needed | deimos & matthew
deimosxnightmare:
Deimos was barely panting as he stared at the angel, fallen if the color of his wings said anything about it. This wasn’t Saoul and Deimos felt stupid for thinking it was him. He scoffed mentally at his absurd thinking that he had returned to him. He wiped his hands on his clothes not that it did much since it too was covered in blood. “That’s good.” He said as he looked over at the vampire and then all around them. Death hung in the air and the smell of blood was thick. He scrunched up his nose and looked back at the angel. “You’re welcome. I would have walked on but i couldn’t let a fellow demon get beat up by a fucking bloodsucker.” He spat on the ground. “Deimos. I go by Deimos.”
He eyed the male’s wings and a small smile came to his lips. “You got gorgeous wings. They look better black anyway.” He complimented, “You need healing?” He asked as he noticed that the other was in pain.
“Aren’t you a nice one, Deimos,” Matthew answered with a smile and he could not help wanting to preen a little when the man said such nice things about his wings. “You think so?” His wings fluffed out behind him a little as one of them moved to curl around him.
“Oh dear. They’re in a bit of a mess, aren’t they?” Feathers were sticking out in various directions from his little scuffle and he could feel a few tender spots from where the vampire had bent and twisted them too far. “Are you offering to heal me?” he asked as his smile turned into a grin. The man was very handsome and Matthew could use the protection until his magic returned to him, not that he was going to let the other demon know just how defenceless he truly was at the moment.
“Am I? Nice i mean.” Deimos asked in a dead voice. His face was back in his stoic look. He wasn’t one for any small idle chatting but something about this angel pulled at him. He gave him the impression of Saoul and it bothered him greatly. “Better if they were in a mess and not ripped off.” He replied as he looked the wings over again. Vampires were cruel beings and they were not forgiving either. He walked over to the angel and placed a hand over his wing and used his magic to smooth and heal the damaged feathers. He then moved his hand to touch his shoulder, to heal him. “Where is your magic?” He asked once he was done healing him. He rubbed his hand on his thigh as if touching him made it tingle.















