❥ : Where would they kiss your muse if they had to kiss them right now.
@megxrx
“Just stop bickering and kiss already,” a drunkard slurred from the seat next to Lucius. Lucius had had the unfortunate timing to run into Meg at the Wolf’s Den when he’d been hoping for some very different company. Their ensuing argument lasted a good fifteen minutes over the placement of coasters of all things. Thinking it would get her to either be quiet enough to let him leave, or to shut up the patrons around them, Lucius sneered and grabbed Meg's hand before kissing it on the palm, then used that same hand to slap the drunkard across the face. “Thanks,” he muttered before finishing his drink and getting up to leave. “Didn’t want to get my hands dirty.”
♒ : How my muse would describe yours in one sentence.
“There comes a time when pride finds a limit and should make way for compliance and clearly Meg hasn’t reached that point.”
@brittiism
♚ : What my muse thinks your muse is good at.
“Brittany could probably corner and sleep with anyone she sets her mind to, even without the aided help of being a Siren. Smooth talking is a skill, including the way she carries herself. Some of it is natural. Some is learned. All of it is effective.”
✘ : What one thing they would change about your muse.
“Any questions directed toward her personal self are immediately squashed in favor of deflection. It would not hurt to open up every once in a while.”
send ‡ for my muse’s reaction to yours climbing into bed with them.
@megxrx
She’d pissed him off one too many times. Her sharp wit and even sharper mouth set his teeth on edge. There were some people he longed to feed from, and others made him want to steer clear. Very clear. Meg was one of those people who made Lucius want to keep his distance when he hungered. He imagined her blood tasted like something angry and blunt, like a wooden bat. But she’d goaded him, and so he glamoured her. The problem was that he still didn’t know the finer nuances of his glamour and couldn’t find a way to turn it off. And now, he found himself stuck with a glazed-over Meg climbing into his bed. When did it wear off? He wasn’t sure. But he hoped to high heaven she didn’t snore.
@brittiism
“Okay, I will show you this once and once only,” Lucius said, sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed. When Brittany mirrored his position across from him on the bed, he took her hands in his, then carefully placed them on either side of his head, cupping his ears. It worked much better this way. “Are you ready?” When she indicated her response, Lucius closed his eyes, hummed a moment.... and then wiggled his ears underneath her cupped fingers. When he opened his eyes again, they were narrowed. “You tell this to no one. Now it’s your turn. Truth or Dare.”
John was very careful as he approached the tree, half-hiding behind it and crouching down behind it, cautiously setting the thick, old book he was holding down on the floor and gently putting his hand overtop it. He glanced backwards, and was met with two dark, unblinking eyes. A demon.
Instead of reaching out to kill it, he motioned for the demon to step towards him. The demon did, her face eventually lit by the brilliant blue light in front of them. It was the portal.
"You comin' with?" John asked the demon as he stood, kicking some dirt over the book and pulling a knife out of the inside of his jacket. The demon gestured for him to put the knife away, knowing it'd slice him to pieces once they were inside. Then the demon smirked.
"'Course I'm coming with," she answered, following John towards the portal. "Wouldn't miss this shit for the world."
"How do I get Sammy's soul back?"
Meg sat tied to one of John's chairs, rooted to the spot thanks to a devil's trap, and watched him with raised eyebrows. "Really? You're doing all this for a girl?"
"Answer the question," John had simply replied, staring her down. Meg was silent for a few moments before she let out a sigh.
"You have to get to hell."
"I can't get to hell," John had answered, glaring at her.
"You're John McDonald, aren't you?" Meg had said, letting out a short laugh. "Oh shit, this is gold. You want to go to hell for someone... but you're banned. Boo-hoo. Now let me go." When John had just stared at her, she let out a small sigh. "Fine. I know a loophole, kind of. Different way. Purgatory. I'll take you there. One condition."
"What?" John had said immediately, making sure his knife was visible to her.
Meg had smiled. "You let me come with."
"I still don't know your goddamn motive," John muttered, but he continued to move forward, and soon the unlikely duo was through the portal, and in purgatory.
They landed in a dark and seemingly silent forest. John landed on his stomach, and he slowly forced himself up, wiping the dirt out of his eyes and taking a step back.
"Where are all the monsters?" He whispered as he removed his hunting knife, earning a glare from his demonic partner, who now moved to stand next to him.
"They'll come."
John turned to face her, quickly pinning her against a tree and getting close into her face. "Listen here, Meg. You fight with me or I kill you without hesitation. I brought you here, I don't know why, but you owe me. Got it?"
