LOIN TAMED EVER SO PERFECTLY BY HIS GODSEND.     the count had undergone through so many horrors, from birth to undead;     HE HAD SEEN THE HINTS OF HELL ON EARTH.     & eventually, he would join its ranks, rejoin the hole he crawled out of as a youth.     HOWEVER, THAT WILL NOT BE FOR SOME TIME.    for once, he cared not about a man that could end him.     ( he found life sweeping from the mouths of his countess & children. )     —– if only he had come across her sooner.     perhaps she could have saved him from his own undoing.

      julian was all too pleased, giggling & joyfully so.    HIS SON, ONE OF THREE HE CARED FOR;     laughing at the shadows that had devoured the damned multiple times. to see him bouncing around was such a blessing.    ( a gift from god he was, a blessing he always would be. )     alucard gives the briefest kiss upon his forehead, allowing the small look a like to coo in his own grasp.

      A TRUE DELIGHT, A TRUE HAPPY ENDING FOR THE COUNT.

      “ —– of course i shall teach him tomorrow once he has awaken. i have no plans to leave as of now, my dear. i have much time to show him everything he needs to know~ . “       THE INNOCENCE OF HIS CHILD WITHIN THE GRASP OF A WANNABE LUCIFER.    how laughable to some, but to the king… all his children mattered to him.    ( & surely julian would be able to pick up the lessons quickly. )      he gives a small chuckle as his hands, now free from gloves, would trace the face of his third born with katarina before turning his attention to her in sublime bliss.     WITH A SIMPLE KISS, SHE HAD HIM DEEPER IN LOVE.

     how kill changed to kiss was such a beauty in the eyes of alucard.

     HE ALLOWS HER TO LEAVE, KNOWING SHE WOULD RETURN.     he knows her, how she cannot bear to be away from him for too long just as he. he watches her gracefully bounce upon her feet, a true queen riddled her own self with ease.    & SO, PERHAPS THAT WAS ANOTHER REASON WHY CRUELTY TURNED TO KINDNESS.    a soft look upon his liar’s throne danced upon him in moments as he brought the child back to him with ease. julian having no fit about the disappearance of his games as he is held dearly by his father once more.

     when did it all change? when did the lines blur?    HE FOUND HIMSELF UNCARING OF SUCH A THING, FOR NOW HE DID NOT FEEL THE MADDENING OBSESSIVE NEED TO TORMENT HER.    he found holiness in her eyes & how they sung him to sleep when hell tasted his mind.    —— & in his own place him three children, those to carry out his name. those that would assist with his own legacy.    HOW DIVINE IT WAS TO SEE IT ALL PLAY OUT BEFORE HIS OWN EYES.

     a part of him thought it would be torn away from him, another part whispering;     “ I WILL STOP THAT. “    to silence the thought.

    he watches the royal blue fabric dance along in her, feeling a great pride in her presence & beauty.

     “ —– oh, he must have terrified them greatly~. “    WAS THAT A HINT OF JOY IN HIS VOICE?    “ my boy, you will torment them if you continue doing such a thing~. “    & julian would only giggle to his voice, now embracing his father as he danced around in his arms.    “ i am surprised t hear that is the only thing he has done so far. i recall samuel & reina going through walls at his age. has he done that yet, katarina~? “

     JULIAN WOULD SIMPLY SMILE ON,TOUCHING HIS FATHER’S FACE ONCE MORE AS THOUGH HE WISHED TO REMEMBER EVERY CURVE OF IT.    his eyes would return to his beloved, looking down at her with a fondness that never occurred with anyone out of his family.     NOT EVEN CLOSE FRIENDS, NOT EVEN HIS BROTHER HAD SEEN THE LIGHT IN HIS EYES THAT DANCED AT THE MOMENT HIS OWN MET KATARINA.    he walks to her calmly examining the fabric in her hold before giving a brief nod in acceptance.    JUST WAS SHE TO PICK OUT A WONDERFUL ATTIRE FOR THEM ALL.    a thought occurred in his mind before he continued with speaking it.

    “ —- i brought you a gift, my dear. one for you & one for each of our children. when will samuel & reina return? shall i call for them after our night out? “

          And she never had even thought about bestowing upon anybody the gift of children like it happened with him [ and only him, for he was her light and darkness ]. Those three that were their own blood, flesh and bone. Those three that came to mingle about with the humanity that their parents not even held in their grasp anymore [ and the youths themselves never would, but alas, was it important? was it truly a thing to think about in the joyous moments of a time well-spent? ].

