#|| D'Ablo; IC

[diviinitatis]

"I miss you my friend. I wish I can steal you away from the world, D'Ablo and have you in my arms at all times, as I stroke your long gorgeous hair and tell you how annoyingly cute you are."

What was that? It sounded serious, but murmured so low in Ulysses' deep rumble, it was nigh-incomprehensible. He caught steal and he caught cute, and then something about his hair. You need to speak up, darling. I have good hearing, yes, but only if you enunciate.

#ask #deepseawarlock #|| d'ablo; ic #uly what's this a confession???

[itwill-comeback]

Art by Caliibee ✍️

#for all the times Vlad wakes up and animorphed D'Ablo is just in his house #its not canon but we can pretend #art by caliibee #the chronicles of vladimir tod #vladimir tod #chronicles of vladimir tod #memes #a vlad mood #covt memes #ik i haven't made many good memes recently im trying to do better mb #yes vlad has blood ice pops in his freezer yes he gets 1 am cravings for them just like every other sensible vampire #also i did some gymnastics to get that little vampire smile on that sweater bcuz i couldn't find a transparent version anywhere??? ugh

[mahlyenki-dyavol]

@diviinitatis​ 

Ever since Vlad had woken up the morning after Halloween, he just… couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. So very, very wrong.

It wasn’t until he’d found the journal, his journal if the writing on the cover was right, that everything clicked into place. Well, not everything.

But it was enough.

And Vlad was determined to fix things, to ensure that this time, things went better. That people didn’t die.

And that his father would pay for everything he did to Vlad’s mom.

But he knew he couldn’t just run off and search the world for his dad, he just didn’t have the money for that. Heck, he had needed to save up weeks worth of allowance to make sure he could have enough to get a cab to and from Stokerton.

So, he’d looked to some other place to start. At the beginning.

D’Ablo.

The vampire that had started it all for Vlad. Who had done everything he could to make Vlad’s life a living hell.

And his options were clear, even if he didn’t exactly like them.

He either needed to convince D'Ablo to join his side, or he’d need to kill him.

Just the thought still left him ill.

He hopped that the latter would be the outcome, but he needed to be ready for the worst.

Before leaving, Vlad had grabbed the lucis, the ultimate weapon against vampire kind.

Then, he left for Stokerton, for the council building.

Once inside, he kept his head down, hoping not to be spotted and recognized before finding D’Ablo and getting a chance to talk.

Surprisingly, he managed to find the president, and things didn’t seem to be all that busy.

Vlad took a deep breathe, no turning back.

He needed to do this.

“excuse me, Mr. D’Ablo, I need to talk to you.” Vlad swallowed “about Tomas.” 

#Blissfully Ignorant (IC) #V: Hard Reset #Diviinitatis #D'Ablo

[voxvulgi]

@diviinitas​ (cont. from x)

I never say no to coffee. Unless it consists of more milk than coffee. He likes his coffee with just one spoonful of sugar, and has no problems taking it black. Anything else and he doesn’t like it. If the detective tops her coffee with whipped cream, then that will be the real crime.

I assume you have questions and that this isn’t a friendly coffee run. He’s told her nothing but truths so far, but police have a way of getting you to tell lies—what they want to hear—just to get them off your back. D’Ablo would know. He’s been on the giving and receiving end of such questioning many times. If you’re going to try to get me to admit to the murder, I can already tell you that it won’t work.

Did this man seriously think Dawn was inviting him to grab a coffee and sit down somewhere and chat? “Coffee run” didn’t mean they were going to hang out; it meant they would stop by a coffee place on the way to the station, grab a window order, then get to their destination ASAP. Dawn had an extra chair by her desk that she bet was dying for a butt to warm it.

She ignored his smart mouth, proceeding to do just what she said she’d do. She stopped the car by the window, ordered a latte, then turned to D’Ablo and said, “Let me guess; black like your soul?” She reached across to his side, fumbling in the glove compartment for her wallet. She didn’t really want to spend any of her barely sufficient salary on a suspicious guy’s coffee, but splitting the bill for coffees was just fucking lame. Especially if he did order a black.

