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@bulletsandgasoline
🎱
ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ 🎱 ⁱ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉ, ⁱ’ˡˡ ᵈʳᵒᵖ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿ ⁽ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗⁱⁿᵍ⁾
―― from a very young age, CONSTANCE insisted tate learn to play piano, enrolling him in weekly lessons and enforcing strict practice in the home. the boy excelled at the instrument until somewhere around the age of TEN, when he realized how effective of a weapon refusing to play for his MOTHER truly was. from that point forward, he would frequently sit in REFUSAL to play or practice, and has rarely if ever touched keys after the age of THIRTEEN, again.
🎱
ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ 🎱 ⁱ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉ, ⁱ’ˡˡ ᵈʳᵒᵖ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿ ⁽ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗⁱⁿᵍ⁾
――despite being best known for his love of BIRD RELATED literature, tate’s other favorites include byron, palanhuik, bret easton ellis, slyvia plath, and vonnegut. he has always had a soft spot for the TRENDY teen angst novels and anything banned too (catcher in the rye, the bluest eye, brave new world, etc.)
For every 🎱 I receive, I’ll drop a random headcanon.
this post includes dialogue spoilers for netflix’s apostle. you’ve been warned.
feel free to change pronouns / wording !
“ please bring me home. ”
“ they’re blasphemers. ”
“ you’ll want for nothing here. ”
“ don’t tell. ”
“ compassion is no crime. ”
“ where is the land which has no call for wars ? ”
“ here you are, and there you suffer. ”
“ we have an intruder. ”
“ did you miss me ? ”
“ no one will ever stop me taking care of you. ”
“ i was of a mind i could put my faith in you. ”
“ i beg your forgiveness. ”
“ forgive my lack of grace. ”
“ kneel … if you would be so kind. ”
“ if your blood has been shed in my name, i shed mine for you. ”
“ you have my word. ”
“ how dare you ! ”
“ make yourself known. ”
“ her life is in your hands ! ”
“ slowly, or your body will reject it. ”
“ i’ll see to it that no one harms you. ”
“ it’s called ‘ fun. ’ you should try it. ”
“ are you going to ask me to dance ? ”
“ your eyes … they’ve seen things. ”
“ if you meet any trouble, use this. ”
“ the promise of the Divine is but an illusion. ”
“ nothing in this world is pure. ”
“ beware of false prophets which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. ”
“ you monster ! ”
“ please be not who i fear you have become. ”
“ i am going to get you out of here. ”
“ may god be with you. ”
“ leave me. ”
“ you’ll never make it. ”
“ i can’t feel my legs. ”
“ this world has taken so much from me. ”
“ pray for me. ”
// new theme, new icons, new formatting, and tweaked rules / about page, y’all. new tagging system coming soon. ♥
pillsandsorrow:
Trust. Trust was such a powerful word in this day and age. It was honestly hard to think of any other scenario for this place, other than it being incredibly left field. This wasn’t like him at all. Secret club houses? “What are you, five?” Violet teased him and gave his hand an equally firm squeeze. “You could have at least made a tree house. I’m disappointed in you, Tate.” It was all sarcasm and playfulness of course. Her Converse sneakers had nearly fallen over a loose tree root in the foliage, but he had a good enough grip on her that she didn’t tumble to the ground or trip.
Watch your step. No shit. The first thing the blonde noticed, was the candles lit every which way. It was extremely romantic. A little cliche, but still hit home in the ways of her heart. “You built this?” Her hazel gaze took inspection of the wide and strong lumber, all the way to the perfectly installed screws. That was until something caught her eye in the dim lighting And just like that, her hope fizzled out like a wet candle. There were a few cans, perhaps veggie cans or soup cans–with bullet holes in them. Why on earth would a teenage boy have a secret clubhouse and something that he used for target practice?
So peculiar. Her lips pulled up into a smile, still slightly irked by the cans that stayed off to the side. “It’s really nice.” Honesty was in her eyes as well as adoration. “You did all this for me?” Violet smirked, glad she had left the rose in the car. The last thing she needed was to drop it along the way or mess it up. As soon as the girl would get home, she would put that in water. Not sure how long it would last though.
Slowly, but surely, the teen was putting the pieces together. They both hated everyone at school mutually. But he had been more quiet lately, almost calculating before she got there. He seemed to be talking to himself a lot, before Violet approached him at Westfield. Tate would always look tired too, blank. As if he couldn’t feel any pain or remorse, he was just a blank slate. Numb.
Still, the equal hate of their school and gun training practice…she was finally starting to figure it out. Her first instinct was to call the police, but Constance probably was too broke to bail him out. In her heart, Vi knew that she had to get into his house soon, just to check his things. Sadly, the girl was the worst liar in the world; and Tate could see right through her. “This isn’t about candles or hand built club houses.” Her tone was concerned, but firm. “What you’re thinking of doing, is going to get you killed. I watch the news. It always comes down to two options, killing yourself or go out fighting.” There were tears in her eyes. She turned his chin to face her, holding the soft warmth of his cheek with the opposite.
“Don’t ever leave me, Tate Langdon. I don’t care what vendetta you have, fuck them. Stay with me.”
