#a little mercy killing

[2leggedshark]

I'm going to end up murdering someone soon

[theoppositeofprofound]

not to go off topic but i think that ideal post-canon dungeon meshi situation for kabru is for him to simultaneously have a slowburn domestic cozy noodles and rare escapes to go monster hunting and falling asleep in the same bed situation with mithrun AND some sort of high politics high stakes power dynamics they can't escape, manipulation equally matched by hopeless affection, glances shared over council tables, getting caught in the closet with the king again (explaining basic social protocols to him) thing with laios.

then just as he's coming to terms with his own feelings and the possibility that they might be romantic he learns that mithrun and laios have in fact been carrying on some sort of psychosexual no-strings affair the whole time (mithrun sits on the dresser and dispassionately explains horrific and bizarre monster situations from around the globe while laios gets off seven feet away)

[starry-bi-sky]

finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

[fyoht]

oh my god. look at him. what a little bitch.

[tanis-zed]

You know, it’s probably a good thing Harrow spent her first few days/weeks as a lyctor being a sopping wet vomit creature, because if she hadn’t John, and more scarily, Mercymorn and Augustine might’ve realized how frighteningly competent she is as a necromancer.

[averagemrfox]

Yea ok but if that really is the Summer Maiden behind them and she’s just a kid and they put these two in charge of training and guiding her

The mother who abandoned her own child and killed the prior Spring Maiden both out of fear and the sibling who was loyal to the wrong person until it was almost too late and was unable to save her baby sister… I’m sure they’re coping fine with that responsibility

[vigilskeep]

ranking da love interests on a scale of how unhinged theyd be if their beloved was made tranquil (they would all be maximum unhinged its just a matter of deciding what flavour)

[marblerose-rue]

click for better quality!

the hush of rain / scourge

[notbxnny]

I cannot stop thinking about that scene at the end of s3ep5. I mean you think veep can’t surprise you anymore with how morally corrupt these characters are, and then, right in the middle of this extremely intimate scene with all this flirting and chemistry between dan and selena it comes SO incredibly out of left field it’s hard to even process. when dan tells selena he killed a dog, it is such a morbid, jarring tone shift (while still keeping comedic) but while he’s saying it, dan is pretty impassive. he’s a little sheepish, but in a way that says ‘this is such an embarrassing/idiotic childhood story’ a lot more than ‘i am confessing something crazy fucked up to my boss’. it feels like he’s almost proud of it even? like he’s a cat dropping a dead bird at her feet, saying: look at me, look at how ruthless I could be for you, look at the lengths I will go to. while he does acknowledges it was wrong, I think he’s probably convinced himself that it was a rite of passage, something proved he is capable of shedding any softness or empathy or desire that he perceives as weakness, that he has no use for morality. you can see that stifling desperation to bury any vulnerability or humanity, and to win the approval of who he perceives as authority figures, that compels dan a lot more clearly as the show progresses & it’s sorta sad to think how long hes been like that?

[abandoned-quiche]

i am in the very small minority that thinks noelle wasn't actually killing darkners in the weird route. snowgrave is specifically labelled as "fatal" while iceshock is not.

they don't work like human beings, where your cells start dying if you're encased in ice. they're COMPUTER PROGRAMS; computer programs freeze. get it?

it still sucks that you did all that. everyone gets frozen and then left behind in the cyber world. but berdly was the only one you KILLED.

[evilherehotel]

guys. guys the similarities. guys listen to me

[greencloakedfae]

How do we feel about the idea that Sofia hunts Nell down so intensly could be in part due to jealousy?

Its very clear that Sofia is very obsessive about hunting down Nell to frame her for Lord Blancheford's murder. Like she doesn't really need to do all of that. She has the benefit of it being her word against theirs, and the social status to back it up, and they quite easily hold the appearance of grieving children seeking out justice for their father through hired bounty hunters and a 40 pound reward on Nell's head. And like, there is something to be said for the fear that Nell may eventually get someone of importance on her side, and as such getting rid of her permanently is in their best interest. However, I think it would add an interesting layer to the whole dynamic to explore Sofia being jealous of Nell.

Because Nell and Sofia are very clearly two characters that are supposed to be similar yet on complete opposite sides. Their connection to magic, their values of protecting their siblings, and their want to have control over their own situations are just some to name a few.

