archivedstrangehungers-blog

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

hell truly hath no fury like a woman scorned. @ debbie ocean

it was a double - edged sword , more so because debbie hated to admit that she was at all scorned , but the fact remains. he knew that , better than anyone now , but perhaps the worst part is that by the time the cuffs got slapped on his wrist , she was long over it. that doesn’t mean this encounter will prove inadequate. debbie can work with ‘ scorned ’.

“ you scorned , miss - mrs. boland ? ”

it is , admittedly , a shot in the dark , but debbie doesn’t resent it. if she keeps her hands just dirty enough , they never look different from clean , and that’s key when it comes to staying out of prison this time around. 

“ scorn is good for the skin , keeps you young if you know how to wield it. just don’t let it wield you. that’s where things get messy. ”

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a deal’s a deal - especially one with the devil. / ruby @ stan

❝ ain’t that the truth. ❞

it’s too true , so true that it stings , but he can’t discern those feelings from every other coursing through his veins at the moment. he stares , eyes blank , at the wall opposite him , attempting to find both a question and an answer to pose. but he isn’t as all - knowing as he hoped he’d be once he had a family to care for , and his wife isn’t either , but he trusts her. he will always trust her more than he trusts himself. 

❝ but that don’t mean we can just lay down and take it , right ? we can’t. ❞

still maybe they should. because what comes with less collateral damage ? what is certain to see them out of the pit they’ve dug themselves into ? them , they , us. they are a team , and that doesn’t cease to be a fact in someone’s darkest hour. he may have been disappointed to begin with —and of course he would be ! ruby knew he would be!— but he also understood. again , he trusts his wife. he doesn’t trust her any less today than he did two decades ago. 

❝ we’ll work it out. we always do. we always will. ❞ we gotta. 

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

anyways, hello ily talk about marcel attending cami’s funeral

i’m going to be honest. marcel attending cami’s funeral would have been a last - minute decision. as in , someone would have looked him in his eyes and said “ you’ll regret it if you don’t ” and he went because he did not at all plan on it. it would have been too painful —which it was— and he wouldn’t be ready to say goodbye —which he wasn’t. because nothing could have readied him for her death. nothing on this earth could have prepared him for the loss off cami , and even after the fact , accepting it is a whole other animal.

there is a lot of anger that comes with losing cami. it is a different category of anger that was expelled when davina died —although that was , in itself , an animal no one wants to touch— but no less piercing. it’s the anger that comes with senselessness. marcel has no patience for senselessness to begin with , but for cami to fall the way she does , it hits him in an entirely different way from an entirely different angle. but it guts him. 

it guts him and there is no other word for it. more so due to his lack of efforts in protecting her. he thought klaus would. even when every instinct he had told him he knew better , he let it be. and he wishes , to this day , that he hadn’t. it’s almost that much more horrendous , because she picked klaus and decided to see him for what he wasn’t and could never be. marcel’s love for klaus has never dismissed the consequences of it , and he feels that cami’s did. and he hates it. and for a long while , he resents her too.

he doesn’t join anyone. he attends from a distance. there is so much he cannot say nor express to her in any proximity , and so he finds no point in closing the gap. he does not want to be around anyone else. he does not want to look into the eyes of those he blames and pretends that he doesn’t. and so he says his own peace far enough away that he feels safe to do so , but truly , his discussions with her come when he’s alone and away from some mortal resting place. 

so yeah , basically , it’s a last minute decision and one that takes a lot of courage and patience to make.

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

talk about the last time emmett proposed to rose

emmett is the kind of guy that steals other people’s thunder because he knows he looks better in it , soooooo he definitely proposed to rosalie as the car carrying edward and bella to their honeymoon drove away. he just dropped down on his knee , pulled out a gigantic ring , and asked her again. and carlisle and esme definitely shook their head i imagine , but the people who don’t know they’ve been married a hundred times were like “awwwwwwww”, so !!! 

but it isn’t as though it doesn’t have meaning. it always has meaning. emmett always has a reason. an epiphany or a revelation or just a sudden outburst of unadulterated love , he always has a reason. and the wedding made him reminisce , brought him back to memories of their weddings prior , and he wanted nothing more than to relive it. 

and so while the ring had been burning a hole in his pocket for a few weeks , standing next to her while they watched bella and edward leave made him remember how beautiful she is in white , how so much more in love he falls each time she walks down the aisle towards him , and just how important each wedding has been to them both. and above all , he loves spoiling her and making her happy , and he’s ready to recreate that. 

and watching edward and bella pull away makes the urge overwhelming. because it’s been so long , and he loves rosalie so much , and he just wants to see her glow again. he wants to give her all that attention and more , and he wants to remind her that bella’s initiation into the family takes nothing away from her , away from them , and he’s ready to have another day to celebrate her. he would marry her every morning if he could , but this will have to do. 

so yeah , he drops to his knee in his tux and asks her to please marry him again before he slides a brand new —and much bigger— diamond ring on her finger. 

