#I mean there was one named Marius

[serenwanders]

Halfwayish through writing my second silly cat fic and realizing how much I like writing Louis. Like Armand and Daniel are my ride or die but Louis is just so lovely. He’s just so steadfast and so often the adult in the room.

[adamnablelittledevil]

He knows 10 vampires intimately?

WHY DOES HE MEAN??????? YOU D O N O T KNOW THAT MANY VAMPIRES INTIMATELY LMAO

[chalkscene]

tears of themis ⇢ YOU DECIDE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT

ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter

you’re shifting restlessly on the couch when you catch your LUKE alarm keychain—handmade by luke himself—peeking from behind the armrest, “luke says he’s sorry.” you can’t help but smile at the sound of luke faking a small voice and whatever rage that filled you from your argument hours ago has now dissipated, endeared by the sweet gesture. “you’re gonna set off that alarm by accident,” you quip, the lightness in your tone encouraging luke to come into view. “you’re not mad anymore?” he asks, cautious yet hopeful. all his years of training and building a hard exterior to be a detective have nothing on you because in the warmth behind his hazel eyes that only you can bring out, you still find the boy you grew up with. the boy you’ve always loved. “i can’t stay mad at you,” you admit, on the brink of tears, “luke, i’m really sorry…” luke is quick to bring you in his arms, declining your apology because that’s what he does—he’ll blame everything before he’ll blame you. you’re unable to hold back a sob, prompting him to hold you tighter before he whispers in your ear, “let’s not do this again, okay?”

ARTEM is going over a recent case when he realizes it’s almost midnight. he’s usually one to pull an all-nighter but gnawing at the back of his mind is the argument he had with you today—you two haven’t spoken to each other since. after having decided to put off his work until tomorrow, he walks out of his home office to join you in bed but he finds you in the living room instead, your pillows and blanket already set up on the sofa. he can tell you’re aware of his presence from the way you’re deliberately not looking in his direction. still, he attempts to catch your attention with a soft call of your name. when you don’t reply, he carefully crosses the distance between the two of you. “we can’t fix this if you won’t talk to me,” he pleads. artem’s convinced his words have fallen on deaf ears until you finally speak, “i just don’t want to say the wrong thing again.” artem understands, thinking back to what started as a simple disagreement escalating into something it shouldn’t have and before you could stop it, you were both raising your voices at each other, saying things you didn’t mean. “i’m sorry about everything i said,” your voice sounds weak as it quivers and artem immediately wraps you in his embrace. “me too,” he tells you, “we can talk tomorrow. just come to bed.” when you nod into his chest, he presses a reassuring kiss at top of your head as he promises, “we’re alright.”

as MARIUS waits for you in bed, anxiety slowly eats away at him, the argument he had with you hours ago replaying in his mind. you should’ve walked in by now, he thinks, so he waits a few more minutes before getting on his feet and makes his way downstairs. he’s rehearsing his apology, muttering to himself to test the words on his tongue but it all flies out the window when he finds you asleep on the sofa. ridden with guilt, he decides to save his sorry’s for tomorrow when you’re both lucid for a proper conversation. marius is careful not to wake you up—gently slipping an arm beneath your head and looping the other under your knees to carry you to the bedroom. he’s tucking you in bed when you begin to stir awake. “sorry,” you hear him whisper, “didn’t mean to wake you up.” “what time is it?” you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “it’s late. go back to sleep.” he places a tender kiss on your forehead to lull you to your slumber before he shifts you on your side, his chest against your back as he slides an arm across your torso. “sweet dreams,” he mutters and you feel his breath on the nape of your neck. “marius?” “hm?” “i’m sorry about earlier…” “that’s my line, miss,” he quips, albeit sincerely. he gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls you flush against him. “i’m sorry, too,” he replies, “i never want you to go to sleep upset.”

you’re getting settled on the couch when you hear VYN clear his throat as he carefully places a fresh cup of tea on the table in front of you. “chamomile tea,” he states, “it will help you sleep better.” there’s the slightest caution in his voice but it’s enough to tell you what the tea is for—peace offering after your heated disagreement earlier. “thank you,” you mumble, gradually feeling the guilt bubbling in your chest, “you’re using reverse psychology on me, aren’t you?” there’s no bite in your tone but vyn’s eyes still widen at the accusation. “n-no,” he stutters and a giggle involuntarily escapes you, to vyn’s surprise. “i’m joking.” when you notice his body language go lax, you slowly reach for his hand. “and i’m sorry for the things i said to you,” you tell him, “i didn’t mean it.” “i know.” a soft smile curls on his lips as he interlocks your fingers together, “so am i.” you stay quiet for a moment, basking in his touch that you missed terribly before he speaks again. “if you still wish to be alone tonight, i don’t mind staying here.” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, aware of the fact that this is just him assessing your boundaries—vyn does mind and you know that—so you shoot him a dubious look instead to which he responds with a sheepish smile. “i suppose you’ve changed your mind?” you actually give him an eye roll this time. “you know you had me at chamomile.”

[theoxenfree]

OF FLESH SIN

vampire priest x reader | 2.6k | 18+

you're the child of a monastery groundskeeper and come to find out that one of the senior clergy, father marius, was brutally maimed in his chambers overnight. you're approached by the monastery's new recruit: father shaw; who claims he had witnessed the scene of the crime and invites you to his chambers to tell the tale.

warnings; dark content bc of descriptions of gore and violence towards the end, obsessive behaviors, theological themes, probs inaccurate representation of monastery life lmao, outdated + deragatory mention of psychiatric care to fit the narrative, very brief mention of animal death, classism (mc getting shit on for being poor and coming from an "uneducated" family), kinda honestly cheesy if you think about it, roughly proofread, vampires are monsters y'all—that's the only way I write them

shouldn't have to say it, but: none of this is indicative of my personal viewpoints. it's just fiction, folks.

second prompt fulfilled for my lil' october writing project! this won the second poll! please reblog + leave feedback to be kind and help a sister out 🥹💕

Father Marius died in quite some awful way last night, as reported to you by the nuns hanging fresh washed garments on the clothesline in the waning, purpling daylight.

“A look of horror! Utter terror! So frightened that his jaw had become dislocated in forever a scream,” shivered one young nun, Lucy; recently a convert from the slums. “I, well, I didn't see it myself. Neither did the rest of us, actually. They say it was that new Father Shaw who found him at dawn.”

You had been raking gravel out of the yard, tiny stones kicked off of the path into the kempt lawn by prancing horses and wagon wheels, when Lucy and the other nun, Esme, had caught your attention with their hard, dense gossip. They regarded your approach with less caution than they would have had with their other sisters, as gossip was deemed inappropriate, a violation, a flickering serpent’s tongue carrying covert temptations leading to luscious sins and debauchery.

They saw you—poor, morose, the groundskeeper's only child and reminder of loveless trysts—and thought nothing of snaking you into their prattle. You were not the sort to divulge anyone's secrets without gain, without reward, and you knew that the nuns kept nothing to their names once they took their vows and donned their habits.

“Father Shaw,” you continued the discussion with some intrigue, mostly from the fact that he was very new, very young, and modestly handsome, “why was he awake so early? Why was he in Father Marius’ chambers? Curious to me.”

Neither of them gave much caution to your questions, shrugging as if to dismiss your ambivalence and accusatory tone. You were bold in the way that the faithless and lost always tended to be: asking senseless things, always concerned with the wrongdoings of others, always suspicious, always inquiring—forever inquiring.

“Oh, my, you're so defensive,” Esme fanned a yellow bedspread out with an oncoming breeze, catching the wind beneath the fabric so it billowed and rippled midair. “If that’s how you're going to be, then: why does your father stumble around the yard at night with a lantern, swinging around a pistol like a madman? Won't he hurt someone?”

Because he's a godless, superstitious drunk. Perhaps, even, a bit disturbed in his mind, but you couldn't bear to think that way, that he might be the type to need his head locked in a metal cage, gagged, arms bound, and padlocked in some damp, distant corner of an asylum.

