#armand apologetic
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why do so many people act like lestat has better morals or is nicer then Armand in some way? there is nothing in the books that suggest this, Lestat and Armand have committed like the same exact crimes (even the sexual ones.) have fairly similar philosophies on murder (lestat tries to only kill criminals cuz he doesn’t want to take innocent life, Armand tries to only kill people who want to die and would otherwise take there own lives bcus he doesn’t want to take the life of someone who wants to live) Lestats moral stance on killing is more brutal arguably then Armand’s bcus he chooses to kill criminals cuz he likes chasing down his prey and tormenting them it’s fun for him, and Lestat finds maintaining his criminals only rule very hard bcus he “loves innocent blood it tastes better” which is fun. Armand sometimes brutally kills or hunts too and definitely drinks a lot of innocent blood but more often then not tries to make his killing as sparse and merciful as possible. Literally the only evidence at all that Lestat is a better person then Armand is the fact that most of the books are narrated by Lestat who is always informing the audience of his perspective while committing his crimes while Armand never explains anything he ever does even in his own book. But taking “we know more about what lestat thinks” to mean “lestat is a better person then Armand cuz he’s easier to understand” is shallow and biased imo.
show only fans who think Lestat is a better person then Armand make even less sense to me bcus there is even less to suggest this in the show, in fact there is significant evidence to suggest the opposite 😭? But again, Lestat and Armand both torture people, they both are physically violent and scary, both are abusive, both are highly motivated by histories of trauma and being crazy, etc. they are like the same amount of bad 😭 did I miss the thing that told everyone that lestat has a kind heart and Armand doesn’t 💀. I think people just sympathize easier with Lestat in the show bcus he has a really sad backstory we r informed of, but idk bcus we r also informed of Armand’s very sad backstory that In my opinion is easier to conceptualize as capable of breaking someone’s brain to the point where they casually enact torture and live in a constant state of violence. the worst of Lestat’s trauma happens to him when he is like (in the show) 37? 💀 which is still terrible, obviously, but man. I don’t see how he is more sympathetic then Armand😭
#Would show fans sympathize with Armand more if he was played by a white blonde? I guess we will never know#I love Lestat btw. Armand and Lestat are little sharts /affectionate#armand#iwtv#the vampire chronicles#the vampire armand#interview with the vampire#amc iwtv#iwtv amc#vampire chronicles#lestat de lioncourt#Armand#armand iwtv#armand apologetic
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shameless apologetics, but Daniel sure does tune out intensely when Louis is talking about what actually drew him to Armand. like obviously everything from all sides is soured by then (Louis's sideeye at the love declaration etc) but damn, interviewer really did skip that in its entirety
#he gets distracted by Raglan's message on the laptop#I kinda wonder what the show-writing reasoning was actually#like yes it makes Armand seem even more awkward and ill-fit but that's hardly a necessity pfft#maybe they considered the abortive cafe scene sufficient#but then when the very next SCENE reminds us that one of Lestat's central sins was unwillingness to talk like?#it's like. the contrast is so completely glossed over it starts to detract from the oomph of the obv much more horrifying similarities late#(as I said. shameless apologetics!)#iwtv#if anyone who follows me has that blacklisted and hasn't unfollowed me for my terrible tagging
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To Be Loved | Armand x Reader
ෆ idolized and worshipped by your coven members, alive but not living, things quickly change for you when you move to Paris, and meet your soulmate.
requested via private messages, this was so cute, no manipulative gremlin armand.
What is Love? A feeling of deep admiration or likeness? Patience, kindness, unconditional forgiveness? It was hard to tell. The emotion had become so distant from you, a faint memory from half of a millennial ago. Love required trust, and you couldn't bring yourself to trust another.
“My lord, the sun has departed for the night,” Demetrius said, making you look up from your lap. Everyone kneeled before you, their heads down.
“You may go and hunt,” you dismissed them, closing your eyes. You could feel their stares lingering, hesitating, as they stood up, leaving you alone in the dungeon.
“How long will you starve yourself? At least feed on the rodents, you look like death,” hearing her voice, feeling her closeness, but refusing to face her, to acknowledge the concerned expression.
“Good, then I’m one step closer to dying for good,” you sighed.
“Y/n, don't be stupid, go drink, it is an order from your maker,” she ordered, making you open your eyes.
“Leave me,” you screamed, facing her, but she was gone.
Cassia, the reason you were here today, the last person you trusted. You were from a wealthy family, and your father, and his father, both swordsmiths, valued, oftentimes working alongside kings and their soldiers.
While he was never home, your mother was too immersed in raising your younger siblings to focus on you, nevertheless, you were loved. On birthdays and traditional holidays, you'd receive amazing gifts of all kinds, praised and advised on everything, you couldn't have asked for a better life. It wasn't until the mysterious young woman, Cassia moved close by, that your life changed.
You had been out later than usual, on your way home from a friend’s house, when you saw her. She stood outside of her house, reaching for the apples on the tree.
“Hey, could you lend me a hand, I can't reach these,” she called out, stopping you, just as you passed her short fence.
“I really need to get home,” you said, apologetically.
“It will only take a moment, please, come,” she said, watching as you awkwardly entered the gate. You didn't understand how she thought you could help when there wasn't a big difference in your height.
Jumping a few times, you managed to knock the apples out of the tree. Picking them up, you placed them in her basket, turning to leave, but she stopped you.
“Bring them in,” she told you, already walking into the house. Glancing down the road at your house, you picked up the basket, and you entered the home. It was much brighter than outside with all of the candles, neatly arranged.
“You can sit them on the table,” she said, turning to face you. Your eyes widened for a moment, she was one the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her skin was perfect, smooth with a few small moles, full lips, doll eyes, and glossy soft hair.
“Thank you,” she told you.
“You're welcome,” you said, turning to leave.
“How old are you? I heard your family a few weeks back, celebrating a birthday,” she said.
“Eighteen”
“And you aren't betrothed?” she asked, as she moved closer.
“No, my father will begin looking for arrangements later this year,” you explained.
“Good, whoever has you, will be lucky, you have a heart of gold,” she said, her hand going to your cheek. She was moving closer, making you uncomfortable, an eerie grin on her lips.
“Go, it is getting late, but come back tomorrow night,” she continued.
There was something intriguingly bizarre about the woman because despite how weird she seemed, the next night you found yourself, fidgeting with your fingers, in front of her door, contemplating if you wanted to knock. Just as you raised your hand, the door opened.
“Come in,” she smiled, moving out of the way.
“I don't believe I got your name, yesterday night,” she continued.
“Y/n,” you held out your hand.
“Cassia,” she raised an eyebrow, taking your hand into her own.
Awkwardly staring at your hands, while she gazed at you, she continued caressing her thumb against your skin. Clearing your throat, you took your hand away.
“What did you need?”
“I have a gift, for your generosity,” she said.
“No need, it was nothing-
“I insist, please, sit,” she pointed to the table. Gulping, you went to sit down, something peculiar about her tone sent a chill down your spine.
“I hope you like apples, I made pastries, it has been a long time since I’ve made anything like these, but I know they are delicious,” she smiled, setting the tray in front of you. The slice of fresh apple pie, along with cookies.
“Thank you, this really was unnecessary,” you shook your head, breaking a piece of the cookie.
“You were the first and only to help me, it is obvious that you have been chosen,” she told you, watching as you ate the cookie.
“Do you like it?” she asked, smirking as you nodded. Chewing, you began to cough a little, repeatedly clearing your throat, and staring into the cookie. Standing up, you made your way to the door, stumbling, Cassia slowly behind you, catching you, as you fell unconscious.
Waking up, you struggled to move, opening your eyes, confused to see Cassia, straddling your lap, placing a variety of ointments and oils onto your body.
“W-what is going on?”
“I am preparing your body for your death,” she told you before she started humming.
“My what? Release me,” you wiggled, stopping as her hand went to your throat.
“You have been chosen, do not ruin this,” she snapped.
“Cassia, please, what are you talking about?”
“Those who must be kept were cursed, damned to eternity on earth, and to live off of blood, but the creator showed them mercy, bestowing soulmates. A companionship stronger than any other, the perfect partner, meant only for those with the dark gift. My soulmate, Elias, was weak, he chose the sun, he chose death over me. I’ve prayed and prayed, and I asked for another soulmate, and you have come along, helping me and I have to turn you to ensure we have each other forever,” she said, your eyes widened in fear, shaking your head.
“You're mistaken-
“I haven't been more certain,” she told you, her fingers brushing over your lips before she bared her fangs.
“To us, and an eternity of our love,” she said, sinking her fangs into your neck draining the life from out of you.
Turning you, within a single night, you had lost everything. Your family, friends, life, everyone sensed how different you became. How you suddenly left home and would only be seen with the strange woman. The same exterior, but a different entity possessing the body they once knew. The new social discrimination you experienced didn't help, being shunned for your not-so-obvious relationship with Cassia.
She was a lonely soul and out of your kindness, she convinced herself you were her second chance at love. She would later explain how it felt when you would come across your soulmate. How you would love them no matter who they were, their shade, or where they were from. She didn't realize it until turning you, but she had been wrong, there was no second chance. She would've let you go, to find your way with the dark gift, but she couldn't.
After the side effects wore off, the way you looked at her, your maker, brought butterflies. She knew it was only the gift, bringing on the newfound lust, but she gave in anyway. It was nothing more than sex for you but after centuries of celibacy, it felt like lovemaking to Cassia. On the living room floor, until morning came, then reality came down on you. Pulling away, a hint of disgust in your eyes, she knew then. Running outside, you only made it past her fence, before you fell to your knees, screaming in agony.