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

@strangehungers >> myth / historical muses

@stagnantsaints >> general multimuse

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

so ive started moving things over to the new blogs , and i’ll be following people from there shortly. ill still be posting finished memes on this account , but that’s about it 

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

"i have never lied to you. and i will never lie to you." ~ inej @ kaz (:

SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO SAY IT. they both know better , and cowardice looks so brand new on him that it’s a difficult image to stomach. like so many other images embedded upon the inner walls of his mind. he shuts his eyes as he leans on his cane , back to her as though to display some amount of doubt. instead , he looks like — well , exactly what he is. AFRAID. 

he opens his mouth several times with every intention of gaining back some ground , but nothing comes. shame has claimed his tongue and refuses to return it , and he dares not demand it back. it may be for the best , considering how vulnerable he feels. if his voice shakes , it gives everything away , and what does he have left ?

he keeps telling himself he will have healed by the time she returned next. and each time she returns , it feels as though he’s more broken than he had been the time before. and he figures it must be him , this will to become worthless to her. but that can’t be true. because he has not given up , and if he has not given up , why in kerch would he want her to ?

❛ what does it cost you ? to be so honest ? and expecting so little in return ? ❜

it is both multifaceted and merciless , and he brings it down like a club between them. he still won’t look at her. nevertheless , he wonders how many more conversations just like this she is willing to endure before she takes one of her beloved knives and severs whatever binds them together. he should stop being so eager to find out. 

❛ why do you settle for so little in return ? ❜

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"is it my thanks you want, or a kiss?" ~ kat @ elijah xo

❛ why must it mean one or the other ? ❜

IRRATIONAL is what this is. she makes him irrational. there are moments where he finds himself surprised at how easy it all seems , even when it is anything but. she has a charm that has been cultivated for centuries , and he is no more immune to it than the day it first befell him. it’s almost pathetic that he still tries to pretend he is.

but tonight finds him far more malleable and far beyond his own means. here , in this satisfying solitude , there is more courage in his brazen heart than is common. is that what she inspires ? if so , perhaps her charm is nothing worthy of immunity. instead , perhaps he should be grateful.

❛ why can’t they be the same thing ? ❜

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“maybe i’ll see you in another life if this one wasn’t enough.” @ shang

❛ maybe. ❜

he’d never considered such a fathomless question. then again , happiness seemed a dream he was not entitled to because it could not coexist with duty and responsibility. some men grew up to be husbands and fathers. shang had been born to be a soldier and nothing more. and certainly not anything less.

but mulan had blown a hole in this ideology with such little effort that he wondered how fragile it had been to begin with.

❛ but we should still do our best to make this one count. ❜

he hates to see anything go to waste , and that still stands. but their time together has been anything but , and he knows this. although it does seem as though they have lived two concurrent and consecutive lives with one another , one under the shield of a lie and the other under the scrutinizing gaze of the truth. he would trade neither for the world. 

❛ but i doubt even another would be enough for me. ❜

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

17. Control

NSFW PROMPTS | accepting. 

One muse acts a the dominant over the other during sex

IT’S NOT THAT HE NEEDS THE CONTROL. of course he doesn’t. he rarely does , and even when he does , it’s just as rare that he takes it. she knows that. how many times has the sheriff lectured him about being more assertive , puffing out his chest and banging on it when necessary ? he never pulls his gun unless he plans to use it , and he never raises his voice if he can hear himself breathing , and somehow , that’s supposed to be a problem.

yet at the moment , relinquishing control doesn’t seem to be a problem at all. and somehow , reclaiming it isn’t either. 

the locker room is stale with sweat and fatigue , and maybe later he can blame it on the steam from the showers and the scalding water falling down his back and unwinding his muscles , but something —and something strong— drives him through it all to press her into the tiled wall and pin her there. with his mouth. 

whatever words she’d planned to say when she stepped under the spray before him , whatever had been so damn important that she could not leave him alone with his thoughts , didn’t seem all too important now. she looks as though she’s forgotten what she planned to say , and even if she hadn’t , he imagines it would be difficult to form words around the wanton moans dripping from her mouth. his lips latch on to a nipple , and his hand palms the other breast just as her fingers thread through his curls. 

