#lost the plot halfway through

[fentrashcat]

It turns out my power's definition of "consent" is more flexible than it probably should be. They don't have to explicitly tell me "you can mind control me", no, they just have to ask for help.

Help in processing grief

Help in overcoming self destructive behavior

Help in their self care.

Of course I can't do it all for them, but sometimes I give them a little push when they let me in. A voice in the back of their head that whispers "I see you, you matter, you will be okay."

My power over someone is maintained for as long as they need me, whether they are in my presence or on the other side of the world. I feel every ounce of their pain, every moment of sorrow, and every twinge of their healing scars. Throughout the process they think I am just a thought, a peice of them that isn't ready to give up yet, and that's what I prefer.

After all, who would come to a psychologist who can control their minds?

When your power had finally manifested, they were quick to dismiss it as some cruel joke, laugh it off, forget you ever existed… and then to never bother keeping tabs on you. After all, if you can’t “mind control” anyone without their explicit consent, you might as well be powerless.

[grinningdevils]

𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃 : 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘;

❝ The prettiest in-crowd that you had ever seen, Ribbons in our hair and our eyes gleamed mean... ❞

❥ eloise westwood (cisfemale, she/her) is twenty-seven, and has been in new york for approximately her whole life. She is a socialite/informant in the serpents and kind of looks a lot like josephine langford. People around town would describe her to be +sophisticated and +magnetic, but also -petulant and -manipulative.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒;

Full Name: Eloise Rosamund Westwood

Age: 27

Date Of Birth: 3 November 1997

Zodiac: Scorpio

Parents: Geoffrey & Pamela Westwood

Siblings: None

Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Socialite/informant for The Serpents

Languages: English, French

Positive: Sophisticated, magnetic, candid, affluent

Negative: Petulant, manipulative, pretentious, judgemental

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𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘;

・❥・Eloise was born into the cushioned comforts of the Westwood family, a well-respected legacy family line well renowned all over New York.

・❥・The only child of Geoffrey and Pamela, Eloise grew up amongst wealth she couldn't quite understand but loved nonetheless, wearing her silver spoon status like a proud badge. As a child she was labelled precocious and spoiled by nannies that she loved to slyly torment, always pleading innocence through widened blue eyes when her parents questioned her.

・❥・From adolescence to teenhood, Eloise never had to work too hard for anything. Whatever she wanted she was given, and if it wasn't, a tantrum usually saw to it. Her parents would have sooner see her quiet and satisfied than causing trouble for them or acting out in public.

・❥・School was a social gathering more than a place to learn, however she kept a respectable GPA to keep her parents placated and happy: they'd inadvertently set up an image-for-wealth trade service agreement that Eloise was all too happy to adhere to as long as the newest Jimmy Choos appeared in her closet every season. She held spots on the cheerleading team (head in her senior year), the planning committee, the yearbook committee, the dance team and the debate team where she honed her gift of arguing.

・❥・It had been a childhood dream of hers to be a ballerina, and while she'd attended classes since she was a child, her nonchalance towards working hard saw her miss out on a spot with the American Ballet Theatre when she was seventeen. She had been told that she was too green and to come back a year later. It was the first firm no she'd ever heard in her life, and the humiliation was so bitter that she threw her pointe shoes in the trash on the way out and then followed suit with her leotards when she got home. ・❥・College of some kind was still expected of her, and she begrudgingly chose to study business for the pure fact that she assumed she would be talking over her family enterprise one day as the only child. With a large amount of strings pulled by her father, Eloise was accepted into Brown University and did the bare minimum to get her piece of paper, preferring to party at any possible chance. She must have attention to thrive, after all.

・❥・It was at one of these frowned upon club parties that she first met a member of The Serpents (wc) who had found themselves in a tight situation that Eloise talked them out of. She had a gift apparently, and Eloise loved nothing more than to be praised for things she was good at. However, she didn't like the idea of gangs - it was all very gauche, and turned down the offer to join when it was first offered to her.

・❥・Soon after she returned to New York, freshly graduated with a parent-pleasing piece of paper in hand, her father started to talk of retirement and successors. It was her chance to get everything she was owed - more money, power, status. Except before he could start to process of naming her as heir apparent to Westwood and Co, he started to receive threats about his business 'misdeeds' with a subsequent investigation opened. He fled the country to allude the police (and is still currently evading them somewhere in the Swiss Alps).

・❥・Eloise's mother was put in charge of the enterprise until a more permanent option could be found and Eloise, realising she might need some more friends in low places after all, agreed to join the Serpents, but only if her membership was kept discreet. She never thought she'd be adding 'gang member' to her long list of accolades, but Eloise is enjoying the other side of herself that revels in a little danger, and while it's not general public knowledge, the city talks and nothing is ever truly kept secret, is it?

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒;

tbc!

[a0vy]

shh, he’s contemplating terraforming his hideout

[cilantros-world]

I feel as though I would be shunned away and called a fake if I ever truly joined any alterhuman space

Alterhumanity isn't something I can explain well -- my alterhumanity is the same way grass is green or the sky is blue. I don't HAVE an explanation for it, I don't have any profound thoughts about it -- it is me and I am it, simple as that. My alterhumanity is woven into my soul like a tapestry made of vines from the earth and whiskers from a feline

If you asked me "What does being an alterhuman mean to you?" I would not have an answer, alterhumanity to me is a distant feeling that you can never truly understand, but at the same time you feel so incredibly close to it. I don't think about it often, I rarely have any shifts, it feels as though I am constantly part creature

I am an imposter among humans but an outcast to my own kind, I am forever trapped in that middle ground -- never fully accepted by either

[scuderiaspringsteen]

circular narratives, passing the gauntlet, and boy kings // inspired by @mnyd 's tags on @drivestraight 's post

[pr0cyon-lotor]

AU where chess is a common strategy game in PIDW and SY is a chess master before he gets transmigrated. Like undefeated and well known in the community. He's probably popular even in mainstream social media because he's a pretty boy with a soft demeanor.

Of course he still reads PIDW and is a massive hater, but he now hides it because he sees it as shameful especially with his reputation of being a kind-hearted person.

Anyway he dies and gets thrown into the novel a bit after the Qing generation ascends. He's just a rogue cultivator or maybe even a demon, not really important. What's important is that he gets bored and misses his old hobby.

He finds out chess is a thing in this world and immediately hops into it again. Sadly, he keeps beating people and no one is a real challenge. So to give himself a puzzle, he picks up other strategy games and gets really good at them too. And after a few years, he is well known in PIWD with his skills in a variety of games.

Enter SJ. Fresh off getting LBH into his peak and STRESSED about how much he sees himself in this child and about how much he hates that fact.

He enters the Warm Red Pavilion and finds some guy playing a game with one of the jiejies. One of those little mind games to entertain the guests, and he's playing against the best one.