“He's a good man,” you relented, taking your hands from the top of the smoothed out, worn handle of the rake and resumed your task. The gravel made an awful, grinding sound as the teeth of the rake collected pieces of stone and led it back to the rest. “He's served this monastery well. I don't mean offense about Father Shaw, I'm simply curious about what transpired is all.”

“No offense taken,” came a voice from behind, startling both the twittering nuns and yourself at the same time. They saw it to be Father Shaw standing there, hands cuffed behind his back with a particularly demure disposition, hiked their skirts and whisked themselves away back inside. “Ah, am I really such a frightful figure? I couldn't really find an opening during your conversation to invite myself in. I apologize.”

You were of a similar fretful nature, quickening your clawing and the reach of the rake. “Nay, Father. I think it's simply because you're a strange man to them still. A handsome face, a warm voice, mysterious; give them time, they'll come around.”

“Have you?” Father Shaw asked, taking measured strides in a half-circle around to your front. He concentrated on where the teeth of your instrument struck next, tips temporarily wedged into the soft dirt before being ripped up with chunks of earth and gray gravel. “It wouldn't do for me if you… were still ill at ease with me as well. I consider you my one, true friend in this place.”

Your father held a certain destestation towards Father Shaw that you'd never witnessed before, saying nothing else than that something was terribly wrong with him and not to place yourself in a position to be alone with him. This you attributed to his unsoundness, but it was always the sudden flicker a sharp breath against candlelight—a jarring shift in his demeanor when he spoke about the Father, neurotic and prone to throwing things about the cottage interior, that caused you to pay some mind to what he told you.

“And, you're a great friend of mine as well,” you hoped you sounded coherent and paced your words evenly enough. “I'm sorry if you thought I was accusing you of something, sir. I really meant nothing to it.”

Father Shaw’s lips sprawled tight and pale into a fond smile, never showing his teeth, though the imprint of them seemed massive and the skin of his lips startlingly thin across them. “I know. You have nothing to fear. My feelings were not affected. If you'd like, come to my chambers later, we may pray together first, and I'll tell you everything you wish to know about what I saw to sate your curiosity.”

“That seems improper, sir.” You said.

“How so?”

“Inviting someone to your chambers at night seems an unbecoming venture for a pious man of status, such as yourself,” you continued, now standing upright beside your rake, “if any of the sisters were to witness it, worse another priest, aren't you afraid you'd be horribly chastised? Even worse, excommunicated altogether?”

Although Father Shaw’s dark eyes reflected no light, holding such demanding depth to them that it was hard to keep your bearings whenever you realized you'd been staring, his entire face was alight in amusement.

“Wherever did you learn to speak like that?” he asked candidly, still glowing despite his pallor. “Forgive me when I say, but your father is not an educated man. I mean no offense, please don't look at me in such a way. You are so well spoken, I only wish to know more about you.”

“I've lived here my entire life,” you told him. “The nuns taught me how to read.”

He looked impressed. “You can read?”

“I can!” From a near distance, you could make out your father’s haddard form, bent sideways on a walking cane and limping towards the pair of you. You looked up at the priest’s smooth face. “It'd be best for you to leave before my father can speak to you. He isn't the kindest soul after a long day.

Father Shaw didn't react with any semblance of worry, but agreed that there were other things needing to be done and began away. Just as he passed you on his way towards the monastery, he let his hand rest atop of your shoulder and leaned you towards him to whisper in your ear: “come to me tonight. I'll be waiting for you.”

There was something so luxurious and cooling about his voice; fine silks sitting in the shade during autumn gliding across your bare skin, wrapping your neck, your chest, your nether parts. His voice was a fine, chilly mist after the first rains in spring which felt refreshing and new after a glacial winter, yet still had capacity to soak you to the bone. It was a nighttime breeze caressing your cheek, sweeping through the hairs of your scalp, making your skin burst all over with bumps.

“I don't like the way he looks at you,” said your father with a mouthful of porridge you'd seasoned with herbs of the season. It was wonderfully fragrant and warm during nights that were still a bit too uncomfortable to sip anything cold. “He looks at you like you're a slab of meat! Some prize after a hunt. I don't like him, love. Not one bit. You'd do well to stay to mind yourself and do your chores and nothing else, y’hear?”

After dinner, you cleaned up, swept the floors with hard bristles, and snuffed all the lights except for the fireplace where your father sat in his old chair, fiddling with his favorite pistol.

“It's time for bed, old man.” You watched him fit a couple of small bullets into the loading chamber. They glinted against the orange flames. “Goodness. What have you gotten this time? Something new?”

“Aye!” he grinned, nearly toothless and in a sickly sort of way. “Went to market the other day while the nuns bullied you and picked out some fine bullets from the silversmith,” he cracked the two halves of the pistol shut. “Better to be prepared.”

You waited until sometime later once he was finally asleep, possibly after midnight, before leaving the humble cottage sitting on the fringes of the massive monastery yard and rushing across the grounds to get inside.

Once, they'd kept a guard dog on the property, one of those meaner breeds that were used for gambling, but the poor thing wound up shot dead in the middle of the night by a traveling friar who'd come to seek refuge at the monastery. The sisters, and yourself, were horribly distraught by the entire ordeal and all vetoed the consideration of bringing another dog here.

Since then, it was no task for you (or anyone else) to get inside the building and shuffle along the shadows through the corridors. At night, the place stirred with patient insects, feral rodents large and small in the pantry, and hungry owls tamely whining from the rafters when something startled them away from their hunt of vermin.

Your feet were a light sound on the masonry below, padded by thin leather soles which alerted you to your enthusiasm as the thwap thwap thwap became louder, aggressive as you closed in on a wall and turned down another hallway for a sturdy wood door at the end of it.

As your knuckles rapped, hoping the sound wouldn't disturb the animals’ nighttime caroling, a swift darkness moved across the floor from behind the door, briefly blocking out the soft light seeping out from underneath.

The next moment, you were being pulled inside and sat at a small table tucked to the side of Father Shaw’s rather generous room. It was a simple space, sparsely furnished for the barest of comforts—only for what was needed to live—but what had been made for him was of exquisite craftsmanship, some made of teakwood, which Shaw assured you was remarkably durable and highly resistant to rotting.

“It's wonderful for boats,” he said, pouring a light amber colored brew from a metal kettle he'd heated a short while ago. “It’s good for all elements, really. Exceptional longevity. I've heard it has become a popular option in the city for burying the deceased.”

“Will Father Marius be buried in a teakwood coffin, then?” you asked, sipping politely from the cup even though you had no appetite for it. You already felt ill at ease enough having disobeyed your father by sneaking into a priest's personal chambers at night. The things the sisters would say about you—

“He will be entombed underneath the monastery with the rest who have served here and passed. I believe that is all stone down there, my dear.” Father Shaw smiled tepidly, kettle aside, no tea of his own. “But, I know that your curiosity led you here to me with questions, yes? About the state I found Father Marius in, yes?”

You tried to disguise your intrigue by drinking more of the tea, of whatever it was he had given you, and listened to the sounds of your fingertips sticking to the porcelain from sweat and steam.

“If you wouldn't mind sharing…”

“I wouldn't!” he leaned on his arms on the table, closer towards you as though with a secret. “As I've said, you are truly the only soul here who I can confide in. You are not a sheep. And you do not fear sin as the rest do. So, you can ask me anything and I'll tell you everything.”

“Tell me about Father Marius, then.”

Father Shaw reached across the table for one of your hands; his far larger, fingers much longer and colder than your own and held it as he recounted the event.

“Dreadful sight, it was. It was, oh, perhaps sometime after three o'clock when I heard a massive racket. A struggle. When I knocked, all of the noise subsided at once and there was complete stillness. Silence, my dear, silence so deep, dark, and damning that I knew something awful had happened.

“I didn't knock again, I was too afraid to! But, Father Marius was getting on in age, so I couldn't just stand by, either. I kicked the door in—just once was all it took—and I rushed inside to see the room was a complete mess. A fight had clearly taken place, and the walls—oh, the walls—”

His remorse was carefully placed, stiff, and uncertain and he couldn't be seen in the vastness of his black gaze. You were moved by the vulnerability he was trying to show you, going as far to abandon your drink to place your warm hand on top of his.

