tonnrre

aut inveniam viam aut faciam. selective. nsfw. horror oc. Roland Labarre Field Investigator for the ERRATAS INSTITUTE

[terribly-happy]

“Unless he had whiskey running through his veins, Willard came to the clearing every morning and evening to talk to God. Arvin didn’t know which was worse, the drinking or the praying. As far back as he could remember, it seemed that his father had fought the Devil all the time.”

The Devil All the Time by Donald Ray Pollock (via terribly-happy)

[cecilia37]

“He knew that he was the stuff of which fanatics and madmen are made and that he had turned his destiny as if with his bare will. He kept himself upright on a very narrow line between madness and emptiness and when the time came for him to lose his balance he intended to lurch toward emptiness and fall on the side of his choice.”

― Flannery O'Connor, The Violent Bear It Away.

[supernovacoff33]

[thereissomethinginthecorn]

[droughtslug]

"That’s the one trouble with this country: everything, weather, all, hangs on too long. Like our rivers, our land: opaque, slow, violent; shaping and creating the life of man in its implacable and brooding image."

William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying, 1930

[theheadlesscrow]

[requiem-on-water]

Flight of an Owl / In the Blood of Night by Mindaugas Buivydas

[virgin-martyr]

Prospective settlers had come to look upon Louisiana as a place where people went to die, not to start a new life.

C. E. Richard, excerpt from Louisiana: An Illustrated History (via virgin-martyr)

[florescentlcvesickness]

[tonnrre]

𝚅𝙸𝙲𝙺𝚈   〉

@tonnrre​ said: ❛  you  don’t  wanna  go  in  there ,  trust  me .  ❜ 

  She flinched, as if the sudden jab of a voice cut more than just the air between them. Her hand instantly lost the door handle it had been about to push and she spun around, the breath caught in the back of her throat ever since she had entered now trashing to get out, though she did not lose a single sound.

  It was not the first time, though there have been surprisingly few, that she has been caught in the middle of the act. Not even the first time at the institute either. But while in the past she had suspected the illegal breaking and entering into a government operated secret archive to win her a lifetime behind bars, Vicky was now certain that forcing her way into the dining room of her boss would result in Balthazaar personally cancelling her life subscription. No amount of slave labour (because let’s face it, that is what this was, no matter how good the benefits) he could squeeze out of her would make up for such betrayal, and Vicky doubted that any claims of worry about his personal well-being - honest or not - would make a difference in that.

  Her only hope, and it was a slim hope indeed, was that whoever she had managed to disturb did not sound like Balthazaar at all. That they were kind, had a soft spot to appeal to, and the weakness to fall for the face of a small, fragile young woman staring up at them with the fear and innocence of a newborn deer. …Or, alternatively, a broken leg and a terrible memory. Vicky decided to put her money on the former.

  “A-Ah…” God knew she wasn’t good at sweet talking. It was one of the things she appreciated about her new line of work. Vengeful ghosts and shapeshifters and Wendigos didn’t care much for compliments and pretty lies either, and those who did were free to talk to Adelaide or one of her more social compatriots instead. Right now, however, she was alone. Alone with an absolute beast of a grown man towering above her. Just this once she wished to channel her mother’s ferocity. It would do a lot more to save her dignity than the strategy she had picked out instead.

  “I-I guess… I’ll leave it be, then.”, Vicky muttered, her eyes not straying from the stranger for a moment. She could feel the handle of the door digging into her back quite uncomfortably. “Who… who are you?”

It is rare that Balthazar graces him with his presence, so preoccupied is he with the administration of the institute that employes ( or rather, employed, in his case ) all manner of discerning minds, those who chase the truth even through the cacophony of naysayers and skeptics alike. Rarer still that he is permitted to be in the company of visitors, so often ushered into a backroom and relegated to silence. This is the first time he’s met anyone within these walls who is not his estranged caretaker. 

Roland watches curiously as the young woman retracts her hand from the knob of the door, stuttering and stumbling over her own words. Strange; he hadn’t expected burglary to be an issue here, not in a place so secure, overseen by a man of Balthazar’s paygrade and paranoia. So — not burglary, then. She asks him who he is, as if he’s the outsider, the foreign inhabitant who has invaded this living space. Perhaps he is; she had seemed to know her footing, understood exactly where to go as she rounded furniture and fiddled with locks.  

“Roland,” he grunts, easing away from where his shoulder is braced against the doorframe. He doesn’t feel inclined to offer much more than that. The man cannot imagine that his surname would mean anything to her, that she would care about anything more than his name and his intentions as he glowers down at her. She knows enough to know that he is not meant to be here. Curious. 