this lasts all of a minute before he has her hands restrained.

she struggles against the hold for the sake of struggling , but it doesn’t last long , his fingers spreading her open as he palms her center , the hell of his hand pressed firm against her clit. she bucks her hips , keening , and he feels his knees threaten to buckle. he stands up a bit straighter. 

none of it seems real. and maybe he’s still overflowing with adrenaline or maybe he got caught by one of those stray bullets , but whatever the case , everything is brighter and more pronounced. there is no sensation his nerves overlook , and his body vibrates with white noise and deep feeling. he inserts a finger inside of her. and then another. the hand around her wrists tightens.

oh , he thinks. so this is control. 

he obliges them both in time , replacing his thick fingers with a thicker erection , opening her up in ways he’d never even contemplated before , much less in the precinct showers. as the noise begins to grow , ricocheting off of metal and tile , he plasters his lips to hers and thrusts so hard that his knees collide with the wall each and every time. he pays it no mind. instead , every frustration is laid out in the space , or lack thereof , between them. it burns like gasoline , and the heat continues to grow. 

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

58. Reflect (your choice, don't say i don't do anything for you!!!)

NSFW PROMPTS | accepting. 

Our muses have sex and watch themselves in a mirror

DESPITE BEING EVERYONE ELSE’S VICTIM , he has all too many of his own vices. his innocence , smothered and snuffed out long ago —if it ever existed at all— is a putrid smell , a bitter taste at the back of his throat before the wine hits , and he has been trying to wash it out for ages. 

he thinks he may have finally found a solution to the problem.

the drapes surrounding his bed flutter in the breeze coming in through the open doors of the balcony , the moonlight’s fingernails clawing at the floor and stopping just shy of the bed. no matter. the candles glittering around the room provide more than enough light , reflected in the mirrors now lining the wall. and the candles aren’t the only vivid reflections either. 

the god’s fingers flow through the silk of hair , pulling her closer still. she sits in his lap , his mouth at her neck , peeling away at her patience and his sanity. he meets his own gaze across the room for a moment. he hears her inhale as she does the same. he has never seen anything more beautiful. 

until he turns to the side to see the reflection from that angle. 

the night darkens. or maybe it’s just his eyes. but the candles seem to dim as she pushes him onto his back. he looks up at the ceiling , sees the silhouette of her , valiant , above him. her eyes remain on her likeness. he takes advantage of this and pulls her hips down onto his own. he enters her with subtle accuracy. she does not miss a beat. 

lucrative moans and sensitive grunts pour out into the room and over every surface , reverberating from glass panel to glass panel. he sees , hears , feels everything with an amplified excess , and it is almost overwhelming. he arches his back as she arches hers , the new angle of their hips only repeating the cycle. his eyes roll back into his head for a second too long , the loss of control too great for his own arrogant pride.

it’s a sudden twist of hips and lock of wrists when he rolls them over , pinning her down upon the sheets as he thrusts in a flurry of groans and grunts. she looks to the ceiling as she begins to lose her breath. he never takes his eyes off of her. the way her eyes roll back and her chest heaves and her mouth forms a crisp circle as her fingers tear at the backs of his hands.

this is the best seat in the house anyway. no reflection can show him this. 

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

18. Perform

NSFW PROMPTS | accepting. 

One muse watching the other masturbate for them / ATLANTA & NATASHA.

THEY TEND TO TALK A LOT. and it usually isn’t anything of substance. one asks a bunch of questions , and the other evades them like middle school P.E. dodgeballs. they circle one another and look for a way one. all they find is a million ways out. someone always escapes. and then they run into one another and begin the cycle all over again.

frankly ? atlanta is a bit tired of it. 

she’s already stripped down to nothing beneath her robe when natasha arrives this time , and atlanta does not bother asking how she managed to get inside of the top floor suite of the shanghai hotel. instead , she continues her routine , rubbing lotion on her sore legs as she sits upon the edge of the bed. the questions start pretty soon after. 

they end just as quickly after that.

because atlanta has many weapons but none more clutch than the five fingers on her hands and the curve of a smirk. and when she lays back upon her pillows , she knows natasha will move closer as if it is proximity that keeps her from her goals. she’s about to learn how beneficial that distance can be. 

dark braids cascade down slender shoulders as long legs spread across the comforter. her robe gives way as if it knows its role , framing her body in all the right places while exposes all the right others. she slips two fingers between her thighs , her cobalt gaze meeting natasha’s without waver. 

