✟✟✟

Independent Malkavian Priest OC. Written by Fish.

[fcrgivemefather]

PROS / CONS OF DATING MY MUSE

name: damien species: human, vampire sexuality: gay

PROS:

this guy. oh man. he’s just the sweetest little guy. he will love you and dote on you but not in a clingy way! he’s just thankful for you and wants to do what he can to make the lives of those he cares about easy and happy.

his smile... like a cup of hot chocolate in front of a fireplace, snug under a blanket on a quiet snowy evening.

speaking of blankets: his embrace. no, not the vampire kind. the holding kind. oh man, he gives some good hugs. shame he doesn’t get many as he deserves em - you’ll fix that, right?

he has a tendency to record his thoughts in his notebooks - sometimes as words, sometimes as sketches. you can absolutely bet he’s sketched you at least one time, perhaps when you were gazing at the stars, the only star he saw being in front of him. 

did you know this man can garden? hell yeah he can! he has a few fruit trees, vegetables, and flowers growing around his haven. watch him show you his flowers, and make them more beautiful by placing them in your hair.

in peaceful, spare moments, he has a tendency to hop on the piano and play. he’ll either improv or play some gentle melodies. if you can nudge him past the shyness, he might even sing; request some abba or maybe elton john and you’ll witness that winning smile for sure.  

his touch is gentle, and despite his condition, he makes sure it stays warm. this man loves touching. gentle caresses of your face, entwining your fingers, tracing the lines in your back...

and yes, this extends into intercourse. if you make it that far, then know he is dedicated to you. he wants to explore you, worship you, devour you. all he wants is for you to understand - to feel - his devotion. there is no better way for him to finish than to put you into a state of utter bliss. he is a priest, after all - it’s his job to have you praying to god, and he’s damn good at it.

HOWEVER. if what would get YOU there is him melting in a puddle... honey, hes your pathetic little meow meow. he’ll show you how to pray.

CONS:

okay im gonna get the obvious outta the way. do i gotta say it? the reflection. that’s a whole list of its own bs.

this man needs therapy. like. big time. he is constantly teetering on the edge of mental collapse and honestly its amazing how he’s kept his grip this long

if you look up the definition of guilt ridden, there’s a picture of damien. buddy can’t catch a break.

he is constantly starving himself, so he is in constant pain. he may find it very hard to be around you at times, and if you try to force your company - even if it is to help - he will freak out and potentially accidentally hurt you in an attempt to stay away.

he tends to lock his worries and concerns away, believing them to be his burden to suffer alone. it is very hard to get him to open up, even to those closest. there’s a good chance this may cause occasional strains on the relationship.

sometimes, this dude ends up getting caught up in some very, very dangerous situations - malicious spirits, rabid creatures, vindictive hunters. he could disappear for a while and come back, bloody and bruised. who knows when he won’t. most worryingly, he doesn’t seem to concerned.

no day time dates. :(

[audreyhepbuns]

[feralove-deactivated20230128]

i can tell from the look in your eyes, oh, my love. i won’t make it out dead or alive, no, my love. ❥

[fcrgivemefather]

indeath​:

nour understands. he understands that damien has sought to heal more than his own wounds. that when father places a hand on his like he is congregation it comes earnest with prayer. there is beauty in wounds. there is warmth in damien’s centuries, warmth that he fostered into a hearth. damien is the last man standing at the pier before sunrise. what answer does nour have ? he thinks, distinctly, there should be shame in the way he is.

because his answer is : i would cut myself to make you put me back together. i would find a wound so deep and tear it to test that resolve to hold on. and he has before, with others. taken the knife to show them a deeper pain. and burned so bright that he singed at the peek of the sun. and he took them down with him, he always did. what shame is there in a night of pleasure. you should say how you really feel. let it go, drift over the horizon.  

are they going to be okay ? he watches damien’s notes, waits quietly until those final notes echo through the hall and rests a hand on those shivering fingers. 

