盗 賊 王

The Bandit King

[lordmukuro]

krovsxkharmine​:

“It wasn’t a dig.”

And yet Kharmine couldn’t help but to think otherwise. Ever since he’d been captured and taken to the castle, he’d only ever been chastised but then thought as brilliant. They’d been hot and then cold, and Kharmine was neither. He was always straight to the point without being wishy-washy. Otherwise, it was a waste of time. However, the other thought himself to be different, and the fae wasn’t sure what to think. A tiresome sigh escapes and his arms would fold across his chest as he’d close his eyes for a moment. “Did you ever think that maybe you’re just old?” He’d finally say, his violet hues settling onto him again. “Of course I am younger than you. You were probably there for the birth of Christ for all I know. If you believe in that.” Not that he wanted to open that can of worms, but he figured the other knew what he meant. “It’s fine.” 

The fae too, would comb his locks through, even dropping his head back to get the stray hair away from his neck. He’d pause as the other continued, and an even bigger irritation than he had before began to well up. As if old wounds would reappear. He didn’t expect the other to know him or his history, and he could not fault him for that, but even still– talking of the realm was not a subject he wanted to broach on entirely. “It’s one thing to be vicious. It’s another to speak a truth that people are too afraid to say or hear. I have no relation to the Unseelie Court. We are not all the same.” Magic had been used to make Kharmine, thus making him an outcast for the entirety of his life. Had he cared? No…… maybe. Not that any of it mattered. He did not partake in the war, and hadn’t cared that the portal closed or people were enslaved. At least in part he hadn’t cared. Why would he when no one cared for him? 

It was intentional but also unintentional as he’d clear his desk, making space. Though it kept his thoughts and hands busy as the two would banter and a laugh would finally escape the fae. Though he had to admit, he was somewhat interested now in what the other was saying. “Do I know it?” He’d glance over, teasing just slightly, though he hadn’t meant to. “I don’t know you at all, Councilman. You’re just threatening me with a good time at this point.” His back had been partially facing the other, but if one could see, there was a twinge of a smile on his face. “Again, I don’t care about my people, but– I cannot leave…not…yet.” He’d had unfinished business that he didn’t have any intent on sharing with the other. “Maybe once I figure out the problematic project I have now– then maybe..” He had not shown Mukuro, but it was clear that his skin had been marked with a cursed object, black veins along one arm and part of his chest in show for it. Khar would visit a certain hellhound to burn it out soon enough. 

The fae would make his way back over, noticing in the way the other would retrieve his hair back and not bothering at first to move from where he stood across. “Am I? You cannot stand there being who you are and deny it fully.” The fae would walk around his now emptied desk to stand close beside the other, not caring at this point if he’d been in the other’s space. He’d meet his face, as if searching for something that he could no longer hear. That stupid little trinket keeping the other’s thoughts to himself. “It’s not pity. I could give you a suppressant if you wanted it to offer some relief, but I won’t. Clearly I don’t care who or what you are. As you’ve basically pointed out. So it’s not that?” His brows would furrow in question and mild intrigue now that he was actually close enough to get a decent look at the man. Khar would pause, letting the other finish until his hand would reach out to again take a piece of the other’s hair, leaning in just a bit so that their faces had been close as well. 

“I’d rather keep you as a friend then if it’s all going to be thrown away for the sake of a pity-fuck.“

“Now who’s being assumptive?” Fuck the part of him that had been a trickster, because now he could not stop himself. Maybe the other had been right. Maybe he was vicious. Maybe that’s what stopped him from following through to begin with. “Just shut up and kiss me before I change my mind,” he’d speak rather lowly, the desk having already been cleared as they’d spoken. Kharmine, thinking ahead. He was no gentleman. 

.

“Did you ever think that maybe you’re just old?”

The sigh that heaved from Mukuro’s chest was one of never-ending exhaustion. Weary, bone-deep, as ageless as the rest of him. “All the time.” He chuckled, a mirthless, joyless sound as he turned to stare out the window at the grey sky above. It looked like rain - or perhaps snow. He hoped it would rain - he would’ve liked to have taken a run in the woods surrounding the castle and village. Pretend for a few, short hours that he was someone else. Something else. “Imagine...for a moment; that you’re an adult surrounded by children. No, not even children - infants. And they’re not yours, you didn’t beget them. No relationship whatsoever but they are bumbling and foolish and ignorant because of course they are. You can’t fault them, they’re babes. Barely weaned.” He drummed his fingers against the edge of a wooden surface nearby. 

“Imagine that you’re trying your best to keep them from ruining everything. They’re in your house, in your backyard, in your closet. They’re staining things, accidentally tripping, spilling oil, ruining your garden. You keep trying to round them up but you can’t, you’re only one person after all. Two arms. It’s your home they’re ruining. Your forest they...” He stopped himself, realizing a little too late that he’d lost himself in a reverie. That he was just babbling about nothing in all reality. Words he hadn’t meant for anyone to hear. For a moment, he wished he hadn’t been so old. 

He wished to be young again. In a place unspoiled. He turned his gaze back to a Kharmine with a heavy inhale of breath and shrugged. “Yes. Yes, I know I’m just old.” He let his voice simmer on the word. It wasn’t a good enough word for the purpose but it suited. It would have too. 

As the other kept speaking, Mukuro found himself chuckling. “Certainly.” He wasn’t going to bother with arguing on the semantics of it. A touchy subject obviously and one it would remain. 

“Again, I don’t care about my people, but– I cannot leave…not…yet.”

Mukuro nodded; “I wasn’t asking you to elope with me. Take your time, think about it.” He smiled, haggard from heat though it was. He was just about to make his exit when he saw the other move towards him and Mukuro stopped, eyeing the man in front of him before glancing towards the cleared desk with an intrigued expression. 

“Now who’s being assumptive?”

For an infinitely small second, Mukuro’s eyes narrowed at the sting. For that moment - he felt very small at having assumed they were friends. And he had! He had assumed. He had believed that he might’ve made a friend that could stand as an equal in intellect if in nothing else but he’d never actually asked if that was the case. He’d never asked if he’d been wrong. Glancing around the office - he wondered if he was just another intruder to him. An annoyance to slow down a busy day. His eyes moved to the piece of hair now held in the other’s grasp and gave into the request - kissing Kharmine hard. As needy as heat allowed. 

