mostly, i want to be kind

grey. 27. wolf.

[kafk-a]

Mary Oliver

[aqua-regia009]

A howling wolf - Philip R. Goodwin

[perfeqt]

I’m homesick all the time … I just don’t know where home is. There’s this promise of happiness out there. I know it. I even feel it sometimes. But it’s like chasing the moon - just when I think I have it, it disappears into the horizon.

Sarah Addison Allen (via perfeqt)

[promptsareus-blog1]

For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses.

[grey-everette]

noraryker​:

Nora curses and pulls her torn glove off, scowling viciously at the blood welling up from her palm. She hadn’t been paying attention - too caught up in the day’s events to spot the snow-covered rock in her path. She’d stumbled over it, throwing up her right hand to steady herself on a nearby tree. She might have kept her footing, but she’d been unlucky enough to grab a jagged branch, slicing open her palm through her glove. Glaring down at the red seeping from the gash, she’s unable to stop the overwhelming feeling of heartache that’d been building on her for days.

Her P.I. couldn’t give her answers, the police were growing tired of her constant badgering, and the longer she spent in this town, the more Nora felt like she was losing her mind. Do any of you even care? She’d finally exploded earlier at the lead detective, shouting so loudly that every single eye in the precinct landed on her before storming off. She’d hoped that hiking in the forest would give her a moment of reprieve, but Nora couldn’t seem to escape bad luck even there. 

The sight of blood dripping onto the white snow catches her attention, shaking her into action. Nora pulls the first aid kit out of her ranger pack, kneeling down in the snow to wrap her hand. It isn’t too deep a cut, and the stinging keeps her mind focused on the task at hand instead of the futility of her mission. For a brief moment, she’s almost grateful for it despite her earlier annoyance. That is until she notices the wolf. 

Fuck me.

The moment they realize the smell is human they stop short. She’s not pack. She’s not even  friend. She is something less than that and if it weren’t for the dribble of crimson blood from her hand Grey would probably have turned and run. The fact that she is hurt is a little bit of comfort. Hurt things don’t chase. They just snap and bite until you leave. And anyway she doesn’t smell like metal or gunpowder. And the longer they stand there, feet tapping uncertainty in the ground as they’re torn between pushing forward and fleeing, the more familiar she becomes.

She still isn’t friend but she is something. They’ve smelled her before, seen her before, not in the forest and not often, but enough that they can recognize her even on four legs. Two-leg memories come back warped and distilled into the most striking bits. She is smiling at them. They’re in a human building and it smells like ink and paper. Their four-leg mind doesn’t have room in it for a concept as complex as customer but it can comprehend the impulse to serve. 

Grey sits. If they were on two-legs, their mouth would say “Welcome to Topping & Co. How can I help you?” but as it is they make something between a bark and a yip and then just wait with their tongue hanging out. Behind them, their tail wags furiously, sending up small flurries of snow.

[grey-everette]

aldcr​:

It still feels empty in his home, which isn’t unsurprising given the fact that it’s only been his for less than a month. He doesn’t quite think of it as home yet. Can’t quite think of it as home yet. And that’s the biggest problem. For, as much as the Pack house is too much and too loud, it’s still the closest thing he’s had to a home in a long time. It’s why he still finds himself turning toward the large house at the edge of town. What sends him wandering up the porch towards the front door.

Today though, something is off. From inside the radio blares at an ungodly sound and he’s not sure why no one has turned it off yet. Aster must be out. There is no way she would put up with this shit. Standing on the porch, his more sensitive ears ringing at the noise level, he scowls. Grey is there, with a pillow around their ears, and he should have fucking known. A sharp breath is blown through his nose, but he crouches down to meet at eye level with them.

“I feel like you probably touched it.” Elyas sounds bored. He wants to sound mean, but he can’t quite manage it when faced with them so terrified. He hates his weak heart for that. They don’t deserve the sliver of compassion that escapes out of him. “I can make it stop if you tell me what you touched.”

Elyas doesn’t like them. They know that much. It’s a tired, unhappy kind of dislike that feels far too similar to their old pack. It leaves them floundering through every interaction they have. Grey could manage if Elyas hated them. It’d be something they could either avoid or use to drive Will closer to them and further away from Elyas. There’s nothing they can do with the way he looks at them, like they’re just an inconvenience to be tolerated until something comes along to get rid of them. Like they’re not worth the energy of caring about. It just makes their insides feel like mud and stirs up memories of when they were a pup, small and empty, and desperate to be wanted. “I didn’t touch it,” they protest weakly, eyes finding the ground by Elyas’s feet. “I stopped touching things after the microwave, it just started doing that this morning.” They wince. The sounds have only gotten worse. Generally, they like music. It’s like a howling but with more thought put into it. But this kind of music is all shrieks and bangs and a man’s loud voice roaring something about hate like he’s split equally between being furious and miserable.