It’s strange, how even after all these decades, he always found himself amazed by the power of music. Without a single word he felt as if he’d exposed his soul, bleeding wounds open to the stars, finally letting them flow after years of accumulating. It left him shaking and weak; vulnerable before Nour. He hadn’t allowed himself to even peak past the walls he’d built to protect himself and yet with the right notes and the right audience, they’d come crumbling down at last. There was no concealing it now.

The delicate touch of Nour’s hand ached him to the very core, awakening a yearning he had not noticed he’d had. Like a life preserver thrown to the drowning man, Damien turned his hand over to intertwine his fingers with the other’s. Another wave of shakes causes crimson tears to fall.

[fcrgivemefather]

@indeath​ said:  can i see your hypogastric artery

stutters in gay panic.

[fcrgivemefather]

Damien: exists Nearby:

[fcrgivemefather]

//Sometimes I think about how m//idnight m//ass took my oc and my idea of “what if he didnt feel perpetual shame or horror in being a vampire and instead only saw the benefits/how he could save others with it?” and wrote me a whole fuckin au plot its honestly delicious

[fcrgivemefather]

indeath​:

a mericiful melody. and soon behind it, a merciful silence. strings shivering into nothing when damien pulls away. nour hums, leans his head to the side and daydreams about something hopeful. or something deeply wounded. he adores the pin drop of these quiets as much as adores his music. so maybe there’s a tarantella they would learn together. but for now — ‘ one that would tell me about yourself. i want to understand you through this. ’

His initial thought was to recall a piece that spoke to him, but he dismissed it. No. He knew that wouldn't be what Nour wanted. Nour wanted to understand him, and to do so no memory could ever truly explain who he was. Instead, he closed his eyes, and let his heart choose the keys. Though silenced all those years ago it still had much to say, desperate for someone, anyone, to hear it once more.

Hear me, Nour. Understand.

It spoke softly, through gentle tears and a smile, telling tales of pain. Suffering. Longing. And hope; an endless, futile hope. Holding on just a moment longer than he can last. And then another. And another. Some part of him knows he should let go, end all this pointless pain and suffering, sometimes even wishing he did. It hurts... Oh dear god it hurts. And yet, he doesn't. He has to hold on. Just that second longer, so that no one else has to. And as long as no one else has to, that's okay. That's okay. You're going to be okay.

[fcrgivemefather]

Your Freudian Personality Style is:

Anal-retentive

Seeking order and tidiness around you, you are set in your ways and most likely feel that everything you do should be impeccable and above criticism. You are meticulous at your job, a hard worker, and more competent at what you do than most. But your accomplishments come at a price: Inwardly you are beset by incessant worrying and prone to punish yourself in your thoughts when you make a mistake. To avoid the dread of being in error, you establish firm rules and fixed procedures that it takes considerable effort and persuasion to get you to deviate from.

Metaphorically, your personality style may be described as the toddler who over-internalized the demands of potty training, striving to keep the fecal matter in, even after it was safe to 'let go.' As a result, the adult you is penny-pinching and has a hard time parting with worn-out objects, even after they should have been discarded. In social situations you likewise have trouble 'letting loose' and come across as disciplined, constricted, and a bit reserved.

[fcrgivemefather]

indeath​:

so he’s an artist ! nour leans back and watches the shadow of damien’s figure pour of the keys. aren’t you beautiful ? so dearly haunted, tortured and twisted, art made from wounds is always sweeter. notes twinkle quieter, taper into echoes. silence is such a rarity in that deranged blood of his, demented into prophecies and shivering moons. he lingers closer, the tip-tip-tip of his heel and he places a hand on damien’s shoulder. go on, despite the audience. 

Go on he does, playing in time to the beat that neither have no more. The melody swells, melancholic yet hopeful, as if reaching out in an attempt to fill the gaps of what was, if even for just a moment. A moment of peace. A moment of contentment. It flows, filling the room, till there is nothing left but the music.

And then just like that, the notes draw to a close, and the room is empty and cold once more. He dwells for a moment before plucking aimlessly at the keys to break the chilly silence.