SJ watches while he waits for his room and to his surprise the man wins. He immediately gets ready to step in-between because whenever guests win against one of the prostitutes they always get handsy and he knows that particular one doesn't like to do sex work (like maybe she specializes in poetry and dancing instead yk).

Instead of the man getting handsy, he asks for another game, which she accepts with a smile. And now SJ is watching them play with much more interest. After a while the madam comes over and asks if he's interested in their regular.

SJ asks about the man and gets his name and finds out that apparently SY comes to the brothel to play against the ladies and listen to music at times.

SJ keeps it in mind and then leaves for his room. The next time he sees SY is during another trip down the mountain (probably dressed down to not draw attention to himself). This time he was in a tea shop playing go against an elderly man. SY wins again and patiently explains what mistakes the old man made.

The old man accepts defeat and asks him for a rematch. SY agrees, and SJ finally approaches out of curiosity. SJ asks if he can play SY after they're done. The old man says something about how he's probably going to lose anyway and says SJ just takes his turn.

SJ accepts it and sits in front of SY. He thinks it's going to be an easy win, something to stroke his bruised ego. Only for him to get completely annihilated like it was an embarrassing lost for him. (It wasn't embarrassing, he almost won, but he didn't win so obviously it was embarrassing)

SJ expects gloating and nearly crushes his fan in his hand. SY tells him that he was a tough opponent and he asks for another rematch. SJ is confused about the sincerity and hesitantly agrees even though his ego tells him to cut his losses now.

They continue to play multiple games in a row, each one getting longer and longer with each mistake SY explains and helps SJ fix (he doesn't even notice he's taking advice from a man). They continue playing and drinking tea until they're kicked out because the shop is closing.

SY laughs sheepishly and says he didn't even notice the time pass. He asks if SJ is free to play again because it's been the first time in years he's had that much fun against someone else. SJ agrees because he refuses to have a losing streak (and he found it a little fun too).

Eventually it becomes a routine, SJ comes down the mountain every week and plays SY in go until the establishment they're in kicks them out. And because his brain is constantly on how to beat SY, he starts neglecting other things (like abusive LBH and other duties).

And because he's neglecting duties, eventually he has to do a information collecting mission with Shang Qinghua. They arrive at the town and they're tasked with collecting information on a lead of a demon hiding within a festival.

Somehow this leads to SY joining their little info gathering group and finding out SQH is Airplane (he's still somehow unaware of SJ being SQQ because of course he is).

Shenanigans ensue and somehow a sting operation is set up with SY being used as bait. He manages to coerce the demon into a game of chess while he waits for SJ and SQH to arrive.

They play chess. He thinks he'll just stall until the two get there, but halfway through he moves his knight and it ends up near the demon's knight. And with a straight face, the demon takes both knights off the board while claiming "And they're both out for horsie marriage."

Right then SJ and SQH arrive to slay the demon, only to bare witness to SY doing the Xianxia equivalent of shooting the demon point blank with a Glock 19 because surprise surprise that bullshit move pissed off the chess master.

SJ says something sarcastic about not needing to save the damsel (they put) in distress. And then SY asks to speak to SQH privately while dragging him out by the ear.

He continues to interrogate the author because what the ACTUAL FUCK was that bullshit move?! And SQH defends himself by saying he never thought a professional chess player would ever read his stuff, much less play the game in-verse. He tells SY he thought it would be funny if that could happen.

Anyway.

SJ has to pry SY off SQH because he almost legitimately strangles him to death. SY is dragged away, screaming things that'd make even a demon blush, and admittedly, SJ is amused.

They end up in some tea shop, SY muttering about the idiocy of it all in English, and SJ ordering for both of them. He asks what got SY so mad since like this guy has had an unshakable pleasant demeanor until now.

SY makes up some story about how his hometown played chess differently and that he's realizing he doesn't know how chess is played anywhere else. He asks SJ for a guide for playing chess because he doesn't want to overreact like he did before.

SJ agrees in exchange for a guide of how his hometown played chess. The deal was made and after they came back to town they both write their manuals. They exchange them in their next meetup, and SY is muttering about how stupid some of the rules are. SJ finds it very funny as he reads the manual SY gave him, finding that he prefers his version since there was less unnecessary traps.

SJ eventually asks to play SY in a chess game once he understands his version. SY happily agrees and they play over and over again until SJ beat him. SY is over the moon and asks for another rematch, which he gets beaten again. They play a few more times wins alternating until SY grabs SJ's hands and tells him he's in love with him and his massive brain.

SJ is caught off guard and flustered, so he hits SY with his fan and calls him shameless as he leaves to preserve as much face as possible. SY whines about him being unfair and follows SJ while apologizing about the comment.

SJ ignores him and leaves SY alone. He thinks he fucked up until the next time they meet, and SJ brings him a book he been meaning to buy but just couldn't find. SY is about to comment on the gift but SJ shuts him up and hides his face behind his fan. He manages to see the smallest hint of a blush and (shockingly) understands.

They both start exchanging gifts each meetup in silent courting. And surprisingly he hasn't abused LBH since he got there (because he forgets to. he has a boyfriend to worry about thank you very much 🤨), so when the Conference comes, SJ doesn't throw LBH into the abyss.

He still ends up in the abyss but only because MF got thrown in when they encountered MBJ, and he jumped after his shixiong. SY is there because of course he wants to stop the evil scum villain from hurting his little lamb, but he's just standing there like

Because how else is he supposed to react to LBH throwing himself into the abyss to go after MF who was thrown in when they encountered MBJ. Was Ming Fan even supposed to be there????

Also why is SJ in such ornate robes. Why is he mourning? Why are they going back to Qing Jing? WHY IS NING YINGYING CALLING SHEN JIU BABA?! WHY IS EVERYONE CALLING HIM SHIZUN?!!!?!???

[doveshovel]

Just when I thought I was starting to figure out backgrounds. room interiors came to bite me in the ass

[bectoshi]

iwaizumi hajime, big ol’ nature fan.

i hc him as a pretty outdoorsy guy. he likes hiking and he loves camping.

i just know he’s a loyal patagonia and lululemon customer. reading every single one of their promotional emails and snagging those sale items. 

always suggests hiking as the team’s team bonding activity. always gets rejected by everyone else. (it’s because the last time they all went hiking as a team, he complained that they were all too slow. he got fed up and went ahead of everyone. they got lost, they blamed him).

camping with him would be a dream!!! builds the tent for you, chops up firewood, sets up the hammocks, etc. he says that it’s because you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, but you both know that he does it because he is a CONTROL FREAK! about his camping gear. 

always on the prowl (that phrase is so funny) for good camping spots. his requirements: body of water nearby. that’s all. 

HAS A PADDLEBOARD!!! i definitelyyy see this being a thing. would take you on lake dates where he paddles you around on it while you read!! would also include his dog on it next to u!

he’s such a dog person btw. into big dogs. i'm thinking dobermans, german shepherds, labradors! he’d want a dog that he could take on long walks and runs. 