“An’ who’re you?” He doesn’t feel any sense of ownership over this space. Rather, his bristling comes from the latent protectiveness, the vigilance of protection that would have only been amplified by Balthazar’s presence. Roland does not imagine that his voice is threatening, though perhaps his physical presence accounts for that all on its own. He uncrosses his arms and cants his head to the side. He has a habit of doing that quite a bit, he’s come to realize.

“You don’t have to look so spooked, m’not gonna...” Roland shakes his head, huffs out a sigh. Not gonna what, exactly? He’d been bread for violent tendencies. He assumes that’s what he’s been revived for. He just doesn’t feel the need.

“What’re you doin’ here?”

[tonnrre]

@fhynite said    〉 ❛  just so everyone's clear, i'm my own damn weapon.  ❜

“Yeah, we’ve all heard about your ‘ weapon ’.” His head cants to the side. He’s not so much dismissive as he is bewildered. Roland has seen much, both in this life and the last, but he can’t say that he’s ever come across someone with her...particular affliction. A succubus of sorts, he imagines, though there is a strain of muted surprise that comes with realizing that he doesn’t particularly care. 

There had been a time where he never would have considered taking such an apathetic approach. The faintest sign of the strange and unknown would send him to Balthazar’s portable study, the collection of books and field notes he toted from case to case. Now he sits on the other side of a glass barrier, slumped in one of a line of chairs meant for observation, a bottle of something strong and brown between his fingers. He knows the feeling, though to a far lesser extent — to be caged up, to be gawked at like some animal in a zoo. It gets terribly boring. Terribly lonely, too. 

“So what’s the deal, then?” He reaches down, clasps the bottle. Roland gazes at the woman across from him as he uncorks it and takes a swig. “What d’you get out of it?” This is where his apathy ends, it seems; he is not curious about what she is so much as he’s curious about the different components that comprise her. “It’s some sort’a...what? Way to sustain yourself?”

There are other questions, of course — he wonders if she enjoys it in that carnal way that parts legs and weakens human resolve, or if it is more akin to the feast that ensues when a starving man is faced with a buffet. Two different types of satisfaction that feed two very different impulses. Roland licks the residue of liquor from his lips, clears his throat against the burn of it. 

“D’you want some?” She seems like the drinking type, whoever — whatever — she is. He has heard plenty of stories about her, the way she lulls her captors into complacency and lures them into her domicile with a siren’s song, before condemning them to their deaths. He feels rather lukewarm to the threat. Once you’ve passed on, the fear of death becomes significantly muted. 

“I won’t tell Bal— sorry. Director Crowley.” He holds the bottle out, as if she can reach through the glass and take it. “M’not worried. I don’t play for your team. I’ll open the door an’ come inside, if y’want.” 

[thereissomethinginthecorn]

[thesesummersonspoet]

And you know, if you play with the dead for too long, you’ll wind up joining them.“

The Fairytale Of Sawyer Blue (via genderpunktheo)

[tonnrre]

𝙱𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚉𝙰𝚁   〉

Mercifully, Balthazar directs his gaze at the wall. He stares at dark green wallpaper, so chosen to make the room feel claustrophobic, so chosen to squeeze him back out of it with its constricting walls and dark corners. He has never designed a space with comfort in mind. He must be a creature of motion, or rust where he rests. Especially in later years, when the injuries and ailments of his life began to catch up with him, when the patchwork of scar tissue that decorates his side started aching before each thunderstorm, Balthazar resigned himself to constant directed momentum. This room reflects it, and thus does not lend itself to the hideout he hoped it would become for them. In his high and mighty flights of fancy he imagined it as a refuge, where he can gently bring his creation to completion, where he can teach Roland what he needs to know, where they can, selfishly, rekindle the flame that has been so cruelly snuffed all those years ago.

But that is not how this story goes. Roland sits sullen and disapproving, shuffling his cards, and he jabs his finger into every bleeding wound. Balthazar is jarred by the realization of his own recklessness. He was so focused on the destination, he didn’t gauge the distance that needed bridging. Now he has to contend with an ignorant mouth spouting ignorant criticism, as if he had the right to comment, as if he was there when the choices were made that have led them both here. 

What is worst is the utter indifference with which Roland adds insult to injury. He glances up, he lets his eyes roam. He skewers Balthazar’s life’s work with a careless comment and thinks nothing more of his transgression. He vowed patience and kindness and understanding, but they are elusive, those beasts, and he cannot harness them as readily as he once did. So what? He isn’t a young man anymore. He is old and he is tired. 

A scoff snakes over his lips, contorts them into a malignant sneer as he looks back at the man he made, the man he dragged back from death’s domain. To think that this is the thanks he gets. To think that he may have been too late. Not for Roland, but for himself. There is a quiet fear that gnaws at his brainstem, murmuring about the possibility that it isn’t his partner who has changed so crudely, but himself. Maybe there was never anything to be gained— No, shut up. Focus. 