“Cassia,” you cried out, confused why this was happening.
Wearing a cloak, she grabbed a blanket and rushed out to save you, carrying you back into the house. From that point, even if you weren't hers, she loved you and felt a need to take care of you. After a few decades together, you eventually accepted her, but she knew it was only a matter of time before you came across your soulmate. That is why, a century into your companionship, she finally surrendered to the sun, leaving everything to you.
The last person to love you had left you alone. Her wealth and dark gifts, she passed, but you were utterly alone. You became a vagabond, you had no one to keep you settled in one place. You attempted to surrender a few times, but Cassia’s spirit wouldn't seem to leave you alone, talking you out of it every time. You formed a bitterness towards her, she claimed to love you, yet she brought you into this lonesome life, just to leave you.
Eventually, you found yourself in Rome, Cassia’s homeland. She and her soulmate were both turned and met here. You acted as if you hated her, but found yourself in the very place she was born. Buying a large home in the countryside, you were satisfied with the large dungeon in the home.
Not long went by, before your encounter with the local vampires. They came to you on a night you stood near a cliff, trying to pray. You had been trying for so long, you didnt have an end solution. For God to make your life less lonely, to bring your soulmate, to help you finally end your life, you were sure he wasn't listening, but it helped pass the time.
As they surrounded you, you didn't bother facing them, maybe they could kill you, but then Cassia came, telling you to show them your power. You had inherited all of the gifts and were much older than them. Begrudgingly, you turned to them, flying above them, watching as they quickly submitted to you. Then, one of them pointed out that you were praying, perhaps you were their saint, a mediator for the damned to god himself.
You denied their claims, but they didn't listen, asking to reside with you, which was the beginning of your coven. Eight young vampires, you grew closest to Demetrius, Jonah, and Marianne. Three centuries came and went and they all remained devout. Even though, for the last few years, you would be off and on starving yourself for weeks at a time.
“My lord?”
“Yes, Demetrius?” you answered, slowly turning to look at him. On his knees, his head bowed, he held a box.
“For you, you shouldn't starve yourself like this,” he said, as you took the box, surprised to see the trapped rats inside.
“Thank you,” you said, grabbing one of the rodents, and biting into it.
“The others are too afraid to mention this, and asked me to bring it up with you,” he said, nervously.
“Well, out with it,” you told him.
“We want to leave Rome, a few locals have gotten suspicious, and the talk has made its way to the city. We could easily kill them, but it would cause too much attention, so we think it is best to leave,” he said.
“Stand up,” you told him. You found it so bothersome having all of them bowing and crawling at your feet.
“The others are aware that they are able to leave this coven, I will not stop any of you,” you told him, as he stood in front of you.
“Yes, but we want you to come, Marianne thinks we will be safe in Paris, but we want you to join us,” he said.
“Go with them, Rome no longer serves you any purpose, you only await death here,” Cassia told you, as you stared at Demetrius.
“How soon did everyone expect to leave?”
“As soon as possible”
“Then we will leave for Paris, and you all can come out from hiding,” you said, watching as your coven members slowly revealed themselves.
“Thank heavens, there is one more thing, Demetrius hasn't told you, my lord,” Jonah said, making you face him.
“And what is that?”
“We have hopes of blending in with society”
“Very well-
“I think they mean everyone”
“I mean everyone, and with the utmost respect, you will also have to adjust, or you will look out of place, Marianne can take care of your wardrobe,” he said nervously, glancing at her.
“Tell them yes,” Cassia said excitedly.
“If these are the plans, you all will need to prepare, as soon as possible,” you said, watching as everyone’s faces lit up, dropping to their knees, they worshipped you.
“This is good, you need the change, you can finally take steps towards living your life,” Cassia told you, as you lowered your head.
Hopefully. How long would your life continue like this? The vain worship, as if you were their god. You couldn't remember the last time someone looked into your eyes and saw you as an equal. Maybe Paris could change the agonizing lifestyle you felt trapped in.
“I hope I haven't overdone myself, my lord,” Marianne said, her head down, following you into the large castle-style home.
“It is perfect, I can't remember the last time I saw coffins this nice,” Cassia clapped, walking next to you.
“You have done well, everything is pleasant,” you told her, patting her head as she thanked you profusely.
“Amazing, we have our own coffins?” Alexander, one of the younger, newer members of the coven exclaimed. He was also Marianne’s soulmate.
“Yes, I apologize for my negligence as a coven leader over the years, in the dungeon, I felt no need for coffins, being that it was dark, but coffins are much more comfortable than the cold floor,” you told him, you didn't realize until after speaking, everyone stared at you with such admiration in their eyes.
“We chose you as our leader, and we accept any conditions, as long we can stay with you, although we are very thankful for the upgrade,” Jonah told you, everyone agreeing.
“Enough of the praise, there are still a few hours left in the night, go hunt, and travel together, until you are familiar with your surroundings,” you waved them off.
“You're not coming?”
“Perhaps another time, go on,” you told them, turning away, and going to your room.
It had only been a few hours since arriving in Paris, at the large house. Demetrius took care of finding the place, while Marianne furnished it, before your arrival. You couldn't lie, you felt uncomfortable, your usually unruly appearance had been completely changed, replaced by fitted trousers and a soft turtleneck.
You refused to be walking around in the strange dresses of the age and preferred androgynous pieces of clothing.
“Will you hunt tomorrow?”
“Cassia, why is it that even in death, you force yourself into my life, I am not yours,” you told her sternly.
“You are my fledgling, my blood flows within you, I can not leave you to die, not when you have so much potential and when you haven't given yourself a chance to find your soulmate, even in death, I love you more than myself”
“Then why did you leave? All you wanted was for me to love you, and when I did, you left,” you faced her, pointing accusingly.
“I made a mistake turning you, out of my own selfishness you were created. I couldn't keep you, and deny you the vampire meant to be yours. You can hate me, but I knew what was best, and trust me when I say, that coming to Paris was for the best, what’s yours is soon to come, sooner than you think,” she said, vanishing.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and Cassia never spoke to you. It was refreshing, not having her in your ear. Other than the praise and worship, Paris seemed like the change you needed. No one encountered any other vampires, and they all were beginning to blend, amongst the mortals, as they originally wanted.
“My lord, please help,” Marianne burst into your room. You were levitating, attempting to pray, but opened your eyes.
“What is it?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the blood smeared all over her face.
“Alexander is in trouble; he wandered off while we were hunting and came across a few other vampires, they followed him here and they're much stronger than the others, please do something,” she said, her voice filled with urgency. Nodding, you let your feet touch the ground, before following her.
Just as the door opened, you could see the vampires surrounding your coven, taunting them. Lifting from the ground, with only a flick of your finger, fire sparked around them, making them confusing look around looking up at you.
“Get away from them,” you warned them.
“You and your coven are in claimed territory, you’ve been here for months and haven't made your presence known,” one of the vampires spoke, his back had been turned to you the entire time.
“Careful,” Cassia spoke, you looked over at her. This was the first time seeing her in over seven months.
“I do not answer to other vampires,” you told him, going back to the ground, as he began to turn around.
Fire appeared in his hand, making you do the same, and just as he faced you, both of you froze. His eyes widened, while you shook your head in disbelief. Your heart was racing, goosebumps on your skin, as you stared at this beautiful creature. Your heart was reaching out to him, yearning to be loved and cherished by him, he was your soulmate.
“Enough, let them go,” he spoke to his coven, making them look at him confused.
“We can't just-
“Enough,” he raised his voice, and immediately they stopped, moving away.
Your coven slowly came to you, each of them bowing their heads at you. Alexander looking the most apologetic.
“I am sorry, my lord,” he started.
“You have done nothing wrong,” you reassured him.
“I am Armand, What is your name?” the man spoke, making your eyes shift back to him. As much as you knew for sure he was your soulmate, you refused to give in. To be used for his personal pleasures, like Cassia.
“That is none of your concern,” you said, and immediately he was in front of you. His eyes softened, reaching for your hand, but you took it away.
“You are my soulmate,” he started.
“And if I wasn't, what would have happened? You threatened my coven and me, I am quick to forgive, try again another time,” you spat, turning away, your coven following.
“You're just letting them leave,” Santiago asked, frowning.
“Yes, for now, we must go, the sun will be out soon,” he said, walking toward their bikes.
“Why would you deny him, deny yourself love?” Cassia asked.
“The sun will be out within the next hour,” you announced.
“You would rather be alone, and sulk until you die”
“Stop talking,” you muttered.
“You have followed in my footsteps with your selfishness”
“Cassia shut up,” you yelled, as your coven members shared looks of concern, seeing you yell at what seemed to be nothing.
“Everyone to your coffins,” you said, clearing your throat and going to your room.
“It is not my intention to hurt you, my love, but I don't want you to do this to yourself. If you could have seen from another perspective how he looked at you, he didn't want to harm you, if he comes back, give him a chance, please, for the both of us,” she told you, holding your cheek, before disappearing.
Going to your coffin, you blocked everyone out as they talked among themselves. Whispering questions, and ideas. As the sun came up, you fell asleep easily, all of them leaving your mind as you gave in to the well-needed rest.
Just as the moon covered the sky, you opened your eyes at the sound of a knock on the front door. Getting out of your coffin, you began to leave the room. You could see Demetrius at the door, it was only cracked, but you knew who stood on the other side.
“If I may speak with your leader”
“I don't think that is a-
“It is okay, Demetrius,” you told him, watching as he bowed, opening the door more to reveal him, holding a bouquet of roses.
“Are you sure?”
“I am, thank you,” you said.
“Good boy,” the youthful man said, tauntingly, while Demetrius slowly walked away, growling at him, as he disappeared into his room, as you approached the door.
