Send me âKissâ Plus a body part and my Muse will react to yours kissing them there
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we're not kids anymore.
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@ashendrifter
Send me âKissâ Plus a body part and my Muse will react to yours kissing them there
Can be SFW or NSFW

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seven minutes || Darius + Logan
Footsteps echo in the Dominion.
Itâs an eerie thing, hearing the mausoleum-like silence hanging heavily over the large building. Folders tucked under an arm, the vampire doesnât spare a glance towards the row of clerks or to the poor secretaries busily typing away. No longer is there a limp in his step and his wounds are the last thing on his mind.
Instead thereâs something that gives him pause.
A brief knock is given to the Kingâs heavy door and he checks the watch at his wrist. Five minutes. Plenty of time to wait, he muses, standing to the side and waiting with both folders and hands at the small of his back. Only when heâs summoned does he dare venture inside and lets the door close behind him.
âSir.â
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And what can I do for you, guard-whatever-your-name-is.
âDe Wright,â he corrects, handing the boy a stack of folders. âFinch didnât come in for his review. Make sure he gets these.â
After the âtalkâ with Peter, thereâs a tension in his shoulders that spreads through the whole of his body. David is with a friend, some girl, and he doesnât have the heart to drag him back home when he knows soon heâll have to send him away for a short time. Kicking up the hornetâs nest did that at times but he could scarcely regret his decisions.
Instead he loaded up his rifle and headed out to the only range in Covaire. It wouldnât do if his aim got rusty and practice could only help. With how his shoulder ached, it was likely needed. Paying his due, Logan sets up, feeling the quiver in his hands begin to ebb away as calmness settled throughout. Cold metal was relaxing in his gloved hands as he prepared his weapon, slid the bullet into the barrel, and pulled the bolt back.
Footsteps interrupt his concentration only briefly as the trigger guard is slid out of the way. Logan is apathetic to whomever deigned it wise to come join him as this is his world. Violence. Cold calculating death from on high. A slow breath slides free as he looks down the sight and pulls the trigger.
The gunshot echoes out and he looks away only to grab another bullet to slide into the chamber. Logan flicks the bolt handle up and slips the fresh round into place. Itâs practiced and smooth, the familiarity steadying as words slip free with his exhale.
âIs there something I can help you with?â
The next shot rings out.
scar tissue || Peter + Logan
Peter wondered if Loganâs words were meant to wound. The doctors that looked at him before his trial called him delusional and âstuck in a childlike stateâ. Of course Peter was broken, at the age of nine he murdered his baby brother without guilt or remorse.Logan was just repeating what everyone had said to him since his first kill.Â
The blade in his arm was cold as the blood that leaked form the wound. Peter still smiled up at the other guard, âYou empathized with someone who isnât capable of empathyâŚYour pity and cares mean little to me, LoganâŚPerhaps next time you should put such useless emotions in someone elseâŚâ
Another cold laugh came out of the younger vampire. âOh my oh myâŚThe toy thinks heâs figure it outâ He taunted Logan. Everything in Peterâs mind made a switch. All the urges he had done well to hold back were finally going to be let go. âWeâre all hollowâŚSo very hollowâŚâ Peterâs voice was quiet and childlike, but the look on his face was twisted and crazed. ââŚIâm going to kill youâŚâ
He embraced the darkness that came when his neck snapped. He would let Logan win this one, but Peter wouldnât let it happen again.
There was more to Peter than merely being broken. Something about the way the kidâs words came out made Logan far from daunted and instead curious. What switch had been flipped permanently to keep the emotion out, to keep humanity from touching the kid? What Logan wondered, truly, was what happened to drive Peter to becoming a killer with no dimensions and enough charm to drown a frat house.
The taunt goes unanswered and a terse breath slips free.
Peter could try, heâd no doubt be hellbent upon seeing Logan dead now and perhaps itâd be smarter to put the rabid dog down so to speak. Instead he looks at Peter with softening features and lays the the kidâs head gently upon the tiles. Logan was wrong, Peter wasnât broken, no, he was just missing something and now heâd never have it again.
Like a record on repeat skipping over the beautiful crescendo each time.