SPEAKING OF DOGS I KNOW THIS IS OFF TOPIC FROM THE NATURE HCS BUT I CAN’T STOP so as an athletic trainer (🤓☝️) he would care very much about his dog’s nutrition. researches raw diets and gets high quality things to add to their meals. very dogfather!iwa. 

back to nature. when you go to the beach together and you’re tanning, he’d be digging holes, trying to catch fish, making you play fetch with him, and jumping over waves. guy cannot sit still. eventually you feel bad and let him drag you to the water.

OH and i feel like he would tan so easily?? always outside so it makes sense. always a few shades darker by the end of summer. #needthat.

always finds cool things on his little nature day trips. molted feathers from rare birds, shark teeth, animal footprints, seaglass, you name it. if he’s able to, he brings his treasures home to gift to you like a crow. one day he brings you a rock that perfectly matches your eyes, another day it’s one that matches your hair. 

and lastly, is so good at skipping rocks. gatekeeps his strategy from you (spoiler: there is no strategy, he also doesn't know how he does it).

[neuroticreno]

long day at the office, eh?

[lyricailove]

Does it ever hit you that because of Frank and Monica's emotional detachment, all of the Gallagher's seek out affection from romantic partners? But like to an almost obsessive degree.

Fiona's is obvious. She's hypersexual and falls in love easily. She will downplay her issues with Frank as something she's grown used to, but it's clear that it still affects her. She also does the same when it comes to Monica but I feel like her hostility towards other women comes from how she doesn't trust Monica, doesn't really trust herself, and sees those insecurities on other women. Ex: Her treatment of Mandy and distrust of her around Lip.

Lip is a classic case of a man dealing with his mommy issues by making it every woman's problem. He's hostile towards his romantic partners when they want a real commitment from him and he talks to women with so much disrespect that it's a wonder someone hasn't stomped his ass out yet. He's especially harsh towards his own sisters even though they've been the one's who have been there for him. He may hate Frank but he's noticeably giving and extremely forgiving towards men, even those he's only known for a short while. Almost like the story about the turtle was just as much about him hoping that he could fix Frank as it was about Frank crushing his hopes of a real father figure.

Ian being groomed is in no way his fault and is the fault of the creeps who pursued him. But I can't ignore the fact that Frank's abuse and neglect opened him up the further abuse he suffered at the hands of Kash and Ned. It's no coincidence that both Kash and Ned shower Ian with gifts and compliments about how impressive, smart, and mature he is.

Debbie 1. deals with comphet in the first few seasons, and 2. Feels ignored by her family so she tries to create her own family. Debbie is visibly the one most affected by Frank's issues and even when she for all intents and purposes gives up on him, it still affects her. Frank's hurtful words about her only finding love with someone "just as fucked up as she is" pushes her to put consider a dangerous situation with Heidi. She's also someone who struggles with control issues because she needs to help other people. She's a problem solver by nature. It's just that the two problems she wishes she could solve more than anything are out of her hands (Frank and Monica). She can't fix Frank's addiction, his selfishness, or his abusive tendencies. She can't fix Monica's wanderlust, her avoidance, or her aversion to long-term commitment.

Carl is so good at masking his emotions. It's easy to miss. But then you notice things like his attachment to Fiona, his absolute devotion to the girls he likes, and his need to protect. Carl is hypersexual, even though I've seen it rarely brought up in fandom, and longs for a long-term girlfriend. When he does get girlfriends he's all in from the beginning. When Carl loves someone he is all about them. He's so casual when it comes to talking about Frank and Monica, but that doesn't mean those feelings aren't there and they aren't affecting him.

Liam is still young so we don't get to see him in a relationship. He's the one Gallagher who's consistently treated like an actual kid. Probably the one who has the best chance at healthy emotional attachments. But then again, Fiona leaving most likely did a number on him and we weren't privy to what that looks like for him because the latter seasons forgot how to do long-term storytelling and emotional payoff. All we know is that he doesn't remember Monica, Frank being gone makes him an orphan and he's worried about where he's gonna live because Lip forgot that Liam was technically under Frank's care. We didn't get to see it, but I'd say Liam's first emotional crash is probably on the horizon.

[littlelemontarte]

at the end of the day, it is way too easy to put the entire blame on nuri. dortmund took the first step into the wrong direction back in 2014, when watzke begged klopp to continue coaching dortmund, despite klopp not really wanting to.

the second step (imo) was how they handled the bomb attack on the squad bus in 2017. the management displayed a certain kind of callousness here, that i found hard to harmonize with the idea of dortmund. this idea of a "football team as a family", no matter how fabricated, begun to show the first cracks.

the fourth major one was all the coaches we used up in that time - bosz, favre, rose (i'm not counting stöger cause he did exactly the job they asked him to do. nothing more, nothing less). i find the rose one especially egregious considering they only gave him one season and fired him for???? daring to speak up???

and i'm not even counting all the wrong decisions in the squad planning, even though they of course massively feature into this mess.

and now? we've fully dismantled whatever club ethics we had with chosing Rheinmetall as our sponsor, we've completely ignored key factors they purposefully used to rebuild the club after the club's financial crash in 2005.

how do they fix this.

[aleximustdr4w]

Holiness is a punishment that must be taken with hands folded

Fandom: My Chemical Romance

Pairing: Frerard

Summary: Frank has a secret that needs to get out of his chest, while Gerard, the local church's priest, will be more than glad to show him the way to redemption.

Content Warning: religion, blasphemy, SMUT & (some) BDSM!! keep out of minors. (or read it anyway, im not your mom. youve been warned tho)

Word Count: 4.8 k

Also on AO3

A/N: been having this idea in the back of my mind since I saw gerard dressed as a priest. Sorry if they seem out of character or it's not “lore/timeline friendly” but its my first time writing about them and I find their dynamic very... uhm, fascinating. (Loosely set in the early 2000s)

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Illustrations & moodboard made by me <3

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." Frank sighed, after making the sign of the Cross and closing the confessional door behind him with shaky hands.

The man kneeled down. There was a pause where the walls of the booth felt like they were about to fall down Frank's shoulders. All could be heard was his heavy breathing. He grasped the crucifix of his rosary around his neck in his sweaty palms.

The reverend waited patiently on the other side of the grid that separated them.

"It has been... a long while since my last confession." Frank swallowed. "These are my sins. Well, my sin." He folded his hands, with the cross between his fingers, still.

Another pause where Frank felt like he was being buried alive.

“I can tell your heart is in turmoil.” The Father broke the silence in a soft voice. “What happened?”

“I... I have feelings for another man.” The sentence finally burst out of Frank's lips like he spat out a handful of nine inch nails. He couldn't discern the pastor's expression, but he could tell he was shocked from the movement of his shadow under the yellow light that illuminated that cramped place.

