#'you think i'd crumble? you think i'd lay down and die?'

[theskeletoninthegarden]

I don't know why but every time I've tried to think of I am A Man of Constant Sorrow from Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou? I've thought of I Will Survive instead.

[spookyspecterino]

I'd love to see an Eric x Reader where they share a first kiss together.

Love this ask. Thank you for requesting it! It went longer than I originally planned because I have a flair for the dramatics.

Focus on Me

Eric x GN! Reader

CW: Panic attacks, fear, fear of death, mentions of blood, some language.

Three days. Three days since New York became an unrecognizable, empty shell. Three days of maddening silence. Three days of existing in absolute total fear.

The helicopters have stopped flying overhead. There’s nothing in the sky anymore. Everything has just stopped.

The silence is unbearable. At least now the ambient sound of the storm—the torrential rain and howling wind—fills that awful, strange void.

Every sound, every movement, even the water dripping from your clothes, has you and Eric pausing in step. The creak in the floorboards, the way the crumbling building shifts against the outside wind, it’s nerve wracking and makes forward progress slow.

This building wouldn’t have been your first choice, but you and Eric needed to get out of the storm. The giant holes in the side of the complex were blissfully ignored until you were both inside and the strong wind whipped through them. You counted your blessings that the concrete stairs were even intact.

Eric’s hand is on your shoulder as you get further into the building. It eases your nerves, as you know it comforts him as well. It’s the only source of warmth you can feel through the ice-cold adrenaline and the chill of your damp clothes. A warm spot of hope.

You’re positive he can feel you trembling. Scared shitless. Expecting to die at any moment.

It’s so dark in that hallway, the only source of light is from the night sky, through the shattered windows. The storm wind howls through the glass cracks creating an eerie whistling. The rain pounds, lightning flashes give you quick snapshots of the apartments around you. There’s an open door to your left, which seems like a good option.

Lightning flashes again and illuminates the dark red stain leading through the door. Never mind.

The clap of thunder moments later startles you so bad you flinch and duck. Eric’s hand squeezes your shoulder, reassuringly. Without thinking, you grab his hand and hold it in place. An anchor to keep you calm, to keep you sane. A reminder that you’re not alone.

You pass the red stain with careful steps. Part of that apartment must have a hole in it because the sound of rain is clearer, every pounding raindrop echoes off the walls.

The last door to your right is wide open.

Lightning flashes again. Another snapshot. Coast is clear, no trail of blood this time.

Every muscle tenses up, bracing for the thunder to follow. Push on. You repeat this in your mind as the noise rolls above, gentler this time. You can’t afford to lose your nerve.

Eric’s hand moves from your shoulder to your lower back as he shifts to stand next to you. His other arm wrapped around your waist. He’s taking more of a lead as you pass through the doorway together. His breath comes out trembling and slow in your ear.

This apartment has more windows, letting in enough light to see around the room. In the context of everything, it looks strange. It’s still neat and undisturbed—the couch has a blanket and cute pillows, the coffee table has a tv remote on it, the living room floor is covered in a long, plush carpet. It’s a time capsule, back to the last hours of normal life within the city.

Eric points to the couch and back to you.

Shaking your head ‘no,’ you grab the blanket from the back of the couch and lay it down on the carpet. Somehow, sleeping on the ground feels better—what if the springs in the couch make noise? The idea of shifting in your sleep and creating noise has become a constant fear every night.

There’s been so many new fears in the last couple of days.

Eric watches you, then begins sitting on the ground too. He takes his suit jacket off and hangs it off the coffee table to dry. He’s busy setting up his spot to sleep, smoothing out his side of the blanket and taking one of the couch pillows. He hands the other to you. It feels like a really strange sleepover.

Lightning flashes again and you get a clear view of Eric. His tie is still on.

Your fingers find their way to his shoulders first as you reach out blindly in the dark. They’re broad, well defined, and you’re surprised at first. Eric freezes, thinking something is wrong, but you continue on your way to his tie, gently pulling it loose and unwrapping it from around his neck. He watches you, sitting up a little so you can reach better.

So distracted by your task, the following clap of thunder above barely registers. Neither of you flinch.

“My mum taught me how to fix my ties.” His voice is barely a whisper, but it mixes in the space between you with your own breath.

In the dark you’re only inches apart.

You pull the tie off and lay it down on the coffee table next to his suit jacket.

“What’s she like?” You ask with a matching whisper.

God, the sound of your own voice is strange to you now. Raspy, raw, unused. And Eric’s…you almost forgot he was English.

“My mum?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s kind…” He swallows back the rising emotion in his voice. “Always so kind. She didn’t want me to—to go.” He takes a ragged breath; the harsh noise is enough to make you tense and pull him closer to you. It’s an action of panic at first, but it quickly turns into a hug as he presses his face into the crook of your neck.

At least now his choked sobs are muffled.

Running a hand through his hair, you try to calm him. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

There’s a sniffle and he pulls back. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Here, lay down.”

You lay down too, guiding his head to the pillow. His nose nudges yours in the close space—you can feel his breath on your cheek. His hand grips the side of your shirt. He might still be crying; his eyes are shiny in the dark.

Your palm rests against the side of his neck, cupping his jaw—it stays there. “Tell me what England is like.”

Another flash of lightning. His face is so strikingly handsome in the light. Droplets of water fall from his brown curls onto his forehead.

“Um…well…” He begins unsteadily. “It’s very tight.”

“Tight?”

He nods, nose brushing against yours again. “The roads don’t get wider than two lanes. One going each way. All the houses are linked in long rows—almost like the neighborhoods here.”

“Is there traffic?”

Eric laughs once, a quiet laugh that comes out more like a long breath. It’s enough of a laugh to hear the humor in his voice. “There’s nothing but traffic.”

“Why’d they make the roads like that?”

“Not enough space.”

“Oh.” You ponder. “That makes sense actually—being that it’s pretty much an island."

“An island, yeah.”

“An island full of traffic.”

He laughs again, breath mixing with yours. “The U.S.—it’s quite big, so you can make your roads wider. More lanes and the like.”

“Ah…”

There’s a moment of silence where just the rain pounds overhead. Silence, that dreadful thing forced upon you now. Eric’s laugh, however small and subdued, was a wonderful sound.

“What made you want to be a lawyer?”

“I dunno. I… my dad said it was a good profession to do and—and it seemed very grown up.”

“You must be very smart to get into Law School around here.”

You win another laugh out of him. “I don’t know about that.”

“No, I’m serious. They’re extremely competitive.”

