#azuredeath

AKA the muse Queen.

Send my muse one of these to see how they react.

      Her features were still contorted, a viscous display of the predator that had burst from her chest and left the angles of her face sharp and accented. Her hair was disheveled, tangles hung over pointed ears and plastered to the edges of her cheeks which had yet to settle from the silent snarl, leaving her nose crinkled and her eyes molten. A low rumble coiled up in Logan’s throat, frothed over her fangs and made a few of the bottles and various ointments littering the bedside table teeter and fall over with the force behind it.

             ”They should have not touched what was mine.”

       Despite her nature in the moment, despite the hostility and the blood of the slaughtered hunters still beneath her finger nails and caked into her hair, her touches were gentle, healing. Even in the right mindset Logan knew little to nothing about what could be done to help Mathis’ wounds, ravaged upon him by the hands of those hunters— all who had suffered grateful for daring to touch something so precious of hers.

       ”You should have been more careful,” Logan growled, binding the vampire’s chest with thick bandages, finally tying them off and pressing down, encouraging him to lay out along the mattress. The clothes he had been wearing were disposed of, the same as her own as she went to shower, her words left for Mathis to stay put. She returned and immediately crawled over him, tugged away the blankets and sheets so that their bodies lay flat, skin to skin. The shift had fallen away, but the feral aspect was still there, buried in the depths of her soften gazed.

Send my muse one of these to see how they react.

       The woman’s grin is wolfish in every sense of the word, in every sense of her nature, and it’s wide and glinting. Her eyes shifted, followed the line of those long fingers as Mathis’ hands caressed the edge of her side, over the swell of her hip and dipped toward those pair of dimples in the small of her back. Logan snapped at the edge of Mathis’ lips with sharpened teeth when she felt that hand smooth around and reach beyond the plump swell of her backside, reached for a slick warmth between her legs. The wolf shifted again, edged down against Mathis’ lap as she gazed into the depths of his eyes as her hands reached down to latch onto his wrists, tugged them away from her body and busied herself with tangling their digits together.

       ”Be yours?” She crooned back at him, canting her head curiously to the side, pooling her dark locks over the soft creamy color of her breasts. She caught the trailing of his gaze there, her grin brightening that much more before she returned those fangs to his skin, this time scraping along the edge of his collar, skating to his shoulder where she bit softly. “I was already under the impression that you were mine,” She dropped her head back and spoke against the shell of his ear, squeezing their hands a little more, “And what is mine is yours.”

Send my muse one of these to see their reaction.

Send me ‡ for my character's reaction to yours climbing in the tub with mine.

                              Sometimes.  Everyone needs a good, healthy, long soak in the tub.  Really does wonders.  Helps alleviate stress.  Scott’s not opposed to indulging in it now and again.  He doesn’t go the step of bath salts or anything like that, but he still finds it equally clarifying.  His head is tipped back against the tub and his hands are grasping either side, eyes shut and that’s when the atmosphere changed.

                              He scented him – but that wasn’t something unusual – his Vampire was around often.  But the feel of air shifting as legs approached the tub made him realize that he was in the bathroom with him.  There was a purr in his ear.  “Move up a little, pup.”  A hard shiver works down his back and he is lost on breath for a moment.  He complies, as Mathis will slid in behind him, then pull him into his lap. 

                              “Much better.”  It’s not a question from Mathis, it’s a statement.  One Scott can easily agree with.  He can feel the Vampire pushing his nose against his neck, inhaling, and his hands will dig into Mathis’ thighs.  He swears he can feel the smirk against his collarbone.  One hand snakes forward, up the werewolf’s inner thigh, against smooth skin.  While fangs scrape over his throat. 

Put ♥ in my ask for my muses reaction to yours waiting in bed for mine.

                              Coach had been drilling them.  Way harder than usual.  They had practice after school and some nights too.  He was dragging his feet as he finally came in the door.  He is up the stairs, leaving his things down in the hall, away from the door.  Almost running on auto, he goes into the bathroom and showers, brushes his teeth and washes his face. 

                              He’s completely unaware of what’s awaiting him in bed.  Not until he steps from the bathroom, just in his towel, hair still damp.  Moisture still clinging to his body.  Eyes come into focus as he sees a single, thin sheet draped over the form of a very familiar Vampire.  Mathis had decided to let the sheet fall just under his belly-button, leaving little to the imagination.  A sparked desire, darkness holding those chocolate-browns. 

                              Breathe, Scott.  Remember to breathe.  Finally, a swift rush of air passes through open lips, a light burn in his lungs.  How long had he been holding that?  The smile that Mathis has flowing over his lips is both sensual and beckoning.  Inviting.  He is about to go and grab a pair of boxers, only to remember he more than likely won’t be wearing them now. 

                              As he chucks the towel aside, the Vampire – his – will pull back the sheet and welcome him into both the bed and his arms.  The remainder of the evening is a blur and there is little sleep to be had by either of them.  Neither would be complaining.  One image that will grace Mathis’ mind is that final moment where Scott arches, chanting his name like a prayer, before release.

Johnny wondered why he was even out at night.  But he needed to practice his magic without anyone jumping him.  Of course, he couldn't help but hear a sound that was nearby.  "Who's there?"

"Hi, welcome to Hood's Gy-"