“You have to help me, Father.” Frank continued, his eyes welling up tears. “I don't want to be led into temptation.”

The priest let out a sigh. “Frank, do you mind if we speak face to face?”

“Uh... no, I don't.”

Frank found it difficult to look Father Gerard in the eye after what he had just told him. But, after all, the priest was there on purpose to keep his misdeeds a secret and provide him guidance.

“How long...” The Father tapped his fingers on the hardwood, his gaze wandering. “How long have you been feeling this way?”

“About three months.” Answered Frank, drying up his tears with the jacket's sleeve.

“And does he... know about your feelings for him?” This time the priest looked at Frank.

The man struggled to get himself to glance at Father Gerard in the eye for more than a split second, but he forced himself to raise his head. The priest's green eyes were kind and understanding.

It all started three months ago, when Frank saw him celebrating the first mass of his mandate in town. What caught Frank's attention was the fact that Father Gerard would always wear a leather jacket, his joviality, and how the reverend's eyes would light up during his sermons, which really captured the true meaning of the Lord's word, in a way that no other preacher could do. That's when Frank realized Father Gerard was no ordinary priest.

And that's also when Frank began feeling the proverbial butterflies in his stomach when he had to get ready to go to mass every Sunday: he couldn't wait to go listen to what the priest had to say about that day's gospel and every time he felt like his mind had been opened wider and wider.

As time went on, Frank realized what was happening. He fell into a crisis, throwing himself into intense prayer, relying on the saints for advice and asking God to forgive him, trying so hard to deny the feelings he was developing for the reverend. He stopped going to mass and to confess, in the hope it would've helped his heart forget him, but it made matters even worse, to the point of madness.

“I don't think so.” Said Frank in the end, his eyes watery. “I've been praying to forget about him.”

“You don't need to forget about him.” Smiled the pastor, reaching for the man's hands. “God makes no mistakes: you have to accept your nature, because you were made to His image and likeness.”

Father Gerard's hands were warm and soft, bringing a comforting sensation through Frank's whole body. He felt like Jesus Himself was holding his hand. “But... isn't homosexuality a sin?”

“Don't listen to anyone who says that. They're just charlatans who speak just to give air to their forked tongue.” The pastor looked away for a moment, his brow furrowed. “May Saint Francis Assisi be with you.”

“Th-thank you, Father.” Frank murmured, wondering what the priest had to live through to make him say that. He's really like no other...

“Well,” Said Father Gerard, looking at his watch, “looks like your time is up–”

“Can I meet you after the evening mass tonight?” The words spilled out against Frank's will. “There's something important I have to tell you.”

With a bit of hesitation, the pastor nodded. He traced the sign of the Cross in the air with two fingers. “Go in peace. For now.”

The rectory's door closed with a loud thump behind Frank, while Father Gerard secured the lock.

“Welcome, welcome!” Said the pastor cheerfully, making room for the man to come in.

Frank looked around: the place was decorated with vintage dark wood and long, sumptuous curtains. It was a chilly November evening, so the fireplace was lit, giving the living room a pleasant, comfortable atmosphere. The priest removed the man's coat and hung it on the rack before motioning him to sit on the couch, where Father Gerard soon followed with two glasses and a bottle of wine.

Frank watched the pastor pour the reddish liquid with elegant movements.

“The blood of Christ.” Chuckled Father Gerard, offering him the glass.

“Are we allowed to joke about this?” Asked Frank with a confused smile, before taking the cup.

“Well, I am a priest. I have the right to joke about it.” The pastor smiled again, letting himself fall on the sofa.

They both laughed, raised the glasses and took a sip.

Frank couldn't dare to look Father Gerard in the eye, concentrating his gaze on the wine. “I haven't been completely honest with you.” He eventually broke the silence with a shaking voice.

The pastor tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, perplexed.

“I-I... Oh, Jesus...” It was too late to turn back now. Frank swallowed in his dry throat. “The man I love is you, Father Gerard.”

The priest stared at him, his mouth half open in shock. “Frank...”

"I..." The man let out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry." His voice choked up, and his eyes misted.

“I'm afraid this changes things.” Father Gerard's eyes darkened. “Desire for a man of the cloth transcends sin.”

Frank felt his heart sink and his whole face flush. A knot in his throat was forming, making it hard to speak, like in those nightmares where you want to scream and shout for your life but you feel like your mouth has been stitched shut. He lowered his gaze.

“That's why I want to show you the way to redemption.” Continued Father Gerard, a smirk crossing his face.

Frank looked up. “What... Do you mean?”

The priest's fingers moved to Frank's cheek, making the man's heart rate rise, unable to glance away. The lighting from the fire made Father Gerard's angelic features look more marked, giving him a sinister look.

God, this can't be happening...

As the pastor came closer, he looked up for a moment, whispering something about forgiveness and sin: Frank didn't understand what he said because of the blood thumping in his ears. But before he could process what was going on, Father Gerard's lips touched his.

The kiss lasted for what seemed hours. So much in fact that Frank, when the priest detached himself from him, was left breathless.

“So this is your idea of redemption?” Managed to ask Frank, in between wheezes. “Making things worse?”

Father Gerard blew air out of his nose in amusement. “You have no idea how I could make things way worse for you.” He cupped Frank's face in his hands. “You have no idea.” He repeated, stressing the last words.

Frank raised an eyebrow. “I would like to see you try.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” the man came closer to the priest, “I would love to see you try making things worse.”

Even Frank didn't know what happened to him: what was this newfound confidence and will to submit to sin? Was he drunk after just a sip of wine? Was Gerard the Devil himself in disguise and was he trying to possess him? One thing was sure, he was completely bewitched by the pastor at that point.

Father Gerard let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You don't know what you're getting yourself into.”

“If I don't know, would you show me?”

The priest hesitated for a second, but eventually got up and grabbed the man's hand: “Follow me.”

Frank heard the door close behind him, followed by a latch lock. The bedroom was very modest and ordinary, with a large crucifix above the bed and a desk in the corner filled with stacks of books and papers.

“Frank,” Began Father Gerard, putting his leather jacket on the chair beside the wardrobe, “do you trust me?”

The man, who was busy looking around, turned his head to the priest. “Father –”

The pastor raised a finger. “It's just Gerard to you, now.” He corrected him, throwing the clerical collar behind.

Frank nodded. “Of course I do, Gerard.”

“Very well.” Gerard smiled, walking across the room, reaching for an old-looking dresser that he pulled out from under the bed. It opened with a click after he inserted a key in a rusty lock.

That's when Frank's internal alarm started going off. While Gerard was rummaging in the dresser, looking for God-knows-what, the man thought of taking the opportunity to sneak away, but then he remembered he was locked in there.