“It was expensive to get in.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“What about you, are you going…” he pauses, his voice deflates a little, “…Were you going to school?”

You remain undeterred, you have to. “No, too expensive. Just working and trying to figure things out.”

“You didn’t have any plans?”

“I had plans, short-term stuff, but I’m not really a ‘plan your life out’ kinda person.”

“That actually sounds nice.”

“I’d like to think so.”

Another bout of silence. Eric is no longer sniffling; he watches you curiously.

“And your soccer teams—"

“—Football—”

Maybe he can see your teasing face in the dark, maybe he can’t. “Mm. Tomatoe, tomato. So, your soccer teams—”

“Hm, no. Football.”

“I’m not calling it football—you’re going to get me all confused.”

Eric laughs again and leans his forehead against yours. “It’s really not hard to separate them out—you’re doing this on purpose to get a rise out of me.”

“A rise? Jesus, you’re so British. Are you going to let me finish my question?”

“I’ll let you finish your question if you call them football teams.”

“You are a stubborn one. I feel like most people would have moved on by now.”

“Does that surprise you?”

You make a noise. “No, actually I like it. But anyway, Football—”

“—Thank you, darling—”

“—Hm. It’s a big deal, right?”

“Oh, huge. Did you even need to ask?”

“I guess I could have figured it out when you forced me to call it football in my own country.”

Eric’s grip on your shirt has relaxed now, his hand rests on your hip. “Is football a big deal here?”

“Football—football, or soccer—football?”

“Ah, well played. I see what you’re doing now.”

“I will make you say the word soccer.”

Somehow, he leans even closer.

“Not a chance.”

“Ha. Well, football tickets are sold out months in advance, sometimes before the season even starts, so that might answer your question.”

“They’re sold-out like that in England too.”

“But which football am I talking about, Eric?”

He snickers. “The one where they throw and kick the ball.”

“Oh, that’s very funny. Very clever.”

“I do know—”

From back in the room something creaks. Pressure on a floorboard, something moving, something big. Eric freezes. Your body goes cold.

Click-click-click.

Another couple of pounds on the ground. These are closer, you can feel the vibrations through the floor.

In the back of the apartment, leading to a bedroom, a door slowly creaks open. The rain sounds much closer now and the clicks continue, vivid and clear.

This apartment has a hole in it to the outside.

Eric is back to gripping you like his life depends on it. Your hand trembles against his skin.

Pound. Click-click-click.

The indifferent storm above sends lightning down again, as if it’s saying 'Hey, look at this'. The rapid succession of flashes gives you a view of the doorframe and the monstrous creature slinking through it.

Its body contorts and bends, long legs folding in as it fits itself into the room without disturbing anything. Scales and plates shift and move fluidly along its back. You didn’t think it was possible for it to be this nimble.

Click-click-click.

Eric, watching your tearful eyes track something over his shoulder, very carefully and very slowly starts to turn and try to get a glimpse of it. Your hand on his cheek tightens and stops him, turning him back to look at you. The message is clear as his breathing starts to quicken.

Look at me.

He purses his lips in an effort to keep from breathing through his mouth. He’s shaking as much as you are now.

The creature swings its head around in the dark, opening its face plates and clicking out. The way it opens up, the sound it makes is almost enough to make you shudder. Who knows why, but it moves toward you and Eric. Its massive silhouette stands out against the apartment’s lighter walls. You keep watching it, trembling and on the verge of tears.

The thing’s leg bumps the coffee table, and your mouth drops open at the sudden startlingly loud shriek of wood scraping against wood. Eric is quick to cover your mouth with a hand, holding you in place, keeping you quiet. He presses his mouth up against the back of his hand, trying to keep himself quiet too. Tears spill over onto your cheeks; they mix with his. Your faces are pressed together. Even though he’s terrified, he’s still gentle.

Click-click-click. Pound.

It’s so close now that those alien noises vibrate through your body. It’s so heavy that when it steps on the floorboards it almost bounces you.

And the thing smells.

It smells like death, decay, and rot. You’re never going to forget that smell as it wafts over you and permeates your clothes.

More tears fall, it’s impossible to rip your eyes away from the creature’s silhouette, it towers nearly to the ceiling in one long, thin body.

You wish more than anything that the lightning would stop. You don’t need to see it in clear detail. You don’t need to see the bits of viscera hanging from it or the dark red stains leading up its grotesque arms.

Eric’s hand moves a fraction out of the way to hold your cheek. Your eyes flash to him just as he replaces his hand with his mouth.

It’s reckless beyond measure, but the action makes you instinctually close your eyes. There’s no movement, there’s no bloom of passion, but the warmth spreads through your face. It’s an act of desperation in what may be your last moments together.

The creature’s feet pound on the floorboards again. Are they getting further away? You don’t dare open your eyes. You focus on the feeling of Eric’s mouth against yours. If this is when and how you’re going to die, you want to think about how soft his lips feel. You want to think about the way his curly hair looks as it dries into a tangled mess. How his shoulders felt under your touch and the breath of his laugh and the way his words sounded when he smiled.

It works, you almost feel at peace. It's just the feeling, the idea of it all ending any moment that keep you trembling.

But the footsteps are getting further away. The hinges of the door leading out into the complex’s hallway creak as the door is pushed open.

It’s leaving. It’s leaving.

After you can no longer feel the pounding footsteps or hear it anymore, you open your eyes again. The apartment is empty. It’s gone.

Eric is also looking around. He pulls back a little, separating your lips. The absence of warmth sends shivers down your body. And then you start trembling again, left to deal with the struggle of survival. The adrenaline, the short supply you had left, is used up—your body is suffering.

Shell shock is the first thing you think of, but Eric’s eyes catch yours and you snap back to the task at hand. Fortification. Leaving and following in that thing's footsteps would just mean a grisly death in the dark. You'd have to make due and close off all the exits.

It takes ages to sit up. There are moments when you think you hear something, only for it to be your imagination. There are moments when you question if you’re still alive.

Eric gently takes your hand; he helps you to your feet. Moving so, so slowly and carefully. It’s Eric that guides you through the next few minutes, directing you to help him move furniture in front of the door. Picking it up slowly and delicately. Closing the back door, which does indeed lead to a hole in the wall. He always stands near you; his hand guides you either by your shoulder, your hand, or your lower back.

Eric, the man you found shaking and traumatized in the rain, helps you and leads you.

Once the furniture has been moved, the apartment no longer looks like a time capsule of normality. It matches the rest of the city—disorderly and inherently wrong.

