Macklyn Warlow

indie - private - highly selective MACKLYN MARLOW from hbo's true blood. nsfw content read rules

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

scrxffed: 

The noise he makes could best be described as indignant as he recoils, only to be swept back onto the bed like an unruly child. Warlow’s patient authority irks him sometimes–always pushing and pulling and steering and urging. Thousands of years, and he thinks he knows best. Only this once, Jamie is willing to admit he might be right. “And what exactly am I supposed to do until then?” He wasn’t good at being idle. More shark than wolf, really–stagnation was death. 

“Sleep,” Warlow says, leaning in and bracing his hands on either side of Jamie’s shoulders. “It’s good for you, puppy. Your body needs it.” He dips his head to kiss at Jamie’s neck, lips lingering over his thudding pulse for a second. It would be easy to sink his teeth in and let that warm blood spill across his tongue, but he restrains himself for Jamie’s sake. He needs to recover. Warlow decides to remove temptation and eases himself down next to Jamie, slipping an arm under his shoulders and pulling him against his chest. The smell of his own shampoo in Jamie’s hair is a different kind of temptation, one Warlow lets himself indulge in with deep breaths and possessive kisses. “Relax.” 

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

lorcanthropy:

Mal had had plenty of vampire friends, he wasn’t especially against them the way everyone said he should be just because he was a werewolf, but most of them didn’t come waltzing into his gym. Whether that was because it smelled of wolf or they simply didn’t see the need in working out, he didn’t know, but this one wasn’t a pure vampire, there was something different about him and he was still trying to figure it out as he came up to him. “Aye, that’s me.” 

Ah. Well, that’s a simple enough fix. Still wary, but obliging, he nods, taking his phone from his pocket. “I don’t mind. Spot’ve bad luck, that, here y’go, mate.” Unlocking it, he hands the phone to him. Mal will save his questions for after the phone call, like why he smells so good and yet so bad. “Could also give it a look-see if yeh think it’s an easy fix.”

Warlow knows that hint of perplexity well enough to recognize it when he sees it flicker across the man’s face. He knows exactly what’s wrong. He’s a walking contradiction. Fae are the embodiment of life and the living, and vampires’ lives are predicated on death. He’s been told it’s quite the odd combination. If only they knew how deeply wrong it feels to be what he is. 

“Much appreciated.” He takes the phone with a gracious nod. “But nothin’ about that truck’s easy, I’m afraid. Cantankerous old clunker.” He knows how to fix it, but he’s short the part, and it’s unlikely any auto store would be open that time of night. He dials a tow company instead (he has the number memorized, which should say everything that needs to be said about the state of his truck), only to frown when it gets the recording. “Well, shit.” 

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

scrxffed:

@macklynwarlcw || x

So he’s a bit under the weather. The full moon has a bad habit of leaving him sapped, and it doesn’t help he woke up in the middle of a damned lake. It’s still no reason for Warlow to coddle him. “I resemble that remark.” He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, grimacing when he moves too fast and the world tilts a bit. 

“You’re really not very good at listening, puppy.” He flicks him on the nose and swoops an arm under his legs, maneuvering him back onto the bed in one supernaturally quick motion. The covers following shortly, he tucks them around Jamie’s chest and leans in to kiss his head then his lips chastely. “I’m not letting you out of this bed on your own until your fever breaks, and I beg you not to test me. It wouldn’t be a very fair engagement.” 

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

"Sleep is for the weak."

“That’s quite utilitarian of you, but you need rest.” A soft smile playing across his lips, he leans down to kiss a fevered brow. “You can extol the evils of proper self-care when you’re not sick as a dog. If you’ll pardon the expression.”

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

Sharing A Bed Starters

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"I had a nightmare."

"There's plenty of room for the both of us."

"There is not enough room here for both of us."

"It's cold. We should try to conserve body heat."

"You're not even going to notice because you'll be asleep!"

"We've only got the one bed between the two of us."

"Quit stealing the covers."

"Quit kicking me."

"It's better than sleeping on the floor."

"It's either this or you sleep in the tub."

"Alright. Get up here."

"We're sleeping in the same bed, not together!"

"Please go to bed."

"Sleep is for the weak."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Dutch oven!"

"You sleep on top of the sheets."

"I'll sleep on top of the sheets."

"I'm scared. Can I sleep with you?"

"You're scared? You can come sleep with me, I guess."

"I have to sleep closer to the door."

"I can't sleep this close to the door."