“’Once’ is not now, Roland.” He refuses to repay like with like. He won’t flinch from the cruel form of address, kitschy and utterly inappropriate. Lord knows, he is not dear to anyone in this room tonight. “I am doing my job the way it needs to be done. I do what I have to. Nobody here needs me to hold their hand. Nobody needs me to hold them through their assorted sob stories. I am protecting my people the way I see fit and the way that is best. This ‘fine place’ is all that stands between us and annihilation and I won’t have you disparage my work without so much as looking me in the eye.” 

He rounds the small sofa he has made his bed and approaches Roland, what masquerades with varying success as Roland, and tosses the TV magazine onto the low table. “You are being melodramatic for no reason. I didn’t die. I just grew up. And I learned my lesson. You cannot help if you care too much.”

There is no real use fighting with Roland. In part, Balthazar isn’t even sure if he understands what rage feels like, if he isn’t too muted and dulled down for that altogether. Nothing quite reaches behind those eyes, once very soulful, now hollow. He swallows his ire as best he can, even if his pride continues to cling to his teeth. Roland switches topics so suddenly, it’s liable to give him whiplash. Balthazar should adopt the correct persona, too. He is too easily agitated, too quick to jump at bait. That would never fly in the test chambers. He evens out his temper and lowers his voice:

“… How is your dexterity coming along? Show me, then I’ll play a round.”

He is so quick to anger, so quick to spring to his own defense. As the director scolds him, Roland watches and wonders which wayward curve in his life led him to become so pugilistic. It is difficult to imagine that grief had been the final nail in the coffin, the last salvo of a vibrant force beaten back behind the ramparts of crippling defeat. He rather imagines it as a match to a fuse. Yes, he thinks, watching as Balthazar snaps at him for the sudden softening of his heart, for what he sees as uncharacteristic sensitivity. Like setting fire to a powder keg. I did this. He did this to himself because of me.

“‘Annihilation,’ huh?” Roland can feel his eyebrows raise, in what he remembers as surprise. Experiencing emotion once again still has some novelty to it, and no one has managed to elicit more from him than his estranged partner. There is a thrill of electricity that touches at his nerves, a heat that creeps into the back of his neck. It’s something primal, nearly exciting. 

A sound bubbles up in his throat, deep from the barrel of his chest. He recognizes it as a chuckle. “And you’re callin’ me melodramatic.” 

Still, there is the matter of the cards, and his dexterity. Roland pauses, the bearlike mitt of his hands covering the deck as he leans against the table. The polished wood creaks uneasily beneath the weight of his sinewed arms, his broad torso. He’s expected to display some deftness, some finesse with this corporeal form he’s been newly granted. This is not the first time governmental handlers have beckoned him to heel. He is familiar with the ritual of obedience expected by those who wish to ensure that their dogs are properly trained. 

“Right,” he grunts, the corner of his mouth jerking upwards in what he assumes ought to be a wry smile. “Y'want me to perform for you.” 

Roland gathers the cards once again, begins to shuffle them. He distantly remembers the times he had been hurt years ago, where dexterity and coordination had been far more relevant to his way of life. He remembers these exercises — physical therapy, he thinks — and how Balthazar used to coach him through the motions, would ease him from one task to the next. Now he’s ordered to give some sign of progress. 

Ordered. Back then, he would have bristled at such a command, would have shown some teeth. All he can bring himself to do now is feel pity — or what he remembers as pity. Pity and sadness. His hands still as he looks up at his caretaker. 

“So, what do I gotta do to earn your company today, Bal?” He thinks it’s a fair enough question. He has completed his routine, has showered and bushed his teeth and combed his own hair. He even trimmed his beard today, clipping the wiry hairs down to dappled-grey bristles. He has done everything that has been asked of him, as he always has. Balthazar never used to beckon him to bend his spine on his behalf; now it seems as if he means to push the man until he snaps it in two.

“What’s that test the cops have people do, when they’re pulled over for drivin’ drunk? I used to have to do it all the damn time, when I was younger... Ah, right — walk in a straight line with my arms out, toe to heel?” The deck lay in disarray between his palms a moment longer before he begins to shuffle again. The television drones on, another commercial for some gadget he cannot name. Balthazar had slapped some magazine onto the table; Roland nudges it to the side before resting his elbow atop it. “You could give me a knife. Five finger fillet, remember that? I showed it to you in Cheyenne, when we were piss drunk on that cheap hooch we picked up somewhere in the Dakotas. Or maybe a gun’d be more to your liking. M’sure you got a shooting range somewhere in here.” 

He shuffles the cards, then deals them once again. “Am I an experiment to you, Director? Is that why y’talk to me this way?” His shoulders move, though in bitter amusement or in a weary sigh, he cannot quite tell. “If y’wanna watch me, it’ll be easier for you to do outside, through one of those cameras I know you have in here. I don’t have the stomach for grovelin’ today, sha. Sit an’ play or leave me be.” 