"Any requests?"

[fcrgivemefather]

@indeath

Fingers flutter gracefully along the keys, music flowing from each precise touch. The trees outside fall silent as they try to listen in on the somber man who plays for them so often. But tonight was different. The notes carried a single word, filling the room with its message of a name, so sweet and reassuring.

[fcrgivemefather]

//Sometimes I think about making him his own canon separate from VTM but ehhh that’s Work TM

[feralove-deactivated20230128]

fcrgivemefather​.

“As it is written in Corinthians, whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. This cake is for all.”

haha and then what ? 

[fcrgivemefather]

@indeath said: is all that cake for christ?

“As it is written in Corinthians, whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. This cake is for all.”

[fcrgivemefather]

mun vs muse.

[fcrgivemefather]

why do you hurt?

You swallow pain & fold around it. you have always hurt. you hold it carefully, and twisted in such a way that other people don't have to see it. you don't choke on it. you don't drown. you just have it, the way some people have freckles, this is a thing that lives in your bones. you fold instead of fighting because you know how to make yourself small, tuck away the places where they have clawed at, swallow the bruises so you seem clean. nobody needs to see it. you will live through this on your own. you know what you need, and relief isn't it. this doesn't mean you cannot reach out - it means it is not in your nature to do so. you should. hiding does not mean you won't be seen.

Tagged by: @bellecosebabe​

[fcrgivemefather]

indeath​:

     how lovely ! doe-hearted, honey-sweet and what’s wrong with you ? are there any teeth in his mouth ? nour thinks he ought to stick his fingers in and feel around for a pair of fangs. and sure, they’ve got their fair share of frights. they have a primal nature, as much as they deny it with their factions and societies. and the primal thing, the suitably-named beast of theirs, it’s made of jaws and claws and shivering fear. but he’s seen mortals make greater shows of strength. he’s moved. really. 

     ‘ do you really think so ? i’ve never thought about it, ’ oh, he has. nour made his mind up century ago. ‘ moving, living, progressing. when you’re cut do you heal or do you just go back to the way things were ? do you age, do you grow and wither ? don’t we fight the same battles we always did ? but you’re right, i’m unknowing. ’

     he laughs, bright and birdsong, carried between empty pews, ‘ you make for a better philosopher than i, father. it’s hard to disagree. maybe i was too naive. ’ he wishes it were so. he remembers when it was so. when he didn’t know about all the things that watched him hungry. when he was just a little thing, full of fret and worry and promise. what second chance, what next chapter is there to speak of ? he’s bored of himself now. he wants to be someone else. a chapter in a story not his. an ending he wasn’t meant to write. isn’t that so much more curious ? father, you read like soft rococo flowers. 

    ‘ so you’re writing it, changing the next chapter. but … ’ a pause. he twists his lips and pours over his screen. ‘ if the story so far lead me here, it was god’s will. should i change it, isn’t it what he wanted ? what was a second chance for you, could be a punishment for someone else. his will could be that we’re cast out, abandoned. left with our fear. reminded of our fear. our fear of god, i thought that’s how it goes. ’ ah, there it is. ‘ that’s too dark, i got carried away. i’ve just heard much from other kindred, you know how they are. ’

He shakes his head, fully understanding the mindset, but knowing (and trying) better. “Of course you can change it. Was not one of His first gifts to us choice? Far too often we pick the harsher path because we believe it is what we deserve, but sometimes the only thing holding us back from better is ourselves.” Yes, he did this himself. And he did try his best whenever he could to pick a nicer path. But it was in the disposition of lingering humanity to do so. It didn’t matter how much the beast within kicked and fought, as long as there was still guilt, still comprehension that it is wrong, then he was still in some way or another, human. 

And you could be too, if only you could see it.

“Punishment is not the be all end all of anything; it is a lesson. So maybe this is a punishment. You learn from it, you adapt, and you move on. If you continue to dwell on it, nothing with ever change. I know this from personal experience.”