With your task complete, you lean against one of the walls, holding your mouth shut. The shaking in your legs becomes more pronounced now that you’re no longer moving. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. The dark room spins around you. Through your fingers you take small gasps of breath.

Eric knows what a panic attack looks like. What it feels like. How it cripples a person.

“It’s alright.” He breathes, as he comes over to hold the sides of your face. “We’re alright.”

Your hands reach out and cling to him, pulling him closer. His body flattens against you on the wall. His forehead leans down to yours.

“Eric…”

He lifts your face up, smoothing out your cheeks, trying to calm you down. “I’m here. Right here.”

You do the only thing you can think of. The only method true method that can dispel the thoughts of your near death. Closing the short distance between your faces, you kiss him.

This time, he moves. This time it’s not a kiss with your imminent death looming right over you; it’s relived, it’s desperate, it’s a plea to wake up your body and revive yourself.

We’re alive.

The kiss is wet, you can taste the tears on his lips as he sloppily molds them to yours. The light stubble on his face scratches you, but it hardly registers. The kiss gets increasingly desperate—you both needed this, you both wanted this. You could have died and never experienced this and now you’re making up for that.

Your fingers tangle in his still wet hair. They grab the back of his neck; they grab his shoulders as he flexes and runs his hands up and down your sides. If you pull away to take in another gasp, Eric is quick to close the distance again, forcing you to take in air through your nose.

But you’re tired beyond measure, running off nothing but pure fear and adrenaline for days and nights on end. How Eric keeps himself together after being through the same things you have is something you’d like to learn one day, but tonight—fuck, tonight you need to sit down before your legs give out.

You pull away again, trying to gasp out something. Eric’s lips chase yours, but your body has had enough finally, and you give in, sliding down the wall before he catches you. By the way your head lolls back, and your arms fall to your sides, he understands.

Always so gentle, always so caring, Eric leads you back to the blanket and lays you down in his arms. Pressing your face into his collar, you feel just safe enough that you might be able to sleep. Exhaustion pulls at your consciousness, but images of the hideous alien are vividly playing out in your mind’s eye.

Only Eric’s voice, barely above a breath, but warm in your ear is enough to soothe you. He murmurs about how you’ll both be on the boats tomorrow. Tomorrow, you’ll be safe. Everything will be ok tomorrow. He peppers your forehead with light kisses in between words.

Before your world fades into nothingness, you stretch up to kiss him under his jaw. The last thing you hear is his quiet sigh.

Eric didn’t sleep much that night, too busy making a plan in his head to get you both to the south st. seaport. If he had to carry you, he would. He would do anything for you. And if this all somehow turned into a happy ending, then he would be right next to you to share it, to see you smile again, to hear you tease him.

If it doesn’t, then he has to find a way to kiss you one more time before the end.

[luveline]

I love your writing sm!!! would you be willing to do something with Spencer where he calms reader down from a nightmare ? thank u so much!!! have a good day ❤️

thank you sm! ♡ gn!reader

cw drug use mentioned

In the dream, Spencer lives. 

Surprisingly. So many of your dreams are made of his demise. In one dream he gets killed in a cemetery, crying and alone and strapped to a chair. In another, a needle stays stuck to the crook of his arms as he slips into a too-heavy sleep. Sometimes he dies bleeding out from his leg, other times he makes it to the hospital long enough to feel the building crumble beneath him. 

You wouldn't want Spencer to stop telling you things, but every ragged chapter of his life acts as nightmare fuel. Every sentence, every line. Here he's lonely. Here he's afraid. 

Here, despite everything, he's alive, because this is the dream where you die first. 

You die like the snap of a firecracker hitting the ground and find yourself inverted, flinching up where gunpowder spilled down, your hand knocking into the soft of Spencer's stomach as you gasp for air. You're dead. You're dead, and Spencer's alone, and no one is going to look after him now. 

"Y/N?" His voice. The plastic and wood scrape as he grabs his glasses and shoves them on. "What? What's hurting?" 

You put your hand over your heart and will it to stop pounding so hard. It aches like a new bruise. 

"Baby," Spencer says softly, curling his arm behind the small of your back. He pulls your bodies together, tucking the sheets up your legs again with the other. 

"Bad dream," you say, wishing you'd woken crying. At least then you'd know what the emotion is under all your abject panic. 

"Just breathe… just breathe." He takes a slow, deliberate breath for you to follow. When he speaks, it's calm as the summer sea. "Another one. I'm sorry, you've had a lot of these lately, huh?" Spencer brings the hand furthest from you to your cheek, encouraging your cheek against his chin. "You want to tell me about it?" 

"I died." 

It must surprise him. For once, he doesn't have anything to say immediately. He turns his face in to kiss you, not fussy about where his lips fall. A slow, steadying kiss. 

"Those ones are some of the hardest," he says sympathetically. 

"I didn't… it didn't even matter. I hit my head and I woke up. But I…" How to explain it? "Spence, there was this split second where I thought I left you alone." 

"Don't worry about me," he says.

"But I do worry about you. I know you can look after yourself better, but– but people have let you down. I've let you down." 

Spencer's smile is audible, a lilt to the dulcet murmur he presses into your hair, "You're the last person I'd say let me down... You know, nightmares aren't scientifically quantifiable, there's no statistical data on what it means to have a bad dream, but. There are hundreds of thousands of books about it, and more than you'd think tend to agree that after you've had one, the fear remains. Like a bad cell. You can't remember it and it sticks around despite it." 

You wait for the silver lining. 

"So?" you ask. 

He chuckles quietly. "So, I know it sucks, but it's a good thing that you remembered it. Want me to tell you what the books say?" 

"About what it means?" you ask. 

"They say it's transitional. You're saying goodbye to something. Starting a new chapter." 

Spencer turns your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. Dead morning light floods the room like a splash of milk into tea, illuminating the small apples of his cheeks, the thick triangles of his lashes behind his glasses' lenses. He looks woefully handsome considering the hour, and, to your relief, he's completely unafraid. 

"Just don't say goodbye to me, okay?" he whispers.

You nod, fatigue pressing on your shoulders. 

Spencer gives you a quick, dotting kiss. "Thank you. Let's go back to sleep, yeah? Lay down." 

You curl up under his arm. His hand takes loop on your shoulder, drawing lazy, meandering circles until you're falling into a much quieter crop of sleep. 

[augustpoem]

you think i'd crumble? you think i'd lay down and die? yeah that sounds like me

[samsgff]

CHAPTER 3!!

"do you think he's actually telling the truth?" one of the vampires asked.