[tonnrre]

@mercyunto said    〉  ❛  don’t  tell  me  how  to  do  my  job .  ❜

He’s struck a nerve. Roland looks up from the small table he’s seated himself at, hands stilling where they shuffle the cards atop the lacquered wood. It occurs to him, belatedly, that there was a time where such a realization would have cowed him into complacency, head hung low like a scolded dog whose muzzle has been struck back-handed. Mountains had never moved for Balthazar when they were young men — rather, Roland had taken it upon himself to move them for him. It was a task he had done gladly, eager to prove his worth, to prove that he was made of softer stuff than the grizzled, snarling loner the younger man had been forced into a haphazard partnership with. 

Now all he can do is blink and cant his head to the side. The beaten hound cannot find it in him to cower under the weight of his transgressions; rather, he gazes up at his caretaker, a slight pinch to his brows as curiosity gleams in his eyes. It is one thing to relearn a man you once knew. It is another thing entirely to relearn a man whose grief has misshapen him into something crooked and different. 

“Do it good an’ proper, then,” he grunts, looking back down at the playing cards grasped between his fingers. “Like we used to. We cared about the people we helped.” The deck has proven to be a surprisingly good tool to retrain his dexterity. He will sit in this room for hours for want of freedom, for lack of anything better to do with his time, the television droning on in the background as he shuffles the deck, deals the cards to no one, and gathers them up to shuffle ad infinitum. He used to be able to do tricks with them, he recalls. Could shuffle them from one hand to another, could find all manner of crafty ways to cut a deck. But that was a very long time ago.

There is some infomercial for a male virility supplement airing on the television, complete with scantily-clad women, bleached hair and flawless complexions beckoning with with sultry smiles. The world has changed quite a bit since he was first interred within it, though he looks upon the shift with something akin to indifference. There are times where he flips through the stations, the selection so much more robust than when he’d been alive, and will occasionally happen past some bombastic newsman griping about the downfall of polite society, the unraveling of the country’s moral fabric. There are times where the posturing makes him angry, though on other occasions it makes him laugh — is time not supposed to march on just because the stubborn will it to stagnate? Or better yet: who gives a fuck if “polite society” shits the bed?

“You used to scold me for that, y’know.” Roland shuffles the cards again, the edges snapping from the callused pads of his thumbs to intermix with the rest of the deck. “I was too crass with everyone, y’said. I was never as kind as you were. I always liked that, how gentle you could be with people. I liked watchin’ how you talked to ‘em. We all felt very safe with you once.” 

He swipes a finger across his tongue and begins to deal the cards. “Was it worth it?” There is a quirk to his eyebrow when Roland glances up from his repetitive task. “This is a fine place you’ve built up here, darlin’. But I think two people died back then, an’ they’d be horrified by us now.” 

He sets the deck on the table, then looks up properly. Y’can sit an’ play, if you want. I remember how the game goes.” 

[conoscevamo-damui]

[…] a kind of marriage distorted into a satanic bergain.

M. Fincher, Queering Gothic in the Romantic Age: The Penetrating Eye (via conoscevamo-damui)

[ohisms]

𝑰 𝑯𝑶𝑷𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 .    (   sentence  starters  originating  from  season  two  of  syfy’s  ‘ wynonna earp ’ .   adjust  pronouns  as  necessary ,  heavy  warning  for  mature  themes !   )