“Is there something I can help you with?” you asked.
“You told me to try again another time, these are for you,” he said, holding out the flowers for you to take.
“I didn't think you would come so soon,” you said, making them fly across the room, landing on the nearby table.
“You are my soulmate, I couldn't go another moment knowing you are out there, away from me. I apologize for my coven and my behavior, we have been aware of your people for some time now, waiting for any of you to reveal yourselves,” he said.
“I too am at fault, I sensed the presence of another older vampire, but I didn't realize you would be so close,” you admitted, you couldn't decide if it felt odd or refreshing, as he stared into your eyes, nodding after each word that came from your mouth.
“Fate has a way of working, come with me, somewhere more private,” he said, holding out his hand. Hesitantly, you accepted his hand, exiting the house. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lifted from the ground, flying through the sky.
He didn't stop until he was at the famous art museum, freezing security, slowly lowering to the ground. As your cold feet touched the floor, his hand went from your waist to your hand, leading you up the stairs.
“Your coven, they worship you as if you are their god, Y/n, it took a lot of digging to find out your name,” he started.
“They have convinced themselves I am some sort of saint for the damned, I have denied the title, but now I think they have simply chosen to be loyal to me,” you shrugged.
“And your faithful servant, Demetrius?” he asked in a tone you didn't like.
“What about him?”
“He is only your devout worshipper? He seemed to care-
“He is loyal, but if we had anything going on, it wouldn't be any of your business-
“Y/n, don't act like that,” Cassia appeared.
“Would you be quiet,” you started, but froze, realizing you spoke to her, in front of Armand.
“Are you…alright, darling?” he asked, glancing at you.
“My maker insists on haunting me, to make up for her mistakes,” you confessed.
“Her mistakes….”
“She thought I could potentially be her soulmate, so she turned me, but when she realized I would eventually meet my soulmate, she went into the sun,” you said, as you focused on the artwork along the walls.
“I’m sorry”
“Centuries, I have been alone, honored but unknown to my coven, it was her, who had convinced me to come to Paris”
“Then I should be thanking her, for bringing you to me,” he smiled, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
“Armand, I can’t be with you, I hardly know you-
“You and I, we are more alike than you think, untrusting, hurt, a wall built around us, in hopes of protecting what was once wounded. I’m not asking for you to jump out of your comfort zone, but rather, I’d like to invite you to visit my theatre. You have to get to know someone to decide if they are worthy of being trusted,” he said, making you glance over at him.
This beautiful man, your soulmate, the deepest parts of your soul pleaded to give into his words. Fall into his embrace and exchange your love, but the emotional scars held you back.
Clearing your throat, you walked away from him, towards the next piece of art. “I’ll think about it,” you said, hearing his small chuckle, before he followed behind you.
“Where did you reside, before coming to Paris?” He asked, making you slightly frown.
“Why?”
“I’m only curious to know more about you, your background, how did a woman as beautiful as you, become a coven leader, with such powerful gifts,” he said.
“I could say the same, you look very young, how old were you?” you asked him.
“Ladies first,” he smirked. Looking into his eyes with a straight face, you searched for deception, any reason to not trust him, but you could find none. His body language was completely defenseless and open to you. Sighing, you opened your mouth, starting from the beginning, you shared your story with him.
From the windows, you could feel the eyes of your coven members. Lowering to the ground, with Armand, you held on comfortably, as the two of you continued talking.
The coven couldn’t deny how different you already seemed. This was the most they’d ever seen you speak, occasionally laughing at whatever the man had said. The sun would be out in less than an hour and here you stood out in the open, with the mysterious man.
“You should go, the sun will be out soon, and my coven, they are watching us”
“Intensely,” he agreed, making you snicker.
“You look so beautiful when you smile,” he continued, watching as you bit down on your lip.
“I have to go,” you said. Turning to leave, he reached for your hand, stopping you. Pulling the card from his pocket, he slipped it into your fingers.
“Come to the theatre, you and your coven,” he smiled.
“Sleep well, Armand,” you told him, walking away. You could feel the wind blow, as he flew into the sky.
Entering the house, your mood changed, seeing your coven shift their eyes from you. You knew it was out of respect, but you saw them as equals, and this was growing tiring.
“If any of you are up for it, we have been invited to Théâtre des Vampires, I’ll be going tomorrow,” you told them.
“And if you expect to blend in, then there will be no bowing or titles, we are going to enjoy ourselves, save your worship,” you said, turning to go upstairs.
“My lord,” you heard, as you were about to enter your bedroom.
“Yes,” you turned, facing Marianne.
“He’s your soulmate, isn't he?” she asked, a small smile, on her face.
“I’m afraid so,” you said lowly.
“Give him a chance, you deserve to be adorned with love and kisses. Just looking at him, I’m sure your heart flutters tremendously,” she said.
“Is that how you feel about Alexander?”
“From the moment I looked into his eyes, I fell in love, and it hasn't faltered since then, please, you deserve this,” she said, for the first time, meeting your eyes differently. Not as a devout worshipper, but a friend.
“Get some rest, Marianne,” you smiled at her, turning to leave her, going into your room.
“She’s right, you know,” Cassia spoke, as soon as the door shut.
“I thought you were done for the night,” you told her, as you removed your clothing, changing into your pajamas.
“I will be leaving you soon,” she smiled, looking down at her hands, two wedding rings decorated her finger.
“Giving me another break?”
“For good,” she said, as you snapped your head her way.
“What do you mean?”
“You have found your soulmate, you may not see it now, but Armand is persistent, and he loves hard. You will give in to his love, and finally, this void within you will be filled. Meaning, my work is done,” she smiled, a bloody tear dropping from her eye.
“Where will you go?”
“I am damned, so I would assume hell, not that it matters,” she laughed, bitterly.
“You don't have to do that, you can stay-
You began to protest, coming up with possibilities, while she stood, shaking her head. Approaching you, you began to cry quietly. You held a resentment towards her, yet you couldn't deny how much she meant to you, at this moment.
“You don't have to go,” you whispered.
“I may be damned, but I’ve done well with you, my greatest creation, my love, my angel — you make the dark gift shine beautifully in the night. You will always be the best thing that happened to me. All I ask is that you live, and continue to flourish, no matter what. No more dungeons, starving yourself, isolating from the world, do you understand?” she asked, smiling sadly, as you nodded.
“Yes,” you managed to speak.
“As much as I’d love to savor your lips, I will save them for your soulmate. Even when I’m not here anymore, I will live on through you. My blood flows in you, leaving a small piece of me with you, for an eternity. Goodbye, my sweet y/n,” she said, slowly fading. As she completely disappeared, you noticed the teardrop blood stain, right where she stood. Proof that she hadn't been part of your imagination, but actually with you, throughout the years.
Opening your coffin, your mind shifted between Armand and Cassia. Love. You still didn't what it was, but perhaps he could be the one to show you — with Cassia gone, what did you truly have to lose?
“We're trying to assimilate and these pricks are blatantly doing this, acting like it's a play,” you could hear Demetrius grumble, as you all sat, attempting to watch the play. The play that you all quickly realized, was one, terrible, and two, their way of killing humans in front of other humans.
“Exactly, but these mortals are just as pathetic because they find it scary,” Jonah laughed, as the curtain closed. The young girl could still be heard screaming, her voice growing faint.
“I see him,” Marianne bumped your shoulder, making you look over. He sat in a booth, facing you, and as soon as you met his eyes, he smiled. You almost returned the gesture, but instead, you kept a straight face, making his face falter for a moment.
Turning back towards the stage, you listened to Jonah, Demetrius, and Alexander go on about how terrible the play was, going as far as making jokes about the actors. You could feel his gaze, but you ignored it, watching as humans began to leave the theater.
“That was almost two hours of my life wasted,” Alexander whined to Marianne.
“Look who decided to show his face,” the familiar man spat, standing in front of you all, his eyes on Alexander.
“He doesn't want any problems with you,” you told him, as his eyes sharply shifted to you.
“Their dear coven leader, you have all of them afraid of you, but perhaps it's because you haven't met your equal, or someone stronger,” he hissed at you, as you stood up.
“Is that supposed to be you?” you tilted your head, fire sparking from your fingers.
“Enough, Santiago,” Armand spoke up. The man rolled his eyes, but obeyed his orders, backing away from you. The action seemed to catch the attention of all of his coven members, as they stopped what they were doing to watch the scene unfold.
“Y/n is my soulmate, disrespect to her is disrespect to me, and it will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?” he raised his voice, and many of the members nodded in agreement. Santiago remained quiet when Armand grabbed him, choking him.
“Do you understand, Santiago?” he asked him, watching him struggle to nod, muttering an embarrassed, “Yes”.
“Good,” he shoved him away, his eyes moving to you.
“Come,” he held out his hand to you, watching as you slowly accepted it.
Looking down at your hands, his fingers intertwined with your own, you looked back at your coven. They smiled excitedly, Jonah giving you a thumbs up.
“I was surprised you came, what did you think of the play?”
“It was awful, but in a good way, I guess. I enjoyed the ending,” you said, laughing at his surprised expression.
“At least you're honest,” he sighed, his thumb brushing against your hand.
“I thought of you throughout the night, I hoped that you would show up,” he admitted, as he led you in the direction of the park.
“Yeah”
“All I wanted was to see your beautiful face again or smell your scent. I’ve never met any-
“Armand, this is difficult for me. I haven't experienced this kind of passion, for over half of my vampiric life. I didn't know how to love, or what it even means to,” you told him, but he only shook his head.