“Ah, there it is!” Exclaimed Gerard, getting up soon after with a studded leather collar – wait, was that a ball-gag? – in one hand and a length of rope in the other.

Frank swallowed at the sight of them. Yep, I'm in danger.

“Don't give me that look!” Laughed Gerard, moving closer. He reached for Frank's neck with the collar, but the man dodged him.

“I'm not gonna put that on.” Protested Frank with a grimace.

Gerard came so close to his face that their lips almost touched. “You have no choice on the matter, sweetheart.”

That felt like a spell was put on Frank: his knees got weak and his heart started beating so fast, his head started spinning.

“Be a good boy...” Gerard nearing his lips against Frank's ear.

Those words went down Frank's spine like an electric shock. Something clicked in the back of his head. “S-say it again.” He swallowed.

Gerard chuckled. “Be a good boy for me...” He whispered, then he pressed his lips against the other man's neck, which made him inhale sharply.

All the thoughts about the fear of sinning went out the window as soon as Frank reached for Gerard's lips and they united in a ravenous kiss. They pulled each other closer with fingers running through their hair and exploring their bodies under their shirts and eventually Frank's one fell on the ground.

Gerard caught the occasion to press a hand on Frank's shoulder to make him fall on his knees, guiding him down without detaching himself. “Fold your hands.” He said eventually, while getting up.

Frank, who just realized he was kneeling, looked up at Gerard like a lost dog, but did as he was told.

“Our Father, who art in heaven...” Gerard began chanting, while wrapping the rope around Frank's wrists.

“...Hallowed be thy name.” Continued Frank, his eyes fixed on Gerard, in complete adoration. “Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on Earth, as it is in heaven...” He swallowed, feeling Gerard's breath on his naked skin. “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us...” Gerard had just tied the knot with a tug. “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

“Amen.” They both said in the end, before Gerard leaned in for a kiss.

Gerard's lips were soft and radiated warmth across Frank's shaking body: now that he had a taste of what he craved and yearned for months, he couldn't get enough.

“I think I had a dream like this once...” Murmured Frank once their lips separated.

“Oh yeah?” Gerard's eyes lit up. “Tell me about it.”

Frank felt his whole face flush.

The other's smile widened. “You're so cute when you blush.” He pinched Frank's cheek.

Frank couldn't help but feel humiliated over the fact that Gerard had this much control over him now, but what shocked him the most was the realization that he liked it. He had the nerve to provoke him earlier, but now that he had met his match, he immediately turned into a beaten up dog. And he enjoyed being Gerard's little puppy, all his to tease and torment.

“I, uh... This is so embarrassing, but...” Frank swallowed. "One time I dreamed that... I was confessing my sins, while... Uh..."

"Yes...?" Insisted Gerard, picking up a tick book from the desk pile.

"How do I put this... while..." Frank's gaze shifted from the pavement to the ceiling. "I was giving you... pleasure." The final words poured out of his mouth like a river gushing from its banks.

Gerard raised his head from the book to stare at Frank. "What kind of pleasure are we talking about?" He inquired after a pause, approaching closer to the other, who was making himself tiny by pressing his shoulders against his body.

“You know damn well what I'm talking about.” Scoffed Frank after a while with half a smile, suddenly gaining up the courage to talk back. Gerard already had him tied up; what's next, he was going to take his dignity?

Frank felt a burning ache on his cheek before realizing Gerard had smacked him across the face.

“Pride is a sin. You should know that, Frank.” Gerard's expression went dark; a sinister smile curved his lips while he grabbed Frank by the neck.

Frank was now forced to look Gerard in the eye. “Lust is a sin, too.” He managed to say, through gritted teeth. “You act like you'll be my savior, but you're no different than me.”

Gerard narrowed his gaze, raising an eyebrow. “Want me to show you?”

“What... are you... waiting... for...?” Frank struggled to speak.

“You just can't help yourself from being a little shit, huh?” Gerard tightened the grip,coming closer to his face. “I'll make you regret every decision that led you to this.”

“What if... that's exactly... what I want?” Frank was finding it really hard to breathe.

“Then there's no hope for you.” Gerard's lips touched Frank's.

Frank was beginning to feel lightheaded, his face turning blue.

“Having trouble breathing, huh?” Gerard smirked, squeezing a bit more. “Be a good boy and maybe I'll let you go.”

Frank tried to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth.

“What's that? You want me to choke you more?”

Frank shook his head, beginning to fear for his life. “I beg you, Gerard... P-please let me go...”

“Hmm...” Gerard lifted his gaze to the ceiling, as if to think about it.

Frank squeezed his now teary eyes shut. “Please, I'll be a good boy!” His voice was nothing but a whisper. “I promise...”

Gerard finally let go of Frank's throat.

Frank coughed and gasped for air, collapsing on the ground.

Gerard leaned over him to caress his hair. “You poor thing...”

His condescending tone got on Frank's nerves. The man shot him a death stare, while trying to pull himself up by the elbows.

“Aw, that look again?” Gerard leaned over him and inclined his head. “Don't act like you're not enjoying yourself.” He nodded at the man's crotch with a grin.

Frank looked down, unaware until then of his erection, visible through his jeans. He instinctively closed his legs, his face turning red and his body becoming stiff.

Gerard let out a giggle before helping Frank get up on his knees again. He caressed the man's neck with his fingers and tongue.

Frank didn't know what to think anymore: how could Father Gerard be both his butcher and savior? How was it possible he not only accepted, but wanted to be treated like a dog by him? He looked for Gerard's lips to suck on, to which the other responded with nibbling on his neck, where there were still the imprints of his fingers, where it hurt. Frank let out a soft whimper.

Shit...

How did we get to this...?

Gerard smiled, picking up the bible that he left at the foot of the bed earlier, without stopping kissing and biting Frank on the neck, lips and cheeks. “I called on your name, O Lord, from the depths of the pit...” He began reading, “You heard my plea – Do not close your ear to my cry for help!”

Frank nestled his face on Gerard's shoulder, kissing his neck, inebriated by his scent.

“You came near when I called on you; you said – Do not fear!” Gerard continued with heavy breath, but maintained his composure; he emphasized the last sentence, just like when he'd read the Lord's word during mass. He paused to sit on the bed, unbuckling his belt.

“You have taken up my cause, O Lord...” Gerard grabbed Frank by the hair and guided him to his lap; the other didn't waste any time, proceeding to unzip his pants with his teeth, noting that not only Gerard had already a hard-on, but he was also not wearing any underwear.

Frank turned up, as if in search of approval.

Gerard flashed him a smirk, shoving his face between his legs; then, he continued: “You have redeemed my life...”

Frank tasted Gerard in his mouth before he realized it, which was... different that what he expected, but then again, he never gave head to another man before, so who knows what he was hoping for. He managed to take it deep in his throat, stayed in that position for a bit, then he quickly pulled back, breathless; but that didn't stop him from lapping Gerard's shaft and kissing his tip soon after.