"Stop getting up so early. You always wake me up."

"Stop staying up so late. I can never fall asleep."

"We can cuddle."

"Just don't try cuddling me or anything."

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

lorcanthropy:

@macklynwarlcw // Starter

It wasn’t hard to smell a vampire when he walked into a room, there was a pungent smell of death and decay that didn’t come from anything else and wasn’t strong enough for humans to be put off by it too much. Mal’s head snapped up from the paper he was reading in the corner. Say what you will about the supposed age-old feud between wolves and vampires, Mal didn’t rightly give two shites, but he’d seen enough of them with less-than-good intentions that the entrance of a vampire set him on guard.

The paper folded and sat on the desk, he walked towards him, “I help yeh, there, mate?” It was friendly, but reserved, cautious, because this one had something else about him, a scent he’d not encountered before that smelled of sunrise and life, and he was having trouble reconciling it with the fact that this man was a vampire–or part vampire or something.

Warlow knows a werewolf when he sees one, but he isn’t especially alarmed. There are all sorts in all breeds. He’s been around long enough to know that a cover doesn’t make a book, and blood is only a fraction of a person. A smile donned and dimples on display, he stepped deeper into the gym. “You the owner?” he asks with his affected southern accent. It comes naturally now.

“My truck broke down around the corner. Piece of shit.” He loves it more than he should, he who knows the fleetingness of possessions. “Seems to me this is the only place open this time of evenin’, and I was hoping I could use your phone. You mind?”

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

@lorcanthropy

“Do you mind?” He slips into the southern affectation easily. It’s the benefit of thousands of years of practice. “My car broke down out in the street, and I was hoping to use your phone.” 

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

scrxffed:

Warlow has a plan. That settles something restless in Jamie, something that needs structure and order. Warlow has a plan, and he can be in charge, because he knows what he’s doing. He knows. And he’s right, when he warns Jamie: it does hurt. But Jamie grits his teeth and breathes through the pain, because it’s necessary. Necessity can make a lot of things bearable.

He doesn’t recognize where they end up, but somehow, he knows it. It smells like Warlow, but it’s more than that. It has his touches, in the unassuming decorations and the plain-but-comfortable furniture. He sinks into the couch, head tipped against the arm and teeth gritted. Stay here. Jamie doesn’t think he could move if he wanted to. 

“Back to your place on the first date?” His voice is strained, laced more with pain than humor, but he has to make the effort. “I’m not that kind of girl.” He tries to sit up to see what Warlow is doing, but his ribs crackle and grind, and he lays back. No. No, it’s not worth it. 

Although he rarely has much use for them, Warlow keeps first aid supplies on hand. The millennia have taught him that it’s better to be over-prepared than under, and he takes a moment to be thankful for his own precautions.

He returns to Jamie with the kit tucked under his arm in time to see him fail to sit up. It feels like someone ramming a knife between his ribs and twisting. Someone did this to Jamie. He might not remember, but Warlow will find them. He will find them, and he will tear them apart. His fae and vampire halves are in concert, at least on this. They will make the ones responsible pay. 

He forces a smile and kneels in front of the couch. “I wouldn’t dare presume. We can call these extenuating circumstances. Though.” He pulls at the collar of Jamie’s jacket, which doesn’t really seem like Jamie’s. “You will have to part with these. May I?” He doesn’t want to do too much or go too fast. He senses the tensions rippling under Jamie’s skin and doesn’t want to push him. “If you think you could tolerate it, a bath might be the fastest way to get this off you. You’re a bit ripe.” 

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

dominxsus:

“The better to eat you with, little one.”

“Bigger bads than you have tried, mate. But I admire your confidence.”

He moves forward with surety and squared shoulders. 

“Just don’t let that confidence become arrogance. One, I quite like. The other might get you killed.” 

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

scrxffed:

It still feels like condescension. Jamie feels … meager, somehow. In the face of someone so timeless, so strong, so sure of every piece of himself, Jamie feels so pathetically outclassed that it hurts. But at the same time, it’s almost a relief. The wolf, still so close to the surface after the night before, yearns for a surer hand. An alpha, even if the man in front of him is everything but wolf. 

“Less of the puppy,” he mutters finally, letting his weight settle against Warlow’s hand. He trusts him not to let him fall. He came all this way for a phone call. It’s hard not to trust someone after that, even if his nerves are frayed to their breaking point. 