“Do you feel the same way, when you look at me? As if time stops, the compelling force to do or be anything your soulmate wants, as long as they will have you. The elation of just looking at your soulmate, because they look nothing but perfect in your eyes, do you feel this way too?” he asked, relief when you hesitantly nodded.
Pulling you closer, his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes. He seemed a bit hesitant, making you think of Cassia and Marianne. Their words replayed in your mind, you thought of the same saying from the previous night, what did you truly have to lose?
Standing on your toes, your lips pressed against his own, immediately, his arms were around your waist. Moaning into the kiss, you could feel the almost static connection between the two of you, just as your skin touched for a kiss.
“I-I want this, but I’m not ready,” you told him, feeling guilty, as you pulled away.
“There is no rush, as long as you remain close, we can take as much time as you need,” he said, holding your hand, and placing a kiss on it.
“And our covens?”
“They will learn to coexist, or they are free to leave,” he shrugged.
“I think we should get back, and maybe share this information with them,” you said.
“Anything you say,” Amrnand said, holding your hand, as he led you back to the theatre.
On your back way, you passed through the market, a young girl catching for attention. She stood next to a tent, holding a sign, in front of a crate of apples.
“Would you like an apple, mademoiselle?” she asked, reminding you of Cassia.
“I-no thank you,” you smiled, before looked back at you in confusion.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes, we should hurry back,” you said to him, as he continued walking, pulling you close, leading you back the the theatre.
An eternity, you had an eternity with your soulmate. You could see now, that you would enjoy his company, he was protective, considerate, and kind. An eternity of being with Armand, perhaps then you would could finally begin to learn what it meant, to be loved.
i had to end it here bc y'all know i would go on and on 😂
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now and then | b.b.
pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc
summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.
series masterlist
xi. eleven: every word you say
the sunlight did not reach her face. there was no sunlight in sight at all, aside from the most external door that shows a little hint of the visible spectrum. she stirred awake on the hard floor she slept, if she had any at all. she slowly sat up, finding the colonel on the adjacent cell, staring into nothingness.
they have yet to acknowledge each other's presence, trapped in their own battles inside. it was a surreal thing—to feel that it was both the end and the beginning. they have long let go of any hopes in receiving a lighter sentence, and that act is what made it possible for them to breathe despite the stifling feeling.
they have found freedom. losing all hope was freedom.
hence, the young silva raised her gaze to the ragged man across. his rank is not apparent on his current state, stripped off of dignity and proper legacy. she pulled him to the deepest ocean floor a man has never explored to.
"i am so sorry, raphael." raine broke the silence, feeling utterly apologetic for bringing the man with her in this fate.
"there is no need." he replied, closing his eyes as he leaned on the wall.
there really was no need. although his tone may have sounded frustrated, it was not directed to the girl. coming to think of it, he believes he would have done the same. he actually did, when he admitted to the suspicions just so she could be saved. the young silva, however, was hardheaded. a small chuckle left his lips as he looked at her in thought.
"you know, your father would be proud."
"oh, silence." raine rolled her eyes in jest, "i have not slept well with how much my eyes poured last night. do not make me cry again."
"but it is true."
"i know," she turned to him with weak eyes, "he asked me one time, if he was being too forceful in making me the viscountess or also the fact that he taught me things that a proper lady would not have preferred."
she laughed at the memory of her father teaching her how to hold a dagger at four, and her mother in utter worry as she caught them both.
"he was afraid he turned me into something he wanted instead of being someone I want to be."
the lady chuckled before continuing, "i told him I do not see myself embroidering at all. he laughed like crazy."
raphael weakly laughed at the story. by the mention of the girl's teaching experiences, a memory resurfaced in his mind as well.
"did you know that your father used to say you shoot like—i apologise for the term we use in the military amongst men—a virgin?"
despite being above average compared to the general public, her shooting really did not pass her father's standards. she could shoot, yes, but it would not have been enough for war. armand concluded that it was enough at the very least for self-defense.
raphael lifted one end of his lips, "i bet he would say otherwise now."
"that is because now i am not." she said with indifference, missing the way the man sat up from his leaning, turning to her fully.
"...wait, what—you mean...?" he asked curiously, his will returning to his voice in spite of their current situation.
raine looked at him and she found it interesting how curious he was at the topic. she let out a short giggle before slowly nodding. his mouth noticeably went ajar at that as he pried more.
"the bridgerton son?" she nodded once again, raphael leaning back down in surprise, shaking his head in disbelief, "your father is going to kill you."
"no need. the crown is doing it for him."
both laughed in chorus—how they could still jest in a situation like this is lost. perhaps, it was there saving grace. little joys do really count.
"i cannot fathom what you could possibly find so amusing in a place like this."
the queen's voice announced her arrival, her face grimacing in disgust at the place. the two greeted her with respect, standing from their position. she looked around, as if assessing their surroundings before settling her eyes to the girl.
her majesty sighed resignedly, "why ever did you have to shoot him?"
"he talked too much."
"that he did." she had no problem agreeing with that statement at all. the lord had been bothering her as well before about royal familial matters.
she clasped her hands, forming the words to say, "i have spoken to have a private execution for you both. it was granted. this is the least i could do, considering everyone has voted for a beheading instead of hanging."
raine nodded thankfully at that. she did not care much. either way, they would be dead. she inquired further, "the soldiers?"
"all free from the charges."
the two released a breath of relief. that was one of their main goals—for the rest of the troop to be able to go home and spend the following years with their families.
"thank you, aunt lottie. that is all i ask." she smiled warmly to the older woman.
"it will be in an hour." the queen noted, pertaining to the execution.
it must already be five in the afternoon already. the young silva did not know how time flew by so fast. she neared the girl, pushing a hand through the bars of her cell. raine held her hand as she continued.
"make death proud to take us."
raphael and raine's ears perked at that, their brows crossing as the queen took back her hand slowly, "how do you know of it?"
charlotte offered them a smile before she turned away, "your father had been a good company."
after the queen, major gilbert and the viscount bridgerton also stopped to visit them. the former relayed the gratefulness of the soldiers by the news of their freedom, while the latter updated her on how the queen is working on for a proper investigation against the said involved people in the treason with the help of the papers that was left to him. they did not take long, of course. the prison had that effect. it was very suffocating.
yet, her breath came back at the sight of the man in front of her.
"what are you doing here?" she said in concern, her lips quivering as she scrambled on her feet.
benedict reached to her, cupping her face with a tearful smile, "i told you. i will always be here."
she shut her eyes in shame of her current state, "you should not see me like this."
he chuckled with tears in his eyes, "like painfully beautiful?"
"like dying." she corrected in all honesty as he went silent, his heavy breathing speaking for himself.
his lips formed a thin line, features traced with painstaking gaze, "you are so unfair."
"i know," she admitted, knowing exactly what he meant, "i am so sorry."
he hushed her, his palms still on her cheeks as he soothed—both tracing the tear marks that intensified their emotions.
"forget about me. let go of this grief completely." she bleakly uttered, torment clear on her voice.
benedict immediately responded a multiple series of 'no' with an intense shaking of his head in disagreement. he would do anything to not forget her, both the joy and painful memories. he would cherish everything that she was present in. he would cling onto every word she utters.
"and in case you do forget about me," she continued, cupping his face with the utmost care, "i hope you remember by my touch alone.
he nodded fervently, "i love you."
he leaned his head to hers, their breaths exchanging as if he was used to the taste of pain on a dead friday night.
"i love you too."
they wanted to be together for as long as they could, and if that's not very long, well, then that's just how it is. and so, they held each other for the last time, coming to terms that if this life will be this cruel, he would spend the rest of his life praying that the next will not be.
he wanted to badly stay with her, to stop the time and prolong this moment. but, it seemed like he had angered the gods as a guard knocked his truncheon on the door, calling for him to exit for the fifteen-minute preparation before the execution.
━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━
no later, guards entered the cells, taking both prisoners with no austerity in their touch. it was so strange for them to the point that it was hard to swallow. they have seized and lead criminals of darkest crimes to their end, yet they find themselves wanting to break the two out.
a viscountess and a colonel, both still children in their own way.
they have never thought there comes a day they would dread their work, and the executioner would say the same. because just as they all arrived in the execution stage, the forty-five soldiers, four members of the bridgerton family, and the queen are in attendance. as she caught sight of them, raine offered a brief, forlorn smile. these people are the ones who she is most thankful of.
executions happen at a faster pace than the young silva thought. one moment they were walking, the next they were kneeling. the executioner bowed to the both of them when they arrived, now asking for forgiveness on the duty he must do in a while. loraine granted him that.
he stood back up, announcing clearly, "you have been granted to speak your final words."
she turned to take a look at raphael, the latter nodding as a sign for her to speak for them both. raine casted her head down in thinking of the words she must say for the last time. she looked back at them all, to no one in particular, and dared to raise her eyes to her terrible fate as she began.
"when a crime goes unpunished, the world is unbalanced. when the wrong is unavenged, the heavens look down on us in shame. we too must die for this circle of vengeance to be closed. we will leave this record of our courage so the world will know who we were and what we did."
as she ended, they both tied the cloth firmly to cover their eyes. at the absence of sight, fear started to creep in. she could hear the executioner stepping away from her and to the colonel first. he declared with resolve, a means of comforting the two souls.