His hands were quick as they moved to the other’s shirt hem as he sat on the edge of the desk. Well, at least I’m not ruining a friendship then. 

[lordmukuro]

malcolmrossi​:

Having lived for five hundred years so far, Mal had seen quite a few heat weeks and just how intense that time could be for some.  So he was always impressed to run across someone who had such a level of control about them around this time, though he didn’t expect anything less from a councilman.  Being in control of yourself was, after all, a pretty big part of getting that kind of position.  With a smile, he reached out to take the other man’s hand, shaking it briefly.  “I don’t believe so.  Malcolm Rossi.  It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”  He wasn’t all that sure how the other man preferred to be called, so he played it safe for now and waved off the other man’s apology.

“No reason to be.  At least you’re handling this better than most of them out there.”  His grin was a little playful as Mal gestured out the door, the sounds and smells of heat week thankfully somewhat muted within the bar.  “Ah.  Just a bourbon for me, please.”  He stepped further into the bar, giving Mukuro’s security a once over and a nod before he settled near the councilman.  Mal left a stool between them, figuring with the man clearly struggling a bit with his heat that he didn’t want someone right on top of him.  “That it does.  Probably why I’m so happy to help people out during heat week even if I don’t experience it myself.”  Thankfully.  Mal was still young enough that he was sure he’d be having his own struggle if he was anything other than a vampire.

.

Mukuro gingerly took the other’s hand in the proffered handshake - his grip not quite as firm as he would’ve liked it to have been. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Rossi.” Mukuro replied, lifting his sake and taking a hefty sip - nodding to the bartender to go about fetching the bourbon for the other. Setting the glass down and flipping the folder in front of him closer, he sighed - pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ve had a lot longer to get used to it. It amounts to a particularly sweaty few days and a raging headache but...thankfully, that’s the worst of it usually.” Though Mukuro had to admit, being at Krovs - around so many other heats? It certainly seemed to have an effect on his own. Not necessarily making it more intense just more...insistent. 

Tedious. 

“That it does.  Probably why I’m so happy to help people out during heat week even if I don’t experience it myself.”

Mukuro glanced over to him with a small chuckle and a smirk. “Is that an offer, Mr. Rossi? Are you...what’s the english term for it? Hocking? Are you hocking your services to me?” He wasn’t annoyed, rather more bemused by the idea. Though it wasn’t a terrible one - the man was certainly attractive to be sure. 

[lordmukuro]

nottheangel-raphael​:

“It is indeed a pleasure,” Raphael replied, smiling widely. He so loved when others matched his level of ego, the ghoul so acutely aware of how it was an honor for many others to bask in his presence. Confidence was typically an attractive trait and Raphael De Luca had tons of it – maybe even too much – to spare. And there was that signature devilish twinkle in his dark eyes when he saw the way Mukuro inspected him, clearly considering the offer Raph knew he’d agree to. 

His smirk grew at the response and he cocked his head to the side as he once more met the kitsune’s gaze. “A busy man even in heat week. How impressive. This way, Councilman.” He gestured for the other to follow him back down the hallway in the opposite direction of where Mukuro had been heading. Fortunately their wing held all the councilmen’s suites nearby one another and the journey took only a few seconds even while walking at a slightly quickened pace. 

The younger councilman swiftly opened his suite door and gestured for Mukuro to enter. His suite was much like many other councilmen’s, large and spacious although Raph was one of the few who seemed to prefer a more modern decor with plenty of lighting and neutral colors in contrast to the bright pastels he often wore. “It should just be us for now,” Raph commented, certain that both his slaves were out busying themselves due to the silence. The second the door closed, he moved in on the ahool, drinking in his sexual energy from such close proximity long before he leaned down for a kiss to steal a larger sample. Absolutely delicious, as expected, but he’d save the full meal for later with the real fun. His hands fell to the other’s waist and the small of his back, pulling him in flush against the demon’s taller and muscular form. Given that Mukuro was his elder and a colleague, he’d show him some respect…unless he requested otherwise. “I will let you choose,” he murmured, now moving to trail his kisses tantalizingly slow along the other’s jawline and neck, speaking against his skin in between each and every one. “Would you like me to fuck you right here against the couch? The wall? Or would you prefer my bedroom?” 

.

The farther they walked, the more unsure Mukuro became of his answer. Though he already felt like death warmed over what with the stringent desire coursing through him - he had never made a habit out of sleeping with colleagues. At least not colleagues he didn’t have a distinct advantage over and the only one of those he had on Raphael was his age. Well that and money but that hardly counted amongst their kind. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop. I believe that’s how the saying goes.” He said, glancing back to his guards who had moved to follow them and waving them off. 

As he walked into the other man’s suite - Mukuro glanced around the decor; taking in the sights. It wasn’t too his taste but it didn’t have to be. It did seem to have a certain...coldness to it in all it’s modernity. It reminded him of the man who lived within. 

“It should just be us for now,”

Mukuro chuckled to himself; “I should certainly hope so. I don’t put on shows.” He walked a little further into the entryway - just gazing about when he felt the younger vampire move up behind him. Turning, he accepted the kiss - trying it out for size. It didn’t quite make up his mind for him and so he pulled Raphael back down for a second one. As their lips gliding together, he felt the resistance shrug away. He needed something and the other’s energy was particularly interesting and vast. When he pulled away and asked his questions, Mukuro grinned. “I’m pleased that you’re not attempting to bore me with conversation. The bedroom if you would. I don’t get fucked on couches by just anyone.” His tone was teasing, practically dripping with it. 

[lordmukuro]

jamesxzhao​:

It took him a little longer to realize what was going on in the castle than most people. Once he had he made his way to his sire knowing that he would need his help in dealing with his own heat. He was more than willing to give him a hand, and well, his body, in an attempt to ease some of his symptoms. When he got to the suite he was met with the guards that Mukuro employed, which usually would not have given him much issues but it seemed today they were anxious. He’d tell them he was allowed to come and go as he pleased, but they chose not to listen to him anyways. 