Yet, Nell is able to escape Tottenham through marrying Captain Jackson, and then continues to keep a hold on her freedom through the way she dresses and presents herself, as well as with the support of her family. She even gets offered tenancy of the Talbot. It's not without consequences obviously, we see it all throughout the show, but she still has a lot more freedom than you'd expect for a woman of that time. Sofia however is still trapped. Her whole life is dictated for her thanks to her high status, and when her father dies, she only just gets a taste of some semblance of power over her own situation through running the estate (though this would be on the down-low and probably with credit attributed to Thomas) and learning magic offered by Poynton. And even then, she's still disregarded and disrespected by the men around her.

It wouldn't surprise me if a large motivation in hunting down Nell for Sofia is the satisfaction of stripping Nell of her freedom. This woman, who is so similar to her yet just because of the family she is born into, gets to have what Sofia can't. And in a 'If I can't have it, neither can you' type of way, I think Sofia would take that and internalise it until it becomes all consuming. Probably convincing herself that once Nell has been stripped of her freedom, she will finally get her own.

[daisywords]

finally got around to reading Mexican Gothic. It had me hooked and actually followed through (the buildup was good but I was worried the ending/revelation was going to fall flat. it held up though.) Anyway my take is that it felt like if a really good movie was a book. Like the story operated more on movie logic than book logic if that makes any sense. (not a criticism, just an observation.) Overall well done and well paced. Predictable enough to be coherent but mysterious enough to be compelling. There were a couple of elements that seemed a little clumsy to me, but forgivable in service of the whole. Would recommend if you want to read a book that feels like watching Crimson Peak or something

[littleplantfreak]

gn lovlies I’m gonna go dream about Umemiya getting bit in zombie apocalypse au

[unfinishedslurs]

LOUMAND EPIC DIVORCE FIGHT PT.3

if loumand has 1 million fans I am one of them if loumand has 5 fans I am one of them if loumand has 1 fan it is me if loumand has 0 fans I have been removed from this mortal plane if the world is against loumand I am against the world. failmarriage enjoyers come get y’all’s juice

“What happened to those ‘Great Laws,’ Armand?” He asked, fury rising in him again. “You know, the ones you killed my daughter for?”

“What do you want me to say? Would you have me apologize again so you can refuse it? To tell you that if I could go back and change it, I would? To turn back the wheel of time itself and undo it all? I cannot.”

Louis wanted to strangle him. Would, if he didn’t know that Armand would just sit there and let him, not feeling a damn thing. “I want you to feel fucking sorry!”

Armand rolled his eyes, but Louis had spent over seventy years sleeping next to the monster under the bed. Had decades to learn his tricks and tells. Not all of them, like he might have thought once, but enough to spot the minuscule shift in his expression. The brief twitch of his mouth and the shuttered blink before his face flattened.

There he is, he thought triumphantly. A reaction, a real one. Something that alluded to the man beneath the mask he always wore, not nearly as impenetrable as he thought it was.

“‘Sorry,’” he scoffed, lifting his chin haughtily. “Sorrow is for mortals. We are vampires, Louis. We do not have the time to waste on regrets and what-if’s.”

As if he hadn’t seen into Armand’s mind countless times. As if he had not held him through a thousand nights of wishing he could go back and save his Maker, save Riccardo, save his brothers. As if he had not once confessed to Louis that he sometimes wished he could go back and die a human death in Marius’ arms. The audacity of the lie was almost like a slap in the face of their entire companionship. Or was Armand telling the truth, and those memories the lie? How much did Louis know him, really?

He couldn’t be sure anymore, but he was confident that it was better than any living being on this earth. Enough to get through the lies and rip into the man underneath, the fragile heart in the photograph. If Armand owed him anything, it was this.

“No time? We got nothing but time! You really expect me to believe that when your fledgling is flaunting himself in front of millions with no Maker in sight? You telling me you’re a deadbeat ‘cuz you don’t feel regret?”

Armand’s mouth pursed before he stepped back. “Don’t speak of things you don’t understand,” he warned, eyes darting back and forth. Settling on the closest window like he was thinking about an escape.

Louis didn’t give him one. “Oh, I understand plenty,” he scoffed. “I probably understand better than you. What, you thought you’d make our ‘symbol of love’ immortal for shits and giggles?”

That finally got a visible reaction out of him, swiveling his head back to look at Louis with wide eyes. “I didn’t—“

“You let your coven fucking lynch me because of my fledgling, but eight decades later you’re doing the same damn thing! To the ill and infirmed, no less.”