"death is proud to take you."
raine exhaled peacefully at that. it was a reply to their previous convictions—a way of reassuring they have done well.
and so, she did not panic, even when the sound of a drop on the floor filled the place.
raphael had been a great friend, soldier, and a person. the silva would not mind having to fight beside him once again.
the room stayed silent, with no other noise but the small whimpers of the audience. however, it was immediately overshadowed by the sound of footsteps, nearing her one step at a time. she guessed this must be it.
loraine's mind became blank. she hurried herself to think of memories—those that she would love to relive. she had a strange belief that it would not be as painful if she was feeling happy. but, it was also strangely hard to be one in the moment. all she could think of was that maybe, dying is the best option for her in this life. there was no home for her anymore.
and when she greets death, she hoped it is gentle. she hoped it is like going home. she believed a great happiness awaited her somewhere.
and for this reason, she remained calm as the axe hit her neck.
the audience found themselves letting go of the prolonged silence, breaking out to their cries. however, one person did not have any tear or voice left in himself anymore as he stared at the trail of blood that was starting to accumulate and flow away from the body.
indeed, a lot can happen in a day.
he was annoyed by her in one, taken by her in one, and loved her in one. he is grieving for her in one, and he will long for her in one.
and so, he was left with nothing but to face reality—realising that a very frightening thought is now shadowing him intimately.
when tomorrow depends to a person, what should one do? when that person is lost, does that mean tomorrow is too?
love was there. it may have not changed anything. it may have not saved anyone. but, it still matters that the love was there.
because, raine did not need to be saved. she needed to be found and appreciated for who exactly she was. her father has taught her that this world was only a preparation for the next, that all they can ask is to leave it having loved and being loved.
and benedict, until the very last moment, made that known to her and everyone else. she was found. she was appreciated. she was loved.
all by him.
taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @myo11 @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka
#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x oc#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton
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accidentally deleted this ask but for the anon asking what my gripes were with iwtv’s finale / this season:
look i love this show. ive never read the books* and i thoroughly enjoyed the one time i watched the movie mostly bc of tom cruise and kirsten dunst acting circles around bradd pitt. the show to me really elevates the material, it has phenomenal writing, the acting is obviously stellar, i think it does a great job at being that dark gothic romance that is both deeply tragic and fucked up and funny etc etc.
a key element of the adaptation is evidently that they have recontexualised the characters in ways that both add depth and nuance to them. when we meet him louis is a black gay man in a deeply racist and homophobic setting who hardens himself to survive and rise above as much as he can. claudia is a young black woman who has always faced societal violence and neglect because of this. armand’s whole arc as an exploited and fetishised child whose trauma has become his identity is also encased in colonial violence. i’m not from the communities they are so i can’t speak for everyone, but i think for the most part the show is pretty good at having these changes enrich the show and acknowledge what an impact this has on dynamics and the characters. s1 explicitly addresses how lestat handwaves away the racism louis experiences as something he can just overcome because he’s a vampire now, how lestat himself plays into racist imbalances of power in his patriarchal relationship in their home esp wrt claudia, how he goes to capture claudia on the train being portrayed to echo a slave-catcher, etc. s2 has the trial obviously set up like a lynching (claudia says so much herself), with lestat’s testimony framing the two black people he abused as the aggressors and himself as the victim, and even when lestat is genuinely apologetic and remorseful it’s because he’s allowed his tears and victimhood while louis and claudia are not. all this to say there is obviously lot of conscious thought that goes into the way the characters’ races feed into the show and the story and it oftentimes is very effective, as well as aware of audience perceptions of the characters and how the irl audience’s own biases might need addressing.
unfortunately for me there are two aspects of s2 that i feel are kind of outliers in this regard, and not in a way that makes sense/feels intentionally uncomfortable to me. 1) is madeline’s backstory, and 2) is the change of having armand actually have been plotting to murder both louis and claudia at the trial, and lestat have been the one to save louis.
1) to me is just really… weird. i feel like i know why they wrote her that way. it makes madeline a ~morally grey character~ by default so she fits in with the rest of the cast, and there is an element to the very real misogynistic vitriol and violence post-ww2 directed at french women even falsely accused of having slept with the invading nazi occupiers that feels very in line with the things the show likes to examine and point to as examples of plain old human barbarism and othering. but the way they present it in the show, unquestioned, not as a dubious survival tactic or a multi-faceted situation but an actual love story that madeline has no remorse for, is very off-putting to me. madeline is not louis and claudia who ignore the atrocities of the war because those are human affairs and they are no longer human but supernatural monsters. madeline is a normal person whose peers- jewish people, queer people (surely her own community), political dissidents of any kind- have been put down like dogs throughout the occupation, sent to prison camps at best and death camps at worst, and she never even has a line of dialogue addressing conflicting feelings about this? no one ever challenges her on it? the people painting nazi symbols on her shop are consistently framed as villainous? it just feels weird to me that claudia’s “weird white lady” has this saccharine romance with her, a black woman, without the show ever exploring any friction in that dynamic given madeline’s apparently uncomplicated nazi romance. madeline being a femme tondue is a great idea, but the execution leaves to be desired imo.
2) … oh boy. i feel like i’m wading into discourse here bc i’ve seen really confrontational takes on this, esp a lot of “responses to” people who didn’t like this change, where this is presented as those people being dumb babies who are blinded by their liking of armand and don’t Understand The Show. im sure there are those of which this is true (and ppl have explained better than me how antiblackness feeds into everyone jumping into ship wars and defense of louis’ abusive partners in general) but also it feels very reductive of some valid questions people have. people can argue the change is consistent with armand’s characterisation, which, sure, even though i feel like it feels a little flimsy / contradictory for armand to finally Choose The Coven and allow for them to execute louis but then go feed him blood and allow him to revenge-kill all of them immediately afterwards, etc. i don’t mind characters being More Evil on the Evil Vampire show.
my bigger question is why this change was made. bc my sense is that the change is less about armand than it is about lestat, and specifically setting the stage for the loustat reconciliation, and i do not love that. it’s one thing to make it so armand wanted to kill louis too, just for the extra drama of daniel’s reveal and scale of his betrayal, another push for louis to leave. it’s another to make it so lestat was the heroic captive who not only was forced to be there by armand as per but also bravely exerted the limits of his strength to save louis from execution and then nobly didn’t tell him about this. these are both monstrous vampires who have abused and betrayed louis in their own ways (armand has already orchestrated claudia’s death and kept louis in a purportedly protective mind prison for decades! that’s betrayal enough! you could even have armand originally want to kill louis too and then change his mind!), so why at this juncture choose to have lestat save louis in a move that was originally armand’s? just from the way the audience (fandom and casual watchers) is reacting it makes me wonder if the showrunners were just oblivious to how much this worsens people’s takes of armand (the brown man) being the “real villain” and lestat (the white man) being the redeemed self-sacrificing figure. i’m sure people will say this is placing too much weight on race blah blah blah but it was so jarring to me and the change in viewer attitudes so immediate that it left a really bad taste in my mouth.
inb4 the inevitable: i actually really liked the loustat reunion in the finale! i don’t hate loustat! i like all of the dynamics between all of the characters, albeit my favourite louis ship is louis x therapy (an obvious inference from my favourite character being daniel lmao). this is not a change that i hate because i’m a bitter lestat hater. i have no issue with armand doing bad things, episode 5 was my favourite episode! i just think this particular choice was weird, and felt kind of thoughtless in the service of speedrunning a lestat hero role in advance of his season.
i have other less tangential complaints but overall i think this is a great season of television. these are just two points that stood out to me as being handled with less grace than i expect of iwtv.
*i just started reading the first book today on the airplane so. we’ll see how that goes. book loustat is so funny compared to the show. book 1 louis hates his ass 😭
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goes crazy about the fact that the lestat we've known so far has been colored by betrayal the whole time. louis thought armand was his savior. he turned him in sure but he broke him back out. he spared him, even though he couldn't save claudia. he could not prevent it. he saved louis at the trial and he saved him from burning himself alive and he keeps louis' best interests in mind even when he does not. so lestat has been cast as the villain since the beginning. he condemned claudia and madeline to death, he was going to do the same to louis. he had nothing to say for himself when confronted. he was the deadbeat asshole ex and armand was his prince charming.
but of course that was all lies. it was implanted memories, brainwashing. it was misunderstandings, only starting to crack open after daniel's sharp and clever prodding. after hours and hours of research, of compiling evidence, of rehashing tiny details. only then does louis see, 77 years based on a lie.
and then, finally, when louis can begin to live, when he breathes, free from the mountains of fabricated evidence weighing on his chest, he finds lestat again. and lestat is.. real. he's human and he's hurting and he's apologetic and understanding. he commiserates with louis and acknowledges the part he played in it all and he is free too. from the peephole of louis' memory we the audience have been viewing him from. he is no longer a cardboard cutout, we see him in his entirety- his realistic, imperfect, mundane entirety. and at the same time louis is freeing himself from the same kind of mischaracterization, done by his own misshapen memories. and they are equals.
#both in the hurricane holding onto each other rather than one swinging the other around#goes crazyyyy#iwtv#iwtv s2#iwtv 2022#iwtv amc
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Pirate AU
VamPride ~ Day 14: Pirate AU
Chapter 2 -
“What are your plans for me now?” Louisa hates to ask but she would rather know in advance, than have whatever it is thrust upon her with no warning.
“It should be obvious, no?” Armande remains stood beside the bed, looking down at her. Her expression has gone from pleased to one of mild confusion. “You will need to face Lestat and give her your answer to her proposition. I take it you’ve given it some thought.”
The nauseous feeling rises back up in Louisa, forcing her to try and suppress the urge to reject what she’s just drunk. “So soon? I thought I would have more time.” Her voice has a small tremor to it, barely noticeable yet still picked up on by Armande.
Armande lets out a soft sigh. “If it were up to me, then you would but unfortunately that’s not how things work around here. Either you decide now, or the choice will be made for you.” She looks almost apologetic.