“You have seen the wrong d-done to me, O-Oh, Lord... j-judge my cause...” Gerard was beginning to stutter, to breathe heavily. “Y-you have seen all... their vengeance... O-oh fuck...” He inhaled sharply, throwing back his head.

Frank looked up for a second: with his languid eyes and half-parted lips, Gerard was the closest thing to a divine apparition he'd ever seen.

Gerard smiled at Frank, grabbing his hair and instructing him to keep going in between wheezes, as the other went down on him hard and fast, bobbing his head up and down, drooling all over the ground.

Frank felt the grip on his hair getting tighter and tighter, realizing he let out groans every time. Gerard, in the meantime, was becoming a mess, panting curse words, exhaling his name and praising him.

Frank refused to take a break until he felt Gerard's warmth running down his throat: the load was thick and plentiful, to the point that part of it spilled out on his lips and on the pavement. He detached himself before licking his lips.

Gerard, who watched the whole scene in astonishment, raised Frank's head by the chin, caressing his cheek with his thumb.

“That's the...” Frank finally caught his breath.

“The Holy Spirit.” Continued Gerard, promptly.

They both burst out laughing.

“What I meant to say,” Clarified Frank while Gerard helped him get up, “is that this was my first time with a guy.”

“Really? I'm guessing it's your first time with a priest too.”

“Well... It doesn't happen often, that's for sure.” Frank moved his hands towards Gerard. “Would you kindly...?”

Gerard raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I'm not done with you.”

The last bits of a smile that Frank had got wiped away from that single sentence, eyes wide. “Excus – ?”

The man didn't have the time to finish the question that Gerard was already behind him: his warm hands on his naked skin gave him the shivers for the temperature shock. “C'mon, it's only fair, don't you think?” Gerard whispered in his ear, his right hand wandering from his chest down to his waist and finally unbuttoning his jeans. “And... the confession is not over...” He continued, kissing and licking Frank's cheek.

“What do you me–?” Gerard pushed Frank on the bed, joining him soon after, straddling him.

“Hi.” Said Gerard after a pause, his face inches from Frank's.

“H-Hey...”

Gerard planted his lips on Frank's.

The other kissed back, trying so hard to move his head forward to taste as much as possible of Gerard's mouth; he would've grabbed his hair and pulled him closer, wrapping his arms and legs around his shoulders and waist and grind against him until he couldn't take it anymore and have him inside him, but all he could do was stay still, completely blocked by Gerard, who was running his fingers, tongue and teeth all over his body, which drove Frank crazy, making him a panting and groaning mess.

Gerard gently moved Frank's arms upward with one hand and put the other inside his pants. A grin spread across his lips while a moan escaped Frank's mouth.

Gerard began motioning his hand up and down Frank's shaft, slowly at first, then increasingly faster, while watching the man lose control of his own body, squirming and breathing heavily. “So, about the dream... Care to tell me now?”

“I... I was sucking you off while confessing my sins to you.” Frank blurted out, in between pants, diverting his eyes from the other man. “We were in the confessional.”

“And did you enjoy it?” Gerard grabbed Frank by the chin to force him to look at him in the eye, his other hand continuing to jerk Frank off faster and faster.

“Uh-huh...” The man admitted. “I... I touched myself to that. Many times.”

A smirk crossed Gerard's face. “You're so nasty...”

Frank felt a familiar tingle running through his body. “Yes I am, Gerard. I am a sinner.” That's the moment he sprayed his cum all over Gerard's hand.

Gerard brought his fingers to his mouth to lick them, crossing Frank's gaze and grinning.

“Uh... Gerard...?”

“Yes?”

“I want you inside me...”

Gerard shot a glance at him, visibly caught off guard. “Are you sure?”

Frank nodded, his eyes closed and his cheeks red. “Make me holy...”

Gerard blew out air from his nose, lying his face against Frank's shoulder blade. “Well... Since you're asking so nicely...” He gently pulled down Frank's jeans to the ankles, kissing and biting his skin until he arrived at Frank's inner thighs. “It's gonna take a while,” Warned Gerard, after lifting his head and placing his hands on Frank's knees, to spread his legs. “And I'm out of lube, too...” He added, more as an out-loud thought.

“Can't you spit on it?”

A short pause.

“You really want me to fuck your ass, don't you?” Gerard chuckled.

“I just think you're the right man to take my virginity.” Said Frank, giggling as well.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. No one's better than a priest at that.” Gerard talked back, spitting generously on his hands. “At least you're sure no one's gonna know it, huh?” He took position while lubricating himself. “Ready?”

Frank nodded.

Gerard carefully penetrated him, trying to be as slow and gentle as possible. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“A lil' bit.” Informed Frank, “But I like it.”

A groan escaped Gerard's lips as he went inside, leaning closer to cover the man's face in kisses as he motioned back and forth.

Frank closed his eyes, letting himself drown in the affection and pleasure that was given to him and searching for Gerard's lips to suck and nibble on in turn. “F-faster.” He murmured at some point.

“Hmm, what did ya say?” The other smirked, narrowing his gaze.

“Faster, please.” Frank swallowed, speaking more clearly.

Gerard gradually accelerated the rhythm, as Frank arched his back more and more at every neck kiss, every touch of the waist, every stroke of his erection, moaning louder and louder. “You're... So... Pathetic...” Exhaled Gerard in Frank's neck, in between three powerful strokes.

Frank let out a whimper of a wounded dog, making Gerard go even harder on him while Frank pulled him closer by locking his legs around his waist, to which the other responded by biting and sucking on Frank's skin near his shoulder blade that bruised almost immediately.

Their breaths harmonized as Gerard threw his head back. “I'm... I'm close...” He informed in between wheezes.

“Me too.” Frank nodded in turn.

Gerard kept going faster, his grip on Frank's waist tightening, while panting and cursing. As they both came – one inside and the other all over his own chest –, he stopped, his eyes wide open just as his mouth. He let out a loud groan after a second and leaned close to Frank, with a satisfied smile on his face.

They united in a final, desecrated kiss.

“Wow. Just... wow.” Gerard fell on the bed beside Frank, extracting a cigarette from a packet. “I haven't had this much fun since seminary!”

Frank giggled at that but didn't feel like investigating further, thinking that maybe the questions he had were better left unanswered for now.

Gerard lit up his cigarette. “Wanna take a drag?” He asked, looking at the man, after exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Frank gladly accepted: “Thanks,” he said taking a pull, “I forgot to buy some before coming here.”

“Now that you smoked my cig, you're my bitch now, y'know?” Smirked Gerard, as he took the cigarette from Frank's hands.

The other raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was very clear that I am your bitch now. Y'know, since you fucked my ass.”