“The walls, my dear, were a mess of blood. Something vicious and awful had happened in that room. But, then, I found Father Marius lying there on the ground next to a broken window. I think he'd tried to throw himself through it. His face was shredded to pieces, his eyes gouged. When I got closer, I noticed that his tongue had been severed from his head!”

You were holding Father Shaw’s hands in a bloodless grip, face ashen, teeth chattering behind your lips. “What on earth! That is not only horror, but cruelty!”

“Oh, my love, it gets worse!” Father Shaw held you mesmerized in his gaze, the conviction and anguish with which he told his story. “Closer still, Father Marius’ face was locked in one of pure terror, I've—I’ve never seen a human react in quite a way such as that before, to fear. The man unhinged his own jaw in a hideous scream, and it seemed to me he was skeletal. By that, it's like he was, well, quite dry.

“So, I crouched down so much lower and inspected him all over. Do you want to know what I found?”

“Yes.” You spoke breathlessly.

Father Shaw had moved out of his seat and was on one knee in front of you, both of his frigid hands on your face to smooth across your cheeks, pushing away pieces of hair obscuring some part of you he'd wanted to see.

“My love, I saw marks in his neck. Two, beautifully, wonderfully symmetrical marks that were far too clean to be of any animal that we know of. The bite was clean, it was patient and cunning. And the fangs that had sunk into his tender flesh had drained him of blood, of the very essence that kept his heart beating until the very last.”

“Sir—” your stomach plummeted, falling forever, when he smiled, teeth longer than any humans should be shown through to you. He wouldn't let you go when you went to move out of his hands, away from him. “Father Shaw, please—”

“I wish you could have seen it, my love. It was a breathtaking sight and I long for someone else to admire the beauty of my work alongside me.”

It was unthinkable that a vampire could walk on these holy grounds and in the bright of day, yet Father Shaw had for countless days. Evil held you sweetly by the cheek and in your hair, kissed you with a corpse’s cold lips, and laved the skin of your skin with a long, serpentine tongue.

“O’, my merciful lord…”

Father Shaw bent your head back with a fistful of hair and spoke from your throat:

“There is no God, only me. Come into the endless night with me, my love.”

[thebisexualwreckoning]

Armand's backstory and how I, your local bengali vampire fucker and armand's 24/7 defence lawyer, am going to make him bengali and muslim while still keeping it showcannon accurate

(Note: this is not meant to be taken seriously and is very much just written because I was bored and had time on my hands and if i have gotten anything wrong please correct me)

One thing that always annoyed me about IWTV showcannon is the fact that armand pre-marius days were either left majorly unexplored or made absolutely no sense to the time period. Which, I find pretty surprising considering the care and sensitivity Louis' new backstory was handled with by the same creators and show writers.

We know 3 things about Armand and who he is as a character in regards to his ethnicity:

His birth is Arun

He is Muslim

And that he was taken from Delhi somewhere around the early 15th century

For the purposes of this essay, we are going to assume all of this is true and not something Armand made up to get sympathy from both Louis and the audience.

Armand's birth name being Arun, while incredibly lazy, does make his identity as a bengali man much easier to confirm. My own full blooded formerly bangladeshi grandfather has the name Arun and Arun continues to be an incredibly popular bengali name for boys to this day. The problem arises when it comes to his religion.

The thing about the name Arun is that it's an incredibly *Hindu* first name, given that it is quite literally one of the names for the Hindu god of the sun (Source: I'm Hindu and confirmed with my mom who is sitting beside me scrolling on facebook). While muslim people can have the name Arun, given that Bengal was still an independent kingdom around the time which Armand would have been born in, his parents being hindu would have been likely.

However, around a similar time, the Mughals were setting up shop in, you guessed it, delhi and the surrounding region. Now, my proposal is as such: During the same time period, many parents sold their children to zamindars (land owners) for money or food or land. Young Arun's parents did the same thing. Now, this zamindar either sells armand to someone else immediately after who takes him delhi or takes young arun to delhi himself where he either sets up shop with him or once again sells arun to someone else.

Seperated from his parents and newly immigrated indenture (because yes, mughal era punjab and bengal were different kingdoms and as such this would count as immigration) to a kingdom which had just gone through a major political upheaval and had a new ruler forcibly converting people to islam, arun, who has no ties to hinduism given that a. he is a child and b. his hindu parents very much just sold him into slavery, converts to islam as well as a safety tactic.

Thus child arun grows into teen arun and he has never known anything of his life before delhi but those first few years that he spent in bengal and has definitely had no contact with hinduism and has been a devout muslim for the vast majority of his life. Here is where things get a bit iffy. There are two ways how the rest of this can now go.

Route no. 1, armand's indenture is sold to the portuguese, the portuguese take him to europe, marius buys him, everything proceeds as it must.

Route no. 2, the overly complicated, book and show canon accurate version which requires some significant suspension of disbelief and handwaving to accomplish but i like it so i'm still writing down this crack theory. Also we're doing this in dot points now because i'm getting tired:

We know armand speaks crimean because daniel mentions it after he catches fake rashid praying

crimea was part of the ottoman empire during this time period.

the ottoman empire had relatively friendly relations with the mughals because they were afraid of babur.

crimean ottoman merchants buy armand's indenture

armand ends up in crimea

crimea and kievan rus, book armand's original homeland's complex relation means armand ends up in kievan rus.

Things proceed as they did in the books for how armand goes from kievan rus to under marius's hold

and that's all i have, this has been your local crack theorist on tonight's armand show. see you next time.

[lady-phasma]

I'm sure someone has probably already done this but it's nagging at me and I couldn't hear all the insults as they yelled at one another. (Bold are my emphasis because I am seated!) Specifically the parts about Paris and Marius. I'm not making any comments at the moment, just fact finding because this episode was brutal. Beautiful, but brutal.

Season 2 Episode 5

Louis: What? What?!

Armand: It's morning!

Louis: I lost time. Things got a little heated.

Armand: With a boy! Things got heated with a boy. I was at home picking lint off the sofa!

Louis: I said to join us!

Armand: The night's gone. The room's soiled and once again, I'm here with mop and mindlessness to clean it up.

Louis: So the room got dirty, so what? I'll clean it up.

Armand: No, I clean it up! You make the mess and I clean it up! Mark it on the calendar, align it with Ursa Major. Louis' tri-annual fսck off and find me with apologies to follow.

Louis: ( laughing ) I'm sorry.

Armand: Seek comfort in the arms of lowlifes and unfortunates, and broken children, fine.

Louis: Oh, fine! The fine that doesn't sound like…

But revealing our nature to a reporter you met in a bar ten hours ago? What if it was published?

Louis: I was having some fun!

Armand: You don't have enough to fear from Paris?

Louis: I was in the middle of ending things, when you…

Armand: You'd have been passed out on the floor next to him, Louis! Out on your feet from the drսg you stuffed him with!

Louis: Oh, this is boring! You're boring! You are so boring!

Armand: And here come the drսgs.

Louis: Colorless.

Armand: Up the fangs, down this road.

Louis: Flavorless. Dull! Dull! Dull!

Armand: Into the heart and off with the fingers, feet.

Louis: Dull nights, dull weeks!

Louis: And wallowing brain.

Louis: Dull months, dull as fսck! Suffocation by the world's softest, beige-est pillow! The ten hours I spent with that boy were more exciting, more fascinating, than decades with you! Oh, there it is! The half-blank, half-apocalyptic look! But what does it mean tonight, huh? Does he want to lick my boots or chop my hands off? Is it the gremlin or the good nurse tonight? Huh?

Armand: Okay. Okay, perhaps. But am I as boring as the blather committed onto the ferric tapes of your fascinating boy? "Oh, it's so, so hard to be me."

Louis: "Picking lint off the sofa?!"

Armand: "It's so hard to kill humans."

Armand: "I can feel their feelings as I drain them."

Louis: You sat on your hands and put your ear to the wind.

Armand: "Everyone I know wrongs me."

Louis: Okay. Okay, let's wake the boy up and let's try you. "I'm the vampire Armand and my daddy vampire groomed me into a little bitch."