#;; a postponed reading [QUEUE] #ic. dawn #thread. d'ablo&dawn #v. *annoying voice* detective #diviinitas

[diviinitas-moved]

My neighbor-- he’s a bit of conspiracy theorist, and he’s convinced that I’m not human, which, he’s not wrong, but he always misses the mark. Last week he guessed that I am a selkie. Why? Because he’s never seen me without a coat and he thinks I’ve glamoured my selkie coat into looking like a regular coat. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I am just very cold all the time.

#;; the President Speaks ( IC ) #;; open #this has been hopping around my head all day and i'm wondering if it's the return of d'ablo's bitch-ass muse #so!!!! this is open!!!! mutuals it's all yours!!!!

[diviinitatis]

@mahlyenki-dyavol / x

Somehow, the boy's utter lack of concern made D'Ablo's mood even worse. He had to bite it down, though-- he was no longer in the position where he could blow up at someone and be, by default, the one in the right.

What are you studying? he asked instead. He hated playing nice--truly, deeply, hated it--but with his power stripped from him, he had to return to his roots: feign helpfulness to the boy-god, and then cuss him out in the privacy of his own home.

And part of him, as much as he hated it, was interested in the topics taught in universities today, though he doubted someone as dimwitted as Vladimir would be studying anything particularly intensive.

I can point you to some good books on the subject, he continued to explain. I know this library like-- like the back of my own hand, he stopped himself from saying. It was a bit too on the nose. I know it very well.

#making a new post to use the new editor #|| d'ablo; ic #mahlyenkidyavol #|| D'Ablo; Verse 001 ( POST CANON )

[diviinitatis]

"Don't open the door, D'ablo. I'm begging you to listen to me for once!" Her voice is strained and there is a strong scent of blood coming from her bedroom. "LEAVE."

He might have listened if it weren't for the stench of her blood mixed in with another scent he didn't recognize. The latter was enough cause for concern-- Gemina didn't like getting her hands dirty if she could help it. The former, though, that she was injured, bad enough for him to be able to smell her blood through the closed door . . .

The wood didn't stand a chance. Several viscious cracks and the door lied in splinters before him. He stepped over the debris, kicking some large splinters out of the way. Vaguely, he noted that he'd kicked the door out of its frame, and it hadn't been locked in the first place.

A thought that was quickly banished at the sight of her bruised, bloodied, pale and trembling, on her bed.

He was in front of her before she could blink, gently tugging the cloth out of her grip. Mina. His voice was a low rumble from deep within his chest. What happened?

Who did this to you?

Where are they?

They will pay.

#|| D'Ablo; IC #the last part being in bigger font is on purpose #merchantofwhispers

[diviinitatis]

@deepseawarlock / x

D'Ablo huffed, continuing to comb his fingers through Ulysses' hair. Like I said, I'm doing a favor to my nose. You reek. And maybe, D'Ablo knew a thing or two about how miserable it was to be unable to take care of yourself. It didn't happen often--he was stubborn enough to push through most any injury--but it did happen. When it did he was usually confined to a hospital, supervised and controlled and very, very, bored.

At least Ulysses had the privilege of marinating in his own home, with a beautiful nurse, albeit with horrid bedside manner.

What happened to you? His fingers, now rinsed from excess conditioner, scratched into Ulysses' scalp. He liked keeping his hands busy, and the product would need time to absorb into the man's hair to give its full effect. Who could have injured the oh-so-powerful warlock of the seas like this? Careful emphasis on oh-so-powerful underlined obvious sarcasm.

At Ulysses' question, though, he scoffed. What I do for my hair is much more intensive than this. A wash day was just that, a whole day (night) of tending to his hair, making sure it was smooth, that split ends were trimmed, that the integrity of his curls was maintained. It was a calming ritual, but the longer his hair grew, the more involved it became. Though, yes, I am transferring some of the techniques. Nothing complicated.