"eh maybe i say let's wake him up" the other replied excitedly.

"are you out of your mind Mother told us not to lay a finger on him without her say so" the younger vampire added.

"oh come on she won't know" the oldest answered with a smirk. And with a simple snap of a finger Dean Winchester was awake again, this time more petrified than ever, since he realized that he was in fact not dreaming and that no one is coming to rescue him from that hell hole he's been stuck in for forty eight hours.

"so is it true? that you're not a hunter?" The question echoed in his ears as his thoughts kept spiraling around, a hunter? why do they think im a hunter? is this a dream? am i dreaming? did i die? the more he asked himself questions the more it felt like the air was being sucked out of the room, right out of his lungs, his heart beating faster with each passing minute as his hands slowly started feeling numb-

"hello?? i am talking to you??" the vampire added as she flicked his forehead.

"im im not" he muttered.

"oh really? so the name sam winchester doesn't mean a thing to you?" she knew exactly what she was doing.

"sam?" he replied confused. The name seemed familiar yet so strange it's as if something was blocking his mind from comprehending it.

"yeah big bad tall sam winchester with his puppy doe eyes and long brown hair ugh i really wish we had gotten him instead of you but oh well" the creature mumbled while twirling her hair.

This sentence really hit him like a brick.

He could sense this sam winchester clearly meant something to him or at least to those evil monsters but he couldn't put his finger on it-

and the more he thought about it the more his headache increased since the wall Castiel had built up for him was slowly crumbling each time someone mentioned the name "Sam Winchester"

"Didn't i tell you not to wake him up??" Raven shouted from the back.

"this was all her doing!!" Bethany the oldest pointed at the youngest vampire.

And without hesitation Raven pulled Bethany's heart with her bare hands.

"i never really liked her anyways" She added as she licked the blood off her fingers before tracing them all over Dean's traumatized face.

"what what do you want from me?" the winchester spoke out with tears storming down his face, whilst his chin trembled like a toddler.

"oh my poor little Dean, i want nothing from you...well except from the blood pumping through your veins of course" she exclaimed smoothly.

"please just let me go please" Dean cried out.

"shh now go to sleep and it will all be over soon" Raven whispered.

°•°•°•°•°

Bobby and Castiel were desperately waiting for some sort of sign, any sign that could guide them to Dean, they couldn't handle losing both of the winchesters or for Bobby's case the three of them.

"This is driving me insane" Bobby sighed as he took a shot from his beer.

"Im sure something will turn up soon" Castiel added trying to reassure the old man, knowing damn well that if he hadn't suggested to wipe Dean's memory he wouldn't have disappeared.

Few minutes of silent went by before the phone rang.

"Singer" Bobby spoke loudly.

"Hey Bobby it's me Rufus i think i just found the car of your missing buddy" the other hunter informed him.

"Are you sure it's the Impala?" Bobby asked with a glimpse of hope.

"Yeah i think so- it's abandoned and in the middle of nowhere" Rufus affirmed.

"Alright tell me the location and I'll be right there" the old man answered.

"I can get us there fast" The angel proposed.

"No I'd rather take the ca-" Before he even got the chance to finish his sentence he found himself right next to the impala.

"you annoy me you know that right?" he uttered.

"i think the car wasn't originally here" Rufus stated.

"you think?" Bobby inquired.

"yeah i think so too" Castiel agreed.

"i can't sense Dean ever being in this region yet i feel like he's close at the same time i can't quite explain it" he added confused.

"Let's get to work then" The hunters stated.

After a few more hours of interrogating locals, the three rescuers narrowed Dean's location to two different spots.

"Which one do you think it is?" Rufus asked.

"Cas what does your mojo tell you" Bobby inquired in a slightly sarcastic tone.

"i think we should check out the barn first" the angel proposed.

°•°•°•°

"ugh he tastes so good" Raven moaned.

"You know I'll miss him once he's gone" she told her youngest who was still in shock.

"oh come on cheer up and have a taste" she offered holding Dean's head up by his bloody matted hair.

As the other one got closer to finally taste the delicious fresh taste of a Wincheste's blood, she got interrupted by a loud bang coming from their right and before she even got the chance to know what it was, her head flew across the room like a bowling ball.

"Get away from my son you blood sucking creature" Bobby shouted as he barged into the room.

Her loud laugh echoed through the emtpy barnhouse making everyone wince at the annoying noise "you want him?" she asked taunting "then come got what's left of him you human weakling" she finished off with a cocky smile as she wiped off the leftover blood from the corner of her mouth.

Bobby's eyes widened as he saw Dean's lifeless body being held up by the rusted metal chain's, dropping everything he ran as fast as he can towards him while cas and rufus took care of the bitch.

Bobby unchained his now only son and held him close to his body with his tired eyes welling with tears

"Dean- hey wake up wake up boy" he stuttered

"come on i know you're still here come on" he cried harder.

Few seconds of silent passed by, before Dean slightly opened his eyes... and Bobby's face lit up with a tiny smile.

"hey hey you're okay" the old man tried comforting his injured son while trying to believe it himself.

"who's sam?" Dean mumbled weakly before passing out again.

[cawthorntales]

Moonwood Cove 1861

~

I was sixteen when my world changed forever. Over the years clashes with werewolf hunter got more and more frequent and bloody. The Green pack in Sunset Acres was almost entirely wiped out by a coalition of hunter calling themselves the Butchers. The summer I turned sixteen they managed to capture my dad, Francine, Olvier, Beota and Debra .

With my father captured it meant I was alpha. I knew dad would want me to move the pack and lay low. He always said the pack comes first. A lesson he had drilled into me in every alpha training session we had through out my childhood. But he was my dad. I couldn't just leave him and the others to die. The pack agreed.

Myself and twenty pack members went to rescue our stolen family. While my mom and brother lead the rest to our emergency hiding zone.

*

We arrived and began our attack on the hunter compound. The battle was hard fought, but we managed to defeat the Butchers and rescue my dad and the only other survivor Francine, but the rescue and victory came at a great great cost.

*

"Because of you sixteen members of the pack are gone!" My dad roared not hiding the anger and disappointment in his voice.

"I-I'm sorry. We wanted to save you and the others from the hunters. I-I never wanted this to happen." I cried still trying to keep the blood out of my eyes from where a wolves bane laced dagger had slashed down my face. I knew the wound would never heal and would leave a scar. A permanent reminder of that awful day.