A lump forms in Louisa’s throat but she pushes it back down. “How am I to know she will keep to her word? Surely you can understand that it makes me sceptical to think that just because I say one thing, she won’t do the complete opposite.” She isn’t sure why she’s even asking this. Armande could just as easily lie to her as she thinks the captain will.
“I do understand. But you have to believe me when I tell you that I have known Lestat for quite some time now. And I know that you haven’t been given an easy decision but she is a woman of her word. Whatever you say will happen. It’s up to you to make the right choice.”
“The right choice.” Louisa scoffs. “As if there is a right choice. I choose myself and my family die for my selfishness. I choose them and I remain here, a prisoner. There is no right choice.”
[Treasured Finds A03]
@valenfangs
#valenfangs#vampride#pirate au#louis de pointe du lac#lestat de lioncourt#armand#loumandstat#rule 63#r63#vampire chronicles#tvc#vc fic#vc fanfic#my vc fics#my vampire chronicles#vc events
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"well they're all monsters/do awful things to each other so it's wrong to call x an abuser" is obviously demonstrably apologetic of abuse when we're talking about lestat and armand but tbh it's still an impotent and minimizing argument when used to "defend" louis against criticism for his alleged crimes. like any argument that puts louis' defensive/reactive aggression on the same level as lestat and armand's chronic abuse of him still serves to minimize the reality that louis is their victim. perfect victims are a myth, mutual abuse is a myth, reactive abuse does not describe a victim who lashes out it describes a dynamic where an abuse victim is punished for reacting to abuse
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claudia joining the theatre and enjoying coven life in the trailer does not make it sound like armand is immediately threatening her like he does in the books nor does she seem to feel like she is in danger from the coven so all that leads me to wonder why armand has to kill her in the show? i mean in this scenario everyone's living their best life - louis gets to be with armand, claudia gets the vampire community she always wanted (+ eventually madeleine as her own companion) and there's not the same obligation louis has towards her in the way he did in the books so what gives. is armand pissed that claudia is in his life at all? is she trying to convince him to leave with her at some point? WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE IN THIS VERSION
anyways i was thinking maybe the scene in the rain is louis saying goodbye and deciding to leave with c&m??? like armand looks so sad and longing and louis apologetic. maybe he has to kill c&m to keep louis or something cause otherwise WHYYYYY
#iwtv#also this scene is clearly 1940s so it’s nowhere near time for their real break up#so what gives!
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“Nibbles”
Armand x Daniel Molloy
General Audiences
Warnings: None. This is pure fluff.
Disclaimer: I don't own the vampire Armand or Daniel Molloy, nor will I be accepting tips for this story or any story set in Anne Rice's Immortal Universe. Jackie and Boss the cat however, are all mine.
MY MASTERLIST
"No, Armand is not some barely legal gold-digging twink. First of all he has way more money than me, trust me. Second, he is older than he looks. And third, he is… very mature for his age. I'm honestly appalled your sister used that kind of language to refer to him" Yeah, Daniel Molloy was perfectly aware he was the pot calling the kettle back. But this wasn't him, this was his daughter, she was supposed to be better. Then again, before last Saturday when she had showed up unannounced following the news he had a terminal disease, Ashley and he hadn't spoken in, well, years, so maybe he was not familiar with her vocabulary anymore.
"Don't take it to heart, you know how she gets" through the speaker, his younger daughter's voice sounded almost apologetic, "she just worries, it's not her fault she lacks the emotional tools to express it in any other way than being a bitch about it"
Daniel snorted, almost dropping the cell phone he was precariously holding between his shoulder and ear, as he tried to hold all his groceries with one hand while feeling around in his pockets for his key, frowning a little.
That was weird. Normally, Armand would open the door for him before he even arrived, with all the excitement and impatience of a kid that just couldn't wait anymore. Maybe he had gone out to hunt for a bit? But no, he could hear the blender going off inside. Oh, no, what was his little monster doing now? It certainly couldn't be anything good if he were so concentrated as not to notice Daniel's arrival.
"Jackie? Let me just put you on hold for a bit" He fumbled a little but managed to fit the key into the lock without letting anything fall.
"Dad, I think you just put me on speaker, I can hear-"
But Daniel was not listening to his daughter anymore. No, he was too busy gawking at the image of his five-hundred-year-old demonic lover standing in the middle of his messy kitchen, face the perfect huge-eyed, mask of innocence, holding a glass with some green concoction in one hand and on the other…
"Armand… what the hell is that??"
“Your kale smoothie” he deadpanned. To Daniel's surprise, at the other side of the line, Jackie snorted loudly.
“Oh my god! Dad, does he have an ostrich? Tell me he doesn't have an ostrich!”
“What? No! Why would he have an- You know what, let me just call you back”
Daniel didn't wait for a reply but judging by the way Jackie was still laughing as he ended the call, he didn't think she minded it too much.
“She didn't. She actually finds the situation quite funny.” Armand replied out loud to the thoughts in his head in that insufferably yet endearing way of his. Daniel hated to admit he had missed it. “Apparently, I inadvertently emulated a famous internet meme”
Nice try at changing the subject.
“Armand, why are you holding a kitten?" His eyes flickered briefly to the microwave, the idea discarded almost as soon as it took form. Armand had gotten over microwave ovens in the 80s.
Armand scoffed,
"Of course I'm not going to microwave this cat. Cats are not vermin, cats are intelligent creatures with inner lives more complex than some humans. And this one is mine now"
"Yours" Daniel's tone and mind were blank, in shock.
"Well, ours" Armand corrected himself. And that small four-letter word should not have had that effect on him, making his old, weary heart skip a beat. He wasn't a lovestruck teenager for fucks sake, and Armand and him had owned things together before -a whole fucking island came to mind- but this felt different, so normal, so fucking domestic , Daniel had no idea what to do with it.
Especially when Armands carefully blank expression betrayed how important this was to him. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to tell, but Daniel was an expert on all things Armand, and knew the tighter the lid the vampire kept on his expressions, the more significant the issue was to him.
And hell only knew why, but the scruffy little thing on Armands hand was important .
Daniel bit back a sigh. He almost wished he hadn't hung up on his daughter, Jackie used to pull that kind of shit a lot when she was a child, always bringing home strays to foster with the hope that maybe one day, she would be allowed to keep one. Maybe if he got her and Armand to bond, the broken pieces that remained of what had once been his family would get out of his case over dating someone -apparently- over forty years his junior. At the very least, he would get another person in his corner. Two against two was a lot fairer than three against one.
“Where did you even get the thing?” he asked, his mind already going over the familiar steps of the dance he never thought he would be doing again, of vets appointments and vaccination and kittens formula and round-the-clock bottle feedings.
“In an alley downtown, he was cold and alone. He is old enough to eat meat, just too young to hunt on his own”
Was that what Armand had been doing in that alley? Hunting? Daniel quickly decided he didn't actually want to know. Choosing to focus on the kitten instead, he gestured for Armand to hand it over.
Christ . The poor thing felt practically weightless, all skin and bones, so fragile even in his old, unsteady hands. Exactly how long had he been out there, cold and alone as Armand had put it, searching in vain for food, for shelter, for warmth? And what strange whim had impulsed Armand to bring him home with him instead of simply breaking his tiny neck, put him out of his misery right then and there?
But it was right there, wasn't it? Right on his dirty little face, striking against the creature's black fur. The cat's eyes were the bluest of blues. Almost violet .
Daniel's own stunned eyes met Armands normally stoic, inscrutable ones. What was what had flickered in them just now? That quick flash of emotion there and gone in less than a second. Affection? Guilt? Had he really spared that pitiful kitten just because it had Daniel's eyes?
Armand’s throat bobbed, an all too unnecessary thing for a vampire’s throat to do. Particularly one’s as uninterested in performing humanity as Armand’s.
“I didn't want him to die” He conceded, as if it pained him to do so. Daniel stifled the smile threatening to form at the half a century serial killer’s petulant tone.
“Alright then” for once, he would refrain to pry further and leave it alone, “Have you named him yet?”
Armand’s whole stance seemed to relax, all the defensiveness there leaving at once.
“I was hoping you would want to do the honors” It wasn’t a question but it came out as one. Daniel didn’t fight the impulse to smile, or to place a kiss on that pouty mouth then. He didn’t want to. Armand, the little shit, bit into his lower lip, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to sting just the way Daniel secretly enjoyed.
A different, sharper sting on his thumb informed him their new roommate didn’t appreciate being crushed between their bodies, his little huff sounding a lot like Armand’s annoyed sigh at the loss of Daniel’s lip.
“Ow! You are just as much of a tyrant as your owner, aren’t you?” A tiny but very sharp set of fangs sunk into his finger as reply “And just as bitey. I have the perfect name for you…”
Armand rolled his eyes, no doubt having plucked the admittedly silly name from Daniel's mind, but the way the corner of his lips curved up told him he approved it. Or maybe, he was filled by the same giddiness as him. And maybe it was unbecoming of a man his age, like his oldest had told him. And maybe there was nothing normal about them or their relationship, and maybe nobody, vampire or human, would ever understand it, but at that moment, Daniel Molloy realized this time, maybe they could do domestic. Maybe this time it could be different.
Maybe this time, they wouldn't crash and burn.
#the vampire armand#daniel molloy#armand x daniel molloy#amc interview with the vampire#IWTV#interview with the vampire#anne rice's immortal universe fan fiction#fanfic#assad zaman#eric bosgonian
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I make myself laugh with dumb wholesome shit like Loustat plus Armand/Daniel playing a game on a plane to pass the time of their way to Nola.
This is a rough draft and not complete fyi. Don’t judge me! 😢
………..
“Daniel, Armand is cheating,” Lestat angrily insists. “Look at him! It is impossible to have every answer right!”