It wasn’t long before he was in front of the other, giving a few of the guards the stink eye before that, he could have been there much sooner had they not held him up. “Right away.” He chuckled softly before he was taken into a kiss, making it a bit difficult to remove the clothes he so desperately wanted him to lose. He’d kiss him back to match his hunger, while ripping the clothes he’d been wearing off of his body. Tossing the fabric to the ground leaving him bare chested as he quickly did the same to his pants, letting those fall elsewhere within the office. 

“You’re overdressed.” He said against his lips, moving his hands to the elder, pulling at his clothes in an attempt to get them off. He may not have been in heat himself but he would be lying if it didn’t affect him in some way. How warm the other was, how desperate he was to have him, only drove himself a little wild. He’d begin to trail his lips along his jawline, following along to his neck kissing as much of him as he could. When more skin was available to move to that too, all the while he was guiding the other back towards the desk. “Want to see you bent over that desk.” He said lowly, between those kisses, “If you don’t mind.”

.

The second Mukuro felt those arms wrap around him - relief coursed through him like a river. A sigh escaped him as he went still momentarily, breathing deep of that smell he loved so much - a moment in his agony to think on something else. Despite the ache to his heart, it felt like a little heaven there in his office. As James began to tear away his own clothes, Mukuro immediately began in that effort - assisting where he could. The survival of the garments wasn’t anywhere in his mind - deciding he’d just buy his lover a new wardrobe if he wanted as long as he took him hard and fast. 

The pants were next to go and Mukuro’s hand immediately found James’ length - stroking him as he felt his own garments become far too constricting. At his progeny’s comment, Mukuro growled in frustration - not wanting to be parted from the man even by a few feet but taking a step back anyway. “I don’t know why I even got dressed.” He hissed, ripping the coat from his back and throwing it to the ground. “I never stay dressed in heat. Tomorrow, you and I in bed. All day.” Tearing the seam of his slacks - he kicked them away, all but throwing himself back against James chest. 

Kisses upon kisses fell across both of them and Mukuro hadn’t felt so needy in all of his recent memory. Perhaps it was proximity to all the other heats happening around him as well but it was never this bad back home. Even without his suppressants, it was never like this. 

“Want to see you bent over that desk.”

Mukuro nodded against the kiss, practically begging for contact before breaking it. “Let me...yes...” His voice was threaded with desire as he quickly dropped to his knees. Pushing his hair behind one ear, he quickly took the Dhampir’s cock down his throat in one plunge. Wrapping delicate fingers around the base, Mukuro worked fast - sucking hard then soft, alternating intensity. He wanted him as hard as possible. He needed this to last. Standing back up, lips slightly swollen - he kissed James once more before moving to his desk. Bent over, he shoved the papers and laptop to the floor - desperate for relief. “Please...please, James...” He whimpered, head against the wood, one knee hiked up - his hair splayed everywhere. 

[lordmukuro]

krovsxkharmine​:

“You and everyone else apparently. This isn’t my first rodeo being around those who suffer from a heat. I have suppressants somewhere in here–” He’d mutter the end more to himself than the other. 

The little Unseelie boy with absolutely no heat to speak of is uncomfortable?”

Kharmine would pause in his movements, eyes narrowing while he’d cross his arms over his chest. This was why he didn’t like dealing with vampires. Especially ones that were old as fuck. He’d hum, pursing his lips for just a moment before he’d tut towards the other. “I’ll have you know that I am over five-hundred years old– which I know doesn’t say much in terms of fae life, but I have seen quite a bit in my lifetime already. I am no boy.” The fae would settle, pausing for a moment. “Who’s problem is it that they’re super horny? Not mine,” he’d pucker his lips in a pout as he mumbled through them. As the other continued, Kharmine wasn’t sure if the other realized he was digging himself into a deeper hole the more he spoke. The fae didn’t have to help him. He didn’t have to do anything. He had the upper hand in this situation, even if the other was above him in rank. Kharmine did not care. He’d take in a deep breath to calm himself. “This space might not look like much, but I guarantee there are things far more interesting in here than whatever you could provide.” The fae would draw his face closer to the other, eyeing him for a moment, as if taunting him just a little bit. “Be careful not to bite the hand that feeds you, Councilman.” Even if the other thought he was complimenting him, the fae did not like such pleasantries, finding them to be farce, especially by the likes of vampires who did whatever they wanted. He didn’t trust anyone other than his own self– and a certain Phoenix.

The fae would do this dance with the other, even if he’d been somewhat interested in what the other had to say. The other was clearly vain, cocky, arrogant– though he supposed if someone had been as old as Mukuro with the looks he had, the fae supposed he too would be the same. The other was more experienced in life in general. The fae knew what the other was doing, and as their faces would meet across his desk, he’d stare at the other evenly, mindful to not simply give in to his whims. “Oh trust me. Pulling your hair is definitely an option.” He’d lift his hand, taking a piece of the other’s hair to twirl it around his finger, just to tease the other a bit more. “Here’s the thing. I don’t like being used. I get enough of that with this damn job.” He’d pause, eyeing the other fully, taking note of the beads of sweat on his face, or the desperation his body gave off. It was cute, he had to admit, but this whole thing was strange. “I’m not saying I want some relationship or anything weird like that– however… remember that I am doing you a favor. Again.” The fae would lift his hand further up within the other’s hair, tightening his grip around his scalp and pulling him closer so that their faces would meet more evenly. “So, I will ask this once. Are you sure? This scene isn’t some fancy hotel with silken sheets and caviar. I can help you, but I am no gentleman.” 

.

He matches his Court, I’ll give him that. For a moment - Mukuro stepped into a well of memory. Of being chastised by another Unseelie Fae who thought she knew something about how the world worked. It...sparked something, a strange second of joy before it was replaced with a sweaty need that wouldn’t let up despite Mukuro wishing he could claw it from his bones. He chuckled at the other’s annoyance - nodding along with the words spoken. “It wasn’t a dig.” He interrupted at one point. Turning from where he’d been examining some pile left on top of a chair, he smiled at the Fae. “It wasn’t a dig. I’m not calling you boy as a sign of disrespect but you’re all so young...” He glanced back to the pile - lifting a finger and gently pushing a tome so the stack would align. Better to keep it from toppling. 