"No you wanted to save me. As the alpha in charge in my absence it was your job to keep the pack safe. It didn't matter if they wanted to help me or the others. It was your job to do what was best for the entire pack. Instead you were reckless and sentimental. Those are not things I taught you Grayson!"

"D-dad I'm sorry. I-"

"No Grayson. Sorry doesn't and can't fix this. You're were an alpha, meant to lead the pack. You were to put your emotions aside and protect the others. I don't know where I went wrong in teaching you. You've disappointed me. You're no son of mine."

"Dad y-you can't mean that." I cried trying to hold the tears back as my world crumbled.

"I do mean it. See even now you're letting your emotions win. A leader needs to know when to hold it in. From this moment on you're exiled from the pack and our territory. This is goodbye Grayson. What a waste of effort on your teaching and training. I underestimated your ability to be an alpha. You're too soft to do what is best for everyone. I don't want to see you again. You've done enough damage to the pack with your carelessness."

"I'm your son!"

"That's the only reason you're leaving with your life after what you did. Now go Grayson and stay away."

"What about mom and Silver?"

"They'll understand why I am doing this. They understand that the pack as a whole comes first and what it means to lead. Now go!"

I bolted. As I ran the tears streaming down my face, I turned around to get one last look at my father knowing I'd never see him or my mom, or my little brother again. Nothing would ever be the same again. I had lost everything I had ever known and everyone who had ever mattered to me.

~~

Writer notes: Pretend Grayson's scar is fresh and bloody. I can't edit pictures and I found no cc to match the vision I hade.

If you would like to enter now adult Grayson's bc set in modern times here is the info link https://www.tumblr.com/cawthorntales/753141690978713600?

And if you are thinking to yourself this prologue was in the 1800s how is he in modern times. In my world building werewolves eventually stop age and can only die if killed by wolves bane weapons. Kind of like how vampires work, but not the same methods of death

[saintmeghanmarkle]

"And so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free...Just turn around now you're not welcome anymore..." I like to imagine KC belting out I Will Survive on BP's balcony. This is a great rendition. I'm singing along with Gloria as I write. Feel free to join in! by u/Positive-Vibes-2-All

"And so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free...Just turn around now you're not welcome anymore..." I like to imagine KC belting out I Will Survive on BP's balcony. This is a great rendition. I'm singing along with Gloria as I write. Feel free to join in! Given H's arrival to zero onlookers the video is priceless as it's shot from a moving car driving through empty streets.https://youtu.be/X6R6xP6nxOk​​At first I was afraid, I was petrifiedKept thinking I could never live without you by my sideBut then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrongAnd I grew strongAnd I learned how to get alongAnd so you're backFrom outer spaceI just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your faceI should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your keyIf I'd known for just one second you'd be back to bother me Go on now, go, walk out the doorJust turn around now'Cause you're not welcome anymoreWeren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?You think I'd crumble?You think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I, I will surviveOh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay aliveI've got all my life to liveAnd I've got all my love to give and I'll surviveI will survive, hey, hey It took all the strength I had not to fall apartKept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heartAnd I spent oh-so many nights just feeling sorry for myselfI used to cryBut now I hold my head up high and you see meSomebody newI'm not that chained-up little person still in love with youAnd so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be freeWell, now I'm saving all my lovin' for someone who's loving me Go on now, go, walk out the doorJust turn around now'Cause you're not welcome anymoreWeren't you the one who tried to break me with goodbye?You think I'd crumble?You think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I, I will surviveOh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay aliveI've got all my life to liveAnd I've got all my love to give and I'll surviveI will survive OhGo on now, go, walk out the doorJust turn around now'Cause you're not welcome anymoreWeren't you the one who tried to break me with goodbye?You think I'd crumble?You think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I, I will surviveOh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay aliveI've got all my life to liveAnd I've got all my love to give and I'll surviveI will surviveI will survive post link: https://ift.tt/YtMjw9C author: Positive-Vibes-2-All submitted: May 07, 2024 at 07:27PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; I'M DOING IT AGAIN BABY! by girl in red (Part I)

I'M BACK

I'm back.

I feel like myself.

I was gone for a minute 'cause I went to get help.

It's not like I wanna die.

I love being alive.

I was feeling so inadequate.

Didn't think I'd make it this far.

I'm better than ever.

Life's so good when you're as light as a feather.

Living life in grey did something to my brain.

But, hey, I took a shower today.

It's not the end of the world.

Time doesn't stop for a sad little girl.

I believe it'll pass.

I believe there's hope for me.

It's right around the corner, that good life I always wanted.

I think that I can see it now.

This is what they're talking about.

It's easy to get caught in the state of being lost.

This time I think I'm found.

I wouldn't go without it, the ups and downs and what-ifs.

It's all a part of being alive.

DOING IT AGAIN BABY

I'm on a new level.

Something's got me feeling like I could be inflammable, and I might be.

Nothing's gonna stop me

Looking like a rock star from the Seventies.

I had a premonition.

What? Get outta my way.

Got my Ray-Bans on and I'm rolling with the boys.

Having all this swagger was never a choice.

This '99 Vintage has impeccable taste.

I'm loving this new self-esteem.

I'm doing it again, baby

TOO MUCH

Don't you just love to kill the light in my eyes?

It’s just a joke.

Please, don't say I'm too much.

You don't understand me.

We're so different at heart.

You're on Earth, I'm on Mars.

All I ever wanted was your love.

I toned myself down for you.

You always found a way to bring me down.

You trivialized everything.

It’s like you're scared of anything real.

For a second I thought you were sincere.

You’ve been dragging me down all of these years.

You go through life like you're on a fucking runway.

This throwin' shade is so passé.

Forever is unlikely for us.

House always wins, so I'm taking all my love back.

With you, I lose either way.

You think I'm weird when I get too excited.

I think it's weird how you're so empty-minded.

But I still keep tryin'.

PHANTOM PAIN

Why you gotta lead me on?

Your love is like a rose's thorn.

I wish I never met you in the first place.

You're a con.

You're an angel

You look so sweet, but you're not though.

I never knew how good it could be until you swept me off my feet.

I really didn't notice the heart on my sleeve.

I think I got invested in you and me.

But who cares when it's fate?

You got me off quickly, but it was too late.

I was already hooked with phantom pains.

Nothing left for me to do but lay around and think of you.

I adore every part of your face.

I truly believe we're meant to be.

I never knew how good it could be until you brought me to my knees.

Let me love you.

Love me.

I'll love you if you let me.

I love you.

YOU NEED ME NOW?

I wanna say all bad things end.

Right now, I'm not convinced.

You're swinging right back like a pendulum, babe.