After a couple of more minutes, he decided the conditioner had done its work. Warm water trickled over Ulysses' head as D'Ablo worked the product out of his hair, and finally, they were done. Wordlessly, D'Ablo reached into the tub and pulled the plug. A whirlpool formed where the water drained.

I'm not here to humiliate you, he said, dragging a towel over Ulysses' shoulders and beginning to collect the drops that still clung to his skin. He worked his way lower, smoothing over a defined chest and toned stomach, pausing only briefly before dipping between his legs to swiftly dry him off, then running the towel down his thighs. His lower legs and feet could dry on their own.

Alright. D'Ablo leaned back, getting to his feet and hooking his arms underneath Ulysses'. I'll carry you to the bed.

With a strength belied by his waif-like body, D'Ablo hauled him up, out of the tub, chest pressed into Ulysses' limp back, and dragged him across the cabin. Dropping him into the bed was only slightly less rough-- he eased him down most of the way, then dropped him the rest.

#|| D'Ablo; IC #lmfao this got long you don't need to match!!!! #deepseawarlock

[diviinitatis]

@merchantofwhispers / x

With a scoff, D'Ablo leaned away, out of reach of her lips and out of her grip, her nails dragging along his skin, only brushing against his chin as he straightened his back.

Seems to me you're all talk, Mina. He could call her Madame, but where was the fun if it wasn't forced out of him? With a final gentle pat to her cheek, he turned away, making sure it was with just enough force for a braid to lightly smack in her face.

#|| D'Ablo; IC #mina: this misbehavior stops today #d'ablo: or will it. #merchantofwhispers

[diviinitatis]

@deepseawarlock / x

The amethyst had a heady weight in his hand and the ridges pressed cooly into his palm. For all his drunken carelessness, he moved slowly with the gem, holding it up to his face, eyes wide in child-like wonder. It was rare for him to be so earnest, but the warm headiness of this cabin and the alcohol coursing through his veins made him feel . . . safe?

What a thought. By all means, he wasn’t safe in the same room as the creature who nearly drowned him. Yet, in this den, with a gem cradled in his hands and Ulysses scurrying around casting gods-knew-what-spells, D’Ablo knew he could relax.

At least until Ulysses tried to poison him. D’Ablo lowered the geode to wrinkle his nose at the concoction, then pointedly turned away, rock still in hand, to throw himself onto a plush sofa.

Then, for good measure, he said, I’m not drinking that shit.

Satisfied that he’d made his point, he stretched out like a happy cat, arms above his head. The geode teetered dangerously in his grip, threatening to plummet and crack a dent into his skull, but he lowered his arms before that could happen. Tucking it into his chest, D’Ablo drew his knees up to his chin and finally watched Ulysses through half-lidded eyes.

Wouldn’t you like to know. Fortunately for Ulysses, he was happy to share. I don’t need a reason to drink. Been told I’m sick. Have a bit of an alcohol problem. Apparently. He rolled his eyes, conveying how stupid that notion was. Which I don’t. Have a problem. With narrowed eyes, he leaned forward. I didn’t follow you. I tracked you. I’m a good tracker. I don’t get the chance to do it often, but I am. He ran his tongue over his teeth. Why do you care if someone hurt me?

#|| D'Ablo; IC #''i don't have a problem with alcohol'' d'ablo when he lies #deepseawarlock

[diviinitatis]

"So you're my new brother-in-law." The voice came from the top of the steps where a man with white-blonde hair stood with a glass of wine in hand, peering down at D'ablo with an all-too-similar grin. "Minny has told me so much about you, so has Cin actually. All good things mostly." (I offer Nikolai harassing D'ablo when Mina isnt home - yes i am calling a retcon)

D'Ablo's first thought was that he didn't like being looked down upon. The young man had chosen this angle strategically-- it told him much about whom he was dealing with.

All good things, mostly.