She shoved him off, frowning. "Yes, I get it. Stop worrying your pretty little head so much."
John scoffed, shutting his mouth when he heard something like a growl behind him. He turned, and came face-to-face with a vampire.
That's when the fight began.
The two held their weapons at the ready, cutting heads off and stabbing in hearts, ducking and diving and running - lots of running.
"Where the hell is the - "John was cut off as a vampire slammed into him, he quickly rolled over and cut its head off before he stumbled off and began running again. " - way to hell?!"
"Up here!" Meg screamed from what seemed like several miles away. John turned several times, looking for the source, but saw nothing. He was surrounded by darkness, the trees and the leaves on the ground. He could hear growling from around him, monsters were beginning to surround him, close in on him. He was trapped.
"MEG! Damn it!" He called, twirling the knife around in his hand. As though on cue, the demon dropped down from one of the trees, knife in her hand, and gestured for John to run as she distracted the monsters. John didn't think twice.
After running for what felt like hours, he was still at a dead end. John turned and turned but couldn't find the exit. Everything seemed hopeless until... he felt hopeless.
He knew the way to hell must be close. Seconds later he heard Meg approach him, cut and bruised and missing an ear, but alive nonetheless. "This must be it," John said, looking at the small hole in between two large masses of rock. It had to be.
John went in first. He was in an unlit corridor. He frowned, turning to face Meg, who had followed him. "This'll lead you to the soul you're looking for," Meg answered in response to his confused look. "Hell is made for demons. Since you're with me, it caters to me. Automatically assumes I'm searching for this soul for torterous purpose."
John nodded, reaching back to lightly pat her arm. "Thanks," he muttered, moving forward. He heard the sounds of groaning from behind the walls, and soon could see windows with bars on them. These weren't corridor walls, they were cells.
Before long he'd reached the end of the hall, and there he spotted Sammy's soul. It looked just like her, like human her, with the exception of the fact that it was just a glowing form.
"Sammy?" John said, stepping close into the circle-shaped room. The soul turned towards him, was silent for a second, and then screamed and attempted to attack him.
To John's surprise he was able to hold the soul down while he waited for Meg to help him. Meg approached him with her knife, looking exhausted and worried, and created a large cut in his arm.
Before long the soul was inside of John's arm.
"We need to get out before they find out who you are," Meg said quickly, grabbing his arm and running out with him. The cut had healed from the healing power of the soul, the only thing showing where it was was the bright purple glowing light coming from his arm.
Once they'd run through purgatory once again and escaped through the portal, Meg gave him a salute and began to walk off.
"Hey, wait," John said, turning to look at her. They were both exhausted, but John needed an answer. "Why did you help me?"
Meg sighed. "When hell took me, they forgot to remove my soul. Overtime in hell, it began to fade, until only a small bit of it remained. When I was released to Earth, part of my soul began to come back. When it did, I remembered why I went to hell in the first place. I remembered why I willingly let them make me a demon. I did it for her. The blonde you're working to save. I did it for my unborn cousin. Now, I'd give you the whole story, but I have an ear to grow back."
John stared at her in shock, but nodded, and soon he was alone. He made his way to where he knew Sammy would be, and before long he was face-to-face with the woman he was looking for.
"What the hell are you doing here?" She asked, and he just shook his head and moved towards her. Her angry glare didn't knock him down, instead he just stood close and extended his arm, pulling out his knife and running it across his arm, right below where the purple glow was. "What - " John shook his head again, and held out his hand, letting the small purple light fall into his hand. Sammy's eyes widened and she immediately shook her head. She knew what it was.
They were against a wall now, and John held his jaw strong. "This'll hurt," he said, looking at her apologetically as his hand plunged into her chest, the soul allowing him to go in as though she was clay. She screamed out, and John shut his eyes sharply to keep from crying.
When her hands gripped his arm, he let out a shaky "I'm sorry", finally removing his hand after several long moments.
Sammy looked at him, a thousand emotions across her face. She had broken out into a sweat, and slid down the wall, now she sat there with her hands still gripping John's arm. His hand moved from out of her chest to rest on her shoulder, and he ducked his head to look at the ground as he gave her a moment to collect her emotions.
Overwhelmed, the blonde began crying hysterically, like she would never be able to stop. John kicked his knife aside and wrapped his arms around her, ignoring her slight protest, allowing her to finally break and sob into his chest as he lightly rubbed her back.
He barely noticed the large claw cuts on his shoulder.