They cover their ears again. They can’t help it. “Please make it quiet.”

[grey-everette]

anseleyman​:

“No, no. Didn’t need to be sleepin’ anyway.” Ansel says, making his way to stand up. He didn’t mention how he got the sick or dead thing or lot, he did seem to have a chronic case of The Suds. Not his fault, especially as of late. His sleep schedule had been severely impacted by recent happenings. He scoffed a little bit at the wording, but smiled and nodded regardless. “Yeah, downtime between the movies is a little longer than I’m used to.”

“Oh,” Grey says. They’ve learned to nod along pleasantly when they don’t understand part of the conversation. It usually makes the daunting task of talking to human people a little easier. “The bench doesn’t look very comfy anyway. I like the grass under the big trees at the edge of the park better for sleeping,” they say idly, scanning the faded posters that line the outer walls of the big tv and popcorn building. “Are there any that aren’t loud?” They ask, nodding at the posters. This man seems like the best person to ask since he spends so much time here he sleeps between episodes.

[grey-everette]

herwildwhisper​:

The wipers hurl across the surface of her windshield, the downpour of sleet and rain dripping from the trees lining the road; the world a cold and wet mess. She’s turned the AC up, to keep Grey from shivering, and the radio is cheerfully buzzing at a low volume; bassline barely thumping.

She glances at them out of the corner of her eye. The house is coming into view up ahead, porch light greeting them from afar. She smiles – small, gentle. She’s trying for reassuring, and she thinks she might have gotten there, for once. “It’s okay, I promise. Wouldn’t have offered ‘f it wasn’t.”

Truth be told, she’s happy for the company. The house creaks too much, and then not enough; like a haunting with no ghost. (But does there need to be a ghost for something to feel haunted? Maybe not. There are so many things that leave a mark that have nothing to do with the dead.)

She shoveled the driveway earlier that day, but there’s still a thin layer of snow coating it, like confectioner’s sugar. It crunches beneath her boot as she steps out of the car, door closed as careful as she can make it – no loud noises, no sudden movements. “Can you bring the chicken?” she asks, hand in her pocket, rummaging for the right key. Their only prevailing company is the winter dark and the shadows of trees in the distance – and the glimmering lights of her far-off neighbours, distant and welcome.

The house won’t be too warm – but she’s got some thick wool socks that should fit them, she thinks, and the house will heat up quick. An empty flower pot stands guard by her door, concrete mould painted white – it was there the day she moved in, and has been there ever since, occasionally with actual flowers in it.

Mar kicks off snow from her shoes before she enters, switching on lights as she goes from the hallway down to the kitchen, the living room left dark. Dimly, she feels relieved that her house isn’t a mess: there’s a dish in the sink, and a mug on the counter, but the bills are a neat stack and the table’s cleared.  

“–– Is there anyone I should call?” 

Grey takes Mar at her word. She’s never given them a reason not to. They follow her up the short walk to her home, obediently carrying the chicken, tucked close to their chest where its warmth can sink into them and stave off just a little more of the winter cold. They don’t want to touch Mar without her permission. Humans are strange about that the way most of the Blackrock pack is but they do crowd near her, eager to be inside. The heat from the car is fading fast and winter is pressing into them in its place. Their skin tingles with the urge to grow fur at every errant gust of wind. Her house is clean. It looks like someone lives inside of it and it’s not damaged or decaying the way Topping and Co. always seems to be but it still makes them sad. Even when the packhouse is empty it’s clear that more than one person lives inside of it. There’s a bit of everyone scattered in all of the rooms, socks beneath the sofa notes on the refrigerator that Grey can’t read written by a variety of different hands, a dozen different colored toothbrushes crowding one cup in the bathroom. Everything here comes in single pieces, one mug on the counter, one dish on the sink. They follow Mar through the hall like a shadow. Some irrational part of them is afraid that if they lose sight of her she’ll be gone and Grey will be the one who lives in this big empty home, all alone. 

“Why don’t you live closer to the town?” They ask. It's a guileless question, asked without an ounce of judgment behind it. Grey assumed humans were just as pack oriented as wolves. The only ones they’ve seen happy to live solitary from their fellows was Lance and Grey doesn’t want to put him and Mar together in the same thought so they very carefully and very determinedly don’t. 