―― and just like THAT, the magic of the moment he’s worked so hard to craft is broken. with the touch of her hands guiding his gaze, her skin ever so slightly COLD against the flush that’s working its way up his cheeks, he locks eyes with her in a seriousness he hadn’t anticipated jarring the levity of their evening out. she doesn’t KNOW, has no proof. it’s too much of a stretch that she’s figured it out, not matter how smart he knows his counterpart to be. there’s nothing here that screams ‘i’m buidling pipe bombs!’, nothing she can truly use to SHOW any tangible evidence against him, but his heart is beating out of control with the sudden realization that letting ANYONE into his world ― even the girl he loves ― may have been a grave and SERIOUS error.
❝ what the hell are you TALKING about, vi? i’m not leaving you. jesus, this is supposed to be our first date ― like, y’know, our first REAL one, anyway. why would i leave you? ❞
there’s no way in HELL he’s confessing anything, not until or unless he absolutely has to.
avaadoretm:
A smirk plays against her lips,hand running through her mess of blonde curls,she looks up at her best friend,“But you do them so well,Tate.’‘She says with a small laugh,giving him a playful nudge against his arm,smirking. She watches him as he rolls up the joint,licking her lips,antsy already to take a hit. She has zero self control when it came to smoking pot. She’s glad she didn’t join any sports,the teams at Westfield were super strict about what the players could and couldn’t do,and pot was one of the things on the can’t do list. ’'Sucks you joined the track team. But you’re the best fuckin’ runner we’ve got.’'She looks up at him and gives him a smirk.
❝ hey, i’m GOOD at it, though, ❞ he says with a shrug, hitting the on switch on the box fan beside them before offering her a silver zippo to begin her FUN. amphetamines were out of the system much faster than pot and twice as entertaining in his book, anyway. ❝ besides, i had to do something to get constance off my back about flunking world history last semester. and it worked. ❞
hailmcry:
SHE FEELS JUST A TAD GUILTY. she’s interrupting his afterlife, or whatever he has of one, on a silly notion that she could try to find the woman that gave her life. she worries her bottom lip when he affirms he is, in fact, tate langdon, and stiffens when THE VOICES say it’s true. she takes a deep, deep breath before opening her mouth, but not quite brave enough to look him in the eyes:
“the lady that carried me in her tummy knew you. i don’t know how, just that she did. i don’t know if she’s alive, or…like you,” the little girl makes herself smaller in the chair. for someone that boasts about being fearless, this is the bravest thing she’s ever done. “i, i think her name was flower hardon ?? flower hayman ?? harmon ?? if you know her, if she’s with you, can you tell her thank you for giving me up ?? for giving me my mommy ?? i promise not to bother you ever again.”
that’s all she wants—she just wants to thank her. she just hopes the voices are right about him.
blood runs like ICE in his veins at the mention of her name. there has to be a MISTAKE, something he’s missing. or it’s all a goddamned joke. he is torn between the urge to grab the child by the shoulders and SHOUT in her face, demand to know what she’s prattling on about, and the desire to RUN as far and as fast as possible from whatever it is she is about to make a part of his world. oh, beautiful cognitive dissonance ― he knows he won’t be holding onto it much longer.
❝ VIOLET HARMON. ❞ the words barely choke through audibly as his hands begin to tremble. ❝ violet. but she didn’t ― you can’t be. ❞
warycarrie:
His concern for her touched her deeper than he probably realized. She’d never had someone who truly looked out for her like that. It felt so foreign… but pleasantly so. She shrugged at his question, eyes looking off to the side. “Three days. I’ve gone a lot longer.” She said it as if being starved was the most normal thing in the world, because for her, it was. She’d been able to eat at school, even if the free lunches were often expired, it had been something. Now things were much worse again, like they’d been when she was a toddler. She was completely at her mother’s mercy, and there was little to be done about it. “It’ll be okay. Mama wouldn’t kill me… she loves me, just not in a healthy way.”
❝ BULLSHIT she does. ❞
He doesn’t exactly intend to spit the curse rather than say it to the fragile girl, but it HAPPENS. a sigh of frustration passes his lips as he tries a DIFFERENT approach, one that will hopefully be a touch less frightening for the girl and coax her into just taking the goddamned apple. he has no doubt that the old broad WILL kill carrie, one day. today is just another day he can try to change that course of action.
❝ love doesn’t lock you up in a room for DAYS with nothin’ to eat, carrie. look at yourself ― you’re terrified to take an APPLE. ❞
moralslefttodecay:
“no,” he breathed through clenched teeth. “you’ll just run away again, like you always do. how do i know when i let you go that you’ll talk to me?” tate was treading a fine line here. michael had already shown how poorly he handled his emotional reactions, how he was ready to burn up anyone who he mildly didn’t like. how long could tate avoid him before michael grew into the impression that he’d never get the satisfaction he craved out of their talk and did away with him out of sheer spite alone?
“promise me on something important that you won’t run.” he needed this, and he wasn’t going to back down, not today.
―――― he’s more than EARNED the distrust, no doubt about that, but it seems so superfluous from one who could quite literally ANNIHILATE his soul where he stood if the mood so strikes him. not that tate is fully aware of the scope of his powers ― only that michael is capable of some BAD SHIT, spooky shit, should he moved to a comparable level of anger. as frequently as he’s pulled his disappearing act in the past with his wayward spawn, he’s smart enough to know it is in his BEST interest not to piss michael off, tonight. hands up in a DEFENSIVE position, he sighs in resignation.
❝ i swear. on ― shit, i don’t KNOW. on violet? that good enough for you?❞
... just don’t fucking MURDER me or whatever, you little psychopath.