Armand: "My brother, he tossed himself off a roof!"

Louis: "Vampires who murdered my daddy made me pretend I didn't have a dіck for 240 years."

Armand: "My sister, she buried me alive.” My daughter was my sister was my throw pillow. “Well, he wouldn't look at me kindly.” "Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat."

Louis: I talked shit about him the whole time. So what?!

Armand: The name!! The name! Unuttered in our home for 23 years, said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer.

Louis: Our problems aren't about him.

Armand: And you threw her name around just for cover, but it always circled back to him.

Louis: I loved her.

Armand: But she didn't love you. Not like he did, not like I have.

Louis: ( softly ) I know. I know! Yes! I know. ( softly ) Thank you for saying it. It's all creeping back. Paris and the, uh, what, what, what? But there's… all of it coming back. There's, uh, Paris. Paris. Can you hear that? Can you hear that, hm? Can you hear her? She's calling me.

Transcript (with some corrections) from TV Show Transcripts

[gallierhouse]

I keep thinking about the painting of Armand, Adoration of the Shepherds with a Donor, and how he says it was painted when he was younger, when he was “meatier in the forearms,” before his illness, seven years before he was turned. Painted when he was still desirable to Marius and his contemporaries, I suppose, when he was valuable enough to be used as currency. Armand was sold as a child, bought by Marius when he was 15, painted and donated when he was 20, and turned at 27. While looking at the painting he suggests that he looks a lot different now than he did then. He sounds bitter, honestly. Maybe he got too old to hold Marius’ attention or the sickness wasted him away. It gives him this really interesting relationship with age and his body. He spent most of his human life being fetishized and trafficked and enslaved for it, in the end it’s really his beauty (or youth, or conflation of the two) that gave him value to Marius. His self-worth is really deeply connected to his desirability, or, well, fuckability, but it’s also the very thing that marks him as merchandise, and an object to be sold and owned and traded and donated and used. Now he’s older. He’s 5 centuries old and he doesn’t look like a child anymore. Turned after his prime, to Marius, at least. Must be bittersweet, really. He stopped aging, but it didn’t really mean anything. He’s never going to be young again. The thing about people like Marius is that it’s never really only about looks. Sure, that’s a big part of it, and it’s sick and it’s twisted, but there’s also the fact that children have no material power whatsoever. They’re always expected to defer to adults, no one believes them, no one listens to them, and they don’t have the knowledge or resources to know when something terrible is happening to them. They’re barely people. If no one tells you something is bad there’s really no way for you to know it is, especially if you’ve been raised in an insular environment ruled by a man who “saved” you from abuse so horrific it made you forget your own name and all your memories. It’s much easier to manipulate a child than it is to manipulate an adult because an adult’s spent more time learning about this world. Armand’s 500 years old. He’s outlived empires. If there was anyone left in this world older than him it’d be a number in the single digits. There’s no going back, there’s no staying the same, there’s very little of what made him valuable to Marius left in the first place. I wonder how that feels. To know you’ve been bought and sold and trafficked and abuse for this thing you don’t even have anymore, and it was the only thing that gave you value to the person you loved most in the world. Must feel like shit. I wonder how the person in the mirror looks to him.

[chaotic-multi-fandom]

WHERE DOES IT START? ARUN, AMADEO, ARMAND

- My personal reflections on Armand's names in Interview with the Vampire (show version)

“Who am I Louis?” Armand asks while staring at a painting of a boy that only he would ever be able to recognize as himself. He stares at what is supposed to be his essence captured forever on a canvas, and yet the kneeling boy is a stranger to him. When he asks Louis this, he is earnest. Armand does not know who he is, and this lack of identity crushes and torments him. Armand seems to constantly define himself by his attachment to other people or things, such as a “servant”, as “the job (he) did not want” or as someone’s “companion” because he has never known anything else, he is never just “Armand;” he does not know who that is.

This is further reflected in his names, and the fact that despite having several none belong to him. First there’s Arun. This is supposedly the name he was born with, but even he is not sure of this due to his memory being clouded as a consequence all the horrors he suffered as a child. This name is not his, it is a name so linked to the abuse he endured that it has become the name of said abuse rather than the name of a person. His use of third person when talking about himself as “Arun” signals both a coping mechanism to distance himself from those experiences as well as the disconnect he feels from the identity attached to the name.

Then, there’s Amadeo. A name given to him by Marius, not only linking him directly with his maker and master but with God and worship, the name meaning “lover of god”. This name is also not his, but rather a projection of what Marius saw or expected in Armand. This is what we see in the painting, an ideal: a submissive, worshipful, whitewashed Armand degraded to kneel at the same level as the dog behind him, “basking in (his) worshipful mercy.” Regardless of how Armand did embody this role of worship and servitude during his time with Marius, that painting is not him, it is the fantasized construct that is Amadeo, who doesn’t really exist. When you think about it, Amadeo being a projection of those around him is not entirely different to “dreamstat” being a projection of Louis. This is of course largely my own interpretation and not fact, but I think anyone can agree that who is being portrayed in that painting is Armand only in name. It is simply another example of his body being used for a purpose, an artistic one in this case, his true essence and even features entirely forgotten and replaced by Amadeo’s. So, that name and the identity attached to it wasn’t entirely Armand’s either. Much like “Arun” being tied to his parents abandon and the brothel, Amadeo is trapped in the painting: just another property to be “sold” or “donated;” what Armand has always been treated as.

Finally, there is the name we call him by now: Armand. A name given to him by the Roman coven before sending him to the Paris coven, a collective that he is now supposed to lead and put before himself as an individual. It is a French name, a place he had no connection to before-hand and that only further distances him from who he might have once been, forcing him to adapt and assimilate into the new role he has been chained to. The name is a role in itself, as it means “soldier.” Furthermore, he is not a simple leader to this coven, he is the somewhat paternal and religious figure through which the coven; his “children,” serve Satan and through him, God. He is part of a “murky trinity” as Lestat calls it, a twisted parody of the holy trinity. So, “Armand” is once again much more than a name; it is another projection the lost and abandoned coven latches onto. Of course, they mostly refer to him as “maitre,” the implications of which I’ve already discussed in a different post. In this case, the dual titles “Armand” and “Maitre” are parallel to “Amadeo,” they both link Armand to the concepts of owner and God, except the roles change from being the owned worshiper to the worshiped owner. It remains someone else’s image, someone else’s name, one that prevents Armand from exploring who he is without it.

Armand does not have a name; how can he know who he is?

Even now he seeks the answer in Louis where he will not find it. There are, however, moments in which this seemed to be challenged. For example, shortly after meeting, Armand asks Louis to address him as such instead of “maitre” as his coven does. It is a moment in which he takes agency over what he wants to be called, a privilege he has never had before. Later, Louis calls him Arun as a way to indicate that he can see the person that lies behind the roles he plays, and that he can be himself around Louis. Yet these moments are still tainted. The name Armand does not reflect who he is, and in the conversation with Louis, Armand falls into his old patterns by addressing Louis as “maitre.” Plus, Louis too will go on to misuse this, but that’s a whole other topic. These instances, though revealing a more loving and honest side to Louis’ and Armand’s relationship in which they allow themselves to be open, they can not give Armand a sense of self. No one but himself can, and yet he doesn’t know how that is. It is a tragic never-ending paradox as immortal as he.

[chicalepidopterareblogs]

Wrt Armand's last name in the show I think it's fundamental to notice that it is indeed a business name. Meaning, Armand goes perfectly fine about his day without a surname but the moment he felt he needed to pick up one to sign his plays with in mid 20th century France, he chose "Marius". If it was meant to be *just* a way to acknowledge Marius' memory, the writers might just as well have given him "de Romanus". But, if these two pieces of information gathered here are anything to go by...it might be as well a way for the show to point towards Armand's relationship with his origins and culture while also inform us of the way Armand was "managing" Marius' memory at that time, not as an enslaver but as a father figure, as fucked up as it may sound and just in case we had forgotten this was the fucked up gothic tv show.