It takes them a moment to process her suggestion. They aren’t used to having a phone to call from, much less having someone to call at all. “Oh, uhm. I can send a message to Will so she doesn’t worry,” they mumble, setting the chicken on an empty spot on the counter and rummaging through the many pockets of their coat for their phone. The tiny little cylinder at the top says it is half hungry and Grey makes a note to find a plug to feed it from once they’re done eating themselves. They poke the phone picture, then the series of tiny pictures that means Will, and they send her an awkwardly taken photo of their face and the little picture of the yellow hand that means “ok.” 

“Does this look alright?” They ask after a moment, holding the screen up for Mar to see.

[grey-everette]

theofawn​:

the noise echoed through the woods. “gunshot?” theo whispered to herself as she stared out into the inky blackness of the night. she couldn’t remember when she’d started to doze off, but the alcohol certainly hadn’t left her system when the sharp rip reverberated in her ears and roused her. her keys were in her hand and her old jeep was still parked nearby. she glanced around and noticed that most things had been more or less cleaned up. there were only a few stragglers left now. theo pushed herself out of her seat against the wall and walked out into the biting cold.

each frosted leaf that crunched beneath her gait felt like an attack on it’s own. sounding off like percussion in the mostly quiet evening. yet it was still nothing compared to that gunshot. perhaps it was how many drinks she’d had, but theo did not hesitate for a moment to push past the brush and go into the woods. too much had been lost and taken and wrong in blackrock lately. what was going on?

there was no telling how long theo walked like that through the wilderness of her small montana town. she pulled her sweater tight around her and shivered. the night had gotten cold. she couldn’t remember when she’d started to hear the bubbling of water nearby, but it had become the most prevalent sound. crack. her head spun quickly to see a heap of matted fur, blood, and frost breathing shallowly in the grass. “wh-” theo knelt next to the wolf, looking over the injury. “you poor thing.” she sighed, remembering what it felt like to bleed alone and lost in the woods. it had been a wolf’s fault then, but now the wolf was the victim. a nervous tingle in her stomach said that perhaps she be more scared given her history, but the concern far outweighed any anxiety.

theo stripped her sweater off and slowly, but carefully wrapped it around the wolf, shushing it with a calm whisper. “hey. it’s gonna be okay.” she fumbled quickly for her phone, but her hands had since become slick and locating hutch’s number was damn near impossible. “oh c’mon-!” don’t be scared. she repeated to herself, pushing far back the memory of that old porch. you can’t be scared now.

Their body is trying very hard not to die. Grey has felt this way twice before, all their blood running out of them and everything growing far away and misty at the edges. There is a part of them that is afraid but even that feels like an echo of an echo of a feeling. Right now Grey has nothing but whatever is in front of them, whatever keeps them not dead for a few minutesmomentsseconds more. 

Grey knows Theo, even in their four-legged body they know the sound and scent of her. She’s their friend. She’s comfort and they desperately need comfort when every part of them that doesn’t hurt is growing faint and cold and gone. They drag their body to her. It stops moving the way they want it to but still, it moves. They want to live. They want to live. They tumble in front of Theo and the world is going dark all around them now. Still, it’s good to see her. She cares about them. She presses a sweater into the bloody hole the bullet dug into their side. Human language falls to pieces in their head but her voice is calm and very gentle. Their body is still very close to being dead but at the very least when they close their eyes again they don’t feel quite so afraid.

[grey-everette]

hana-murakami​:

“Grey. Thank you.” Her smile was soft as she looked at them, letting herself be tugged gently in the direction of the drug store. She shielded her injured arm with her coat, tucking it back inside the best she could, but she never dropped Grey’s hand for a moment as they walked. This was a truly strange interaction if she really thought about, so she decided not to. She could just let herself be cared for without owing anyone anything for once, couldn’t she?

When Grey turned around, Hana almost bumped into them, pressing their clasped hands gently against their chest to stop herself. “I… Jinx found me? I don’t know if you know her, but she said I can stay in her spare room. She’s the one who patched me up. She said I can stay there until I find something better, something about spring. I think I’m supposed to find a new place by then.”

“You should come stay with us,” Grey says immediately. There is no hiding the sudden, desperate kind of excitement that flares bright behind their eyes. They’ve never had a chance to bring someone into the pack before. Will will be happy with them if they do and Hana will have a nice pack to be with when the change takes her the way they know it will and Grey will have a new friend. It will be good for everyone. “Will makes breakfast every morning. Do you like eggs? You can stay in a room with me. There’s a bed and everything and the shower has hot water if you’re first in the morning and the forest is right there so you can go whenever you want to.”

