#huntsfirst

“ You’ve fought creatures like this, then ? ” It’s a rhetorical question. She speaks it without thinking, still reeling from the adrenaline and the fight and the gore. A tree becomes her support. The battle-stained stranger is something to focus on. A messy sight, but it is better than the slain spawns that lie nearby.

She’s tired but magic gathers at her fingertips, warm and easing, and the cuts to her side begin to stitch. As an afterthought – something she should have thought of, something she should be aware of – she asks, “ Are you alright ? ”

Claudia from the back: HE'S ALREADY HUNG. 

@huntsfirst​

He’s normally left to his own devices and the list of tasks Ser Guillaume had set out for him. No squire or young knight bothers “the devil child” if they valued their person. He had a reputation for unpleasantness, and if it wasn’t with his fist or teeth, it was with his words. A silver tongued child could be a cruel master when given the chance to be. 

And despite all of that, he had been invited to the dueling arena by a young knight. It was just them, and he distrusted the intentions of such holy people. Knights at any age were dual-faced creatures. Condemning sodomy one moment, performing it the next. He knew the cycle. The young knight tosses his sword at him, and it falls limply to the dirt.

Reynauld narrowed his eyes. They were about the same age by his guessing- the same boy he’d watched from the cloister. He was bright in the dawn. All gold hair and blue eyes.

Reynauld was not. His hair was dark, his eyes were dark, his dispositions were dark and his thoughts? Hellbound.

Nevermind it. He could fight.

He scooped the handle of the practice montante up with his foot, and tossed it a few feet up to his hand.

Trevor - @sonofbelmont

Alucard - @alonelycastle

Hector - @nekroculler

Isaac - @reddevilforger

Ashei - @redemptiionisms

Grant - also @alonelycastle

Leon - @huntsfirst

Sypha - me!

Everette - @pridehcart

Ghosts make no noise, and he did not hear him coming. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and that was what made him check his surroundings, and reach for his gun.

Only to let his hand drop.

It really did look like him, the soul that had seemingly attached itself to Trevor. He had seen it a few times, hovering close. 

His chest constricted. 

It looked like the portrait of Leon Belmont. It looked like Trevor’s hero. Raquel dug his heels into the riverbank sand to keep himself grounded, lowered his face and ugly teeth behind his drooping mask.

im glad this is a meme between both of our hectors its making me laugh and i almost woke my fiancee uo

fasdfsf listen fam

I’m just glad i’m not the only one who knows they could just break free, its just that ‘maybe, just maybe, the bad things in my life lead to this’.

“Maybe i’m the reason bad things happen to me???”