❛ we’ve played that game for so long. ❜

her voice is breathless and antagonistic all at once , eyes shimmering with mischief. moisture clots at her center , digits massaging plump lips until she’s wet enough to lather them with. and then she dips inside , and a delicious moan fills the air , loud as a foghorn and twice as intriguing. 

atlanta plays for keeps. 

❛ it’s time - we try another. ❜

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“we’re not that different, you and i.” olivia @ billy

❛ i wouldn’t imagine we would be , babygirl. ❜

but he can’t deny it. he’d hoped they were. something clouds his face when he says it , something that obscures his darkest secrets and harshest truths. he knows something no one else knows. deep down , he is ugly. deep down , he doesn’t deserve how much his kids love him despite everything he’s put them through.

despite everything they’ve gone through without him. 

❛ what’s on your mind ? ❜

he places down the playbook in his hand and looks up at her , peering through a haze of fatigue and concern. he’s more concerned with what he’s missed than what’s coming , because odds are that the signs were there before she had the heart to speak up. that’s how his daughter works. just like him. if they can hide it , they will. and they’ll hide it until it devours them whole. 

❛ is there something you need to talk about ? ❜

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“i’m pedaling backwards.” jordan @ spencer

❛ you mean for this play , right ? ❜

there are some times when spencer can’t tell if they’re having the same conversation , especially when it always feels like one of them is holding back. or being held back. either way , these days , everything seems coded. jordan won’t talk about his dad. spencer won’t talk about his. but both of those men are right there on the sideline every single day , even when they aren’t.

even when jordan and spencer are the only two left on the field. 

why does it feel like they’re BOTH pedaling backwards , towards a past that never loved them nor let them go ? it’s confusing. and spencer can barely bring himself to look the other boy in his eyes , knowing what he knows. 

❛ you know , even if i’d had my head in the game , that wildcat offense wouldn’t work forever. and it won’t work against south crenshaw. so we gotta strike early and use it while we can. ❜

talking about the game makes it easier to . . . well , NOT talk about the game. as in , talk about anything but , because spencer might choke on all the skeletons crawling out of everyone’s closets and down his damn throat. he’s worried. he’s worried , and he can finally admit it isn’t fair. 

❛ you ready ? ❜

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

“maybe i’m living in the past.” olivia @ coop

it’s not so much a revelation as it is an affirmation. coop had been searching for the feeling for so long , but words never seemed enough. or there weren’t enough words. something along those lines. and even with the nightmares and the flashbacks and this thirst for revenge , nothing ever seemed quite RIGHT. 

and the last thing she wanted to do was downplay her own emotions. maybe for spencer and her dad , maybe even for tyrone most of the time , but not for herself. she had always wanted to remain true to herself , even if everyone else held out a box for her to fit in for them. 

❛ maybe we all are. ❜

she’s been trying to find something that resonates with her. anything. because lately , all she feels is numb , and no matter what happens when she’s awake , the worst of it follows her to sleep. patience is gonna stop living up to her name soon , coop knows , and spencer . . . well , worry is his middle name. ain’t nothin’ changing there , but that doesn’t mean coop wants it to remain this way. 

when she comes back to herself and looks at olivia , she sees the same searching gaze , somewhere far away looking for answers to the questions she’s too afraid to ask. and coop thinks , ‘ naw , this can’t be how it is. we’re too young to feel this old. ’ because if a girl from beverly hills looks this lost , what the hell must coop look like ?

❛ and i guess we gotta stop living in it , and just - learn to live with it. ❜

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

UPDATE: so im getting my new blogs set up. before i move, im going to try and clear my inbox both by deleting older memes and completing the bulk of them , so we’ll see how far i get before i throw in the towel and call it 

[archivedstrangehungers-blog]

keep your enemies close, right? @ eve rothlo

she sizes up the other woman for a moment , considers her from every angle she has had access to up to now. she’s impressed , in her own way. and beth is impressive , in her own way. that doesn’t negate the differences. eve does not often dabble in such matters. she likes to stay in dungeon with the executioners , holding off their axes and aggression from killing someone else. 

she wonders if beth knows about the kingpin clause , and how it allows the state to execute drug offenses like barbarians.

❛  that would be the smartest plan of action , yes. it’s worked quite well from what i’ve seen on several occasions.  ❜

she doesn’t give too much away , allows the real question to linger in the air between them , suspended from beth’s confidence and eve’s own contempt. from where she stands , this looks very much like something other than what it is , and she doesn’t know how to feel about that. all she can do is cross her arms and show a card.

❛  the problem is always knowing who is the enemy. and worse , knowing who isn’t.  ❜