Smoothing back hair from Peterâs face, he shakes his head and rises to his feet drawing his blade free with a quick yank. Cleaning it on Peterâs shirt, Logan turns, sheathes his weapon and grabs his whiskey. There was an itch in his veins, a question without an answer and Peter hadnât helped him find it.
âGood talk, kid.â
Jacket over his shoulder, he leaves Peterâs house and lets the door click softly behind himself. This time, Logan doesnât look back. Thereâs no point after all. Now he knows the truth as he revs his bike to life.
The house is empty.

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lawful neutral
Lawful Neutral is called the âJudgeâ or âDisciplinedâ alignment. A Lawful Neutral character typically believes strongly in Lawful concepts such as honor, order, rules and tradition, and often follows a personal code. A Lawful Neutral society would typically enforce strict laws to maintain social order, and place a high value on traditions and historical precedent. Examples of Lawful Neutral characters might include a soldier who always follows orders, a judge or enforcer that adheres mercilessly to the word of the law, and a disciplined monk.Characters of this alignment are neutral with regard to good and evil. This does not mean that Lawful Neutral characters are amoral or immoral, or do not have a moral compass, but simply that their moral considerations come a distant second to what their code, tradition, or law dictates. They typically have a strong ethical code, but it is primarily guided by their system of belief, not by a commitment to good or evil. Lawful neutral is the best alignment you can be because it means you are reliable and honorable without being a zealot. Lawful neutral can be a dangerous alignment because it seeks to eliminate all freedom, choice, and diversity in society.
TRAIT STRUCTURE
friendly.Â
reliable.Â
responsible.Â
truthful.Â
orderly.Â
loyal.Â
respectful of authority.Â
regular.Â
structured.Â
rigid.Â
neat.Â
methodical.Â
precise.
scar tissue || Peter + Logan
Peter zoned out, his mind still stuck on the idea of killing both Logan and his slave. It would be such a spectacle. A public execution that would last for hours. He already knew drowning Logan was out of the question, for Vampires didnât need to breatheâŚBut his slave did.Â
How much fun it would be to watch the other guard fight to save his dying slave. That was something Peter never understood. So many masters and mistresses falling for their slaves, holding them close as if they were more than just a toy. Although he liked his slave, he doubted he would feel any remorse if she died.Â
Peter came back to reality and looked up at Logan with bored eyes. The hand gripping him through his pants unfazed him. Sexual desire unfazed him. Peter just laughed, âYou think Iâm some common killer who gets off on death? Thatâs disgustingâ He barked out a laugh again, this one coming out more crazed than the last. âDoes this get you off, Logan? Playing with death? Because you know the second you let go of me, I will kill youâŚDoes it thrill you. Such a sad little toyâŚSo eager to play with deathâŚbut you only get to play with death onceâ.
âItâs amusing you know,â Logan speaks gently, fingers digging in harder at vulnerable flesh caught in his grip. âYou call everyone toys, kid, when out of everyone youâre the most broken.â Itâd suit Peter. Being ripped apart piece by piece. Logan scoffs out a laugh then at those words, tickled to the point of giving a hint of a smirk. âNo, a child screaming in the dark is no more arousing than you are.â
Empty promises fill the air as Loganâs hand instead goes to his thigh, drawing a blade and moving too fast, too quick. Bones shatters and gives at Peterâs wrist as he drives the metal through the younger vampireâs arm to hold him in place. âHow sad it is, knowing part of me pitied you, cared for you, and thought there was something desirable underneath the glass eyes,â Logan hums out softly, watching Peter idly before next his bloodied fingers smooth along the boyâs chest.
âOnce I mightâve gotten off on this, on being with you.â His gaze hardens to a point and his smile is cold as fingers gently cradle Peterâs head. âBut thatâs it, isnât it? Youâre empty. Hollow. Thereâs nothing inside of you, is there?â His grip tightens and he lets out a soft whisper of a laugh.
