​

“ye of little faith, hunter.” amusement dances playfully in her tone and eyes are alight with mischief. if she had wanted to kill him, her claws would have found haven in his flesh. she refers to the hand currently ghosting over his gun. the vampiress keeps her distance - for now. verona tilts her head slightly and gives him a predatory grin. “still here, giles? you’ve grown fond of me already?” one step forward.

“I’ve PLENTY of faith.” No faith of her character, however. The hunter didn’t trust the vampiress--- he never had nor would he ever. But he did not fear her. Not the way he should have. “More so... back unwillingly. And not here to entertain you either.” Why would any one in their right mind wish to return to this MISERABLE county? Cold, gloomy, and to out of touch from modern advancements. Felt like that whole village was stuck back in time.

✧    GENERATED DIALOGUE PROMPTS .    //    accepting . @ohnter said : 💬

                 ＂     you didn’t think that was just lemonade in your glass, did you ?    ＂

the witcher ( netflix ) || @beastend​ : ❝   people like to invent monsters and monstrosities. then they seem less monstrous themselves.   ❞

“They thrive off justified violence. Twist their wrong doings into valiant acts.” There always had to be somewhere to point an ACCUSING FINGER when something was amiss in people’s tiny little lives. While there were true evils out there, the kind that awoke from ancients slumbers, or were born into this plain of existence. Many of them, however, were drawn out from a direct cause of someone else’s actions as a grave conscience. It was one long chain link of cause and effect.

—–    OHNTER .

new  songs  she’s  never  heard  but  in  distant  memories  or  dreams.   twinkling  beneath  frozen  waters.   cold  has  always  been  associated  with  death.   but  as  the  white  flurries  stick  to  raven  hair,    she  stops  a  while  on  the  street.    lifting  her  hand  to  catch  what  would  only  ever  become  droplets  of  wet  against  warmed  skin.      ❛    𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒘  —-     how  strange  to  see  it  this  far  south.  ❜

@ohnter​

“It is.” The hunter also stared upon the grey skies. Coming to a halt beside the woman. As terrible as the cold was ( to Giles at least ) --- there was always something somber yet peaceful about it. Shivers ventured down his spine as the cold set in beneath thick coat. Perhaps he’d rather be on the inside looking out to admire the white powdery blanket. “Haven’t seen so much either. Not down here. Usually all melts when it the ground.”

the witcher ( netflix ) || @astheylaydying​ : ❝ were you in love? ❞ 

The hunter sat there for a long moment. A silence thickening between them. Teeth worrying at his lips as he pondered proper words. It was a BOLD question to ask that could have a number of answers. “I have been.” A implication that there’s more than just one out there that held on dearly to a piece of his heart. And no matter what he did--- there was simply no taking back what once BELONGED to him. It left a terrible pain in his chest.

Some gone. Some pushed away. Some traitors.

As scared as the hunter was of the idea of LOVE---  sometimes the loneliness and the desire of company chewed away at his rational thoughts. Made the walls he built so high crumble at his feet. And always, always, he found himself picking up the stone and stacking it back up once more.

he is slightly blind in his right eye after getting a serious beating. he has a bad habit of not seeking any kind of medical attention or doctor when he gets injured because he believes it isn’t something he can’t handle himself. so he rode around for several days to a week— with a SEVER concussion. he felt sick for a few days and his vision was blurry in his eye. he soon realized that his sight wasn’t going to fully return.

he’s actually missing his pinkie toe on his right foot— he lost it to frostbite. this was the cause of the limp he has.

Giles is obviously covered in scars— big and small scattered over his body. his back and arms take most the beatings. but there is a prominent scar across the bridge of his nose where it has been broken, a jagged one across his right eye where he was busted, and a scar that trails from his chin past the jawline underneath. harder to see because he usually keeps facial hair. giles also has a scar of a cross branded into his back. and a scar that is unmistakably from a lightning strike down the most left side of his back--- from shoulder to hip in length. i’ll post something to provide visuals of what these scars kinda look like.

a wild van helsing! || @vanhelsiing​ : -smooches giles-            

It only took but moment to recognize the face that invaded his view so suddenly. Little time was wasted in returning the kiss. Calloused hands lifting to cup Gabriel’s face. Lips lingered a moment longer against the other’s. Before finally he pulled away. Fingertips pawing at his features as a SMILE swept over his own. Blue and blind hues flickering about his lovers. As though trying to determine his current state. The way he was acting--- one would think he’d seen a dead man walk again. There was some truth to that. If Giles was honest with himself, he thought just that when Gabriel up and disappeared. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. A YEAR had just about passed. It was silent from his lover’s end. Given their profession--- assuming the worst wasn’t terribly far out of the question. “Oh, God, I thought you--- thought that....”

The breath he was subconsciously withholding released in a HEAVY SIGH. In relief? Worry? Arms snaked tightly around the other hunter. Fingers tangling in the ends of his dark locks. He’d have to apologize from how long he held the other there at a later time. For now? He simply wanted to bask in this moment of bliss holding onto the man he had grown to cherish so. Giles buried his face into the crook of the other’s neck, “I missed you.”

westerns || @aintdone​​ : ‘ yeah, i hope you’re right. for your sake. ’

“For MY sake, huh?” A lopsided smile curled over his features at the glazed threat. Giles turned to the man, eyeing him. Try as he might--- but he never found seem to find himself SPARED of the bad side of the law. No matter what was done. If you can’t beat them, then you JOIN them. If one’s character would allow it, of course. Not a easy feat when guns and ill temper for authority were involved.