“What do you want from me?” Armand finally burst out, whirling around on him in an incandescent rage. Louis felt himself smile, could feel his lip splitting as his fangs dropped. “I have apologized time and time again—“

“Only ‘cuz you thought it would fix things!”

“—spent years throwing myself at your feet for your mercy—“

“Mercy? Did you show my daughter—“

“Will it ever be enough? Over seventy years devoted to you—“

“A drop in a bucket compared to the fact that it was over half my life—“

“I don’t know what else I can do!”

“Say sorry and fucking mean it this time!” He roared. “Feel fucking sorry for lying to me throughout our entire companionship! Say something real for once!”

They both fell silent at that, chests heaving through some faded muscle memory. Puppets just going through the motions yet again. What was it that Armand said? Mark it on the calendar, align it with Ursa Major. Louis and Armand’s tri-annual blow-up fight to kingdom come.

Louis’ voice trembled as he said, “I want to know why. None of that ‘I could not prevent it’ shit. I want you to tell me why you let them kill my daughter.”

Armand sank down on the couch, shoulders slumping. Submission and acceptance coloring every inch of him. “Why?” He murmured, staring at his knees. “It will not change anything.”

Louis sat on the other end, keeping as much distance between them as he could. “Humor me.”

“…it is true, that it was because of Madeleine,” he finally admitted. “She was somewhat of a last straw. I had told you before, the creation of more creatures like us was something I could not condone. If you did not love me enough to understand and accept that, how could I trust you over the people in my coven? How could I believe you would not leave me to whatever caught your fancy next?”

“And saving me?”

“Lestat—“

“I don’t mean on stage. Why didn’t you let me die in the coffin? I was almost gone. It would have been over, and then you would have had your coven and spent the rest of eternity directing plays, fooling an audience, listening to Santiago blabbering on…”

“So you’d submit me to a punishment worse than death,” Armand said dryly.

He almost cracked a smile before he remembered himself. “I’m not in the mood to be funny right now.”

Armand sighed, as if Louis was some insufferable child he was humoring. It pissed him off, but yelling wouldn’t get him what he wanted right now. Even if it would be cathartic and incredibly deserved. “The coven wasn’t the same, after,” he said. “They had lost respect for me. In part, I suspect, because they could sense the regret you seem so insistent on. Santiago had never liked me much—“

“He wanted to fuck you.”

“He got off on forcing me to submit. He knew the name I had told you. I don’t know how, whether he heard you say it or if he plucked it out of your head through the appalling shields Lestat had not trained you on—“

“Don’t talk about him. This is about us.”

He looked briefly incensed at that, and he could almost hear the retort, “But you can speak about Daniel?” He didn’t say it, though, because Daniel was different. Daniel had been theirs, in a way that Louis couldn’t put to words.

Armand must have known that too, because he moved on without comment. “The coven could sense my guilt, my regret, and they closed in on me. Is that what you wished to hear? That I saved you to save my own skin?”

“Okay.”

Armand looked at him in surprise, frowning. “Okay?” He echoed.

“That was about what I expected to hear.” He learned back against the couch, letting the cushion swallow him and his regrets. It stung, but he was still too angry to really feel it. What was one more betrayal? What was one more petty grievance eighty years in the past?

Armand considered him for a moment. “It was also because I love you,” he said softly. “I do not want you to doubt that. The coven was only part of it. I found I could not bear the thought of your death.”

Found out too late, but hindsight is 20/20. What did it matter that Louis still had stones rattling around in his ankles? The constant reminder weighing him down, never as badly as the memories that came with them. If Armand had decided to wipe the trial from his mind, would he have removed them as well, or left them? Would Louis know why his footsteps felt so strange, what the aching in his heels heart meant when it echoed in his heart? He wished they were back in Dubai, so he could feel the comfort of his rock garden beneath his feet.

“Okay,” he said again. “Now pause the bullshit for a minute.”

Pause. Blink. Head tilt. He could see the cogs turning in Armand’s head like clockwork. For a master manipulator, he was always incredibly predictable. Or maybe Louis had spent too much time with him. “I’m not lying to you.”

“No,” he agreed, “but we’re going around the real problem. You said Madeleine was the last straw, but that was me. Let’s go back to that. Why did you kill my daughter?”

