#disciper

[uppertwo-a]

@disciper​ // sc. 

             and it was a beautiful night –––– shared in the company of her, and only her. indulgent and hedonistic / he holds her body beneath his own, running fingers down her back, as blunt nails turn to claws (and what big teeth you have / all the better to eat you with ) ––––

         –––– but he hesitates. while he’d previously thought over the idea of cannibalising her, something, instead, catches his eye. her devotion – her adoration – perhaps it would be enough to make him shed tears, should he end up killing her tonight.

      his claws linger, but they to not injure. instead, he merely watches her – beautiful form threatening to mingle with his own...

                    “––––hanako,” he says her name, oddly serious.        he leans in, pressing their foreheads together, “–––what do you think of me?”

[bringsevil]

@disciper​ said: rubs his shoulders to relax him.

               eyes fall closed, and he allows his body to relax into her warm, practiced, loving fingers. she molds his body with grace and care that he hadn’t felt in many years -- her loyalty was that of love and compassion. he drinks it up as any god devours worship. he shifts, leaning into her, a soft sigh of approval escaping his lips with a voice of rolling thunder and just as powerful as a storm. 

               ‘ you are so kind to me, hana - chan. ’ his voice is swelled with a love he doesn’t feel, with a kindness he cannot mirror; with a care that the devil doesn’t match in any true emotion. and yet it’s so convincing -- he knows, more than anything, that she feels truly loved by him. ‘ come closer; let me hold you. ’

[uppertwo-a]

@disciper​ said: runs her fingers through his hair. very soft and tender. she adores him.

            and she was his favourite toy –––– smiling sweetly to himself / from the kindness of his heart, he allows her fingers to comb through his hair; to touch him. there’s affection alive in his eyes –– brushing his cheek to the comfort of her lap, as he adoringly looks up at her.

     and perhaps it was fake ­–––– perhaps everything he did for her, was ingenuine.          but that doesn’t stop him from seeking her out, again, and again, and again.

                (almost like it fed him, more than any meal ever could).

  “––––are you hungry?” he coos to her, before reaching up – letting his thumb linger along her cheek, “––i could get you something, if you’d like.~”