“So...volatile...it’s almost nice actually.” He was still standing in that well, his gaze far off. “I used to know other Fae from your Court. Many. They were the best of friends. People have the wrong idea about the Unseelie. They hear the word and they think ‘evil’ but that’s not quite true, is it? It’s rather more...vicious. Not evil but just...vicious. You’re vicious, aren’t you? Even though you’re pretending you’re not. You’re certainly letting me have it, hmm?” He walked back over to the desk, leaning on it - letting the other look him in the eye. 

He didn’t stop any of it. He cared to listen as strange as it was. It was...refreshing. So many were so scared of him. So many cowered when he walked into the room. The utmost respect they didn’t really mean but gave anyway because it was all just a game and he was one of the strongest players. It was nice to hear it from someone so common. Someone who clearly held different ideals. Someone who wasn’t a Councilman or an ageless terror. Just a faerie with opinions. It was charming. 

“This space might not look like much, but I guarantee there are things far more interesting in here than whatever you could provide.”

Mukuro held up one finger. “That is...I mean...that is uniformly untrue and you know it. Would you like to come back with me to Tokyo when I eventually leave this place for a few weeks? I can show you the facilities I have. Filled to the brim with artefacts from this world...and yours...” He let that sink in for a moment. 

When the other reached for his hair, Mukuro eyed the hand tangled in it for a moment while the other went on before quietly taking a step back, pulling his hair free of the other’s grasp. “When did I ever ask for caviar and a gentleman? Now who’s being the assumptive one? You think that because of the life I’ve cultivated for myself now I’ve never rutted in the woods under the moon with leaves and twigs in my hair? Howling? But you’re right...I’m using you, aren’t I? And you’re going along with it? Out of...pity? Do you feel obligated because I am a Councilman?” The hair he’d freed from the other he twisted in between his own fingers, thinking. 

“I’d rather keep you as a friend then if it’s all going to be thrown away for the sake of a pity-fuck. I can find someone else, Kharmine - I don’t mind but...that was all you had to say.”  

[lordmukuro]

nottheangel-raphael​:

As usual this time of year, Raphael found plenty of ways to keep himself busy. If he wasn’t with his own slaves, he was tending to an unclaimed one worthy of his attention or maybe even a staff member or two as part of his “good deeds” for the year. Of course it was all so self-serving and never truly to “help.” As an incubus who fed upon the sexual energy of others, he took advantage of heat week in Krovs like a Thanksgiving feast. An all he could eat buffet. And yes, he’d been starving himself for the last week or so in order to eat all that he could. 

Only this time there were newcomers in the council to partake in heat outside of Raiden, whom Raph found to be hit or miss in heat week. No doubt he could take the savage quadbrid’s violent form of pounding, but the two of them often had a clashing of inflated egos. He also much preferred Raiden’s sire Lucien, who’d recently been transformed into a vampire neko hybrid partially – or maybe entirely – at Raph’s hand in an attempt to save his life after the whole ordeal with Krovs Town’s chief of police that he’d easily smoothed over with the council. 

And finally, there was the Japanese councilman joining them in the castle, Mukuro Murayama. A gorgeous looking specimen with the flavors of a certain mystical fox spirit akin to an incubus in their shared diet. And speak of the handsome devil, there he was coming down the hallway of council suites as Raph left his. “Ciao, Councilman Mukuro,” he greeted the elder with one of his ever charming and winning smiles. “I am almost surprised to see you out and about this week.” The ghoul bravely walked right up to the kitsune, leaving barely a few inches between them as his dark eyes roamed over Mukuro’s features and form deliberately. Oh, he could practically taste the energy oozing off of the other man and he wanted more than just the sampler. “It is quite hot out, no? Perhaps I could help you cool down.” 

​

.

Continuous. One, long, endless stream of words. Mukuro sat at the desk, reading over the report - one hand massaging his temple while he did so. It wasn’t the news he wanted. It most certainly was not the news he wanted. “When was this sent?” He asked, glancing to the aide beside him who was busy typing away messages to be sent back to Tokyo. “An hour ago, sir.” Mukuro looked back to the report, swallowing and leaning back in the office chair - wiping at the sweat that beaded his brow. “Buy it before they do. First five percent, tomorrow move that to ten. That’ll give them pause. Next month, go five, another ten. Buy the last thirty assuming some economist working for the news or something doesn’t notice.” 

“Sir? Isn’t that skirting anti-trust...?”

“Now.” The aide immediately stood, gathering up his laptop and making his way out of the suite. Rubbing at one eye - Mukuro needed...something. He was starving, in more ways than one and his heat was already beginning to pick up again despite the events of the morning with James. Sighing to himself - he decided he’d simply have to go for a slave. Collecting himself, stretching and pulling on some clothes - he made his way out into the hallway and began towards the elevator when he was stopped by the arrival of another Councilman. 

“Councilman De Luca, always a pleasure.” It took work to keep his tone from growing annoyed at being interrupted. He felt sweat drip down the back of his neck, his hands trembled, he needed...something. He needed anything and everything and there was a slave somewhere within that fucking castle that had it. “I’m afraid I’m not quite myself, you’ve caught me at a bad time. Perhaps we could...” 

“It is quite hot out, no? Perhaps I could help you cool down.”

Mukuro paused. Looking over to the Ghoul, eyes flitting over his form - Mukuro rolled the idea around in his head for only a moment before settling. “Your suite if you wouldn’t mind - people are busy working in mine.” 

[lordmukuro]

malcolmrossi​:

Mal was relieved that he didn’t have to experience the effects of heat, but he was always more than happy to help out those who did.  Doing so had kept him pretty damn busy the past couple of days, alternating his time between his various friends and a few slaves to offer them some kind of relief.  The vampire had decided to take a break for the moment and had made his way toward the bar, a familiar haunt of Mal’s.  What he wasn’t expecting when he pushed open the doors to the bar was to catch sight of someone’s security, the men eyeing him with obvious caution.  It drew amusement briefly from Mal, his gaze scanning the bar and settling on the man seated.

“Good evening, councilman.”  He greeted, inclining his head slightly in respect as he moved further into the room.  Though they hadn’t met, Mal had made a habit of learning who the higher ups were within the castle ever since he’d started to visit Krovs.  It benefited him, if only because that meant he knew when to avoid stepping one someone’s toes.  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

.