Strategic, and a liar to boot. He'd be surprised if Cinead had anything halfway "good" to say about him.

He flicked off his phone and swept up the stairs, eyes never leaving the vampire at the top. When they were level, he held out his hand to shake.

D'Ablo della Vega. He didn't include his titles, doubting that it'd mean much to him. You must be Nikolai. I was wondering when I'd meet you, but I figured it'd happen sooner rather than later.

He wondered how much more of Mina's family he was missing.

#|| D'Ablo; IC

[diviinitatis]

"You look magnificent, ethereal- are you some sort of Fae?"

Some sort of-- fae. Not fairy. If it were "fairy" that came out of the man's mouth, D'Ablo might have knocked out his teeth. He'd been called worse, of course, but he was always happy to put bigots in their place.

No, no. He gestured to his ears-- rounded and a normal size. Vampire. Which had nothing to do with how he looked, really, except for the pallor of his skin. The only blessing his parents had given him were his looks. Thank you, though. Very kind. His eyes roved over the man before him, appreciative. You're fae, then?

#mav: genuine curiosity #d'ablo: so you were about to call me a slur #|| D'Ablo; IC #darkhearthorns

[diviinitatis]

"Not sure, I didn't think I'd get this far," he hummed in contemplation. Part of him thought this was D'Ablo's conniving method of getting him to beg, which is technically achieved when Ulysses would spell it out for him. But his need for affection trumps everything, even his ego, when he slid onto the vampire's lap. He straddled and leaned forward with his head slightly tilted away.

"Soft neck kisses. That is what I really want."

Ha. D'Ablo lifted the book in his lap to hide his smile and to make room for Ulysses. Paradise Lost could wait. The beautiful man in his lap and the pulse jumping beneath his skin were more pressing matters.

Was that so hard? he teased, hands coming up to rest on Ulysses' hips, gently holding him in place. He pressed his lips to the delicate skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder and inhaled the scent of seasalt in the blood running under pale flesh. Another, drawing closer to his neck, lips parted slightly. Another, closer still.

Like that?

#|| D'Ablo; IC #iincantatorum

[diviinitatis]

Now that I think about it, my first crush was most likely the oddly muscular crucified Jesus hanging in my childhood church.

#as per the last rb #and his style icon is st sebastian #|| D'Ablo; IC #i've given up on fidning rp icons idc

[diviinitatis]

@iincantatorum​ / x

D’Ablo was the one who suggested a walk to begin the gradual increase Ulysses’ strength after his long paralysis. It hadn’t taken as big a toll on him as D’Ablo expected-- maybe it was his being a warlock that staved off some major muscle atrophy--but he was still weakened. 

The walk turned into a jog through the woods-- Ulysses was in better shape than D’Ablo realized, and soon, they were playing a game of keep-away, D’Ablo always dancing just ahead of him, but never using his vampire speed. If he did, he’d really leave Ulysses in the dust, but tonight, that wasn’t the point.

And if he let Ulysses catch him, who was going to call him out?

One large hand rested on his hip, holding it still, as the other manhandled him until his chest was pressed against the tree. D’Ablo dug his fingers into the rough bark, gazing at Ulysses over his shoulder as his knees were nudged apart. He was allowing himself to be pushed around and pinned, but that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for him.

I don’t know, he breathed, locking eyes with him. That sounds like an order. I don’t take those.

He did, with some pushing. Ulysses had to find that out himself.

#iincantatorum #|| D'Ablo; IC #nsft

[diviinitatis]

"D'Ablo, I saw what you and Ulysses were doing in the forest..." 👀

Was he supposed to feel any type of way about this? The way the comment was asked made him think they were expecting something-- a bad reaction, maybe. If that was case, D'Ablo was sorry to disappoint (he wasn't). He calmly took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke slowly, the cloud dissipating in the air.

Alright? You're welcome, I suppose.

@iincantatorum

#|| D'Ablo; IC #0 fucks given. 10/10 would do again