Thehollyverse - The Holly Verse!

                Words    mean    nothing    to    him.    He    doesn't    give    a    shit    about    anyone    else.    He's    selfish    and    psychotic    and    the    entire    world    could    burn    for    all    he    cared.    The    Russian    has    no    feelings    other    than    what's    in    his    dick.    And    that    won't    ever    change.

                Viktor    watches    as    she    aproaches,    brow    raised    as    his    lips    remain    unmoving.    The    knife    doesn't    scare    him.    Nothing    scares    him.    He's    soulless,    it    seems.    Except    he    suddenly    has    rage    built    up    the    moment    the    knife    sinks    into    his    chest.    Not    out    of    anger    and    fear    of    dying...    anger    because    she    ruined    his    favorite    fucking    suit.

                Hand    reaches    for    the    knife    in    his    chest,    fingers    wrapping    around    the    handle    and    pulling    it    out,    other    hand    reaching    for    Lexi.    He's    spinning    her    suddenly,    back    to    his    chest,    arm    restraining    her,    and    sharp    edge    of    the    knife    still    in    her    grasp    is    pressed    to    her    throat.    Did    he    not    find    her    worship    and    undying    love    so    fucking    hilarious,    he'd    kill    her    right    then    and    there.

                Viktor    leans    down,    whispering    to    her.

                "    Every    word    comes    out    of    my    mouth    ??    I    mean.    You    do    not    make    decision    for    me.    "

@thehollyverse (vik) said: [ hurt ] sender hurts receiver with words.

black painted lips quiver, big green eyes staring at vik like he just shot her — it would've been easier to stomach it if he had, because at least THAT was something she could understand. one bloody knife falls to the ground with a clank, red splatter staining black leather that adorns her legs. heels click against the floor as she inches closer to him, grip tightening on the second dagger in her other hand [ anybody else would have been screaming, running from her, & maybe that's why she's so enamored with vik ]. tears roll down her cheeks, leaving red trails where her clown makeup runs.

❛ you don't mean that! ❜ as if convincing herself would be so easy. sadness turns to blind rage in the blink of an eye, & she's pounced on him in an instant: 5'1 frame standing toe-to-toe with him like he's nothing with bloody dagger pointed straight at his heart [ it wouldn't kill him, but it certainly would make her feel better ] ❛ you're always so funny. ❜ manic laughter through the tears, while metal pierces through his skin just enough for the smell of iron to fill her nostrils. ❛ that's why i love you! ❜

* MEME, always accepting.

@filthystill asked: "Oh look, it's alive." from jim @ nick from somewhere

                Hands    drag    down    his    face.    Arms    flex    under    the    movement,    chest    rising.    It's    two    in    the    afternoon    and    he's    just    rolled    out    of    bed-    in    nothing    but    his    boxers    and    wife    beater.    The    what,    where,    or    when    details    of    last    night    were    beyond    him.    He    doesn't    remember    much.    Maybe    he    should    stop    doing    that    and    be    more    present    in    his    life...    nah.

                "    Get    fucked,    Hopkins.    "    He    says,    groggy.    Hand    reaches    for    the    fridge    door.

♡ tig

from here

honestly bestie a few of these surprise me

@psielapki asked: smooch konig ??? from here

                Their    height    difference    is    comical,    to    say    the    least.    Holly    is    sure    this    mans    back    hurts,    simply    having    to    bend    over    all    the    time    to    kiss    his    fucking    girlfriend.    Sometimes,    it's    cute.    Other    times    it's    annoying.    And    occasionally,    like    this    moment,    she    is    considerate.    Holly    pulls    the    chair    from    the    able,    planting    it    right    in    front    of    him.    One    foot    planted    on    the    seat,    and    a    hand    on    his    bicep    as    she    steadies    herself.    Both    feet    are    now    sat    on    the    cushion,    seeing    almost    eye    to    eye    (    he's    still    taller    ).

                Fingers    pinch    the    fabric    of    his    mask,    lifting    it    enough    for    her    to    weasel    her    way    under,    and    she    wastes    no    time    in    pressing    lips    to    his.    It's    gentle,    though    there's    not    an    ounce    of    it    that    doesn't    drip    with    affection.