The man was of pure-blood. Mukuro could smell it almost instantly, the lack of any other kind of distinct supernatural blood. As the headache increased and the jittery need to be touched intensified - he almost envied the man. He was attractive to be sure - tall and handsome. Mukuro was relatively certain they’d never met but the other seemed informed on at least his station if not his name. The Elder glanced to his security, chuckling at that very obvious tip-off. “Good evening to you as well.” He offered a hand; “Mukuro Murayama of Japan. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” Fetching a cloth from his breast pocket - he wiped at the sweat beading his forehead, disdainfully annoyed at having too in front of a stranger. 

“My apologies...” He whispered, shucking out of the coat he wore - laying it over the tall back of the barstool he sat on. Glancing to the bartender, who so far had been keeping himself busy on the far side of the bar - away from the Elder yet constantly watching in case he was needed. “Would you fetch another cup for...?” He gestured to the man. 

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Mukuro pulled the curtain of his hair back behind one ear, giving a small shake of his head. “No, no...not at all. It’s been...” He licked at his bottom lip, sighing to himself. “Heat has had it’s effects on us all. Some...more than others.” He looked back to his work, scratching off a few more signatures. 

[lordmukuro]

krovsxkharmine​:

“Did you just curse at me–?” The fae having been surprised such words would ever escape the normally composed councilman, or that such words were even in his vocabulary. He’d crawl out from under his space, taking note of the mess that was all around them, to which he’d felt somewhat embarrassed now. It was far from the refined tastes or scenery he imagined the other to be in. Yet, here he was, suffering with his heat, and Kharmine thought him to still be the most beautiful creature he ever saw. Now he was annoyed at himself, and he’d sigh rather heavily. “You do not look like a fright. Could you not be so formal? You’re making me uncomfortable.” –Annnnd as usual, the fae with no care in the world for his lack in filter. Eyes meeting the other’s own, his finger would quickly lift to stop the vampire, already guessing as to what the other was thinking, even if he couldn’t read into his thoughts anymore. “Don’t even think about it– I have wards in place for my own safety. I don’t care how old you are. Age means nothing when it comes to what I can do.” That was the one problem he had when it came to the vampires of the castle. Many spoke of him highly, despite his strange behavior, and yet they also looked down on him. Kharmine had grown in nothing but magic, and was highly proficient in it compared to everything else that others would deem more important. He hadn’t cared though. 

As the other would finally speak again, the fae would lean against his desk, arms crossed over his chest protectively, but he did not expect his question to make that kind of a turn. Eyes would stare in a stun silence, his mind processing what was asked of him. He could not believe this was happening right now. Where had he put those suppressants again? “Ahh—” his voice would drone out in a hum, violet hues moving to look around his office. The place was a mess, and the vampire was desperate enough to do such a thing…with him….in here? Kharmine hadn’t liked being touched, and he was sorely lacking in the intimacy department after being stuck with old tomes and ruins. Hell, he’d stopped himself with a certain phoenix. A hand would reach up to comb through his own hair, but he’d finally meet the other’s gaze, swallowing a bit thickly. “I have not had the….pleasure, but I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He’d suck in a breath, his hands finding his own pockets while eyes would narrow just slightly, his concerns now on something else completely. “Can I touch your hair in the process? I would think….that’s a fair price.”

.

Maybe it was the sheer surprise on the other’s face or maybe it was some sort of sex-starved mania but Mukuro couldn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled up from within at the other’s incredulous question. “Indeed, it seems I did.” He held up one hand, resting the back of his palm against his forehead as he glared about the room. How one could ever find anything in such a place was beyond him but he also knew better than to comment on it. Brilliant minds were often cluttered ones as well and Mukuro knew the other man to be brilliant, whether that was accepted knowledge amongst the castle or not. “I...am not quite myself. Heat makes me...temperamental.” It wasn’t an excuse but an explanation. 

Mukuro was surprised at his language though. He typically held himself to a higher standard. Typically. “Uncomfortable? The little Unseelie boy with absolutely no heat to speak of is uncomfortable?” Mukuro bit at each syllable, his annoyance apparent but...tempered by the compliment and as a vainglorious creature; he preened. Combing a hand through his hair, he tossed it over one shoulder. Not dramatically, just enough. Mukuro had mastered ‘just enough’ millennia ago. When the other caught onto his thoughts - the Ahool’s eyes flickered with ghostly foxfire for just a second, almost a flare of delight. 

“You really are one of the most perceptive individuals in this place, despite your...” He glanced around to the mess once more; “...methods of organization.” He found himself chuckling, shaking his head mirthlessly. “But...have no fear, I wouldn’t try anyway. There are lines even I won’t cross. Well...sometimes.” He drew closer to Kharmine, watching the other consider his request as one might watch a chef prepare a meal. 

“It’s not bad at all. Especially with me, not that I’d ever be so given to self-aggrandizement.” He stalked a little closer, reaching the opposite side of the desk from Kharmine. Placing the flat of his palms against it - his hair fell in a curtain on either side of his face. 

“Can I touch your hair in the process? I would think….that’s a fair price.”

The Elder laughed, a throaty - almost pleased - kind of laugh. Lifting a hand, he ran his fingers through his locks, combing the straight hair a little straighter. His eyes practically glowed with a mischievous, intrigued spark - despite the roaring headache behind his eyes and the need for contact. Any contact at this point. “Of course you can, as long as you promise to pull it a bit too.”

[lordmukuro]

He found himself at the bar. Seated and thumbing through a number of documents, a bottle of warm sake sitting next to a ceramic cup. Lifting his pen, fidgeting - Mukuro signed off a few papers; particularly fond of a requested grant of a few million to keep a program going relating to synthetic blood for vampires. One that was supposedly going to actually taste good rather than the attempts that have been made before. He fidgeted again - sighing to himself as he looked up at the moon through the windows. Mukuro preferred the night in the castle. 

It was quieter. Daylight rings had made his kindred vampires closer to mortals in that way. Everyone seemingly slept and woke on similar schedules but he remembered the old days. Back when witches were feared and the sun was the greatest enemy of all. He still slept too late, stayed up until the early morning. Hard to shake thousands of years of tradition. 