âYouâre just an empty boy.â
The sickening cracking of Peterâs neck is almost too satisfying.
scar tissue || Peter + Logan
If Peter hadnât made it a habit of breaking the bones of all his toys, the sound of his arm snapping would have shocked him. The pain was there, then it was gone. Not long enough for Peter to care. As he fell back, his fangs dropped down on instinct, but he made no move. All the guard did was stare at his broken arm. It was so limp and lifeless and would take a few minutes to heal.Â
The hand on his throat made Peter focus his attention on the vampire on top of him. He wondered what would happen if he did end up killing Logan. Maybe he could fill his body with cement and then drop him into a lake. Peter flexed his neck, knowing that being choked was a useless tactic.Â
âYouâre not specialâŚMy hatred for you is the same as the hatred I have for everyone here. All of you toys marching one by one, playing house in this giant doll house we call Covaire. How sadâŚâ
He looked up at Logan with dark eyes and grinned, âWhen I kill youâŚshould I tie your slave to your dead body and use it as an anchor? Iâm sure youâll weigh the human downâŚCould you imagine that?âŚSeeing your slave sink into that cold darknessâŚHis body convulsing as it struggles for air. Water filling his lungs as death finally takes himâŚâ
The first thing that escapes him is a sharp laugh.
There should be rage, should be unbridled fury, and instead there is cold, callous, examination of the man before him. Threats like those only hold weight if Peter is taken seriously. But heâs heard them before. Heâs had his heart threatened time and time again as if it were an open wound to stick grubby fingers in.
Briefly he, like Peter, toys with killing the arrogant boy. He thinks of howâd heâd rip him apart piece by piece and then kill the arrogant childâs slave slowly right where Peter could watch in his broken mess. Another laugh slips free as he bends his head meeting Peterâs gaze evenly, âI canât help but think some part of you gets off on it. Death. Drowning them.â
As if to check his point, fingers curl between their bodies, grasping Peterâs cock through the fabric of his pants. Loganâs grin turns malicious as he chuckles darkly and murmurs, âWould she even notice if I ripped this off? I doubt youâve had the courage to use it except with your hand.â It doesnât take long for his face to heal, for the wounds to knit slowly together and bones to rearrange themselves upon his face.
âPerhaps I ought to put your table to use.â
âI know I shouldnât haveâŚâ
Evan half muttered, his eyes moving around to the people beginning to gather from sheer curiosity. Sometimes he forgot where he was and the dangers of it. A soft gasp left him, more from surprise than anything, as fingers gripped around his arm. His gaze moved back to his savior, both relief and confusion in his eyes.
âI didnât mean to cause any trouble. Honestly.â
âYou shouldnât have,â Logan agrees as he continues to half-drag, half-guide the slave out of the hallway. Thereâs a terse breath that hisses free as he turns the corner and changes his grip. Now his arm is around the slaveâs waist and no one thinks to cast them a second look even as questions of what happened flutters up behind them. The alleyway is blissfully rancid so finding a scent is next to impossible.
âNo trouble at all.â
Circling around the block takes longer than he thought and here they are, two strangers caught together. Logan casts a sidelong glance to the other man. âIâŚhave a slave,â itâs awkward of course but the vampire continues speaking quietly. âHeâd appreciate the company.â
scar tissue || Peter + Logan
âBecoming a vampire only made me immortal and hungryâŚI still have the life I had before. I can still live as I have beforeâŚI do not cling to it, because I know I will never lose itâ Peterâs movements were slow compared to Loganâs. With every step forward the other guard made, Peter matched it. Being a young vampire who still looked like a teenager made it easy for older vampires to tread over him. That alone created a hatred in Peter. He saw most movements towards him as threats, even if they werenât intended to be such things.Â
âEarlier you said Benedict and Leopold donât take me seriouslyâŚYet, I feel as though youâre the one who doesnât take me seriously. I keep all of my threats and promises, Logan. You will not give me control, because the moment you stepped into my home, I had already taken itâ
Peter moved behind Logan and stared at the decor on his wall. ââŚYour voice annoys meâ The guard grabbed the back of the older vampireâs head and smashed it against his wall.Â
If only, if only.
The promise of violence makes his veins sing white hot, eyes lost as inky blackness overtakes them. The feeling of the wall against his face is unpleasant, pain erupting in his senses. Logan twists then, gripping the younger vampireâs wrist and kicking out as he twisted with vicious intent. When bone snaps, Peterâs arm hanging at an odd angle in his grasp, Logan lets go and settles himself atop the otherâs fallen form with a calm hand at Peterâs good arm.
Fanged teeth twist in a feral smile, his eyes lidded and heavy as blood oozes thickly down his features.
