𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍│[M!Reader x Highschool DxD - Jeanne D'arc/ Jalter]

-[S.1]-[C.12]-> [Before Anyone Else]

  [Y/N] - Your Name
[M/N] - Middle Name
[L/N] - Last Name
I
["Talking"]
["SCREAMING"]
["Whispering"]
["Thinking"]

I really gotta find some time to rewrite my Tanya the Evil book.

It's not bad by any means, but I just feel like my writing style has evolved and changed so much that it would feel almost like an entirely-different book. It'll be a while until I get around to it, however, seeing as I still have much to do and much to write, so... Yeah. In the meantime I'll read the manga and the novels, try and find them translated, or at least a way to translate them myself, so I can follow and continue.

Though remember, Season 2 is dropping soon.

Don't get me wrong, I love the anime. The animation and the style are awesome, and the fact that the art is so 'rough' pairs well with the setting of WW1. But nonetheless, I still have to finish reading Baki (currently finishing The Inmates Saga) and catch up with Record of Ragnarok. After that I'll probably get around with reading the Novels and/or the manga of Tanya the Evil. But until then, I'll just keep on writing as usual.

But anyway, let's roll!

<<<<<< I >[---]< I >>>>>>

The light was faint, but visible.

He could feel the breeze gently enveloping his muscles that stood exposed to the cold air of the night. It was chilly, but thanks to his gigantic frame and equally-big built, it all felt like nothing to him. Nonetheless, he gently exhaled the smoke from his cigarette, slowly taking it from his lips, having it grasped between his index and middle finger. Lowering his arm against the stone railing of the balcony, he sighed.

Running a hand through his messy, and still-wet hair, he groaned, grasping his head that was still hurting. Almost like his nerves were exposed and being pounded by a hammer, as he threw his head back. Walking inside his small, but definitely cozy, room, he kneeled down in front of the mini-fridge that stood to the side. He stopped for a moment once he heard something outside, but just shook his head with a groan.

Grasping one of the many tequila bottles inside, groaning as he stood up once more, closing the small fridge's door with his foot. Turning around, he put the cigarette between his lips once more, taking a drag from it. Raising the bottle of Tequila, instead of opening it, he merely grasped it by the top, wrapping his fingers around the neck of the bottle. And so, with a mere pull, he forcefully removed it with a smirk.