Or maybe "Marius" sounds better than "de Romanus" in French, I dunno🤷‍♀️

[cbrownjc]

Three quick thoughts about EP 2x06 (spoilers):

Thought #1: So this episode gave me something I really wanted but I actually wasn't 100% sure we'd get this season -- which is Armand admitting that in over 500 years, for his entire vampire life, he's never made another vampire. Ever. I wasn't actually nervous that the show would change things to have Armand turn Madeleine -- since it was already spoiled in trailers that Louis (and Claudia) would do it -- but I could feel that whole situation being a perfect setup for revealing that Armand has never once made another vampire, and they did it. 😁 Just as in the books, Armand is being set up to only have one fledgling. And the show very much leaned into the bond that makes between two vampires, given the dialogue Louis and Madeleine exchanged about that, the feelings of that.

Thought #2: Look, maybe Justin Kirk's character could still be Marius, but if so? Then the writers are leaning super hard in trying to specifically get book readers to look the other way on this. Because of that "switch bodies with you" line they had him saying to Daniel? Come on! I've heard that we won't see his character on screen again this season, but IMO that doesn't mean anything IMO, and for now, my hackles are still up. And the reason I still can't shake the Marius deal wrt him is because --

Thought #3: You know, "eating" and going to the bathroom doesn't mean Rashid is human. And the fact that Justin Kirk's character came right up to Daniel to talk the minute he left? And then didn't have any fear, or even tried to excuse himself quickly after Rashid came back? Again, come on. Because, again, Rashid was the name of a character in Blood and Gold, the book that gave us Marius' backstory. That whole scene also made me think there is a connection between Justin Kirk's character and Rashid, just as much as it gave me Body Thief vibes. But yeah, we very much won't know anything either way until the finale, IMO (hopefully).

[secretmellowblog]

Les Mis French History Timeline: all the context you need to know to understand Les Mis

Here is a simple timeline of French history as it relates to events in Les Miserables, and to the context of Les Mis's publication! A post like this would’ve really helped me four years ago, when I knew very little about 1830s France or the goals of Les Amis, so I’m making it now that I have the information to share! ^_^

This post will be split into 4 sections: a quick overview of important terms, the history before the novel that’s important to the character's backstories, the history during the novel, and then the history relevant to the 1848-onward circumstances of Hugo’s life and the novel’s publication. 

Part 1: Overview 

The novel takes place in the aftermath of the Battle of Waterloo, during a period called the Restoration. 

The ancient monarchy was overthrown during the French Revolution. After a series of political struggles the revolutionary government was eventually replaced by an empire under Napoleon. Then Napoleon was defeated and sent into exile— but then he briefly came back and seized power for one hundred days—! and then he was defeated yet again for good at the battle of Waterloo in 1815.

After all that political turmoil, kings have been "restored" to the throne of France. The novel begins right as this Restoration begins.

The major political parties important to generally understanding Les Mis (Wildly Oversimplified) are Republicans, Liberals, Bonapartists, and Royalists. It’s worth noting that all these ‘party terms’ changed in meaning/goals over time depending on which type of government was in power. In general though, and just for the sake of reading Les Mis:

 Republicans want a Republic, where people elect their leaders democratically— they’re the very left wing progressive ones, and are heavily outcast/censored/policed. Les Amis are Republicans.

Liberals: we don’t have time to go into it, but I don’t think there are any characters in Les Mis defined by their liberalism.

Bonapartists are followers of Napoleon Bonaparte I, who led the Empire. Many viewed the Emperor as more favorable or progressive to them than a king would be. Georges Pontmercy is a Bonapartist, as is Pere Fauchelevent. 

Royalists believe in the divine right of Kings; they’re conservative. Someone who is extremely royalist to the point of wanting basically no limits on the king’s power at all are called “Ultraroyalists” or “ultra.” Marius’s conservative grandfather Gillenromand is an ultra royalist.  Hugo is also very concerned with criticizing the "Great Man of History," the view that history is pushed forward by the actions of a handful of special great men like kings and emperors. Les Mis aims to focus on the common masses of people who push history forward instead.

Part 2: Timeline of History involved in characters’ Backstories

1789– the March on the bastille/ the beginning of the original French Revolution. A young Myriel, who is then a shallow married aristocrat, flees the country. His family is badly hurt by the Revolution. His wife dies in exile.

1793– Louis XVI is found guilty of committing treason and sentenced to death. The Conventionist G—, the old revolutionary who Myriel talks to, votes against the death of the king. 

1795:  the Directory rules France. Throughout much of the revolution, including this period, the country is undergoing “dechristianization” policies. Fantine is born at this time. Because the church is not in power as a result of dechristianization, Fantine is unbaptized and has no record of a legal given name, instead going by the nickname Fantine (“enfantine,” childlike.)

1795: The Revolutionary government becomes more conservative. Jean Valjean is arrested. 

1804: Napoleon officially crowns himself Emperor of France. the Revolution’s dream of a Republic is dead for a bit.  At this time, Myriel returns from his exile and settles down in the provinces of France to work as a humble priest. Then he visits Paris and makes a snarky comment to Napoleon, and Napoleon finds him so witty that he appoints him Bishop.

Part 3: the novel actually begins 

1815: Napoleon is defeated at the Battle of Waterloo by the allied nations of Britain and Prussia. Read Hugo’s take on that in the Waterloo Digression! He gets a lot of facts wrong, but that’s Hugo for you.

Marius’s father, Baron Pontmercy, nearly dies on the battlefield. Thenardier steals his belongings. 

After Napoleon is defeated, a king is restored to the throne— Louis XVIII, of the House of Bourbon, the ancient royal house that ruled France before the Revolution. In order to ensure that Louis XVIII stays on the throne, the nations of Britian, Prussia, and Russia, send soldiers occupy France. So France is, during the early events of the novel, being occupied by foreign soldiers. This is part of why there are so many references to soldiers on the streets and garrisons and barracks throughout the early portions of the novel. The occupation officially ended in 1818.

1815 (a few months after Waterloo): Jean Valjean is released from prison and walks down the road to Digne, the very same road Napoleon charged down during his last attempt to seize power. Many of the inns he passes by are run by people advertising their connections to Napoleon. Symbolically Valjean is the poor man returning from exile into France, just as Napoleon was the Great Man briefly returning from exile during the 100 days, or King Louis XVIII is the Great King returning from exile to a restored throne.

  1817: The Year 1817, which Hugo has a whole chapter-digression about. Louis XVIII  of the House of Bourbon is on the throne. Fantine, “the nameless child of the Directory,”  is abandoned by Tholomyes. 

1821: Napoleon dies in exile. 

1825:  King Louis XVIII dies. Charles X takes the throne. While Louis XVIII was willing to compromise, Charles X is a far more conservative ultra-royalist. He attempts to bring back something like the Pre-Revolution style of monarchy. 

Underground resistance groups, including Republican groups like Les Amis, plot against him.  

1827-1828: Georges Pontmercy, bonapartist veteran of Waterloo, dies. Marius, who has been growing up with his abusive Ultra-royalist grandfather and mindlessly repeating his ultra-royalist politics, learns how much his father loved him. He becomes a democratic Bonapartist. 

Marius is a little bit late to everything though. He shouts “long live the Emperor!” Even though Napoleon died in 1821 and insults his grandfather by telling him “down with that hog Louis XVIII” even though Louis XVIII has been dead since 1825. He’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit. 

Marius leaves his grandfather to live on his own. 

1830: “The July Revolution,” also known as the “Three Glorious Days” or  “the Second French Revolution.” Rebels built barricades and successfully forced Charles X out of power.

Unfortunately, TL;DR moderate politicians prevented the creation of a Republic and instead installed another more politically progressive king — Louis-Philippe, of the house of Orleans. 

Louis-Philippe was a relative of the royal family, had lived  in poverty for a time, and described himself as “the citizen-king.” Hugo’s take on him is that he was a good man, but being a king is inherently evil; monarchy is a bad system even if a “good” dictator is on the throne.

The shadow of 1830 is important to Les Mis, and there’s even a whole digression about it in “A Few Pages of History,” a digression most people adapting the novel have clearly skipped. Les Amis would’ve probably been involved in it....though interestingly, only Gavroche and maybe Enjolras are explicitly confirmed to have been there, Gavroche telling Enjolras he participated “when we had that dispute with Charles X.”