Gerard let out smoke from his nose, amused. “You're right, you're right.” He flickered the cigarette to make the ash fall on the tray on his bedside table, observing the hickey he gave Frank on the shoulder. He reached out to touch it. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes. Everything.” Replied Frank, rubbing his wrist.

“Sorry, I might got carried away –”

Frank raised his hand. “It's okay.” He smiled. “I don't mind the pain.” As long as it was you.

Gerard gave Frank what remained of the cigarette and moved closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, while Frank, dragging smoke, put his head on Gerard's chest.

“Was I a good boy?” Asked Frank after a while.

“The best boy.” Said Gerard softly, kissing his cheek.

“Have I earned my way to redemption?” Frank asked again, looking at the other.

Gerard shot a thoughtful glance at the crucifix. “I think so, yeah. Three Hail Mary's and you're good.”

They both laughed.

They stayed in silence for what seemed a long time, until Gerard let out a yawn and got up from the bed.

Frank stood up as well, threw away the cigarette butt, then he looked for the rest of his clothes.

Gerard helped him get dressed up. “Oh wait –” He traced his finger up on Frank's chest, picking up a drop of cum. “I know for a fact this doesn't come off clothes easily.”

Frank put the other's finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

Gerard observed him with bewilderment in his eyes.

“What's that look about, huh?” The man shot a glance at him, presenting his best shit-eating grin.

Gerard let out a chuckle before leaning over to kiss him.

As Frank was buttoning his shirt and wandering around the room, he moved closer to have a peek at the notebook left open; in front of him was a freshly inked portrait of a man with his same haircut: long, black bangs and red side-shaves; he had red eye shadow and crosses drawn on his eyes. The lines of the illustration were thick and the colors used were bold, reminding him of the action comics he'd read as a kid.

“If you're wondering,” Explained the other, “that's not you. Well, at least not entirely. I like to take inspiration from people I see around me, and make... characters out of them.”

“This is awesome!” Commented Frank, brushing his fingers on the paper, afraid to ruin it.

“You want it? I can give it to you. Here, let me sign it.” Gerard picked up a marker, scribbled his signature near the portrait, took off the sheet from the notebook and gave it to Frank.

“Thank you so much!” Frank moved his gaze between him and the drawing.

“Thank you, Frank.” The other smiled, after giving him one last tender kiss.

As Frank walked home, he couldn't stop glancing at the artwork, imprinting a wide smile on his face. He sighed, as the same thought that he had before repeated in the back of his head: Father Gerard really is no ordinary priest.

[samuraionyourmom]

Nono please add more souloku omegaverse headcanons. I was listening.

Sure! I have many thoughts, so I'm glad to see that others were interested in my ramblings lol. Let's get into it!

Looking at Chuuya, he is clearly someone who could easily have power over others from how strong his ability is, but as we see with the Sheep, he doesn't enjoy it. He doesn't enjoy being in positions of power. What he does enjoy is looking out for others, people he considers his family. Orginally, he thought he had to lead them to that, but as we see at the end of the 15 arc, he learns that isn't the case. I imagine that Chuuya tried very hard to be the big, strong Alpha that one thinks of when hearing the word while he was in the Sheep, but it never felt quite right.

As I see it, I don't think Chuuya would enjoy being the stereotypical Alpha who flaunts their scent all over the place, taking up as much space as they can, being dominate in every sense of the word and reveling in the power they have over others. Chuuya's "Alpha-ness" would manifest as more of a protective feeling rather than a possessive one. He doesn't want to OWN someone, but PROVIDE for them. He wants to be the person they can come to for support. Like, he if he were to smell an Omega in heat, his thoughts wouldn't be that he needed to claim them, but get them to safety. Does that make sense? I hope it does.

At first, this instinct clashed with Dazai because Dazai takes it as Chuuya looking down on him for being an Omega, and rejects it. He doesn't need protection. He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself without some bleeding-heart of an Alpha sniffing around in his business. Because from Dazai's point of view, he needs to be in charge of absolutely everything, so he can't afford to be some weak Omega submitting to the will of whatever Alpha he comes across.

They clash and argue because from their respective views, the other is being unreasonable. Chuuya just wants to look out for Dazai, not out of pity, but to be partners that face the world together. Maybe he wants to prove he's capable of protecting people after how badly he failed with the Sheep (and later, the Flags) and sometimes, he pushes past the boundary to the point of being overbearing. Dazai, on the other hand, is fighting with the deep insecurity that he isn't something worthy of being protected, and once Chuuya finds out that he can't do the things other omegas do (he barely has heats anymore and getting pregnant is basically impossible at this point) that he'll leave. So he pushes Chuuya away before he has the chance to get close, snarling and biting with all his might to show him he's wasting his time.

They're both hurting and bad at communicating, but eventually, they learn to let their guard down and say what they're really feeling. Chuuya learns to be less overbearing when it comes to his need to protect, to give Dazai space when he needs it. Dazai learns to let his walls down and let Chuuya see him for who he really is; hurt, but still worthy of love and care. They both don't fit into the expecting that come with their secondary gender, but that's what makes them human.

Tldr; Chuuya isn't the dominating kind of alpha. He prefers to protect and provide for people. Dazai hates his omega qualities and tries to get rid of them, but slowly learns that it isn't something to be ashamed of and learns to let others in and lend a hand.

These always end up being longer than I wanted, lol. I hope this satisfies your desire for more. I love these two so much. They're my babies. I want them to be happy. My boys!!

[ohthewh0rror]

LETS TAKE 5.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — Can you fix the fractures in your relationship or is it doomed to shatter?

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

You knew when agreeing to be with Tom that, in some way, you’d always come in second place. During your school years, it was to his academics. Now that the two of you have graduated, it seems he’s found a new venture to spend his time on. It didn’t bother you as much while you two were in school, but now that you’re adults, it’s becoming harder to overlook.

"What do you want? For me to throw away and forget all that I've been working towards?" Tom asked, his voice raising to almost a yell. What he said just left you even more confused. Throw away what he’s been working towards? Does he mean the pay raise at Borgin and Burkes? Because truthfully you were happy about the thought of a pay raise. The two of you weren’t exactly well off, and it was a struggle to keep up with the bills you two had, so it’d be a much welcomed raise. You sighed, exasperated, you truly couldn’t believe this had turned into an argument, “no! All I'm asking for is some of your time."

Time: something he didn’t seem to have for you lately.

You just wanted him to take a step back and spend more time with you when not working. It seems like you aren’t even second place anymore, whatever he’s researching took second place. You’ve tried asking him what he’s looking into, but he’s tight-lipped. Any question and peek over his shoulder at his writings have been brushed off. The only time he gave you some semblance of an answer was just to tell you that it’s for something he’s been working on since his years at Hogwarts.

Tom speaking jolted you from your thoughts, “and what makes you so worthy of my time?”. Your heart plummeted as you forced yourself to stay rooted in your spot, eyes locked on his. It wasn’t the worst thing he has said to you, but the sneer on his face combined with his choice words made you feel small. Insignificant. Like you were just some stranger standing before him, and not his significant other of 3 years.