“I am not cheating,” Armand replies in a bored tone. “You are, as you have always been, a sore loser.”
“Louis, do you see how he treats me?” Lestat asks helplessly. “Listen to him! He called your future husband a sore loser!”
“Armand, please,” Louis begs, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. “You are being difficult here. We all know you do not know pop culture as well as you are trying to make us believe.”
Armand flashes a glare at Lestat. “You see what you do, you brat? You turn Louis against me because you cannot handle losing! You are a sad, old creature!”
“Old?” Lestat shouts indignantly. “Old? You are the oldest of us here!”
“Jesus Christ, just shut up,” Daniel drawls and stands. “This flight has been hell from the beginning and you are both making it so much worse. I’m going to bed.”
The three seated vampires watch as Daniel disappears into the back of their private jet, which Lestat has had custom made to keep them all safe and comfortable. They listen as Daniel slams one of the light tight rooms shut.
Armand’s glare disappears, replaced with a very minimal frown. “Now you have upset Daniel,” he murmurs. “He has locked the door.”
“That’s too bad,” Lestat says, smirking. “You’ll have to sleep alone then.”
“If you keep this up, you’ll be sleeping alone too,” Louis warns him.
Lestat visibly deflates at such a warning, and it is finally quiet between the three of them. Louis is not surprised when in seconds Lestat is crawling over to sit at his side and press an apologetic kiss to his cheek.
Armand rolls his eyes. “Wait until I have gone,” he hisses in displeasure. “I’ve no need to watch you seduce Louis.”
Lestat doesn’t remove himself from Louis’ cheek, and Louis, because he doesn’t mind as much as he assumes Armand thinks that he should, gently pats at the back of Lestat’s head. In this moment, he likens Lestat to a dog, and it makes him laugh as he mentally imagines his husband to be that way.
Armand audibly scoffs his displeasure and rises as well, disappearing through the same door that Daniel has minutes prior. He can soon be heard gently knocking on Daniel’s door.
“Do you think he will open it?” Lestat whispers against Louis’ cheek. “I hope he won’t.”
“Lestat, stop,” Louis demands as he finally creates space between them again. He gives the older vampire a very disapproving look. “You two are better than this. You have been better than this.”
“He knows what buttons to push,” Lestat complains, then crosses his arms over his chest. “And I wasn’t wrong, was I? He was cheating. He was cheating at the game and he is the oldest of us all.”
Louis sighs loudly, tiredly. He knows this is an eternal battle he cannot win. “You are both so stubborn,” Louis says. “Just let it be? For me? And for the sake of this trip? Do you remember why we are even going on it?”
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Something I can't stop thinking about when it comes to book vs show is that in the book Louis doesn't really blame Armand for Claudia's death, sure he killed her but he was just upholding The Rules™
The Rules™ say a vampire shouldn't kill their maker and it was Claudia's idea to kill Lestat
The Rules™ say children shouldn't be made vampires and Claudia was made very young
Therefore according to The Rules™ Claudia should die
Armand was just following The Rules™ (and the specific kind of trauma he has doesn't allow him to even consider bending The Rules™ even for someone who wasn't aware of them, if anything Claudia's ignorance is another reason she has to die, someone who is ignorant of The Rules ™ will sure put them all in danger)
So Book Louis doesn't hate Armand, but he does hate The Rules™
The Rules™ cost him Claudia, The Rules™ are awful and unjust, The Rules™ just suck
So when he finds Daniel and the opportunity to tell his story, her story, to have it all published, that's just the opportunity he was looking for to get back at The Rules™
He can't bring Claudia back to life but he can expose all vampires and The Rules™ which say he shouldn't can go to hell
So it's a bit disappointing to me that the show has decided to remove those layers of complexity and made Louis blame Armand instead and simplified Armand's reasons to kill Claudia too
(Also what are Louis reasons to tell the story in this version?)
I was expecting Armand to double down on his reasoning for doing it (she had to die, I was just the executor not the reason she had to die, she wasn't going to make it anyway, all vampires made that young go crazy and are a risk that can expose us all, she would have killed herself soon anyway, she broke The Rules™) I thought that was what Armand's "I could not prevent it" was getting to and was disappointed when he showed to be apologetic to Louis instead
ooooo yes this is so interesting I totally agree with this. In the books Armand and Louis make it very clear that Claudia’s death was the consequence of an abusive fucked up institution (vampirism) that Louis and Armand r bound to + victims of, and the show def misses that. What I like about the vampire chronicles is how vampirism is portrayed as this abusive cycle in a way that binds all characters to the same loops of inescapable abusive patterns, and what’s interesting about that also is how all the characters r aware of this and forgiving of each other in ways humans would never be bcus they know “vampirism just does that to u”. It’s such a unique premise, and it’s unfortunate that the show seems uninterested i. exploring the “vampire culture” aspects of Anne rice world that I’ve always really loved. Sometimes I get the impression that they’d rather make the characters have more generic human responses to their problems so that it can appeal to a broader audience (which is disappointing for a tv show adaptation of a book series that is iconic for how it’s shaped what being a vampire is in pop culture)
#armand#tvc#the vampire chronicles#iwtv#interview with the vampire#vampire chronicles#amc iwtv#louis de pointe du lac#Claudia iwtv
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Dates like births, deaths and weddings should be available to fact check by Daniel esp for a family as wealthy as the dpdl’s so if they just never mention it again then it’s prob just writing mistakes by the show 😂
not to sound like im doing apologetics but in universe explanations 4 wat da showrunners didnt say its about memory n all that but also grace couldve took the family docs up north when she left the state& and irl docs were lost as a result of varying natural disasters[esp katrina] and jim crow historical censors so that could be why dan dont got access? either way all we need to know lestat was old & armand is OLD AS FUCK!!!! & louis was a 30 something year old minor. louis saying claudias pushing 33 and lestat going thats nothing in our yeahnsxjjddjdjjdjddje
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Hannibal kissed her softly. “I am sure our pack mates will bring us food but I cannot promise I won’t growl at them.”
Louis was unsure about swallowing, he pulled off Lestat and instead stroked him quickly. Je looked apologetically at his mate.
Armand smiled softly at Daniel. “This feels good” he whispered. “I’ve never been touched like this.”
The Farm
Hannibal Lecter was the chief doctor and surgeon on an omega farm. His duties included keeping the Omega healthy and delivering the children that were always being born.
He had a highly efficient team that worked to do their best to look after the omega on the farm. He knew the owner cared very little besides what money they could make off the omega, so Hannibal did what he could.
He was in his office reviewing the tasks that needed doing that day. He was always repairing the damage that alphas inflicted on the omega, patching them up to send them back for sex.
He looked up as his office door opened.
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Excerpt from a fanfic featuring our favourite blond menace Lestat:
This scene features Lestat X OCfemalecharacter, and the entire fanfiction is leading to Louis’s and Lestat’s reunion in an AU New York - but also to a confrontation between a jealous Lestat and an angry Armand...
I smile to myself and try another sip of the absinthe. It's very good. Still, I can already feel the first malicious press of intoxication in the back of my skull.
"You have to be careful with that stuff," a drawling voice suddenly says. "I can't tell you how many times I've ended up in strange places after only a glass or two."
I look up and see the strange, beautiful man who had been staring at me from the bar. He has shed the intense gaze, and instead looks at me with nothing but an open smile and a charming glint in his eyes. Any feeling of unease I had before slips away, and I find myself interested in him, this handsome stranger, to whom the bar's emulated time period clings like a lover. He is still holding his own glass, which is half-empty, slightly raised to underline his point.
I smile. "That's sound advice. I'm not sure it's fun advice."
He laughs, a delightful sound, slightly higher-pitched than his own voice which is low and smooth like rich mascarpone. The sound of it keeps my own smile firmly fixed to my face.
"That's true," he admits, and nods at the empty seat in my booth. "May I? We share a drink order, after all - perhaps we should drink together."
"Go right ahead."
He supply slides into the booth almost noiselessly and touches his glass to mine. "What are we drinking to?"
"Judging by our surroundings? Drunk, bedazzled youth, and debauchery."
Again that laugh. I can't help but echo it. "Is there anything better to drink to? To debauchery."
The way he looks at me as our glasses touch again is dripping with intent. I cast my eyes down momentarily with the force of it. I can't help but remember the way he was staring before, the unnerving vice-grip of his gaze, and remind myself that he is still a stranger, someone I don't know and whose actions I can't guess.
"What brings you to this bar?" he asks.
I like his voice, I realise. It reverberates through my body, the low softness, the seductive tones. There is an accent there - French, I think, based on the way the R rolls stuck in the back of his throat, the delicacy of the W, the way his words tend to blur together sometimes.
"I know the owner. She's a friend of mine. You?"
He pauses before answering, looking around him briefly. For a moment, I see something melancholy flashing in his eyes. "It reminds me of a happy period in my life," he says softly, almost as if he doesn't intend for me to hear him. "The beauty, the easiness of the Then, especially in contrast with the harshness of the Now."
I don't know what to respond to it, but he doesn't seem to expect a response. Instead, he shakes his head, shaking the short instance of sad nostalgia, and smiles at me again. His teeth are so straight and white, they shine like predator's canines in the dim bar lights. I shiver for reasons I don't understand and don't wish to understand.
"I never caught your name," he says.
"I never gave it. It's Elizabeth."
"Pleasure to meet you," he says. I feel a slight blush rising to my cheeks at the way he says 'pleasure' - like the word is meant for us, the two of us, and no one else in the world at all. "My name is Lestat."
"Lestat?"
"It's French."
"I thought I heard an accent."
He shrugs apologetically. "No matter how long I've been speaking English, it follows me like a shadow."