“The Great Laws—“

“I didn’t ask about them.”

Armand fell silent, studiously not looking at him. Louis settled back and waited him out.

Finally he spoke, very quietly. If they weren’t vampires he wouldn’t even have heard him. “I fear that if I tell you the truth, I will forsake the last bit of affection you may still hold for me.”

“If you don’t tell me, you’re gonna get the exact same result,” he said. “So I don’t think it matters.”

The blow struck. Armand swayed as if taking a physical hit, taking a deep breath he didn’t need. When he looked at Louis, his eyes were lined red with tears he didn’t let fall. Truth, or another tactic for sympathy? It didn’t matter. He had plenty of experience ignoring Armand’s tears in the bedroom, he couldn’t let himself falter when it mattered most.

“She reminded me of myself. Of the youth I once had.” It came out of him in a rush, as if he’d been holding the words back for centuries. “Amadeo begged his master to turn him for over a decade, and each refusal battered his very soul. As he grew older, taller, as hair began to grow on his face and chest and between his legs, as his master took him to his bed less and less. Amadeo was loved, yes, yet it was not until I was nearly thirty and dying that my master saw fit to give me the gift. I was jealous, Louis, is that what you wanted to hear? She had everything Amadeo had ever wanted, yet she cursed her own fortune with every breath she took. I forced her to reckon with it, quietly delighted in watching her perform a song that made her more miserable with every note. I thought she was a spoiled, inconsequential flea who would not make it another fifty years. I believed her to be the reason you refused my companionship. A hundred reasons, each of them more petty than the last. What does it matter? You will hate me no matter what.”

Louis thought he might be sick.

Armand closed his eyes, drawing back into himself. “If that was the only reason,” he said almost gently, “I would not have done it. But I had seen dozens like her over the centuries. Children are not meant for the gift. Either madness takes them, or they cannot bear the constant infantilization, or something else, it doesn’t matter. One by one they walk into the sun. The absence of choice can be a mercy.”

He clearly believed what he was saying, which just made it even worse. How much “mercy” had Armand offered over the years?

Even deeper down, Louis wondered if he was right. The first vampire they ever met in Europe had cast herself into the flames before their eyes. Louis himself had run headfirst into the sun and nearly succeeded. How many others had destroyed themselves because they could not bear the Gift they were given?

“Not Claudia. She was strong.” Stronger than Louis had ever been, certainly.

“They all say that, and yet they all succumb eventually.”

“She wouldn’t have”

Armand sighed. “I supposed we’ll never know,” he acquiesced. Louis could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

He let it slide this time. At least the words were true. “No, we won’t.”

They sat in silence for a time, not looking at each other. The only sound from the cars driving outside. They did not need to breathe, to blink, to move at all. As still as the pictures Louis used to take, back when things seemed like they might turn out okay.

Finally, Louis exhaled slowly. Armand turned toward him, but said nothing.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. I don’t forgive you.”

Armand didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just stared at him motionless, as if he was waiting for something.

“I don’t forgive you,” he repeated pointedly. “But I’m not going to kill you.”

“I don’t understand.”

Of course he didn’t. Hadn’t that been what he was aiming for when he turned Daniel? If you touch him, Louis had said, and Armand had given his fascinating boy the worst curse he could imagine as soon as his back was turned. 500 years passively yearning for an end no one would provide. Louis wouldn’t be the one to grant him mercy.

His final gift to Armand, or maybe his final “fuck you.” A long life. An eternity at his fingertips, exactly as Amadeo had once begged for. The chance to grow even more powerful until little Arun could never be hurt again. A chance to torture himself for the rest of time in a hell of his own making. A chance to better himself, if Louis was feeling generous.

He wasn’t sure, but after seventy-seven years of standing hand in hand with this man, this monster, this little boy trembling in the midst of all the power he held, he thought it was a kind of salvation. For both of them.

Besides, Daniel was thriving better than either of them in the throes of the Gift. Armand had to have known he would.

“I don’t either,” he said. “You’d deserve it. But I’m tired, Armand, and I loved you once. I think that counts for something.”

Armand’s eyes widened. He stood quickly, putting distance between them, but not before Louis saw a bloody tear slip down his cheek. “Don’t say that to me when you don’t mean it. I cannot bear it.”