He lifted the glass to his lips, taking a hefty swing but it did nothing to calm the jitters. James had given him an excellent fuck earlier in the day - helped soothe his heat-addled brain but it was already beginning to pick back up. He could feel the sweat beginning to drip down the length of his back, the pounding headache was arriving. He needed something, some sort of...contact. Anything. He heard the doors to the bar open and he glanced in that direction, several members of his private security moving to intercept the newcomer but with a whispered order - they all backed away. He hadn’t been expecting company, especially so late but was hopeful it might be someone worth while. 

@malcolmrossi

[lordmukuro]

Seated at his desk, Mukuro felt strung out. Everything ached, his head hurt, his eyes were tired, even his skin felt overly sensitive. He definitely needed to have this phenomenon looked at a bit more closely back home. Eyeing the ‘List’ on his laptop - he quietly scrolled through the pages upon pages of corporations, companies, hedgefunds and megaconglomerates he either owned or sat on the board of. He’d need to set on them on the right course. Start steering things in his direction. 

He heard the gears of the elevator start to turn a good 3 minutes before anyone came into his office to tell him James had arrived back at the suite. He glanced up at the guard. “James doesn’t need permission, he can come and go as he likes.” 

“Well...in your state, sir.” Mukuro waved away the concern. 

“In my state? James is the only one who can fucking help me in my state!” He nearly snarled back in Japanese, the guard immediately lowering his gaze. “Of course, shachou.” As the guard made his exit, Mukuro sat up a little bit more as James arrived - a near sigh of relief on his lips. “Get naked, for the love of all the Gods - just get naked. Please.” Pushing himself to his feet - Mukuro crossed the distance in an instant, kissing his progeny hard. 

@jamesxzhao

[lordmukuro]

krovsxkharmine​:

When it seemed there wasn’t enough wards to hide him from everything that was happening, he would retreat into his office instead, putting up more wards. He knew his strength wasn’t as powerful as it normally would have been, seeing as he’d hoped his little hellhound of a friend could help Kharmine burn out the cursed veins that had blackened and spread on the entirety of one arm and part of his chest. It didn’t hurt, but it was more like a dulling ache that wouldn’t go away. He didn’t let that stop him from working, but it did put a damper in some of his magical use. The fae hadn’t told anyone as to not worry anyone, but he would pay it no mind for now. His main concern was simply hiding. Those in heat would be up to anything with their minds being foggy with sheer lust. When the door to his office would creak open, he’d groan and quickly try to hide beneath his desk, his office already in a disarray since he had disorganized, organized chaos. It would seem though, he could not truly hide, for the one who’d peek his head around would be the same councilman he’d helped previously. Looking rather scrunched up beneath his desk, he’d glance up at the man with a rather embarrassed smile, pretending as if everything was normal. “Master Mukuro– what a pleasant surprise.” He’d clear his throat, trying to move about so he could remove himself and finally stand before the other, fixing his clothes and hair in the process. “You look…well…all things considered.”

@lordmukuro

.

He wasn’t even sure where he was going anymore. Wandering about the castle, his fingers occasionally finding his temple - massaging in soothing circles as he tried desperately to just...keep it together. He had business to attend too, a life to live - he didn’t have time for heat. Back home, he had suppressants - ones that he’d had developed especially for himself by one of the various pharmaceuticals he owned. He hadn’t expected to be here so long, to be without them. 

Finding himself meandering down a hallway, he prayed no one he knew would come looking. To find him in such a state - sweaty, annoyed, needy. He hated it. Crossing at an intersection, he wasn’t sure which direction he was headed when he began to smell it. A familiar scent. One that ringed itself in memory. The same blood that flowed in the veins of the faeries he’d known. So similar to her after he’d given her to the shapes in the woods. 

He stopped in front of the door, staring at the grain in the wood - breathing deep before pushing the door open with little ceremony. Stepping inside - his nose immediately rankled at the chaos and disorganization that cluttered the area. Glaring at the sudden voice - Mukuro cocked his head to the side, so very much like the spirit he’d been so long ago. He recognized him. The Fae who’d helped him with all that jewelry business. The smell was pungent, delicious to a racing mind. Mukuro could practically hear the blood thrumming through the other’s veins, sparking with sexual energy. That really was the worst part of his heat. How hungry he came for energy. Blood was nothing. 

He needed more. 

“Don’t bullshit me, I know I look a fright.” He chuckled, staring down at his trembling hands - the way sweat beaded on his neck. Looking up - he caught Kharmine’s gaze; thinking of taking the other over for just a split second before discarding the idea. Almost disgusted at himself for such a thought. Possession was not something Mukuro did lightly though he did wonder if a stay in someone else’s body would rid him of the symptoms for a while. He’d have to have a chat with James. 

“Would you so kind as to offer me a little bit of aid, Kharmine?” Mukuro began, his smile warm. “Have you ever had someone ride you?” 

[lordmukuro]

jamesxzhao​:

Despite their size they were gentle, and soft in their movements, brushing along exposed skin of the other. The more that was shown to him the more he wanted to touch as though he hadn’t touched him as much as he has already. He loved it, the feel of his smooth skin under his fingers, the way it seemed to align with how elegant he naturally seemed to be. Something he found himself rather envious of at times, how he could look and act with such grace, he often felt like a bull in a china shop. Aside from the touching he enjoyed when they kissed, their lips seemingly melding together as though they were made to be. He’d press further into the kiss, slowly dominating it with his own need and desire. 

In that time he had helped where he could in removing the robe he was wearing, seemingly chasing it so he could touch more of him. To add to his long list of favorite things about his sire was how beautiful he was completely naked, seeing him in this way always aroused him. “Maybe not– but at least I can give you that much.” He may use this time to feed himself, in ways that James will never really understand, but for him he was grateful to give him that extra, the bonus. He deserved it, in James’ eyes, he deserved the world and then some. 

His own hands would trail along the others neck, drift over his jawline, then back down further along his chest. Fingers brushing along a single nipple with he felt the hand around his length, there a small hiss from him could be heard at the touch. He’d bury his face into the crook of his neck, teeth grazing along his skin as he worked to leave a mark there. Careful not to actually bite, knowing that the blood would make him sick or worse, despite the pull to do so. “Seeing you like that, unraveling, lost in the pleasure I gave you… It’s my favorite.” He’d say, between those kisses and nibbles, pushing himself up into the hand to encourage him to move. 