Sadly we're following Marius (not Les Amis) in 1830. Hugo mentions that Marius is always too busy thinking to actually participate in political movements. He notes that Marius was pleased by 1830 because he thinks it is a sign of progress, but that he was too dreamy to be involved in it. 

1831: in “A Few Pages of History” Hugo describes the various ways Republican groups were plotting what what would later become the June Rebellion– the way resistance groups had underground meetings, spread propaganda with pamphlets, smuggled in gunpowder, etc. 

Spring of 1832: there is a massive pandemic of cholera in Paris that exacerbates existing tensions. Marius is described as too distracted by love to notice all the people dying of cholera. 

June 1st, 1832: General Lamarque, a member of parliament often critical of the monarchy, dies of cholera. 

June 5th and 6th, 1832: the June Rebellion of 1832:

Republicans, students, and workers attempt to overthrow the monarchy, and finally get a democratic Republic For Real This Time. The rebellion is violently crushed by the National Guard.

Enjolras was partially inspired by Charles Jeanne, who led the barricades at Saint-Merry. 

Part 4: the context of Les Mis’s publication 

February 1848: a successful revolution finally overthrows King Louis Philippe. A younger Victor Hugo, who was appointed a peer of France by Louis-Philippe, is then elected as a representative of Paris in the provisional revolutionary government.

June 1848: This is a lot, and it’s a thing even Hugo’s biographers often gloss over, because it’s a horrific moral failure/complexity of Hugo’s that is completely at odds with the sort of politics he later became known for. The short summary is that in June 1848 there was a working-class rebellion against new labor laws/forced conscription, and Victor Hugo was on the “wrong side of the barricades” working with the government to violently suppress the rebels. To quote from this source:

Much to the disappointment of his supporters, in [Victor Hugo’s] first speech in the national assembly he went after the ateliers or national workshops, which had been a major demand of the workers. Two days later the workshops were closed, workers under twenty-five were conscripted and the rest sent to the countryside. It was a “political purge” and a declaration of war on the Parisian working class that set into motion the June Days, or the second revolution of 1848—an uprising lauded by Marx as one of the first workers’ revolutions. As the barricades went up in Paris, Hugo was tragically on the wrong side. On June 24 the national assembly declared a state of siege with Hugo’s support. Hugo would then sink to a new political low. He was chosen as one of sixty representatives “to go and inform the insurgents that a state of siege existed and that Cavaignac [the officer who had led the suppression of the June revolt] was in control.” With an express mission “to stop the spilling of blood,” Hugo took up arms against the workers of Paris. Thus, Hugo, voice of the voiceless and hero of workers, helped to violently suppress a rebellion led by people whom he in many ways supported—and many of whom supported him. With twisted logic and an even more twisted conscience, Hugo fought and risked his life to crush the June insurrection.

There is an otherwise baffling chapter in Les Mis titled "The Charybdis of the Faubourg Saint Antoine and the Scylla of the Fauborg Du Temple," where Hugo goes on a digression about June of 1848. Hugo contrasts June of 1848 with other rebellions, and insists that the June 1848 Rebellion was Wrong and Different. It is a strangely anti-rebellion classist chapter that feels discordant with the rest of the book. This is because it is Hugo's effort to (indirectly) address criticisms people had of his own involvement in June 1848, and to justify why he believed crushing that rebellion with so much force was necessary. The chapter is often misused to say that Hugo was "anti-violent-rebellion all the time" (which he wasn't) or that "rebellion is bad” is the message of Les Mis (which it isn't) ........but in reality the chapter is about Hugo attempting to justify his own past actions to the reader and to himself, actions which many people on his side of the political spectrum considered a betrayal. He couldn't really have written a novel about the politics of barricades without addressing his actions in June 1848, and he addressed them by attempting to justify them, and he attempted to justify them with a lot of deeply questionable rhetoric. 1848 is a lot, and I don't fully understand all the context yet-- but that general context is necessary to understand why the chapter is even in the novel. Late 1848/1849: Quoting from the earlier source again:

In the wake of the revolution, Hugo tried to make sense of the events of 1848. He tried to straddle the growing polarization between, on the one hand, “the party of order,” which coalesced around Napoleon’s nephew Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte, who in December 1848 had been elected France’s president under a new constitution, and the “party of movement” (or radical Left) that, in the aftermath of 1848, had made considerable advances. In this climate, as Hugo increasingly spoke out, and faced opposition and repression himself, he was radicalized and turned to the Left for support against the tyranny and “barbarism” he saw in the government of Louis Napoleon. The “point of no return” came in 1849. Hugo became one of the loudest and most prominent voices of opposition to Louis Napoleon. In his final and most famous insult to Napoleon, he asked: “Just because we had Napoleon le Grand [Napoleon the Great], do we have to have Napoleon le petit [Napoleon the small]?” Immune from punishment because of his role in the government, Bonaparte retaliated by shutting down Hugo’s newspaper and arresting both his sons.

Thenardier is possibly meant to be Hugo’s caricature of Louis-Napoleon/Napoleon III. He is “Napoleon the small,” an opportunistic scumbag leeching off the legacy of Waterloo and Napoleon to give himself some respectability. He is a metaphorical ‘graverobber of Waterloo’ who has all of Napoleon’s dictatorial pettiness without any of his redeeming qualities.

It’s also worth noting that Marius is Victor “Marie” Hugo’s self-insert. Hugo’s politics changed wildly over time. Like Marius he was a royalist when was young. And like Marius, he looked up to Napoleon and to Napoleon III, before his views of them were shattered. This is reflected in the way Marius has complicated feelings of loyalty to his father (who’s very connected to the original Napoleon I) and to Thenardier (who’s arguably an analogue for Napoleon IiI.)

1851: 

On December 2, 1851, Louis Napoleon launched his coup, suspending the republic’s constitution he had sworn to uphold. The National Assembly was occupied by troops. Hugo responded by trying to rally people to the barricades to defend Paris against Napoleon’s seizure of power. Protesters were met with brutal repression.  Under increasing threat to his own life, with both of his sons in jail and his death falsely announced, Hugo finally left Paris.  He ultimately ended up on the island of Guernsey where he spent much of the next eighteen years and where he would write the bulk of Les Misérables. It was from here that his most radical and political work was smuggled into France.

Hugo arguably did some of his most important political work after being exiled. In Guernsey, he aided with resistance against the regime of Napoleon III. Hugo’s popularity with the masses also meant that his exile was massive news, and a thing all readers of Les Miserables would’ve been deeply familiar with.

This is why there are so many bits of Les Mis where the narrator nostalgically reflects on how much they wish they were in Paris again —these parts are very political; readers would’ve picked up that this was Victor Hugo reflecting on he cruelty of his own exile.  

1862-1863: Les Mis is published. It is a barely-veiled call to action against the government of Napoleon III, written about the June Rebellion instead of the current regime partially in order to dodge the censorship laws at the time.

Conservatives despise the book and call it the death of civilization and a dangerous rebellious evil godless text that encourages them to feel bad for the stupid evil criminal rebel poors and etc etc etc– (see @psalm22-6 ‘s excellent translations of the ancient conservative reviews)-- but the novel sells very well. Expressing  approval or disapproval of the book is considered inherently political, but fortunately it remains unbanned. 

…And that’s it! An ocean of basic historical context about Les Mis!

If anyone has any corrections  or additions they would like to make, feel free to add them! I have researched to the best of my ability, but I don’t pretend to be perfect. I also recommend listening to the Siecle podcast, which covers the events of the Bourbon Restoration starting at the Battle of Waterloo, if you're interested in learning more about the period!

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Lestat & Gender: "I am she, she is me."

Scrolling the tags and sighing, cuz I just KNEW people were gonna take this line out of context, as proof that Lestat's the woman/wife/mother/femme-fatale (which @dwreader had to explain cuz folks just don't get it X X), blahblahblah. I've already said my whole bit on Lestat as the patriarchal father/husband, and the dandified matador/killer (a la Bruce). But I just wanna remind y'all that THE SAINT IS NOT A CITY.