Acting like you never left in the first place.

Can you get it in your brain?

I'm not playing your games this time.

Don't tell me you need me now.

I've heard it before.

I'm tired of waiting around, letting you let me down.

I'm done being yours.

I was secondary to everything.

I've never been so insignificant.

You're stripped of love and it's evident.

You'll always be a setback.

Next to you, I was crumbling.

You wrecked it all and it's sinking in.

So you want my sympathy now?

Don't you think I recognize how you behave?

Those tears are so fake.

I won't fall for that face this time.

You made heartbreak look elegant.

Abused me with intelligence.

I could have sworn you were heaven-sent.

I'll be somewhere by myself in Hawaii.

Your talk is cheap, all you do is leave.

I'm sick of your schemes.

You're such a disease.

I'm never beggin' for love again, baby.

[mad3lyncline]

𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑬 𝑬𝑳𝑰𝒁𝑨𝑩𝑬𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 . starters from the 2020 ep 'cape elizabeth' by noah kahan .

𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅

if you could see it through my eyes , you'd understand my fear of everything in sight .

i'd quickly sell my heart for some advice on how to ease a troubled mind .

my brain's a dog asleep that i cannot let lie .

cloudy head but i can't find a single silver lining .

guess there is no hope for me in sight to ease this troubled mind .

i worry for the sun , oh i worry for the snow .

i worry i'll die young while i worry i'll grow old .

i worry for the time i spent worrying alone .

i took a bus down to the city where you live .

the past just amplified my fear .

i started counting all the times i saw you last year .

you were sadly making sense .

𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅

i think i found a fear of mine ; that you might love for no reason .

you know i worry only luck brought me to you .

i'm half awake most of the time .

it's just the timing of the seasons .

you know i worry that you're all i have to lose .

i should change this way of thinking ; that all my fears are facts of life .

i could die tomorrow ; you'd be close behind .

i live my life in years to come to prepare myself for sorrow .

i won't worry when i crumble at your feet .

it's something sinister to love without regard for dear tomorrow .

to search for worry is to love without deceit .

𝒈𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒕

you used to be scared of the water .

you're safe by the side of your father .

your sense of the world lay in your little home by the harbor .

you've always felt small in the city .

you think that last fall you were with me .

all of your old clothes are still in the hall of my building .

you never asked once .

you never asked why .

you'd wear yourself thin and accept every sin .

if i glue myself shut , you would find your way in .

we gambled our souls to the summer .

we watched every sunset until we got sick of each other .

you've always said fall was your season .

it only feels real after raining .

hearts only heal after breaking .

i stare at the tree line and notice the leaves aren't changing .

does the wind blow in cape elizabeth ?

love was a deadline ; spend the rest of my life fuckin' missing it .

𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒂𝒚

you've made a mess .

honey don't worry ; nobody's angry at any of this .

darling , be patient . stare into the vacancy . take a deep breath .

it's like when you're tired you're someone else .

honey don't worry ; i'll do your laundry , covered in dirt .

it's easy to break beneath the weight of the earth .

i'll wait for sharp glass when you break .

i'll be the light that you can't make .

i'll be your eyes ; you be my face .

darling , i get scared for you .

i'm not busy anyway .

today you looked older than me .

does it get exhausting ? have you gotten sleep ?

you said you were sorry that you hadn't called me in over a week .

i hope i ain't the last of what the world left you .

𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆

was your soul rediscovered ? was your heart rearranged ?

are you still taking pills in the morning ?

did you lose that longing now ?

this town's just an ocean now .

you don't hate the summers ; you're just afraid of the space .

i miss this place , your head , and your heart .

my dad still tells me when they're playing your songs .

if only baby there were cameras in the traffic lights ; they'd make me a star .

i wanna go to maine .

tell me , lover , once you've had a change of heart .

we're no more than the fossils at crescent beach state park .

used to sing along to church bells on sundays .

can you even hear 'em from the subway now ?

i hope that we make you proud .

[swottydoodler]

Hi there, I'm absolutely new to this so I'm not sure if this is the appropriate channel, but I'd love to commission you for a piece of fanart for my oneshot. I think your style is perfection and I think it would work so well for the cute little Karaoke scenes.

I apologize if this is not the right way to ask, I just really love your art! 💖

Have a great new year!

Here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696453

And an excerpt in case you're interested:

Finally, she gave in to Ginny’s request to choose a break-up song to get over that sex accident with Draco. But singing “I will survive” demurely didn’t really work and so eventually she belted from the top of her lungs: “Go on now, go, walk out the door. Just turn around now 'Cause you're not welcome anymore. Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? You think I'd crumble? You think I'd lay down and die?”

When she opened her eyes, she found Luna clapping away on a tambourine and Ginny pointing Hermione’s own phone at her.

Oh, that's definitely interesting!! Although I advice to those who are interested in commissions to just send me a DM and I'll get back to you with more info🖤🖤

[snowywolf1005]

TOBIO KAGEYAMA X HISPANIC SINGER READER TIMESKIP

Note: You're hispanic and a singer like selena quintanilla. In Karasuno, you join the volleyball managers club, you understand Japanese little. When you first meet kageyama, let just say kageyama was in love with you.

But he doesn't know how to, I love you in spanish, your brother taught him how to say it. The karasuno was in love with your singing in spanish like the whole school, you can sing in English, spanish, and Japanese. And your dream is to sing the whole world.

"I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE (Y/N) (L/N) !!!!!", "YEAH, I KNOW!!!! SHE WAS MY FAVORITE SINGER!!!!!".

"I HEARD SHE MARRED VOLLEYBALL NAMED TOBIO KAGEYAMA!!" Said one of the girls.

Are you wearing the best outfit, by your friend yachi. You quit scared, and you hope kageyama will come and see you so as the other.

Your outfit:

As walk out. All the crowd was cheering for you. As walk om stage. "¿Cómo estás en Japón?" (How you doin japan?) You said. And sing disco medley.

