#taintedone

“---well, I am not dating your brother anymore, haven’t seen him for a while, but before we jump into anything I think we do need to talk about some things.” It was kind of funny, perhaps the proper word to use was ironic, Sean was usually the one disappearing, however this time he didn’t.

 “---- because you should know by now, Morgan, sex’ with me comes with strings attached, the most obvious one being that I’m not into one-night stands, did it once or twice but I always felt empty afterwards. So if we are going to do this, be honest with me, is that all you are looking for?---”

“say, ya mind if there’s a bitta FILMIN’ goin’ on inna few? won’t get in yer way, promise! ya can continue yer ol’ brekky an’ there’ll be no wuckas!” A SMILE to be offered! their film crew is currently setting up a few feet away, and even though it’s likely the other won’t be in a shot, it’s always better to ask than to just assume.

PROMPT :   feels nice sitting in my apartment, drinking coffee with ya, moa. i wish we could do this more often. ――   @taintedone​

“Don’t panic, I can explain!” ( Devlin )

@taintedone​

“It’s fine, just- come in before you get more drenched, alright?”

After closing the door behind the guest and locking it, the underworld prince gave the other some privacy to gather himself and went to putter around the dining area which was visible from the grand door. The area was an open galley style kitchen with a large island that was currently a scattered mess because Devlin had not been expecting company. Several spell books borrowed from his uncle lay open upon its surface with ribbons marking his place, the ends frayed from frequent use moreso on one than the others. Packets of herbs were littered the island along with vials, a mortar and pestle, and other magical paraphernalia. Above were more herbs in varying stages of drying alongside pots, pans, and hanging baskets of fruit. It was quite clear that not only was his kitchen part of his home, but his well maintained workspace. Well, most of the time.

By the time the mystery guest was finished making himself more presentable, Devlin had made two fresh, strong cups of chamomile tea. He hoped it would help soothe the soaked being who seemed so very heartbroken and lost. Handing one of the mugs to him, Devlin lead the way to his living room with a small carousel of odds and ends in tow, an appreciative smile on his face as he tried to see the apartment through a stranger’s eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting guests tonight. It’s a little messier than I’d like it be, so I appreciate the compliment,” he admitted while he set down the carousel on the floor in front of the fireplace before adding a fresh log or two to the dying fire. Settling on the floor, the son of Hades finally turned his full attention to the other and introduced himself by extending his hand toward him again.

send me   “ what am i?”  and my muse will describe yours in 3 words.

"Uh, nope, sorry, should I? I mean you certainly smell familiar, quite in fact, you smell just like one of my ex-lovers' who I haven't heard from in a hot minute...."

{ from a meme I couldn’t find oops } ;••••; @taintedone​ asked▬

‘  i may be in pain, but i am not weak.  ’

He had followed him several blocks. Before that he had been watching him for a week, beyond the normal realm of professionalism. The mortal man was a client of the vampire’s, but Vlad was more interested in the life that flowed in his veins, that the continuous flow of laundered money. In fact, he could have both. Vlad had sat in enough meetings in the dim glow of a desk lamp to memorize his tells, information he thought was safe (though not from a vampire that could thumb through any mind) and his nightly routine when the departed. The victim was wrapped tightly in his grey wool coat, dodging puddles while trying not to have his homburg swiped off by the wide roof of umbrellas. 

The victim was heading for his favorite club in the city. Not one that was grimy with booming music and gyrating bodies. No, no -- this victim was perhaps the vampire’s mortal age and had a refined, mature taste that Vlad shared. Pedestrians and motorists were too busy trying to get out of the onslaught of the rain and didn’t notice a black-clad man grabbing the man in the grey wool coat away from the crosswalk into a quiet backstreet...only for the man in black to reemerge by himself.

The club was adorned with dark, wood paneling and warm amber light. A large fireplace with flat stones to make the hearth crackled in the opposite corner of the establishment. There were lacquered tables with a single candle at each. Vlad gave his coat to an attendant and went directly to the bar. “Anything warm,” he told the barkeep before they had the chance to ask.

Next to him was the most unexpected creature....he smelt it first: dark earth, the overripe odor of berries left to rot and cigarette butts. It was alive, but not human -- the heat radiating off the other was almost tangible for its intensity. To the vampire, the man had the presence of one of those creatures he had only last seen in the old country over a hundred years ago. Mongrels. This man was and was not that very creature.