          She watches out of the corner of her eyes how the youngest bounces and dances about, is all happier, coos at his father in the softest of sounds [ similar to an animal's soft chime, and yet a small tamed one at that ]. It's a delight to watch. A beauty to behold, even tho she knows the lingering eyes upon her back, tracing up curves and angles, relishing in the flow of long, unbound hair and taking her all in with the fire that could burn her whole [ and yet mere decided to warm what had been as cold as ice years and years in the past ]. How little such mattered now. But how carefully would she not cradle it in her heart? [ There was not a margin of regret in all that happened in her life - does the Count feel the same? ].

          "I may have taught him by myself. Yet he seems so eager to listen to his dearest father, for he misses you so, and desires to spend any time given with you~"

          She lilts with a voice that is the clearest of songs. A small ushering of bliss in the way lips curve into a broader smile while hands pick out flowing materials. Benign in her hands, like the tides of water sliding through cracks of fingers. How the child's eyes do shine when seeing such richness [ even still, Julian was dressed in the very same, would feel it tingle upon his skin ]. How they change around one another, even though Katarina herself was always caring, always light---

          ---she could be such a force, unravelled, raked by the hands of displeasure. By undesirable feats and bouts and the inequity of humanity's faults [ it was always the same, albeit her own kind could be just as avaricious, and how they both did loath these impudent ones ]. Her dearest beloved had seen these hardships, had seen when that pliant creature appearing pure before him, would turn and twist and offer else in everlasting carnage [ but how long ago had this been? she was not meant to fight anymore - but the prospect, does it delight him that she could? ].

          Eyes to travel back to her precious family. The brightened grin on the little child's face present and beaming, delightfully giggling upon the note of being quite so 'terrifying' even that innocence claimed him whole, made him the purest of them all. "Oh~ he does, as Samuel had taught him whence to do so upon his latest visit. But I do suppose that the little tidbits of their proceedings had been passed down from older butlers and servants---" So they would not be quite so scared by the antics of their masters. The antics that, by default, could extend to quite a charade and monsteresque delight to behold.

          She chuckles just at the thoughts, while hands brush along the pure and shining colours, would have same dainty hands take out the large attire she chose for him to wear. Black and blue, with accents of silver, for her to accompany him in the shining rich colour of the same brilliance, flowing light around curves, accentuating it wholly.

          "---alas, a newer encounter it was to have Julian show this tiny trick. One they had not heard about before, it is no wonder that they would find themselves surprised. And scared - for - the child's safety upon seeing him freely will the air~" Especially the maids had so securely tried to get him back down, to follow wishes, bribe him with treats, yet only by his mother's arrival, would he settle gently back into her arms. Such a good and precious little soul, always to know in not upsetting those loving him wholly.

               ‘Lost’ is certainly a word for it; how truly overwhelming the sudden flood of the past that has eclipsed him in its enormity today. How unexpected, how hard it is to choke down the last few straggling tears or sobs sitting heavy in his chest. Lost, like a man stranded upon the seas of himself, and God only knows that’s exactly how he feels. The intrusion upon licking the open wounds of a mourning long since past and remembered anew is, very nearly, what he’d call a blessing in itself. Knowing that much, Roberto cannot muster the shame he knows he otherwise would feel to be found wearing the last few tears of his child-like weeping, to be pitied so by the kind eyes of a passing stranger–of all people, of all people. But she does not pass him by once filling his hands with the comfort of flowers. They stare into one another instead, moved strangely by each other’s gravity–only, the priest is far too tired to puzzle out why that it is. He only blinks, roses held tenderly, mindfully in one large hand nestled above two notebooks cradled in his lap. “Go ahead,” he offers, voice hoarse, the heel of his lonelier hand pawing away the last of his tears still growing cold on either cheek. “I don’t mind.” 

                The distraction might only be too welcome, by now. He sinks with a certain heaviness into the bench they now intend to share, at the thought. He makes himself wonder about her instead as he stares blankly into the blue, blue sky stretching overhead. “Are you possibly visiting  someone here by any chance, miss…?”

          And how very strange might it not appear that she did not decide to pass him by when all the more she had had the chance after an act of endearing benevolence that was all the more quaint and unknown [ truly unexpected and felt so - never truly received ]. It's sad to see a man sitting outside by himself when all he only appears to need was the comfort of another soul. If only in sitting and offering a few subtle words dispersing whatever thought might linger in his mind. She's silent in sitting down when only the young male invites her to and is just as much pliant like water to find a place comfortably occupied alongside his own.