❛  you  truly  are  a  monster .  ❜ ❛  now ,  don’t  get  all  emotional  on  me .  ❜ ❛  you  have  amazing  taste  in  underwear .  ❜ ❛  my  poor ,  brave  baby .  ❜ ❛  when  did  you  become  such  a  prude ?  ❜ ❛  it’s  called  being  a  gentleman .  ❜ ❛  how  are  you  holding  up ?  ❜ ❛  i’ll  have  you  know  i’m  kind  of  a  big  deal  around  here .  ❜ ❛  you’re  gonna  need  me .  ❜ ❛  aw ,  you  did  math .  ❜ ❛  i  need  you  to  be  okay .  ❜ ❛  you  couldn’t  stop  me  if  you  tried .  ❜ ❛  better  nut  up  and  decide  who  you  can  trust .  ❜ ❛  if  you  want  me  to  trust  you ,  you’re  gonna  have  to  tell  me  the  plan .  ❜ ❛  you  stay  put ,  okay ?  ❜ ❛  there  is  a  possibility  i  am  now  hallucinating .  ❜ ❛  it’s  my  turn ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  who  are  you ?  you  know  what ,  i  don’t  care .  we’ve  gotta  go .  ❜ ❛  somebody  has  to  pay ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  you  could  come  in  …  i’m  gonna  take  a  shower .  ❜ ❛  they  should  be  scared  of  me .  ❜ ❛  remember  who  the  real  enemy  is .  ❜ ❛  this  is  the  worst .  ❜ ❛  i  love  watching  you  work .  ❜ ❛  please  don’t  shut  me  out .  ❜ ❛  i’m  sitting  right  here ,  there’s  no  need  to  holler .  ❜ ❛  what  do  you  even  do  around  here ,  [ name ] ?  ❜ ❛  [ name ] ,  anything  to  say  for  yourself ?  ❜ ❛  i’m  such  an  asshole ,  i  don’t  know  why  i  brought  that  up .  ❜ ❛  what’s  in  it  for  you ?  ❜ ❛  how  are  you  doing ?  still  having  fun ?  ❜ ❛  so  many  jokes ,  i  can’t  even  choose .  ❜ ❛  THIS  is  your  breaking  point ?  ❜ ❛  this  might  be  a  shitshow ,  but  it’s  OUR  shitshow .  ❜ ❛  sometimes ,  it’s  good  to  say  goodbye .  ❜ ❛  we  never  lied  to  each  other ,  you’re  free  to  kiss  whoever  you  like .  ❜ ❛  how  do  you  do  that ?  turn  your  feelings  on  and  off  like  a  fucking  robot ?  ❜ ❛  let’s  get  you  somewhere  safe .  ❜ ❛  i  feel  like  i  might’ve  lost  the  plot  a  bit .  ❜ ❛  all  i  dream  of  is  not  having  to  run  anymore .  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  wanna  die .  ❜ ❛  this  is  what  i  bring  to  the  team .  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  know  if  i  should  be  frightened  or  jealous .  ❜ ❛  you  wore  suede ?  what  is  it ,  your  first  day ?  ❜ ❛  to  add  insult  to  injury ,  you’re  stuck  with  me .  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  like  being  blackmailed .  ❜ ❛  i’m  tired  of  running  and  hiding  …  and  then  running  again .  ❜ ❛  we’re  buying  better  bourbon .  case  closed .  ❜ ❛  [ name ]  was  never  anything  but  proud  of  you .  ❜ ❛  oh ,  i  like  when  you’re  scary .  ❜ ❛  are  you  still  mad  at  me ?  ❜ ❛  as  long  as  you  want  me ,  i  will  be  by  your  side .  ❜ ❛  the  best  sex  is  make - up  sex ,  right ?  ❜ ❛  give  me  a  whiskey !  ❜ ❛  maybe  i  am  getting  soft ,  huh ?  ❜ ❛  [ name ] ,  i  have  this  gut  feeling  that  something  is  coming ,  and  it’s  bad .  ❜ ❛  i  can  get  you  whatever  you  need  except  time .  ❜ ❛  i  thought  this  time  would  be  different .  ❜ ❛  even  fury  road  has  pit  stops .  ❜ ❛  i  didn’t  know  if  it  was  your  thing .  ❜ ❛  baby ,  that’s  everybody’s  thing .  ❜ ❛  you  guys  need  to  get  some  more  hands ,  so  that  your  hands  can  stay  right  here  on  me .  ❜ ❛  every  time  i  close  my  eyes ,  it’s  the  same  nightmare .  ❜ ❛  are  you  going  to  be  this  much  fun  all  day ?  ❜ ❛  i  was  such  an  idiot .  ❜ ❛  clock  is  ticking ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  how  are  you  settling  in ?  ❜ ❛  how  long  are  you  around ?  ❜ ❛  what  am  i ,  human  tinder ?  ❜ ❛  listen ,  i  love  that  you’ve  got  your  own  thing  going  on  here ,  but  don’t  get  distracted .  ❜ ❛  you  have  my  undivided  attention .  ❜ ❛  two  shots  of  tequila  is  not  ‘abstaining’ ,  it’s  called  being  professional .  ❜ ❛  nice  try ,  but  snitches  get  stitches .  ❜ ❛  i  was  just  thinking  about  you .  ❜ ❛  some  things  never  change ,  huh ?  ❜ ❛  hey ,  watch  your  perfectly  glossed  mouth .  ❜ ❛  i’m  glad  you’re  putting  yourself  out  there .  ❜ ❛  why  is  everyone  so  obsessed  with  my  fun  levels ?  ❜ ❛  yeah ,  it’s  great .  i  could  just  scream !  ❜ ❛  not  bailing  on  me ,  are  you ?  ❜ ❛  do  you  wanna  get  out  of  here ?  ❜ ❛  you’re  drunk  and  you’re  talking  too  much .  ❜ ❛  shady  and  suspicious ,  therefore  gettin’  more  delicious .  ❜ ❛  you’ve  come  so  far .  ❜ ❛  when  you  stop  dating  psychos ,  THEN  you  can  give  me  relationship  advice .  ❜ ❛  let  him  go ,  it’s  not  worth  it .  ❜ ❛  if  that’s  broken ,  you’ll  pay  for  it .  ❜ ❛  don’t  tell  me  how  to  do  my  job .  ❜ ❛  oh ,  you  have  not  seen  harassment .  ❜ ❛  [ name ] ,  keep  your  head  in  the  game .  ❜ ❛  have  you  noticed  any  changes  in  [ name ]  lately ?  ❜ ❛  you  know  what ?  forget  it .  ❜ ❛  i  heard  everything .  ❜ ❛  you’ll  be  broken  enough  for  her  in  no  time .  ❜ ❛  you  look  like  you  had  some  fun .  ❜ ❛  you  are  UNDERESTIMATING  the  day  i’ve  had .  ❜ ❛  are  we  too  late ?  are  you  okay ?  ❜ ❛  i  had  him  right  where  i  wanted  him .  ❜ ❛  this  has  to  end .  please .  ❜ ❛  brave  but  stupid ,  i’ll  take  it .  ❜ ❛  okay ,  yeah ,  now  i’m  sure  i  hit  myself  in  the  head .  ❜ ❛  i  hate  you ,  [ name ] .  i  hate  you .  ❜ ❛  you  think  i’m  stupid ?  ❜ ❛  why  didn’t  you  tell  me  any  of  this  before ?  ❜ ❛  i’m  stubborn ,  i  always  take  the  hard  way .  ❜ ❛  i  wasn’t  expecting  company .  ❜ ❛  okay ,  we’ve  really  gotta  come  up  with  a  secret  handshake .  ❜ ❛  should  …  should  we  have  a  safe  word ?  ❜ ❛  this  was  not  the  plan ,  it’s  too  dangerous .  ❜ ❛  stop  it .  all  you  do  is  play  games .  i  don’t  like  your  games .  ❜ ❛  i’m  trying  to  rescue  you ,  let’s  go .  ❜ ❛  doesn’t  anybody  have  any  faith  in  me ?  ❜ ❛  how  do  you  know  you  weren’t  followed ?  ❜ ❛  i  think  you  should  get  out  of  here .  ❜ ❛  i’m  not  a  bad  person .  ❜ ❛  i’m  not  a  bad  person ,  and  if  you  know  what’s  good  for  you ,  you’ll  stop  treating  me  like  one .  ❜ ❛  the  power  of  suggestion  is  a  formidable  thing .  ❜ ❛  [ name ] ,  i  know  what  i  saw .  ❜ ❛  i  told  you  to  wait .  ❜ ❛  bad  news ,  they  ran  out  of  pumpkin  spice .  ❜ ❛  i  thought  tying  a  cherry  stem  into  a  knot  with  my  tongue  was  a  cool  party  trick .  ❜ ❛  you’re  not  ready .  you’ll  never  be  ready .  ❜ ❛  you’ll  never  be  locked  up  again .  ❜ ❛  whatever  you  did ,  i  want  to  help .  ❜ ❛  i’m  exhausted .  ❜ ❛  i’m  not  having  any  fun .  ❜ ❛  what  are  we  going  to  do  with  you ?  ❜ ❛  i  salted  the  rim ,  i’m  not  a  savage .  ❜ ❛  are  you  feeling  alright ?  ❜ ❛  you  don’t  wanna  go  in  there ,  trust  me .  ❜ ❛  tell  me  why  i  shouldn’t  kill  you  right  here ,  right  now .  ❜ ❛  you’re  really  mean  when  you  drink  before  noon .  and  you  drink  before  noon  too  often .  ❜ ❛  well  frankly ,  [ name ] ,  the  situation  is  balls .  ❜ ❛  horrible  deeds  have  been  committed  here .  ❜ ❛  have  you  done  bad  things ?  ❜ ❛  let’s  get  you  straight  home  to  bed .  ❜ ❛  …  i  said  i  was  sorry .  ❜ ❛  i’ll  be  anything  you  want  me  to  be .  ❜ ❛  i  might’ve  caused  some  trouble .  ❜ ❛  you’ve  got  dark  corners  that  you  haven’t  explored  yet .  ❜ ❛  i’m  not  enough  to  save  you ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  okay ,  are  we  having  a  moment ?  ❜ ❛  there’s  only  one  way  to  make  it  stop  and  you  know  what  it  is ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  history  books  will  have  no  mention  of  our  names  or  our  deeds .  ❜ ❛  i  know  you  need  space  and  i  really  tried  to  stay  away ,  but  i  got  worried .  ❜ ❛  i’ve  got  you  now ,  okay ?  i  swear  i’ve  got  you .  ❜ ❛  you’ve  made  an  enemy  this  friday .  ❜ ❛  [ name ]  would  never  say  something  like  that .  ❜ ❛  i’d  say  ‘make  your  peace’ ,  but  i  hope  you  never  find  any .  ❜ ❛  i  would  shoot  anybody  for  you .  ❜ ❛  i  knew  you’d  rescue  me .  ❜ ❛  i  have  enough  friends .  ❜ ❛  you  know ,  i’m  here  for  you .  now  and  forever .  ❜ ❛  we’re  all  on  the  same  team ,  now ,  right ?  ❜ ❛  you  can’t  just  ‘nope’  this  away !  ‘nope’  is  not  a  viable  plan .  ❜ ❛  [ name ] ,  take  a  day  off .  ❜ ❛  if  it  sounds  like  a  hippie  hemorrhoid  cream ,  i  don’t  want  it  in  my  cup .  ❜ ❛  you  practice  those  googly  eyes  in  the  mirror ,  or  just  …  natural  talent ?  ❜ ❛  how  did  you  get  in  here ?  ❜ ❛  stop  pushing  me .  and  while  you’re  at  it ,  stop  judging  me .  ❜ ❛  i  remember  every  second  i  was  with  you .  every  touch ,  every  kiss  …    ❜ ❛  did  i  just  pass  out ?  ❜ ❛  i  think  we’ve  been  asleep  for  a  long - ass  time .  ❜ ❛  time  is  running  out .  ❜ ❛  you  haven’t  been  paying  attention .  ❜ ❛  goodie ,  i  love  conditions .  they  really  turn  my  crank .  ❜ ❛  you’re  amazing .  ❜ ❛  you  do  not  want  to  cross  that  line .  ❜ ❛  everybody  keeps  talking  to  me  like  i’m  an  idiot .  ❜ ❛  i  know  what  i  want .  ❜ ❛  you  shot  me ,  you  bitch !  ❜ ❛  i  have  something  to  tell  you ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  you  don’t  have  to  be  like  this ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  you  know  we’re  gonna  have  to  talk  about  this  eventually ,  right ?  ❜ ❛  room  down  there  for  one  more ?  ❜ ❛  i’m  not  saying  it’s  gonna  be  okay .  i’m  just  saying  …  i’m  here .  ❜ ❛  i  am  all  in .  ❜ ❛  [ name ] ,  thank  god  you’re  here .  ❜ ❛  it’s  for  your  protection .  ❜ ❛  if  you  have  nothing  to  hide ,  what’s  the  problem ?  ❜ ❛  sorry ,  i  don’t  have  time  to  play  nice  anymore .  ❜ ❛  usually  she’s  a  fun  bitch ,  not  a  bitch  bitch .  ❜ ❛  wake  up .  [ name ] ,  wake  up .  ❜ ❛  evil  sniffs  out  evil .  ❜ ❛  you’re  very  nice ,  thank  you  for  that .  ❜ ❛  i  wonder  how  many  generations  have  surveyed  this  land .  ❜ ❛  i  think  it’s  starting  to  settle  in .  ❜ ❛  don’t  shoot ,  i’m  just  the  messenger .  ❜ ❛  it  was  a  long  time  ago .  ❜ ❛  you  are  kicking  ass  at  not  helping  right  now ,  you  know ?  ❜ ❛  we  should  talk .  ❜ ❛  you  are  such  an  asshole .  ❜ ❛  [ name ] ,  hey .  i  need  a  favor .  ❜ ❛  i  told  you  not  to  make  this  weird .  ❜ ❛  i  hate  doing  everything  sober .  ❜ ❛  pace  yourself ,  there’s  SO  much  more  to  judge .  ❜ ❛  you  don’t  become  [ name ]  by  confronting  problems  head - on .  ❜ ❛  just  shut  your  mouth .  ❜ ❛  okay ,  yeah ,  i  guess  i  deserved  that .  ❜ ❛  see ?  this  is  what  you  get  when  you’re  friends  with  a  nark .  ❜ ❛  step  out  of  my  way .  ❜ ❛  are  we  having  a  good  time ?  ❜ ❛  okay ,  let  me  do  the  talking .  ❜ ❛  justice  delayed  is  still  justice  served .  ❜ ❛  you  are  so  pretty  and  i  like  you  so  much !  ❜ ❛  you’re  drunk !  and  in  trouble .  ❜ ❛  this  whole  ‘lone  wolf’  thing  you’ve  got  going  on  isn’t  gonna  cut  it .  ❜ ❛  don’t  even  think  about  it .  ❜ ❛  did  you  mean  any  of  those  things  you  said ?  ❜ ❛  you’re  lucky  nobody  saw  that .  ❜ ❛  why  don’t  you  distract  me ?  ❜ ❛  this  is  only  gonna  get  worse  if  you  don’t  decide  to  help  me .  ❜ ❛  you  really  don’t  care  about  any  of  this ,  do  you ?  ❜ ❛  i’ll  be  gone  long  before  then .  ❜ ❛  so  this  is  where  it  all  began  …  ❜ ❛  it’s  hard  not  to  feel  like  an  outsider ,  even  for  me .  ❜ ❛  i  remember  what  it  feels  like  to  be  new .  ❜ ❛  hey ,  don’t  do  anything  stupid ,  okay ?  ❜ ❛  shut  the  hell  up .  ❜ ❛  at  this  point ,  i’m  no  longer  afraid  of  the  consequences .  ❜ ❛  how  did  you  come  by  it ?  the  wound ?  ❜ ❛  you’re  lying .  ❜ ❛  you  have  to  do  something  for  me .  ❜ ❛  why  wouldn’t  you  tell  me ?  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  need  you  to  make  decisions  for  me .  ❜ ❛  don’t  follow  me .  ❜ ❛  why  did  you  bring  me  here ?  ❜ ❛  i  deserve  to  be  saved .  i  do .  ❜ ❛  try  to  remember  who  you  were .  ❜ ❛  trust  me ,  we’ll  meet  again .  ❜ ❛  i  promise  i  will  never  hurt  you .  ❜ ❛  come  back  to  me .  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  want  to  hurt  you .  ❜ ❛  eyes  on  the  prize .  ❜ ❛  surely  you’ll  want  to  hear  my  offer .  ❜ ❛  sorry  i  was  a  no - show .  ❜ ❛  aren’t  you  gonna  say  goodnight ?  ❜ ❛  i’m  too  hangry  to  have  this  conversation .  ❜ ❛  it’s  okay ,  it’s  better  that  i  know  the  truth .  ❜ ❛  am  i  the  biggest  cliche  ever ?  ❜ ❛  i  know  what  you’re  going  through .  ❜ ❛  you’re  so  lovely .  ❜ ❛  you  know  what  i’d  never  do ?  tell  you  what  to  think  or  feel .  ❜ ❛  i  never  drink  alone .  it’s  sad  and  depressing .  ❜ ❛  i  would  do  anything  to  get  out  of  here  for  just  one  night .  ❜ ❛  say  something  …  preferably  encouraging .  ❜ ❛  is  this  your  thing ?  cute  but  annoying ?  ❜ ❛  i  can’t  protect  you  if  i’m  dead .  ❜ ❛  i  think  i  need  to  leave .  ❜ ❛  you  can’t  run  away  from  this .  ❜ ❛  you  repeat  this  convo ,  you  die .  ❜ ❛  don’t  lie  to  me ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  you  and  me ,  we’re  good  people .  ❜ ❛  hey ,  listen .  i’m  gonna  get  you  out  of  here ,  okay ?  ❜ ❛  sometimes  i  think  you  really  must  hate  me .  ❜ ❛  what  are  you  so  afraid  of ?  ❜ ❛  i  always  knew  you’d  be  the  death  of  me ,  anyway .  ❜ ❛  there’s  nothing  you  could’ve  done .  ❜ ❛  this  can’t  be  happening .  ❜ ❛  i  just  really  thought  i  was  doing  the  right  thing .  ❜ ❛  i  lied  to  you ,  and  i  shouldn’t  have .  ❜ ❛  i  have  never  loved  anyone  the  way  that  i  love  you .  ❜ ❛  can  we  all  just  act  like  we’re  winning  for  once ?  ❜ ❛  i  wasn’t  expecting  you  to  be  cool  about  it ,  but  the  pouting  is  getting  old .  ❜ ❛  am  i  the  only  one  who  didn’t  know ?  ❜ ❛  i  appreciate  everything  you’ve  done .  ❜ ❛  what  are  the  chances  you’ll  sit  this  one  out ?  ❜ ❛  [ name ]’s  never  gonna  forgive  me .  ❜ ❛  you  would  have  done  the  same  thing .  ❜ ❛  don’t  go .  ❜ ❛  i  learned  my  lesson .  ❜ ❛  i  should  have  trusted  you .  ❜ ❛  i  thought  it  was  your  fault .  ❜ ❛  i  plan  to  exploit  you .  ❜ ❛  just  so  everyone’s  clear ,  i’m  my  own  damn  weapon .  ❜ ❛  sorry  i’m  late ,  i  kinda  died .  ❜ ❛  mercy  comes  in  many  forms .  ❜ ❛  i  will  kill  us  both  before  i  let  you  walk  in  service  to  the  devil .  ❜ ❛  if  i  die ,  they  can’t  use  me .  ❜ ❛  i  am  so  very  tired ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  see  you  on  the  other  side .  ❜ ❛  i  care  more  about  this  than  anything  else  in  the  world .  ❜ ❛  you  are  …  extraordinary .  ❜ ❛  i’m  with  you ,  [ name ] .  ❜ ❛  are  you  okay ?  ❜ ❛  would  you  have  done  any  different ?  ❜ ❛  i  would  have  done  everything  different .  ❜