🎶First, I was afraid, I was petrified.🎶

🎶Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side.🎶

🎶But then I spent so many nights, just thinking how you did me wrong.🎶

🎶And I grew strong. And I learned how to get along. And now you're back.🎶

🎶from outer space🎶

🎶Don't turn around, 'cause you're not welcome anymore.🎶

🎶Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?🎶

🎶Did you think I'd crumble?🎶

🎶Did you think I'd lay down and die?🎶

🎶Now go now go, walk out the door.🎶

🎶Don't turn around now 'cause you're not welcome anymore.🎶

🎶Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?🎶

🎶Did you think I'd crumble?🎶

🎶Did you think I'd lay down and die?🎶

🎶Now go now go, walk out the door.🎶

🎶Don't turn around now 'cause you're not welcome anymore.🎶

🎶Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?🎶

🎶Did you think I'd crumble?🎶

🎶Did you think I'd lay down, die?🎶

🎶Oh no, not I.🎶

🎶I will survive.🎶

🎶As long as I know how to love.🎶

🎶I know I'll stay alive.🎶

🎶I've got all my life to live.🎶

🎶I've got all my love to give.🎶

🎶I will survive, I will survive.🎶

🎶Hey, hey.🎶

"¡Todos de pie, vámonos! ¡Todo mundo! ¡Eso!(Everyone stands up. Let's go! Everyone! That!)"

🎶Talk about, talk about, talk about, talk about it.🎶

🎶Talk about it, talk about it, talk about movin'.🎶

🎶Gotta move on🎶

🎶Gotta move on🎶

🎶Gotta move on🎶

🎶Won't you take me to Funky Town?🎶

🎶Won't you take me to Funky Town?🎶

🎶Won't you take me to Funky Town?🎶

🎶Won't you take me to Funky Town?🎶

"Let me hear you, japan, American, México!"

Everybody screams and shouts your name.

🎶Last dance🎶

🎶Last dance🎶

🎶For love🎶

🎶Yeah, it's my last chance🎶

🎶For romance tonight🎶

🎶Oh-oh, I need you🎶

🎶By me🎶

🎶Beside me🎶

🎶To guide me🎶

🎶To hold me🎶

🎶To scold me🎶

🎶'Cause when I'm bad🎶

🎶I'm so, so bad🎶

🎶So let's dance🎶

🎶The last dance🎶

🎶So let's dance🎶

🎶The last dance🎶

🎶So let's dance🎶

🎶The last dance🎶

🎶Tonight🎶

🎶Last dance🎶

🎶Last dance🎶

🎶For love🎶

🎶Yeah!🎶

🎶Yes, it's my last chance🎶

🎶For romance tonight🎶

🎶Oh-oh, I need you🎶

🎶By me🎶

🎶Beside me🎶

🎶To guide me🎶

🎶To hold me🎶

🎶To scold me🎶

🎶'Cause when I'm bad🎶

🎶I'm so, so bad🎶

🎶So let's dance🎶

🎶The last dance🎶

🎶So let's dance🎶

🎶The last dance🎶

🎶So let's dance🎶

🎶The last dance🎶

🎶Tonight🎶

🎶Do the Hustle🎶

You dance:

"Break it down, let me hear some gritos¡Vámonos!Bailale, Bailale¡Echale!¡Za!Baila, baila¡Za!¡Vámonos!(Let's go! Dance him, dance him! Kick him out! Za!Dance Dance! Za! Let's go!)"

Your dance again:

🎶Someone found the letter you wrote me on the radio🎶

🎶And it said exactly how you felt🎶

🎶It must've fallen out of the hole🎶

🎶In your old brown overcoat🎶

🎶It never said a name, but I knew🎶

🎶Who they meant🎶

🎶Woah, oh-oh🎶

🎶I was so surprised and shocked🎶

🎶And I wondered, too🎶

🎶If by chance you heard it for yourself🎶

🎶I never told a soul just how I've been🎶

🎶Feeling over you🎶

🎶But they said it really loud🎶

🎶They said it on the air🎶

🎶On the radio, oh-oh-oh🎶

🎶On the radio, oh-oh-oh🎶

🎶On the radio, oh-oh-oh🎶

🎶On the radio, Woah, oh-oh🎶

🎶On the radio!🎶

You finish the song. Everybody cheers.

At somewhere else:

"YOU SEE THAT!! SHE WAS AMAZING!!!" hinata yelled with his team.

"All man! She grew up so fast!" Said sugawara crying. at elementary school. With kids watching show (Y/N) show, wearing pictures of you singing.

As you finished singing, everyone, what your autograph and take pictures of you with them. As you walked, you see kageyama. You ran up to him and kissed him on the lips, everybody was shocked.

So, as fans watch you on TV (and hinata, sugawara, daichi, Tanaka, yachi, and everybody of haikyuu characters)

THE END

[chounaifu]

What does your muse think of mine?

@reiketsui :

we don't talk about it. that had been the first line of the wordless pact defining this situationship from the start. as long as everything was kept inside locked doors, there was nothing there that could keep me awake at night. no dead body to bury under the floorboards of the hotel room where we take each other apart – no pretending like we don't see the single bullet shot on its forehead. it turned from a simple convenience to a dizzying inconvenience, from nuisance to a blessing, from nonchalance to obsession that burns like molten lava in my veins. we both know it's here, yet it's never talked about. would ignorance be a bliss? it's difficult to recognize the person i become with you. i fear one night i will say it without thinking. i can imagine the scenario. you drop by unannounced again, and we end up in bed tangled in each other's arms. i'm foolish enough to let go of yet another inhibition, only to realize there isn't any left. suddenly, the restraint isn't there, and i should be horrified by the realization. instead, i take the only chance i get in this lifetime. i love you. i love you. i love you. but you already know.

You fucking idiot.

You stupid fucking bastard.

You've ruined me in ways that I would allow again and again. You've made it impossible to hide around you; there's nothing that you don't know about me, you understand every inch of my body and my psyche so intimately, it makes me feel sick to my stomach at times.

Sick because, I constantly wonder if you will continue to dig through my cranium until you are eroded by the same ichor that drips from it. You scold me for having no self-preservation instinct, but it was you who was ready to lay your life down for all of us on that suicide mission in Goldenrod.

I hate how much you force me to worry about mortality.

You were an unmoving, unshakable entity made of ice, far from human, feeling NOTHING, indestructible, until I saw you plugged into the same machines that kept me alive in the infirmary. I can't stand to look at almost any psychic type now because of that incident. You're mortal, you're physically mortal even though my brain assigned the role of 'god' when I decided that I hated you, and that scares me, because mortal men can die. And if you lose your life, that means I've failed to protect you. That means I've broken my promise.

You know the one.

Or maybe you were too delirious and over-exhausted to remember what I told you when you were crumbled against your desk. It'd been days since you'd seen sunlight. Did you think you didn't deserve to feel it on your skin until you punished yourself for every mistake you didn't actually make? I hate that you make me worry so god damn much.

It's not that I don't think you can handle yourself.

It's that I can't handle the thought of you dropping dead if I have anything to say about it.