.

Mukuro could never fully hide from the guilt when they got like this. When his hunger kicked in and James was always more than willing to satisfy it. He knew it was selfish of him; calling him to bed to feed a thirst that made no sense to those who weren’t like him. A desperate need for energy, the light behind the blood. But as James kissed him, his lips travelling down to his neck - leaving a bruise that wouldn’t last the next minute; it was easy to fall into the sensation of it all. “You give plenty.” Mukuro whispered, leaning down to capture James’ mouth once more with his - the kiss soft and needy. 

The weight was comforting, feeling the body over him - the closeness. The scent. As James nibbled at his throat, Mukuro breathed deep and felt himself transported. How similar they both smelled. For a moment, as he closed his eyes - Mukuro was not in a cold castle. He was lying by a stream, with the warm sun above him, curled around a man that was not truly his. As James spoke once more, the delusion wavered but Mukuro didn’t fight it. He watched the vision of the past drift from his eyes as his progeny’s beautiful face came into view. Lifting a hand, he brushed the pad of his thumb over the other man’s lips - “You’re the best I’ve ever had.” It wasn’t a lie. Not truly. 

Staring into those eyes, how easy it was for the Ahool to imagine he was simply staring at the same man. That he’d lived long enough for ‘in another life’ to become reality. He closed his hand around the man’s length - giving another pump, kissing him hard; yielding his mouth to his progeny to be claimed. With a fraction of force - Mukuro flipped them; his lithe form sitting atop James’ hips. Leaning down, he pressed one more kiss to him before he began to slowly snake his way down. Kiss after kiss fell across his chest, his nipples, his stomach. Reaching the hardening cock - Mukuro glanced up once to James before taking him in his mouth. One, long slide - straight down to the back of his throat. Withdrawing, he licked at the tip before plunging again. It wasn’t a long blowjob - more of an effort to get James as hard as possible before Mukuro was once again climbing up him, trailing kisses. 

Legs slung over his progeny’s hips, Mukuro ground against cock once - teasing. He grinned down. “I want it rough.” He whispered, licking at the corner of James’ lips. “And fast.” He kissed him, slipping his tongue into his mouth. “Hurt me a little bit.” 

[lordmukuro]

krovsxkharmine​:​

He hadn’t even been back long before he’d been pulled left and right for something. It was honestly kinda annoying, but that was the unfortunate responsibility of being the Head Consultant and for leaving again just shortly after arriving previously. He couldn’t help it this time around. After making Ember forget him completely, Kharmine could not bring himself to be anywhere near him. It made him feel things, and feelings were a hard pass. As he entered the suite, he’d been somewhat uneasy with the entourage that had escorted him here. Which meant one of two things. This person was on the council, or they had some seriously deep pockets, because no normal vampire would have their own private security. Yet, here was the fae, waltzing in without any care in the world besides the unease and intrigue of his reason of being here. When violet hues would finally meet the other’s extremely attractive form, the fae would tilt his head while he examined the other more closely, not caring or paying mind to how rude it might have seemed to stare. Kharmine hadn’t had a care for anything, but his work. Thus his social skills were quite lacking. “Do I? Surprising seeing as I mostly cause grief to most of the staff in the castle,” he’d muse lightly, thinking of all the times he’d ruined his lab or some crazy magic got out of hand. Nobody got hurt, but people were certainly mad. Again, he had not cared. Khar would sit across from the other, crossing his legs while fingers would lightly drum on his knees. “Before business, I think it best to know who it is that I am talking to. Unless I just–” he’d tap on his temple, referencing his abilities as fae, though he rarely used such things. He was far too smart anyway to do so. 

.

He’d never met the man he’d had summoned but he wasn’t necessarily put off by his demeanor when he entered. Mukuro was well aware of what he looked like and there was certainly a vain little sliver of him that liked being admired. As the other sat down, referencing his apparent recommendation - Mukuro chuckled to himself. “Well...not enough grief for it to reach my ears.” He took the tea off the flame - pouring two cups of the steaming hot brew. “You should work on that. If you’re going to cause trouble, cause enough of it to make a problem.” The Elder grinned, sliding one of the small, ceramic cups to Kharmine’s side of the table. 

Sipping at his own tea, he watched Kharmine motion to his temple and Mukuro’s expression fell just slightly. “No.” He wasn’t going entertain an explanation on why he didn’t want staff rooting around inside his brain. “My name is Mukuro Murayama. I sit on the Council representing my home of Japan. I’m also one of the oldest things in this place - if not the oldest, in fact. And funny you should mention that...” Lifting a finger, Mukuro elegantly tapped it to his own temple. 

“That’s precisely what I need you for. I’d like a piece of jewelry enchanted. You can handle that, correct? Or know someone who can weave the incantations if you’re unable too? Normally; I’d have such an item procured privately but I need it on short notice. You’ll be well compensated, of course.” 

[lordmukuro]

krovsxskye​:

Skye hadn’t seen the other since….then, as he’d stand beneath the rain, protected by a black umbrella. He’d been angrier, grief stricken with the loss of his late wife, and the other was no comfort to him. At least, that’s what he thought at the time. He’d hated everyone, and all the eyes that would look at him sympathetically only made him more irate. He hadn’t understood why they cared. Why anyone would show up to a funeral of someone he himself had murdered. ‘It was an accident.’ Some would say. ‘You were targeted on purpose.’ As if any of that could excuse the vampire for what he’d done. As years went by, Skye had…changed. His diet changed, his demeanor changed. He could not bring himself to let others in when they had wanted to, and he just– blocked everything out. If he couldn’t be made to feel, he figured attachments would pass him by and others would be safe. Little did he know, that a certain Phoenix had woken something, along with those he had recently met along the way. It was strange being back in society, his council work no longer the center of his universe. A part of him only wondered just how long it would last before he hurt someone else. Surely, whomever had target him the first time, was gone already? 

