Isn't it just the bold assumption that everyone in Hellsing writes in
journals? I know, it's so terribly odd to have all modern characters and be
writing in this fashion, but I really enjoy it.
I still don't own a damned thing.
~*~*~*~*~ May 28
I was never a religious man, not even when I was mortal, yet today as I woke, I found myself praying to my God, the same God that both us former Eastern Orthodox Catholics and the current Anglican Protestants worship, to help me be strong so that I could stand up to my Master and force her to not feed from my veins so that her child will be a good, pure girl.
My master is no longer Integral Hellsing, the handsome woman that I vowed to protect when she was but a girl, but is now my overly-attractive fledgling Argetni, as she has now dubbed herself. Argetni is a terror, but I cannot resist her words or come ons. I have been specifically feeding on human victims so that my beloved master can gain the sweet taste of fresh blood from a live source, yet it pains me to see her sitting in her room awaiting my return as I smell of the fresh hunt, the blood of my meal still lingering on my tongue.
It is the same routine every damned night. Argetni stands from her seated position, and grabs me around the waist, forcing her tongue past mine as her hands slowly start caressing this old alabaster skin. I then push her away, as I do not want her to feed for her child's sake, and then she strikes. Somehow, without my noticing, she has already removed my shirt, and grabs my forearm, licking up from my palm, over the veins in my wrist, tickling my inner elbow, and then she leans up and pierces my breast with her fangs, drawing immortal blood for her meal.
By the time she begins feeding, I am engulfed in too much pleasure to care what she does. As long as her attention is on me, I am satisfied.
Ever since she has drank my blood of her own vampiric will, she has become my master once again. It is quite humiliating to think that this is the second time I have been conquered by this same woman.
I could never live without my beloved master. She makes forever seem bearable for the present time. If I tire of her, I shall leave her as I have the others before.
I fear that her child will be worse than a regenerator if these habits continue. I have tried to speak with my master
Perhaps I must go on a holiday back to the continent. The Slavic regions were always breathtaking this time of year, and it would be good to see some relics of the past again.
How amusing. I'm sounding like that pulp-fiction vampire created by that American woman.
But then again, in respect to the past and deeds that have already been done, without some semblance of a conscious, one was never truly mortal.
Alucard
~*~*~*~*~ May 28
I was never a religious man, not even when I was mortal, yet today as I woke, I found myself praying to my God, the same God that both us former Eastern Orthodox Catholics and the current Anglican Protestants worship, to help me be strong so that I could stand up to my Master and force her to not feed from my veins so that her child will be a good, pure girl.
My master is no longer Integral Hellsing, the handsome woman that I vowed to protect when she was but a girl, but is now my overly-attractive fledgling Argetni, as she has now dubbed herself. Argetni is a terror, but I cannot resist her words or come ons. I have been specifically feeding on human victims so that my beloved master can gain the sweet taste of fresh blood from a live source, yet it pains me to see her sitting in her room awaiting my return as I smell of the fresh hunt, the blood of my meal still lingering on my tongue.
It is the same routine every damned night. Argetni stands from her seated position, and grabs me around the waist, forcing her tongue past mine as her hands slowly start caressing this old alabaster skin. I then push her away, as I do not want her to feed for her child's sake, and then she strikes. Somehow, without my noticing, she has already removed my shirt, and grabs my forearm, licking up from my palm, over the veins in my wrist, tickling my inner elbow, and then she leans up and pierces my breast with her fangs, drawing immortal blood for her meal.
By the time she begins feeding, I am engulfed in too much pleasure to care what she does. As long as her attention is on me, I am satisfied.
Ever since she has drank my blood of her own vampiric will, she has become my master once again. It is quite humiliating to think that this is the second time I have been conquered by this same woman.
I could never live without my beloved master. She makes forever seem bearable for the present time. If I tire of her, I shall leave her as I have the others before.
I fear that her child will be worse than a regenerator if these habits continue. I have tried to speak with my master
Perhaps I must go on a holiday back to the continent. The Slavic regions were always breathtaking this time of year, and it would be good to see some relics of the past again.
How amusing. I'm sounding like that pulp-fiction vampire created by that American woman.
But then again, in respect to the past and deeds that have already been done, without some semblance of a conscious, one was never truly mortal.
Alucard