“I don’t know what happened. I woke up … I woke up like this, and I–” 

His throat feels tighter. He doesn’t like not knowing, not having the answers. He doesn’t like being unsure. It feels too vulnerable, and he’s worked too hard to shore up his defenses to have them all brought to ruins by a soft smile and a strong hand. 

Warlow tries to avoid wolves where he can. At best, they’re volatile creatures, and at worse, they’re vicious mongrels. However, Warlow understands what it’s like to be at war with one’s own nature, as Jamie most definitely is. He fights with the wolf the way Warlow fights with the bloodlust. He wants to be something better, but he’s betrayed by his own anatomy. 

He cups his hand under Jamie’s jaw. “Shh, look at me. Focus on me.” His thumb strokes along a line of fresh, slick blood, and he feels his canines ache. “I’m going to take you somewhere safe. Get you cleaned up and looked after, then we can figure out what happened.”

Warlow thinks in hierarchies, in orders of importance. Right now, making sure Jamie’s alright is at the top of that list. He can find the ones responsible once Jamie is resting comfortably, and he’ll inflict every harm on them tenfold.

“This will hurt,” he warns before scooping Jamie up. A portal opens in front of them and he steps through it into the fae realm, where the bloodlust softens and his head starts to clear. Out the other side, he is in his apartment, and he eases Jamie onto the couch. “Stay here.”

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

scrxffed:

Jamie would laugh, if he wasn’t a little hoarse. “Ah, the B.C.E. sensibilities strike again.” He shakes his head, but he isn’t going to put up a fight. If Warlow wants to wait on him a little, then far be it from Jamie to turn him down. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a sore and tired, anyway. Still. “I wonder what else I could negotiate out of you.” His eyes flash mischievously. 

“You’re quite cute when you’re devious. What did you have in mind?” He hasn’t let go of Jamie’s shirt yet, not willing to allow him to stray too far from his grasp. The blood forms a bond, especially when shared so intimately, and Warlow feels drawn to Jamie now more than ever. “I’ll warn you it probably won’t be much of a challenge. I’m feeling very . . . magnanimous just now.”

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

@dominxsus

“My, grandma, what big teeth you have.” 

[hoohonganddick]

Rob Kazinsky - Brothers & Sisters

[iamallmonsters-blog]

my new favorite Trueblood moment,

i’m so over Godric

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

scrxffed:

@macklynwarlcw from x

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a worrywart?” Sure, he feels a little lightheaded, and his legs feel like well-cooked noodles. But a little great sex and some consensual blood-draining isn’t going to give him the damn vapors. “I’m not an invalid. I can get my own orange juice.” 

“I get the orange juice. That’s how this works, love.” Warlow is well aware that a lot of his manners are outdated, he just doesn’t care. He bedded Jamie. He drank from him. Jamie’s still wearing Warlow’s scent like a brand so the least Warlow could do is get up and get him a glass of orange juice. “If you’d be patient, you could even negotiate a proper breakfast out of me.”

[macklynwarlcw-blog]

“Sorry, were you sleeping?”

“I was.” Warlow pads closer on his bare feet until he can reach out and pull Jamie closer by the front of his shirt. Once he’s close enough, Warlow trails a hand up to his neck where pinpricks circled with bruises sit on his pale skin. “Come back to bed, pooch. Don’t want you passing out in the kitchen from hypovolemia.” 

[likethcrns-moved-blog-deactivat]

kilgravesjessica:

Four Word . Prompts

“Please, come with me.”

“You’re always number one.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Just kiss me already.” 

“I won’t let you.”

“Maybe I’m just crazy.”

“I’m not even sorry.”

“Honestly, just stop it.”

“I believe in you.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“Who were you with?”

“Please talk to me.”

“I can’t trust you.”

“I need you, though.”

“Don’t be fucking rude.”

“Is that my shirt?”

“So, it was you.”

“I need to go.”

“Just stay with me.”

“You can trust me.”

“Alright, I love you.”

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“Will you help me?”

“You’re a terrible cook.”

“Can you shut up!?”

“You love me, right?”

“I really need you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“You don’t want me.”

“Let me help you.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“You think you’re funny?”

“Hey, I said stop!”

“Will you marry me?”

“Wanna go out sometime?”

“I don’t want this.”

“You always this quiet?”

“Are you fucking insane!?”

“I don’t want you.”

“I’m not wearing that.”

“Sorry, were you sleeping?”

“This was never right.”

“You look really tired.”

“I’m out of here.”

“You need to go.”