âAnd your attitude annoys me,â Logan counters easily, looking down at the boy so full of rage and hatred. A part of him pitied him, remembering finding Peter broken and twisted up in a bloodied mess within a cage. No one had come for him. No one but Logan.
âWhat have I done to earn such fire?â How soft, hushed, his words are. A startling contrast as fingers curl around Peterâs throat, digging into tender flesh as something dark and hungry flickers across his features. That new little voice, cold, predatory, is whispering at the back of his mind.
Just kill him, devour him whole, it bades with silken promise.
His grip eases, if only to satisfy his curiosity, to hear what Peter has to say from where heâs straddled atop him all but prepared to rip him apart.

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Ash and Fire || Logan & Baelfire [Closed]
They really were fucking good at playing their part in the city. And now whatever the vamp had showed him, he felt like Logan was trying to take back as if Baelfire wouldâve hurt him on purpose. He just didnât know where they stood anymore. And pretending to be unaffected was pointless the vamp knew he cared. Probably not like he would have back then, but he still cared.
But he only had himself to blame reallyâ whoâd be stupid enough to think that getting what you wanted in Covaire wouldnât come with a price?
He wasnât a fucking 2 years old, he knew where Logan would be looking. Baelfire wore that bracelet happily and always made sure it wasnât hidden by his clothes.
"Guard de Wright." he replied sounding still shaken by their last meetingâ and he fucking was.
Truthfully, Logan was uncertain where they stood either or how to go about turmoil beneath the masks they wore. He cared, god did he care to the point of suffocating madness, and it was dangerous. But there was one truth, one common thread that he carried with the knowledge that nothing would change how Kennedy had stained Baelfire so entirely, claiming him before the wolf knew. In the end, no matter how buried it was, the truth remained that Logan would do anything if Baelfire merely asked.
Dangerous truth in a dangerous city.
The wolf had what he wanted and soon Kennedy would come for his head. It was the simple facts if his intentions, his affections, became known. Brows knit together, eyes lingering upon silver only a moment longer before he met the otherâs gaze quietly.
âIâd like a word.â
Charles took the same route home every day, it seemed the least circuitous way, and of the ways heâd tried, the safest, the one least filled with other people. When he saw the form in front of him, he was not deterred and continued walking his course. He was beginning to get hungry, and he knew Arthur and Amelia would want to eat, perhaps his daughter had already started cooking.
He stopped, however, when the other man did. Politely, he spoke, âNo. I am walking to my home, it happens to be in this direction. I apologize for any discomfort on my part for walking behind you.â
Stilted words, clean suit, and manners that no human should rightfully hold. Logan examines the man quickly, putting two and two together from the clean concise reports from their unofficial morgue at a house belonging to a Doctor Charles Pike.
Seems he was able to finally put a face to the name.
Straightening upright, Logan raises a brow and then casts a side-long glance down the manâs intended path with a huff of veiled amusement. âItâs a long walk, why not use a slave?â Typical mindset of a typical denizen of Covaire. Logan might recoil at the thought but others may not. While this one was a civilian at best, heâd heard rumors that the doctor had both the Alpha and the Kingâs ear. Letting anything slip free would hardly bode well in the end.
âNo apologies needed.â
scar tissue || Peter + Logan
âCareful, Logan. Iâm not above punching you in the face and throwing you at your bikeâ.
Peter wanted nothing more than to rip out the other guardâs tongue. Maybe if he was lucky he could talk his slave into ripping apart the other vampire. They could hide the body if they tried hard enough. He scowled at the pat on his cheek and moved aside when Logan walked into his home,
The guard slammed the door and turned to face his co-worker. âI donât drinkâŚâ As soon as Loganâs gaze moved, Peter moved too, blocking the way to the stairs. âPlay? I assure you, weâre far past playing, Logan. I donât let others into my home, especially when they arenât invitedâŚâ
He narrowed his eyes at Logan.Â
âProvoking me is not wiseâ.
âIâd forgotten what a sweet talker you are.â
But the words are an afterthought, a mere hum of sorts as he takes in small details. Pictures hang oddly upon the walls as though they donât belong yet were put there to cover the history of something before. The flowers he can smell are more befitting a woman, someone in the early twenties, and the ill-tempered plot of his demise is something Logan accounts for in the same breath. âLilies and daffodils, you have good taste,â the older of the two hums out quietly before taking in the barrier of Peterâs body.