Either the fandom's got a bunch of new Lestans posting who missed the discourse from S1 about the meaning behind Les's monologues from the books; or y'all just have frightfully short memories.

He's NOT talking about stupid effing New Orleans; and he's NOT calling himself a woman. He's talking about LOUIS. Louis' motherland! Louis' culture! Louis' ancestor's bones! Louis' grave soil! Louis's HOME--Louis' back at home, and Louis IS his home.

But here y'all go, always centering everything on Lestat's yaasification, and ignoring the Louis-shaped elephant in the room.

Lestat's been talking about Louis to his nameless Millennial Fledgling this whole time. Everyone knows who Louis is--and what he means to Lestat. This is CRUCIAL for Loustat going forward in TVC, when Lou's held as collateral against Lest by Akasha and Rhoshamandes.

But for some reason Lestans are hella quick to separate Lestat's identity from Louis every chance y'all get, then wanna whine & complain about the QotD movie pairing Lestat with Jesse, or AR tryna pair Les with Tom, Dick & Harry.

And YES, I will die on the hill that this whole anti-feminine discourse about AMC!Louis is couched in racial prejudice and biases--a trap that even Black fans who are pro-Louis fall into, while ignoring the struggles of effeminate/feminized gay Black men in their own effing community (X X X X).

But this is BY FAR more endemic in spaces predominately occupied by straight white women, who utterly fail to relate to their direct antithesis: gay Black men (X X). So of course they'll leap on every chance they get to glom onto long-haired blonde white drama queen Lestat as their spirit animal, even when he's LITERALLY TELLING Y'ALL that he himself identifies himself with LOUIS.

(Lestat's toxic color blindness is a whole 'nother conversation, omg. X X X)

Lestat says "she" because it's conventional speech to refer to places--especially continents, countries, and cities--as female, denoting motherhood and wives--places as people that take care of their own, as a mother would her children and/or spouse; a la the Statue of Liberty, personified virtues, and most abstract concepts we've inherited from Greco-Roman gender inequality about women as home-makers (HOUSEWIVES) being barefoot & pregnant in the kitchen. It's not even an exclusively English phenomenon. NOLA, like any city, is referred to as a "she."

So yes, to an extent, Lestat is channeling LOUIS; waiting at home for his spouse to come back and TAKE CARE OF HIM again. But Lestat is NOT a home-maker. He's living in a nasty AF shack, with only his music for company (and we know his tour's all about TVL & Akasha & Marius & Claudia & Louis). He treats his own Millennial Fledgling (his BLOOD CHILD) like trash; setting him on fire "IN LOUIS' HONOR" and not even knowing his name--he's NOT tryna be no one's MOTHER. He couldn't even bring himself to be Claudia's effing FATHER when she was literally burning alive two feet away from him, FFS.

But it's not about the brick & mortar or the PLACE itself--it's about the PERSON it's attached to--cuz Lestat always knew that Louis would eventually come back to NOLA--come back HOME--and FIND LESTAT WAITING FOR HIM THERE.

EVERYTHING & ANYTHING FOR LOUIS.

But AMC leaves it deliberately open-ended and ambiguous what Louis says to Lestat during their hug, and we don't see Lestat in Dubai, or any implication that Loustat is remarried/a couple again. Louis' putting down the torch, to stop accepting everyone's effing dregs; "your tired, your poor, your huddled masses...the wretched refuse of your teeming shore." Cuz Lou's decided to finally start learning how to live on his own for the first time in his entire life; for himself, not other people--AND realize that he doesn't need to rely on his husbands to fight his battles for him. "I own the night!"

[wizardpink]

Hi! Random question, but do you think the show will have Daniel call Armand "boss" now that the Maître thing happened? I know it's very prevalent in the books, but it might have different and/or interesting Implications™ in the show.

This question reminded me of one of my favorite episodes of the It's Always Sunny podcast. Stay with me here because we are going on a journey.

If there's any journalist in the world, living right now, who doesn't have a boss, it's Daniel Molloy.

There was a post recently that said something about how the point in the story where the timeline shifts the most dramatically from the books to the show is in the early 80s, when Armand DOESN'T turn Daniel into a vampire. I think that is a major part of why the Devil's Minion storyline in the show scared and angered so many fans in the finale. It's so different from the story we fell in love with! But we were so focused on Armand being different (possibly turning Daniel out of spite) that we forgot that Daniel is the one who is really different, in a really genius and wonderful departure from the books.

In the books we know human Daniel primarily as a man in his early 20s through his early 30s, but who he is in his early 30s is extremely heavily influenced by all the things that happened to him in that previous decade. Meeting Louis, meeting Armand, being pursued by Armand, and finally becoming Armand's lover.

But show Daniel had a great big reset button pressed on his life either at the end of the interview or at the end of his and Armand's romance, and he got to experience a life that book Daniel never did, and as a result it shaped him into a man that I think book Daniel always would have become, until he got derailed. And it's fascinating how BOTH paths make perfect sense even though they start at the same pivotal point!

Book Daniel meets vampires and then immediately is sucked into their world permanently. It becomes his realm as well. And in that realm are hierarchies and power dynamics that he has to exist within. He becomes subservient in ways to Armand, to Marius, etc etc. I could go on but you know what I mean.

Show Daniel however! Show Daniel meets vampires and gets pushed OUT of their world back into the world of humanity. And yes, in that realm are hierarchies and power dynamics that he has to exist within. But they're upheld by human beings! People who are no better than Daniel himself, and certainly no more frightening than the shit he's already been through whether he can remember it or not. Show Daniel pursues any story, any lead he wants no matter how dangerous or powerful the subject matter may be. He writes what he wants when he wants, and it works because he's fucking good at it. And it doesn't always work out for him! He says he's been fired and rehired, he's been nearly killed when an interview subject gets skittish or tired of his bullshit. But the point is, he went out and he made his own damn rules. He's brash and opinionated and has zero filter. He'll say whatever he wants to anyone, demand answers and truth from anyone. And no one is gonna tell him he can't. They're gonna have to drag him out of here or kill him to shut him up.

Armand and Daniel's maker/fledgling, devil/minion dynamic is going to be SO DIFFERENT from the books and yet JUST as juicy because the important things -- the love, the longing, the passion, the understanding, the recognition -- that is all still there. But I don't see 69 year old Daniel Molloy falling over himself to worship and cowtow to Armand. My DREAM is we see BOTH dynamics just to juxtapose the two, and the strife it creates as two people who once loved each other try to get back to that place now that they aren't those people anymore.

So tl;dr, yes and no. If he says it, it's going to be like, one time and so dripping with sarcasm Armand will be fighting his fangs again. If we get an earnest pet name it'll be very private I feel (as opposed to Armand who would call Daniel his beloved in line at the post office).

Also on a personal note, "boss" is so deeply unsexy. Goons and henchmen call the Joker boss, I don't want that haha. Oh and also I have like zero recollection of him calling Armand "boss" in the books, that's a detail that my brain mulched up and ate years ago I guess. So I was the wrong person to ask this. Thanks for reading though! 😂

[gallierhouse]

Armand might be dissociated from his body on some level, in the sense that it’s not him so much as it is this thing the concept of Armand occupies and is defined by. It’s a foreign object he lives in, and it’s a foreign object that defines him, but ultimately whatever happens to the foreign object is fine, because it’s simply how life goes. Things happen to bodies. Things happen to people. Pointless trying to escape this cycle. It’s the most fundamental rule of the world. Arun got sold, Amadeo got bought, and Armand’s neither and both of those people anymore, and it was all a lifetime ago and it means nothing and it’s not who he is, and it’s also all he’ll ever be. I wonder if he delineates his life like this in his mind. Once upon a time, there was this boy named Arun from Delhi, and then he got sold to a ship captain. Some time later, there was this boy named Amadeo who lived with his lover, master, and teacher Marius, then one day Amadeo got turned by Marius, and Amadeo became a vampire. Then, in a different city, in a different time, there was a vampire named Armand and he led a coven and he worshipped God through Satan and he met this vampire named Lestat. Then some time later, there was a vampire named Armand, and he ran a theatre. Then there was a vampire named Armand, and he was married to a vampire named Louis. Then there was nothing. Near little sections. You see it in how he describes his life, weaving in between first and third person because it’s still too painful to identify with those memories, so the only way he can talk about it is by pretending he’s talking about someone else. It was so long ago. It can’t still define him. A million mortal lifetimes come and gone between Arun and Armand. He can’t still be the boy he was on that ship. He can’t be someone if he’s not that boy on the ship. There’s no present without history. I think it’s a loop that eats him up, the repeated identification and de-identification as he tries to unspool who he is. The tragedy is that he’ll probably never have a satisfactory answer, because there are too many missing pieces. If you spend your life structured around the needs and desires of other people then there’s really no space left for you. I do think Armand has a personality, but I don’t think that means he can recognize himself in the mirror. I don’t know if he has an identity. It’s just another story he tells. Half-blank, half-apocalyptic.

[moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown]

Armand does not know how to properly love or be loved by someone if it’s not him being a means of service to them. He is unable to fully understand what real companionship and love is.

He was molded by the grooming of Marius, who as we learned, doted on him and showed him ‘love’ but it was all a means for Marius to keep him as a sex object (of sorts I’m still reading Armands book but from my eyes, bro just straight up grooming a harem of boys) until he was turned. And then pimp him out to his friends. He was molded to be a thing for people. So that he could be ‘loved’

He was molded to hate humanity, and hate being what he was turned into by the children of darkness. He finds being a vampire a fate worse then death, he hates humanity until he meets Lestat.

Lestat comes in, fucks up all his ideals of what being a vampire is, destroyed the original coven, and Armand became obsessed with him, with serving him, even if it wasn’t really serving Lestat it was simply being…a means to an end for him. After Lestat learned what he could do as a vampire he fucked off. And Armand has been obsessed with him since because it’s how he was molded to love.

Then he meets Louis who comes in, no care for the new take on the laws, and lets Armand be a service, when he needs something, when he wants something, it becomes ‘Arun’ and ‘maître’ it becomes 70 years of trying to atone for the lies on lies he built and him trying to keep them all in place so Louis will stay with him. So he is needed.

Then Daniel comes in, and threatens it all, and succefully ruins the 77 year old lies Armand has built a shell with. The lies that kept Louis with him and while not happy, kept him sedated enough just thinking it was hurting who he thought killed Claudia.

Armand is molded by the need to be a service to others to be loved by others. He is incapable of thinking love is anything other then, being a service to someone. Be it him destroying everything and everyone in the way, burning his companions daughter alive, lying to make it seem he had no choice when he was the one who directed every second on that stage. It was still a fucked up ideal of ‘love’

“I love you so much I let you burn all things I had down, I let you kill my family of 200 years, I let you do as you please with others because I know they can not give you what I give you. Because you need me. And yes I played a big hand in killing your daughter, yes i lied over and over, but it’s forgiven, you said it was. Because you need me and I need you. I love you so much because without I am a shell, a void, no insides because you don’t tell me what I should be. How do I be of service to you. How do I fix it. How to I fix the decades of lies I used to protect me from you leaving.”

Armand built lie on lie on lie because he is a shell of a void of a boy once named Arun, who was taken by slavers, and sold to a brothel, to be used and molded into whatever a paying person wanted, a boy taken and renamed Amadeo, to be shaped into what Marius wanted, to be used and used again. To be taken by a cult, and used as a leader figure, to hate humanity, to be used as a teacher, to be used as a coven leader, to be used as an object of spite. Armand is a shell, a void. A hole. Because he never got to learn how to be anything else. In 514 years he never learned how to simply be Armand. To be whoever HE wants to be.

Because he doesn’t know what he wants to be.

[funkycloewn]

I've once again come from the dead to post lmaooo

After having avoided the pilot for so long in fear of getting sucked into the world and fandom, I finally watched Lackadaisy! (My fears were right btw as it has a grip on me rn) I love it and subsequently read the comic so I knew everything and wouldn't get spoilered.

Anyway, a little time after I came across the amazing interactive fic called the Under The Devil's Moon made by @libras-interactives

I enjoyed a lot (and can't wait for the next chapter/update) and couldn't help but make ocs due to this fic being a sort of self insert thing

These characters shown are only two out the five I made :]

It's sorta rambly but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! (Especially you, Iibra 🥺)

Name: Margaret Quinn

Nickname: Daisy

Date of Birth: October 26, 1889 (31 Years Old)

Personality:

(Mostly the usual callgirl personality with some stuff added into the mix)

Years of being in the industry, has shaped this feline to be calm, gentle and soft spoken. She knows what her customers want and acts accordingly so. Though, she doesn't particularly show it — that would be bad for her image as a callgirl — she is quick to give a person a label, to categorize them. She doesn't mean to be judgy but this mindset has helped her out countless of times, so she continues on; getting to know that someone is the only way for her to lift off the verdict she holds. With the ones she loves, Margaret is very caring towards. Making sure they're well fed with both food and love is one of her top priorities. (Though, recently that has been a difficult task to maintain) This, unfortunately, can make her pushy and stubborn even when she means well.

Romantic Relationship:

Out of all the characters to choose from I chose our friendly local bartender, Viktor Vasko. At one time I was thinking of either Zib or Sable but after reading about how he would treat Chester, I was sold. I can't for that romance to unfold! :D (rhyming unintended)

Other:

• She was born and lived most of her life in the outskirts of New Orleans

• Her mother succumbed to a yellow fever outbreak, leaving her and a few other kids orphaned.

• This led to her forming a group with said children and the four of them residing in an abandoned shack.

• Margaret knows how to fix things at least temporarily because of this (e.g. pipes and infrastructure).

• (This one is a little violent so warning for that :'D) Both her front paws are missing their claws. This is due to a farmer who got sick of her constantly stealing his chickens.

• The pearl necklace she has, was given to her by Flynn. She doesn’t like anyone to know that and avoids the question when asked who she got it from.

• She likes fidgeting with the pearls. The way they softly clack when moved and the feeling of them soothes her.

• Due to her motherly nature, she will "adopt" (translation: care and look after) anyone under the age of 25 with who she is somewhat close to, especially when they are boys

• She sees Jack and Marius as older sons of hers

• Rocky could (will) be a contender for the spot of a fourth son

• She always carries a box containing a sewing kit, buttons and patches

• This has come in handy plentiful of times for Jack, mostly. On rare occasions Marius is in need of them, though I would think he's picky on what she uses; they have to match.

• Though, she says she doesn't know who Chester's father is, she knows. She just doesn't like to acknowledge it.

Voice Claim: Tiana from Princess and the Frog

Name: Chester Quinn

Date of Birth: January 6, 1917 (3 Years Old)

Personality:

This little troublemaker, has a great fondness for being one with the earth. By that I mean, he loves digging. Chester likes creating craters at playgrounds or parks, all the while letting himself be covered in freshly dug up soil. Almost all of his clothes have a grass stain and Larochka fears that he might have stained his chubby little hands for eternity. Speaking of fashion, he hates wearing shoes. A tantrum is bound to occur if you simply try to make him wear a pair. Even if you somehow achieve the impossible, he will just claw them off and chuck them. However despite all that, he's well meaning and can be gentle at times. He enjoys snuggling with him Mama or Larochka. Chester is very social and when out he's always looking for a way to make people smile.

Other:

• If he likes you, he'll make you a 'special mud pie' (a mud pie sprinkled with hand picked flowers; the more flowers, the more he likes you)

• He's handsy, mostly because he's an affectionate boy but also due to the fact he has poor eye sight.

• While he's chubby right now he grows to look more like his father, even somewhat in the face department.

• Fortunately for everyone and the tom himself, he grows out of his habit to refuse any kind of footwear. Don't tease older Chester about his phase, though, because he will get embarrassed and he will look like he just ate a sour lemon.

Voice Claim: Greg from Over the Garden Wall

Cleaned up and with his eye color when he gains his melanin

Wonder who the dad is lmaoo

Lastly a size comparison (not sure if it's accurate tho lol)