"It's okay. I like it."
His smile deepens. "You do, do you?" A slight lean forward, a quickening of my breath - out of excitement, or that same inexplicable sense of fear, of danger? "I'm glad to hear it, chérie."
His eyes, the little upturn of his lips, ask me a hundred silent questions: Is there anything else you like about me? What is it? Anything you want to see, to touch - anything you wish to run your hands over, to kiss, to feel against your skin? I find myself biting my bottom lip nervously, a habit I've never had before.
Then he leans back into his seat and the spell is over. I breathe deeply, feeling very much as if I just spent a minute under water, struggling to form a coherent thought.
"So, what is it you do, Elizabeth? Apart from knowing bar owners."
I laugh. "I'm... I'm an artist."
He raises one eyebrow. "Why the hesitation?"
"I'm not a very successful one," I admit.
"Success isn't measured by something as crude as monetary gain. Are you talented?"
"Am I..." I hesitate. "I'm not sure if I'm the right person to say. It's all very subjective-"
"You're selling yourself short, I can tell," he interrupts. "Never do that. Never doubt what you know. Are you talented?"
I smile, embarrassed. "Yes."
"Very good." He smiles brilliantly. "Do you have any examples?"
"I have pictures on my phone."
He doesn't hesitate before covering my hand with his. It's trapped beneath his long, elegant fingers, which gently press against my own with no threat, but the promise of a surer touch, a warmer one. Normally, I would have pulled my hand away, but I leave it there, slightly ashamed at my excitement to be touched by him, however briefly.
"May I see them?" he asks in soft, hushed tones, as if he is asking me to unbutton a piece of clothing.
#interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire louis#interview with the vampire fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#iwtv#iwtv fanfic#iwtv fanfiction#iwtv lestat#iwtv louis#iwtv armand#armand#iwtv au#au#fanfic recommendation#smut#lestat smut#anne rice#interview with the vampire smut#archive of our own#ao3#ao3 fanfic#samual l jackson#jacob anderson#daniel molloy#armand x louis#louis x lestat
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Oh, Armand is a crazy bastard, lol. That scene when he rips that guy’s scalp off, holllly, haha. Don’t mess with this dude.
Okay, but, just the first chapter in to “The Vampire Armand”, but already, I’m really loving it, and particularly I find the stark difference between Armand and Lestat super fascinating. These two are like polar opposites to one another, which I already knew, but seeing the tonal difference in their respective narratives drives it home all the more.
Lestat very much comes across as an at times overactive child, lol. He’s very energetic and hyper and make big, grand and emotional declarations. And Armand is so different. There’s a very somber, reserved and isolated feel to his narrative thus far, and also what strikes me is how almost fragmented and wandering his thoughts are. He jumps from thought to thought and feeling to feeling from one instant to the next. With Armand, there’s very much a sense of a lack of foundation in who he is, or what he’s supposed to be, and your heart has to break for him on that count alone.
Like this part, when he’s talking to David (who, I’m starting to see why people find this dude so annoying, like, bro, leave Armand alone!)
Armand is annoyed at David’s intrusion, and he goes on a bit of a tangent about him
“A handsome gent,” I went on, “the color of caramel, moving with such catlike ease and gilded glances that he makes me think of all things once delectable, and now a potpourri of scent: cinnamon, clove, mild peppers and other spices golden, brown or red, whose fragrances can spike my brain and plunge me into erotic yearnings that live now, more than ever, to play themselves out. His skin must smell like cashew nuts and thick almond creams. It does.”
He laughed. “I get your point.”
I had shocked myself. I was wretched for a moment. “I’m not sure I get myself,” I said apologetically.”
Like, damn, poor Armand. He’s an emotional mess, you can tell. It feels like he just sort of loses control of his emotions at times, and then he’s ashamed of himself for it.
His whole interaction with Marius is also a killer in terms of making you feel for Armand. When he says to him, after Marius asks him to come stay with him in his house
“Master, I love you, but now I must be alone,” I said. “You don’t need me now, do you, Sir? How can you? You never really did.” Instantly I regretted it. The words, not the tone, were impudent. And our minds being so divided by intimate blood, I was afraid he’s misunderstand.”
I mean, this kind of encapsulates the whole tragedy between Armand and Marius, and Armand’s entire sense of abandonment too. He doesn’t mean it as an accusation against Marius. He just means it as a statement of fact. He thinks Marius never needed him. He probably feels that way about everyone he’s ever loved. Lestat of course being the prime example. And it’s really fascinating too, because as different as Lestat and Armand are, they both suffer from the same fear. This idea in their heads that they aren’t lovable, that they aren’t worthy of love, that others will always leave them, that those they love will never return that love. They come at the insecurity in two totally different ways. Lestat tries to hold on to what love he finds harder, he tries to make it work, sometimes to force it, and Armand is much more resigning, almost more wilting in the face of it. That’s the difference in their personalities. Lestat is someone who refuses to yield or accept defeat. Armand is someone who accepts and takes it. But there’s this deep similarity between them too, beneath their personalities. The same fears and insecurities and self-loathing drives them, I think, which also in a way explains why the two of them are always so at odds with each other, why they can’t ever really, truly be together. For as different as they are, they’re also very strangely similar. They maybe see too much of themselves in each other, and it scares them.
This exchange between Armand and David also speaks volumes about Armand’s mindset regarding Lestat, and how it plays on his own insecurities. He says
“Oh, I see, so that excuses it, that you followed me here?”
“I didn’t follow you, Armand,” he said. “I live here.”
“Ah, I’m sorry then,” I admitted. “I hadn’t known. I suppose I’m glad of it. You guard him. He’s never alone.” I meant Lestat of course.
From Armand’s perspective, Lestat is always surrounded by people (and, well, yeah, Lestat is. That light in him which Nicki talked about once, that draws people to him.). But you can see how it hurts Armand, because for him it must seem the opposite, that there’s a darkness in him which repels. Just being near Lestat, seeing the way people are drawn to him, has to work at his insecurities in the worst way. Again, it sheds light then on why he and Lestat are so often at odds. It doesn’t help when David says to him
“Everyone’s afraid of you,”
But then there’s the contradiction to that, the way people lust after him, and this is why people are complaining too about Armand’s casting in the show, because it’s basically vital to the character that he have the appearance of a boy. His entire psychology is wrapped up in the fact that he was a victim of sexual abuse as a child, that he was turned when he was only 17 and still had the appearance of a child.
This exchange between him and David
“You make me hungry,” I whispered. “Not for you but for one who is doomed and yet alive. I want to hunt. Stop it. Why do you touch me? Why be so gentle?”
“Everyone wants you,” he said.
“Oh, I know. Everyone would ravage a guilty cunning child! Everyone would have a laughing boy who knows his way around the block. Kids make better food than women, and girls are all too much like women, but young boys? They’re not like men, are they?”
“Don’t mock me. I meant I wanted only to touch you, to feel how soft you are, how eternally young.”
“Oh, that’s me, eternally young,” I said. “You speak nonsense words for one so pretty yourself.”
Again, I find this really revealing, also about Armand’s relationship with Lestat in particular. Everyone wants Armand, David tells him, and Armand is aware it’s largely because of the allure of his young, boyish appearance. There’s an inherent perversion, then, in most people’s attraction to Armand. They want him because he’s like a child. That in itself is such a major tragedy. There’s exceptions of course. Like Daniel and Louis, both of whom are lovers of Armand’s, and who’s love is genuine. But then there’s Lestat, who’s the only one who’s never lusted after Armand that way, and that kind of tells you a lot about who Lestat is too. He loves Armand, but he doesn’t want him in the same way everyone else seems to. He doesn’t lust after him. You can see in its own way why this would serve to mess with Armand’s head. He’s used to people going after him, to wanting him on account of his boyish beauty. And then comes along Lestat, who looks very much like Marius, who Armand himself falls in love with, and yet Lestat shows no interest or desire to be with him in that way. He doesn’t want to go after him, he doesn’t want to make him his. It’s almost like Lestat is the first person Armand’s ever loved who didn’t actually treat him like meat, and that’s heartbreaking that it took 300 years of life before Armand came across someone who actually treated him like a real person, but also makes the dynamic and relationship between him and Lestat very special. As at each others throats as they are, as antagonistic as their exchanges often are, I feel like there’s a purity to their love that simply doesn’t really exist for Armand anywhere else.
This part too, tells you plenty about the damage wrought in Armand by the trauma’s he’s experienced, another exchange with David, and Armand thinks
“I wondered idly and viciously if I could attack him, take him, bring him down under my greater craft and cunning and taste his blood without his consent.”
“I’m much too far along the road for that,” he said, “and why would you chance such a thing?”
“What self-possession. The older man in him did indeed command the sturdier younger flesh, the wise mortal with an iron authority over all things eternal and supernaturally powerful. What a blend of energies! Nice to drink his blood, to take him against his will. There is no such fun on Earth like the raping of an equal.
“I don’t know,” I said, ashamed. Rape is unmanly. “I don’t know why I insult you...”
It gives some pretty powerful insight into why Armand attacked Lestat the way he did, back when they first met. Lestat was already pretty much equal to Armand in strength then, and Armand, because of the horrible things he’s gone through in his life, displays those kinds of symptoms of trauma common to victims of sexual abuse, thinking about sex and violence as almost one in the same. Having invasive thoughts circling around those two things, etc... He’s been taught the two go hand in hand, and then being a vampire sort of affirms that perception, a vampire’s very nature being of a violent and sexual nature. Armand, while logically, knowing rape is bad and ugly and something one should be ashamed of, has still also had the concept of it almost normalized to him.
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