He looked as pained as Louis had ever seen him, despair twisting his features at the words Louis had never afforded him when they were together. He was beautiful in his misery, as beautiful as he was in anything. He hated him for it as much as he’d loved him once. The Temptation of Amadeo, rendered in flesh and blood and the viscera of honesty.

“I do. I did,” he said, twisting the knife just to be cruel. “Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

Armand shook his head. Opened his mouth, then froze, caught between words. Still as a painting in the low lamplight. Louis could see the brush strokes on his face, see every piece of art he had shown him overlaid with the real man in front of him.

“Right,” Louis said, when enough time had passed that he was certain Armand wouldn’t say anything. “Glad we had this talk.”

“Are you?”

Louis surprised himself when he answered, “Yeah, actually. I am. You?”

“I don’t know.” He looked frail, sad, tired, but no closer to walking into the fire than he had been when Louis had cornered him.

He thought that deep down, he was probably relieved by it. The confirmation that Louis wouldn’t kill him, that the love between them hadn’t been a complete lie. Still, how would he know? His lack of understanding of Armand’s innermost thoughts had been made abruptly clear to him with a script marked in red ink.

“Anything else we should talk about?” He asked. “Any other lies? Any other Danny’s knocking around in my brain, waiting for me to remember them?”

“No. No, there was only one. Daniel Malloy is not an experience you can replicate, I suspect.”

“Thank God for that.”

He almost smiled at that. “Indeed.”

“Speaking of Daniel Malloy,” Louis said, standing up. “For fucks sake, pick up the damn phone. Give our boy a call.”

Our boy. A slip he hated himself for instantly. It was too easy to fall into their old patterns, something that was probably by design. Shock flashed over Armand’s face before it was replaced by humor. “He hates it when you call him that,” he pointed out.

“I’ve had to deal with that shit for a century, he can handle it.”

“He finds it arousing.”

“You’re not the only one who can read minds around here, you know.”

“Are you going to do anything about it?”

As if Armand still had any right to know who was in his bed. “Are you? Don’t think I didn’t pick up on his thoughts about ‘Rashid.’ You feeding him your blood was probably a dream come true for him. Did you get to pick his brain about it before it was closed to you forever? What did he think of the taste?”

Armand’s lips thinned, and he turned away.

Louis didn’t let him leave without a final blow. “You gonna tell him about the other memories you erased?”

He stiffened. “You have no right—“

“I have every right, and you know it.”

“If you must know, the answer is no. What difference would it make?”

A pretty damn big one, if you asked Louis. He felt it every time he talked to Daniel, the yawning cavern of curiosity surrounding the blank afterimages in his memory, the way he could clearly sense something wasn’t right. Searching the globe for Armand, chasing him in some kind of fucked up role reversal only one of them was aware of. And then Armand, clearly punishing himself with every echoed heartbeat, every kill Daniel took to like a shark in a reef. Only making them both miserable as he hid in solitude.

“Honesty, Arun,” Louis snapped.

They both froze. Fuck. Fuck. Falling into old habits indeed, the world's most ill-timed Freudian Slip. He’d tried so hard to stay away from it, to wrangle Armand’s honesty from him in a way that didn’t depend on the command of his submission. He’d finally gotten what he wanted, and then he had to go and screw it up.

“I am not Arun to you, anymore.” Armand’s voice trembled. “I would prefer you did not use it.”

Louis nodded, even though Armand couldn’t see him. Bit back the instinctive apology on his tongue.

“I do not see the use in continuing this pointless conversation. Is there anything else you want of me, anything else you require?”

Yes. He wanted to shake him, tell him that they weren’t done here. He still had questions. He wanted to strip Armand down to the bone, rip his flesh off piece by piece and expose the skeleton underneath. Would that finally reveal the truth, or would he have to go deeper? Into bone marrow, the stem cells, his DNA. Would that allow Louis to know him?

It didn’t matter. The mask had gone up, and Louis didn’t have the energy to pull it back down again.

“No.”

Armand nodded once, his back still to Louis, before walking to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob. “I have always been a coward, Louis,” he confessed, still staring straight ahead. Louis could see the set of his shoulders, the clench of his fist, but not his face. “There is your truth.” He twisted the knob, opened the door. “You will not see me again, if you do not wish.”

Before Louis could reply, he was gone.

[jfkisonthemoon]

han sooyoung did not write both TWSA and ORV in the slim hopes that one of them would save kim dokja's life for y'all to write her off as the "angry lesbian who only cares about getting her gay friends together"