Your mind raced for an answer, but you kept drawing short. The reality of meaning so little to him left you feeling numb. The only thing you wanted now was to leave and collect yourself, to try and talk yourself out of making the rash decision of ending things permanently.

"That is a new low, even for you Tom,” you took a deep breath, “but it is nice to finally know where I stand with you.” You could feel your face get hot as tears blurred your vision, threatening to spill over. “Yes, it was time you learned your place,” Tom said, his gaze cold and unrelenting. You gave a quick nod, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. Grabbing your coat and purse you decided it was time to leave, you could only hope your closest friend didn’t mind you coming over unannounced.

Tom made no move to stop you, and though you knew it wouldn’t happen, a small part of you wish Tom’s collected demeanor would crack. That he would beg you not to leave, telling you he was just upset and acting like an ass. But that wasn’t Tom, the world would crumble to ash before he acted in such a way.

Instead, he let you leave.

You had been at your friends house for a week before you heard anything from Tom. The morning you finally got an owl from him had been a beautiful morning. You could hear the chirping of morning birds as rays of sunlight filtered in through the crack of the curtains. Taking your time to get out of bed and get ready for the day as you had no plans. And, most importantly, no one to answer to. It was a foreign, but freeing feeling that you were getting more accustomed to by the day.

You had just put the final touches on your hair, getting ready to go out and do some shopping when there was a sharp tapping on the bedroom window. You peaked back into the room and saw an owl perched on the window sill, patiently waiting for the letter to be taken. Walking to the window, you opened it, gingerly taking the note and sending the owl off with a treat as payment.

Opening the note it read:

12:45 — Meet me at Honeyshine’s.

— T.R.

‘Straight to the point, I guess,’ you thought to yourself. But then again, why would you ever think otherwise. Looking at the clock you saw you had an hour until you had to meet him. At least that left you just enough time to browse the other stores in the area and maybe find something nice for yourself.

Unsurprisingly, Tom was already there, waiting for you outside the door when you walked up. Nothing about Tom ever seemed to change, and you didn’t think it ever would. Tom opened the door for you, placing a hand on the small of your back, guiding you in. Neither of you spoke a word until the both of you had been seated, tucked away in a corner away from everyone.

“How have you been?” Tom asked. The question irked you if you were being honest. The way he could act so casual, like your relationship wasn’t consumed by hairline fractures that threatened the very foundation of your bond. But, you’d play along if that’s what kept the peace, even just for a moment longer.

“I've been alright,” you said. Tom gave you a silent nod, his face giving away nothing about how he truly felt. It made you nervous, was this the day that you and Tom went your separate ways? You’d hope the day would never come, but if he wanted to leave you, you weren’t going to stop him. The relationship has begun to feel so one sided, you wondered if Tom truly wanted you around or if he just liked the idea.

The idea of someone waiting for him at the end of the day. Someone to go home to, unwind with. So it’s not just an empty apartment waiting for him, the stillness of the empty rooms reminding him that he is alone in this world. Though, perhaps you were just reading too much into Tom. He never was the sentimental type, you doubt he thought of things that way.

Reaching across the table, Tom’s hand grabbed yours, his thumb running across your fingers. He opened his mouth, before closing it again, seemingly rethinking what he was going to say. After a beat he brought your hands to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “I…apologize…for what I said to you. A part of my research led to a dead end and I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

So that’s what he was talking about that day. That Merlin-forsaken research; that was an argument for another day though. The fate of your relationship was teetering on the edge of ending, and you’d rather be in a stable place in your relationship before bringing it up again.

You stared at Tom for a while, letting him hold your hand from across the table. Neither of you said anything as you thought over his words.

The idea of walking away was tempting you; whispering sweet words in your ear about how free you’ve felt the past week. How you got to dress how you wanted, to lay in bed for however long you wanted, and talk to who you wanted. It almost seemed your best options was to count your losses and walk away while given the opportunity. But, something kept you from getting out of the chair and calling him out on his terrible apology.

The poisonous words of insecurity and dependency hissing in the opposite ear being the reason you were still seated. It was urging you to accept the apology. Telling you how Tom was your first everything, and you shouldn’t rush to leave him because of a silly argument. What if you never find anyone else? What if Tom is the only one willing to put up with you? Do you really want to leave him behind, especially when neither of you have anyone else?

You looked away, weighing your options, though you already knew what you were going to do. Tom’s hand that was holding yours, let your hand go as it came up to cup your cheek. Immediately your head tilted, leaning further into his touch. It almost scared you how quickly this man could have you back under his thumb with just a little bit of his attention. A small smile graced his face, as he knew you’d forgiven him, and it served to only further pull you in.

Affection was hard to come by with Tom, and he had you eating out the palm of his hand with just the simplest touch, “let’s get home, I will show you just how much I missed you this past week.”

You knew you’d always be last on his list of priorities, but if it meant getting the smallest of affection from Tom then you’d learn to live with your place in his life.

[ashpkat]

i have an agenda

bonus:

[armandposting]

that moment for daniel is also why (other than the fact that armand doesnt see his abuse this way and isn't really ready/doesn't want someone to do this for him) Daniel revenge fantasies don't really work for me except as the occasional AU treat for me personally. when IM feeling fragile about armand and want to read about this it's cathartic. but if I'm thinking from armands perspective it makes no sense unless a lot of time and character development has elapsed. and something I struggle with when writing armand is that I don't know if he'll ever really want to see marius in a negative way and I kind of think that's fine? I think it would be healthy if he stopped seeing marius and also if lestat made an effort to not idolize him all the time but I don't think armand necessarily needs or would be inclined to see him negatively in order to move on (at least, not until/if the benji and sybelle stuff happens). and I certainly don't think he has any reason to trust Daniel to facilitate that for him. this is all kind of why I landed the way I did on "I am a man." That fic is about armand explaining his amadeo period to Daniel (a Daniel who is several years and a stable relationship removed from s2, work I wasn't interested in doing on page in that particular fic) but never in that fic is armand like "oh yeah I've decided fuck marius now." he's like no actually these were, to me, the best and safest years of my life, and I cannot throw away marius's position in my mind without throwing all of that away too.

i really do love exploring armand being angry at marius and I think he dessrves to be if he wants, but I think it needs to be pretty hard-earned and rest on an overall development of a sense of self strong enough to a) recognize in the first place that marius's conception of armand as his own person has always been shaky and b) recognize that he doesn't deserve that. but its also understandable to me that he could recognize these things and still be I'm a space where marius did ultimately give him the best years of his early life by comparison. and I don't think daniel is really the best outlet for that in any event when, if Daniel does tear marius down, it'll be because daniel just enjoys tearing garbage men and hypocrites down for his own sake.