#infamousxmarlowe

[necessex-blog]

😒

…someone my muse hates.

@romulus

@infamousxmarlowe

[oxtsider]

bleed into the water --- r.lum.r ( @infamousxmarlowe )

They only gather when they feel like you’re weak Bleed into the water  Until they show you all the rows of their teeth

sweet lies --- exo ( @ncnpareil )

Even if it’s a lie, I’ll make you happy With the sweetest lie in the world

foreigner’s god --- hozier ( @astormayfair )

Her eyes look sharp and steady Into the empty parts of me But still my heart is heavy With the hate of some other man's beliefs

[oxtsider]

@infamousxmarlowe

      Margaret hated the way metal smelled on her fingertips, a cold, sharp tang. It was a far cry from the floral lotion she smoothed across her skin. The feel of weapons wasn’t pleasant, either. Guns were heavy, clunky things, unpleasant and hard against her palms, and she couldn’t fathom how anyone could grow comfortable holding them. Margaret certainly never wanted to. No matter how useful they could be, she continued to hesitate before wrapping her fingers around the handle, warily slipping practice bullets into the chambers as she took her spot at the mini range. 

       At least she wasn’t a half-bad shot. Margaret didn’t know why that fact nagged her nerves, and she dismissed the thought with a frown. After spending what felt like hours at the range, she shoved the guns away and quickly made her escape, slipping the ponytail holder out of her hair and shaking her curls as she went, eager to get the stench of that weaponry off her skin. Her apartment was hardly an appealing recluse, however, so she steered towards the library where she’d picked a project to pass the hours. Normally, Margaret would be horrified to find so many books destroyed. Now, she was happy to have something to busy her hands that wasn’t destructive, but creative. Creative and lovely and peaceful, none of this whacking and attacking business. 

        She situated herself in a little alcove, tattered books and binding supplies she’d found in a closet splayed on the floor in front of her. With her back to the door and a book in her lap, Margaret sewed pages back into place, taped spines together, humming a bit of Vivaldi under her breath when she smelled them. Lycan. Margaret peered up from beneath her lashes, searching across the shelves.                “Hello?”

[necessex-blog]

@infamousxmarlowe

they’d settled in, even though it had only been a few days. astor hadn’t really wandered much from the castle. he’d really only departed from ashton twice, once to go exploring while ashton slept & he couldn’t, & now. they hadn’t been allowed to transport any liquids, & astor was having a hard time getting his hands on alcohol. he didn’t want to go into town just for a drink, so he padded his way down to the kitchens. it was early in the morning, the sun would be up within the hour, & the hallways were silent as he turned through them. almost silent, he heard the steps before he saw them, & his shoulders were immediately rigid, those light sapphires narrowing at the grin that sat on their lips. they look like they’d been doing something they shouldn’t, & it only raised his hackles further. his tone was flat, perhaps even a little cold, with his question. ❝isn’t it past your bedtime, little lycan?❞ he’d never had the pleasure of meeting marlowe himself, but he’d heard plenty.

[johnnyboi]

u smell and i hate ur ugly face - not marlowe ( p.s. i miss u let's go blow stuff up )

               “marlowe, how i’ve missed you. && don’t worry, muffin.                  we’ll bring quite the BANG soon. scout’s honor.” 

[oxtsider]

回 ( from marlowe )

回 - patching a wound

      “Darling, it should be fine. Burns rarely last long. It’ll be healed in a few hours. . .” Margaret tried to assure Marlowe but her brow furrowed in concern. The lycan had offered to pack the burn with ice and some ointment, soothe the pain that still throbbed in a low, heated ache throughout. Silly --- she shouldn’t have been out anyway. This was WHY she chose to stay in her apartment. 

      With a sigh, she stretched her hand back for Marlowe. It would be so rude to refuse the their offer of help. Margaret pursed her lips, looking up at the thick, dark curtains hanging from the ceiling. She’d make a point to suggest Aaliyah, Margot, and Romulus re-check the rods later. “Thank you for hanging those back up, dear. I can’t believe they just fell.” Margaret shook her head in disappointment, still shocked. Someone must’ve tampered with them before. She’d been lucky Marlowe happened to be close by when they dropped to the floor. She shuddered to think of what would’ve happened if she was exposed longer. It’d only singed her arm but that was enough.

       “OW!” She cried out, wrenching her hand back to cradle it to her chest with a wince. “Marlowe, that hurt, dear . . .”