There was a hint of a smile hearing the elder, and he’d had wanted to say many things, but his guilt kept him mostly quiet. “I suppose, but I’ve been kept grounded. Only time will tell if I shall stay.” Skye would open the door to his suite, stepping in and making room for the other so that he may close the door behind them. His place was clean and organized. Showing the rather stiff livelihood he lived, but there were small pieces that showcased his personality. None of which was a reminder of her, and for that, he had done on purpose. Only a pair of wedding rings remained hidden within his desk, encased in a small box that he would look at from time to time, but never open. Some things, were better left in the dark. “Well, considering that’s all these old fools seem to like doing in their spare time, I am not surprised.” Skye would make his way to heat the kettle on the stove as well as grab two mugs, but hearing the other had made him pause, hands clutching tightly now to them. “No–” He’d lie. No, the castle called him back, threatening to reveal who could have possibly invaded his home that day. “I did claim someone, if that is what you are asking. He’s….different.” Different than himself, he meant. Ember was a breath of fresh air, breathing a life into the old bones of a vampire who’d been lost to grief. 

Pressure from his hands would finally break the glass, and a long pause would fill the space. Skye would swallow thickly, his throat dry. He could not bring himself to answer. Nor did he want to remember. The once crimson hues would now fade to their natural hues, a rare sight when it came to Skye. As if he’d been completely deflated. “Keep it.” His eyes would not meet his hands that were covered in his own blood, but wounds would quickly heal. He’d blink away the thoughts and move again, washing his hands in the sink while he tried to clean everything up, but there was but one question that he needed to get off his chest. One question he’d wanted to ask all those years ago, but he’d been far too broken to utter them. “Did you– do you….hate me?” Afterall, he’d killed a daughter figure, and he knew how close they were. Skye could not bring himself to meet Mukuro after that. Finding that isolation was probably best, but now–? He was unsure. He’d met someone who’d given him something to look forward to. The kettle would pipe up behind him, and he’d move about the kitchen, trying to swallow down his sadness, his guilt. Anything to distract himself from the other. 

.

In a way, Mukuro pitied the younger vampire. Not out of disrespect but rather understanding - a modus operandi of grief. He’d walked the same path - sat alone in the same darkness, candle in hand; never once bothering to light the wick. It was...new - to see him in such a state. Mukuro remembered the smiles, the wide grins, the laughter. He could recall the tinkling of crystal glasses as they all sat on the veranda as dinner was served to them. For a split second - Mukuro could still hear Hikari’s laugh. He listened as the other spoke on his newfound pursuit. Mukuro couldn’t say he approved but what did his opinion matter? 

Staring at the doorway where Skylar had disappeared; Mukuro hoped he wasn’t due for another heartbreak. Another reason to shut himself away. When the other lied, Mukuro could tell. He didn’t pry - if truth was something to be avoided, that was a rule the Ahool could play by.  “Lies are unbecoming. Just say if you don’t wish to speak on something. I’d have thought you would have understood this by now.” It was a lie in and of itself. Mukuro was treacherous, a practiced liar who understood the truth better than most but there were some people he would not lie too. Some people whom the truth served admirably enough. Skylar was one of those people...for now, at least. 

Listening - staring out at the sky; it was as if Mukuro could slow it all down. He heard the first strains of pressure against the ceramic, the individual cracks beginning to appear. He could hear the first snap, the slice of sharp fragments cutting into Skylar’s palms. He said nothing, blinking slowly at the sky with a small sigh. Seems he wasn’t ready for that conversation after all. Seemed he wasn’t ready for many things. For a moment - Mukuro wondered why he’d even come at all. Festering wounds had to be cleansed of their infection before sewing. What good was it to try to seal this matter when it clearly still required debridement. 

He was about to turn to leave. 

“Did you– do you….hate me?”

He paused, standing by the archway that lead to Skylar’s kitchen. Shifting his gaze - Mukuro felt the foxfire spring into his eyes but he cast it away. “Don’t be ridiculous.” His voice was acidic. Offended. He turned to face Skylar, his expression souring in the half-light from the overcast day outside. “Hate is not nearly a close enough word for what I felt.” For the first time in centuries, a single tear slipped from the Elder’s eye. 

“The day I heard what had happened, I had planned many, many things. Originally, I was going to simply have you all killed. You, your sire, any other progeny he may have begat and any living generations of all your families.” Mukuro looked down to his hand which he had to consciously unfurl from the fist he’d made it. “I was...beyond anything one person could understand as grief...” Slowly, he dropped his hand - his eyes glassy with memory, his lips parted. 

He lifted to gaze to Skylar’s. “And then that night - after I had given the order to my men to start this grand purge...I heard her voice while I was staring out at the moon, by the Gods, how Hikari had loved the moon. And...she told me she forgave me and...that I should forgive you. Maybe it was lunacy. Maybe in my old age I’ve begun to lose my mind but it was that singular moment that saved many lives.” Raising his hand, Mukuro ran it through his hair - combing out the strands with a flick of his wrist. 

“I called off the order. I went to the funeral and I saw you. I...I saw what it had done to you. I saw your suffering and knew it as a brother to mine own.” The Elder’s voice grew quieter, his expression softening. He held out one hand towards Skylar. “I did hate you. Of course I did. But...you were husband to the closest thing I’ll ever have to family and...I will not forsake you. I still call us ‘friends’. I still love you like my own blood. That will not change.” 

[lordmukuro]

[lordmukuro]

[lordmukuro]

Calm. Quiet and peaceful and calm. Mukuro preferred his morning as such, sitting on a tatami mat as the sun pulled itself from it’s slumber from over the horizon. Incense filled the air, drifting from a multitude of censers scattered about the area. A table sat next to him, decorated with small plates of delicate finger foods and breakfast sweet meats. A pot of tea bubbled joyously over a small fire-pit. Hands clasped in his lap, the Elder watched the sun. Watched as it crested the clouds, began it’s upwards journey. He felt the rays through the glass - felt the way they should’ve scorched his flesh but were held at bay by the magic of the ring on his finger. 

He idly twisted the ring, eyes hazy and unfocussed as he drifted through memory. He was expecting company. Some member of the staff that had been recommended to him by another Councilman. A consultant on the acquirement of certain...artefacts. 

He heard footsteps coming down the hallway, the sound of his private security as well as those of another. When the door opened, Mukuro spoke; “Kharmine, isn’t it? You come highly recommended.” He stated, voice even as he lifted the tea pot and poured one cup for the faerie. “Sit. Eat. We have business to discuss.” 

@krovsxkharmine​