Raising his hands as if to surrender, thereâs a brief smile offered. âYou cling to ideals of a life you no longer have. To kill a certain way, to live a certain way,â a step closer is taken as his hands fall slowly back towards his sides. âIn a city like this, I dislike you least of all, Peter. But donât make threats we both know you canât keep. Iâm here to give you control, not threaten it.â Just like that though, Logan smiles and gives a wink before turning away from the stairs and the slave hidden away upstairs. Instead he examines the nearest painting upon the wall and folds his hands at the small of his back.
âTake it as a provocation and tell me to leave or take it as an invitation and order me to stay. Your choice.â
Evan nods quickly. He does consider himself lucky, very much so. Itâs lucky that he wasnât truly alone, that someone capable of keeping him safe had been nearby in that moment. His teeth ran over his bottom lip gently.
âNobody. Iâm unclaimed.â
âUnclaimed and youâre wandering aboutâŚâ
The vampire wants to be angry but the brief scuffle however painful to his still healing wounds was satisfying. A small crowd begins to form at the mouth of the alleyway, their whispers carrying off the filthy brick walls. Logan closes the distance between them, grabbing the humanâs arm and drawing him close.
âFine,â he mutters. âYouâll stay with me tonight.â

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scar tissue || Peter + Logan
After the third text, Peter was about to snap his phone in half. He had a day off, and decided to rightly spend his time with his slave. But it seemed the other guard wanted different plans. He quietly told his slave to stay put and left the room. He didnât bother putting a shirt on, because it was his fucking house, and his day off. If Logan had a problem with it, Peter would gladly tell him off.Â
Peter practically yanked his front door off itâs hinges and glared up at the taller guard. âWhy must you ruin my one day off, Logan? Benedict and Leopold are smart enough not to bother me, in fact, most of the guards are smart enough to leave me beâŚYet, here you areâ
He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, âWhat is it that you want?â
âBenedict, Leopold, and most of the guards also donât take you seriously,â comes the smooth reply coupled with his offering of whiskey. Itâs pushed into the kidâs chest with a raised brow. Third timeâs the charm and Peter obviously wasnât listening. Logan was amused moreso by the fact the younger vampire actually thought he was intimidating or that he scared Logan with that scowl of his. Offering a terse smirk of sorts, Logan pats the otherâs cheek and steps inside.
âWell, first off, itâd be great to know if you can read.â The whiskey is set aside, his peace offering of sorts, upon the foyer table. âSecond,â Logan says as he takes off his jacket and hangs it nearby, âI also assumed you understood what the term âplayâ entailed.â Turning back to face Peter, his gaze snaps up towards the pulse coming from upstairs. Likely the kidâs pet. âConsidering this was a limited offer, I thought you might make good on your threats to show me your table and what youâre capable of doing.â
Now he goes and stokes the flames.
âUnless it was all talk.â
scar tissue || Peter + Logan
Call it an invasion of sorts.
The kid was hot-blooded and hot-headed and likely wouldâve told him to fuck off if it werenât for the fact Logan had a record of not listening. So it starts with showing up with a shitty bottle of whiskey and a few texts telling the younger vampire he had two choices; first, he could open the door and let him in like a decent human being or, alternatively, Logan could leave and find a cove to drink his way through his frustrations. Either way, it kept David out of the tempest that was Logan working through, struggling, to find solid footing after being so close to deathâs bed. Chewing on his lip, he scuffs a boot against the steps, letting out a breath and looking back towards his bike thoughtfully.
It mightâve been smarter to go to Kennedy for this sort of thing but lately Logan couldnât shake the feeling that he could trust the man about as far as he could throw him. They were friends, sure, but Baelfire was a fresh would that had scarcely healed over. All Logan had these days was regret and hope for the wolf, both equally dangerous in Kennedyâs grasp.
So here he is on the kidâs front step feeling like he might burst out of his skin with an unique mixture of anxiety and frustration. Logan ought to just punch Peter and level the playing field but thatâd be too kind. Hell, with his luck the kid would get off on it.