[el-demaury]

[grey-everette]

grey everette ✉️👩‍🎨🤗📚🧁

🧒 👀 🔍 📲 ❓ 🐦 ❓ ❓ ❓

[grey-everette]

willofoak​:

grey-everette​:

Grey Everette ✉️ 🙋🏻 🥞🐺✨💟

💞👩🏻🧑🏻🤳🏻

😲🥺🤩

[grey-everette]

Grey Everette ✉️ 🙋🏻 🥞🐺✨💟

👀💓

[grey-everette]

Grey Everette ✉️😒 👦🏽 🐺 🍺

👉👦🏽

[mitchellwrites]

deathless ♚ sentence meme

You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.

You are going to break your promise. I understand.

You’re lonely too.

It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.

I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable.

I am your servant.

I crawl at your feet; for before your love, your kisses, I am debased.

For you alone I will be weak.

I belong here, and you will not deny me.

I say these things, and the world listens.

I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried.

In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.

I will not let her speak because I love her, and when you love someone, you do not make them tell war stories.

I moved the earth and the water for you.

You will always run away with her.

You will always lose her.

You will always be a fool.

You will always be dead, in a city of ice, snow falling into your ear.

You have already done all of this and will do it again.

No one should be judged for loving more than they ought, only for loving not enough.

We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying.

What we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape.

There need never be any rules between us.

Let us be greedy together; let us hoard.

Do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me.

I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.

Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.

I can’t abide a poor liar.

You look like a winter’s night. I could sleep inside the cold of you.

Oh, quit that. Blushing is for virgins and Christians.

Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.

Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing.

In his own country, Death can be kind.

What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?

Men die. It’s practically what they’re for.

I am no one; I am nothing.

Nothing in me was not made by you.

A revelation is always the end of something. It might even be cause for grief.

Just tell yourself a story that’ll satisfy you and pretend he told it.

Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.

I savor bitterness - it is born of experience. It is the privilege of one who has truly lived.

If you want to kill yourself, do not use us as your knife.

What did I do wrong? Was I boring? Did I ignore you?

Don’t you dare speak to me like that.

I have worn nothing but blood and death for years.

I have fought all your battles for you, just as you asked me.

I have learned not to cry when I strangle a man.

I have learned to watch everything die.

I am not a little girl anymore, dazzled by your magic. It is my magic, now, too.

Are we not devils?

No one is now what they were before the war.

I have not seen you without your skin on.

Close up your head; your brain is getting loose.

We obsess. It’s in our nature.

I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.

In war you must always choose sides.

If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half.

We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive.

My old bones will follow yours soon enough.

It is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair.

I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.

After love, no one is what they were before.

I have survived, but I have not been spared.

In the space of one heartbeat to another I loved you and I was lost to you.

Frighten me, make me cry, only come back.

It’s not so bad, my darling. Being dead. It’s like being alive, only colder.

You’ll think it’s love, while he dines on your heart.

You will be so beautiful when you are old.

I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.

You will live as you live in any world…with difficulty, and grief.

I look at you and it is like my throat being cut.

She said you’d come and I swore to eat your heart.

I still want to kiss you.

My heart is being cut in two. I cannot bear it.

What happens to anything beautiful?

I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not.

[hexesandcrowns-deactivated20180]

the raven cycle ask game

Blue- sun, moon, or stars?

Gansey- describe your fashion sense.

Ronan- if you could pull things from your dreams, what would you dream?

Adam- what is your dream job?

Noah- do you believe in ghosts?

Henry- do you like making friends? is it easy for you?

Chainsaw- do you have any pets?

Orla- what do you consider to be your best feature?

Maura- who was the last person you called?

Persephone- if you could see the future, what would you use this power for?

Helen- do you have siblings? 

Declan- do you consider yourself an extrovert or an introvert? 

Kavinsky- how would your friends describe you?

Opal- favorite mythical/fairytale creature?

Glendower- favorite historical figure?

Gwenillian- would you want to live forever? why or why not?

Aglionby Academy- favorite subject in school?

Nino’s Pizza- favorite pizza topping?

300 Fox Way- have you ever been to a psychic? if not, do you want too? 

Monmouth Manufacturing- would you want to live with your best friends?

Cabeswater- are you superstitious? 

The Barns- favorite season?

Henrietta- describe your hometown.