Because nobody else gets me like you.

Nobody else knows me like you.

You saw me become a fucking monster and it brought you closer to me.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Don't you realize I could kill you?

Don't you realize how badly I wanted to for so long?

Because if I took your last breathe myself, nobody else would have the privilege. Nobody else would be able to hurt you. Nobody else would force you to be Atlas ever again.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I'd kill for you.

You're mine.

Don't leave me.

[rriavian]

Lemon balm-- sympathy. "Oh no. We aren't as different as I thought."

For Hobrinthian! :)

I had two different ideas for this but forgot one of them until I'd scrolled through my notes in my phone. Still! I hope you enjoy. This is actually part of a larger fic I'm writing but does (or should) make sense as a standalone. This is also so so rough but I keep staring at it and not changing anything so I need to just post it. This is a new pairing for me and I’m a little nervous but I hope you like it! :)

Lemon balm-- sympathy. "Oh no. We aren't as different as I thought."

-

1689

-

The less said about that year the better. 

But what Hob will say is this. 

The years leading up to that meeting could have been far far different, but even though Hob has been ignoring him since Eleanor died the Corinthian doesn’t let the mob drown him.

Somehow he knows—another instance of that same strange preternatural awareness that has befuddled Hob for centuries—has learned the townsfolks plans in time to thwart them. The result is that the Corinthian storms into his house before they arrive, ignores Hob’s alarmed shout as he drags him from it by a fistful of his hair and shoves him into a carriage waiting nearby. An explanation comes then, stilted, clipped, and then the Corinthian is half climbing inside just as Hob gathers his wits enough to stutter out an almost unintelligible plea for one last memento, the pictures he always carries not enough, there something else he doesn’t want to be lost in that house.

The Corinthian growls.

For a moment Hob fears he won’t listen—something feral in the baring of his teeth, the half snarl so familiar even twisted in anger—the golden blond of his hair turned white by the light of the moon. It glances off the lenses of the glasses too, refracts, turns them into eyes that gleam in the dark like a silver mirror of Hob’s Stranger. Then the Corinthian turns away, shoves backwards from the carriage as if needing to release tension, storms back to the house, returns far quicker than Hob thought he would. A small box is tossed his way with a sneer, an expression that remains as the Corinthian sits down opposite him without saying a single word.

Instead he raps sharply on the wood to signal they are ready to depart.

The sudden lurch into jolting movements is not so destabilising as this, as sitting opposite this unchanged creature Hob has known for two hundred years and trying not to shudder under his glare.

For a long time Hob doesn’t dare speak, has to adjust to this first, to the weight of whatever the Corinthian really is rearing out of the luring guise he wears. There is no sensual smirk obscuring it, no seduction here; Hob thinks that seething anger has never been so well communicated as in this stillness, as in how he’s being watched like prey to be culled instead of kept. It’s silence laying like a shroud, an imposition of the Corinthian’s will, but as Hob adjusts to it he thinks that, unlike the Stranger, this quiet is not quite in his gift.

It’s effective but it isn’t quite so natural.

And Hob still has time for jokes.

“Thanks for not letting me die.” He says wryly; hesitates, wonders if that sounded too glib, thinks of the box clutched in his hands and adds. “I would have been fine you know.”

“Be grateful they did not plan to try and burn you,” The Corinthian says softly; the first words he’s spoken since that curt explanation, both a stinging rebuke and an odd sort of rapture in his rolling tone, an almost longing in the picture he paints with words. “I may have been tempted to allow that.”

Hob can’t help but shudder at the very thought. 

Then he opens his mouth to reply and is immediately cut off.

“Sulking for eighty odd years like a fool. Crumbling after barely three hundred years of life. You’d have deserved it if they had.” The Corinthian continues viciously, disgusted, repulsed as if he considers Hob’s admittedly pathetic state contagious. “I could have left you to die, to resurrect with the lesson still choking your lungs, allowed you to continue this pathetic cycle until you finally broke. But—“

This time the stillness makes Hob shiver.

The Corinthian’s expression is unreadable in a different way than usual.

There is an almost softness in the lines of his face, lurking in the corners of his mouth, an almost pain. Hob remembers that the Corinthian had known Eleanor too, remembers two hundred years of encounters, of being shoved down onto a bed and held there. Sometimes Hob had been the one doing the shoving. He remembers the Stranger’s question in 1589, his affront at not being asked for permission, how the Corinthian had come to him slyly that evening and laughed when Hob had glared at him because why didn’t you warn me.

“But?” Hob asks.

The expression begins to sour, some of the almost softness fading from view.

“You are his too.”

A scowl. 

“So start acting like it.”

[uberhood]

"Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die?

"No, not I, I will survive!! Oh as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive--"

[starringvincentprice]

🎧 haiii Jordan <3

Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?

Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die?

I Will Survive • Gloria Gaynor

Send me a 🎧 and I will put my music on shuffle and give you a song and my favourite lyric from it!

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: October 23, 1978

Lyrics:

At first I was afraid, I was petrified

Thinking I could live without you by my side

And after spending nights

Thinking how you did me wrong

I grew strong

And I learned how to get along

Now you're back

From outer space

And I find you here

With that sad look upon your face

I should've changed that stupid lock

Or made you leave your key

If I'd've known for a second

You'd be back to bother me

Go on, go, walk out the door

Turn around now

You're not welcome anymore

You're the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye

Think I'd crumble?

You think I'd lay down and die?

No, not I, I will survive

Long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive

I've got my life to live

And all my love to give and

I will survive

I, I, I will survive

It took all my strength not to fall apart

Trying with all my might to mend my broken heart

I spent so many nights feeling sorry for myself

How I cried

But now I hold my head up high

And you see me, somebody new

I'm not that lonely little person

Still in love with you

Now you come droppin' in

Expectin' me to be free

Now I'm saving my lovin'

For someone who's loving me

Go on and go, walk out the door

Turn around now

You're not welcome anymore

You're the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye

Thinkin' I'd crumble

Did you think I'd lay down and die?

No, not I, I will survive

Long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive

I've got my life to live, and all my love to give

And I will survive

I, I will survive

Go on, go, walk out the door

Turn around now

You're not welcome anymore

You're the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye

Think I'd crumble?

You think I'd lay down and die?

Songwriter:

No, not I, I will survive

Long as I know how to love

I know I'll stay alive

I've got my life to live

And all my love to give and

I will survive

I, I, I will survive

Frederick J. Perren / Dino Fekaris

SongFacts:

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Homepage:

Gloria Gaynor