#but Louis is the only one trapped by it

[yearnerspermit]

This continues to be one of the best shots in the entire show and I will never shut up about it

[firstsqualler]

will/hannibal are so louis/lestat coded

[unrulylarry]

.

[hauntingblue]

Santiago and lestat having a diva off the second he steps on stage....

[ariaste]

listen ok so i made some good jokes yesterday about Lestat having an onlyfans but i am back today with a new essay and this one is entitled

Why The Invention Of Social Media Is Going to Permanently Save Loustat's Fucking Marriage

come on this journey with me.

ok so on one hand we have Louis, who does not like to leave the house except when he absolutely fucking has to and even then he resents it. my man wants to be at home with a book 100% of the time and he's so fucking valid for that. When he leaves the house, bad things happen to him. He has learned this and honestly i can't fault his evidence. it sucks out there. it truly incredibly sucks out there.

the problem is that sometimes he is married to lestat, who starts clawing at the walls if people aren't paying attention to him for 12 consecutive seconds, and being Out Of The House is the best place for him to go foraging for People To Pay Attention To Him. my man once had a rock star career the way that some people get addicted to meth brewed in a trashcan in someone's garage. Louis, through no fault of his own, is simply not capable of filling this psychological need no matter how hard he tries, except he should not even HAVE to try like that, because no one can do it, because Lestat is fucked up and like wasn't hugged enough as a child or something

this imbalance in their relationship is the core source of all their marital problems since day 1: THIS man's idea of a good time is chilling on the sofa in silence and maybe staring contemplatively at the wall for a while, and THIS man starts self-destructing at a truly astonishing rate if no one is making eye contact with him. If you make Louis go outside and socialize with people, he's miserable and sulking and whining about "are we done can we go home". If you make Lestat sit in silence in a chair for five minutes he starts crying and claiming that No One Has Ever Loved Him, Ever, Ever, And No One Understands Him, And He Hates Everyone In This House and He Is Being Actively Neglected And Cruelly Mistreated Right Now And No One Even Bothers To Feel Sorry For Him, This Is BASICALLY Domestic Violence Against Him Personally, If Only Anyone Knew About The Quiet Hidden Tragedies Of An Unhappy Marriage, and then he breaks some furniture and a window and isn't seen again for six weeks and comes back like "you will not believe what just happened, i [checks notes] met Merlin and also a dragon who gave me three wishes, brb i'm going to write another book about it :))))"

all you fucking have to do to fix their problems is to hand Lestat a cellphone and say the words "do you know about social media? you can say whatever shit you want and there's always someone awake in some time zone to talk to you." Suddenly Lestat is now very interested in sitting quietly on the couch, Lounging Alluringly and posting thirst traps on instagram and finally getting emotional fulfillment from all the likes and comments of "omg???? omg this is the hottest man alive". he does not have to leave the house anymore to get his attention meth. His yawning abyss of neediness is being fulfilled by having parasocial relationships with millions of strangers online who all think he's sexy and don't have to experience how fucking awful he is up close. he can flirt pointlessly with 200 people at once which is FINALLY ENOUGH FLIRTATIONS FOR HIM TO SATISFACTORILY JUGGLE

Meanwhile Louis is 3 feet away, vaguely reflecting to himself that HE is feeling all emotionally fulfilled because they're spending this great Quality Time together in perfect silence while he reads his book and Lestat plays on his cellular telephone and only OCCASIONALLY giggles to himself or says "louis which of these photos do you think is sexier, the one with four buttons undone or the one with five buttons undone" Louis is feeling like his Opinion is being Valued, Louis feels like he is being Consulted on Matters that are Important To Lestat. He has opinions about the photographs. It is not that much trouble to be interrupted from staring philosophically at the wall to spend five seconds looking at a photograph and then saying "that one". Finally he is experiencing Cozy Domesticity. he is so horny about it. lestat is surprised and bewildered about the sudden sharp increase in the amount of sex he is now getting but before he can make any vaguely mean comments about it (bc he's confused and vaguely defensive and worried that it's going to stop out of nowhere and he doesn't know any other interpersonal skills for expressing a thought) his phone pings about how he's just broken 5 million followers on instagram and he totally forgets to even mention the sex thing, which means that he continues getting the sex instead of inciting an argument about the sex and going through his 800th divorce from Louis

all their friends are extremely confused when a whole month, and then six months, and then a year goes by without another Loud Divorce happening and no one crashing through their front door like "I HAVE TO SLEEP IN YOUR GUEST COFFIN FOR THE NEXT MONTH, HE IS INTOLERABLE". They are worried. they are concerned. what is going on over there. are they both dead. no, they can't both be dead, Lestat just posted another tiktok of him sucking on his own fingers, which he would not be doing if Louis were dead. there is an ecosystem collapse happening in the groupchat and it's because the main Drama Vectors have been neutralized

[reasonsforhope]

"A team of researchers at Washington University in St. Louis has developed a real-time air monitor that can detect any of the SARS-CoV-2 virus variants that are present in a room in about 5 minutes.

The proof-of-concept device was created by researchers from the McKelvey School of Engineering and the School of Medicine at Washington University...

The results are contained in a July 10 publication in Nature Communications that provides details about how the technology works.

The device holds promise as a breakthrough that - when commercially available - could be used in hospitals and health care facilities, schools, congregate living quarters, and other public places to help detect not only the SARS-CoV-2 virus, but other respiratory virus aerosol such as influenza and respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) as well.

“There is nothing at the moment that tells us how safe a room is,” Cirrito said, in the university’s news release. “If you are in a room with 100 people, you don’t want to find out five days later whether you could be sick or not. The idea with this device is that you can know essentially in real time, or every 5 minutes, if there is a live virus in the air.”

How It Works

The team combined expertise in biosensing with knowhow in designing instruments that measure the toxicity of air. The resulting device is an air sampler that operates based on what’s called “wet cyclone technology.” Air is sucked into the sampler at very high speeds and is then mixed centrifugally with a fluid containing a nanobody that recognizes the spike protein from the SARS-CoV-2 virus. That fluid, which lines the walls of the sampler, creates a surface vortex that traps the virus aerosols. The wet cyclone sampler has a pump that collects the fluid and sends it to the biosensor for detection of the virus using electrochemistry.

The success of the instrument is linked to the extremely high velocity it generates - the monitor has a flow rate of about 1,000 liters per minute - allowing it to sample a much larger volume of air over a 5-minute collection period than what is possible with currently available commercial samplers. It’s also compact - about one foot wide and 10 inches tall - and lights up when a virus is detected, alerting users to increase airflow or circulation in the room.

Testing the Monitor

To test the monitor, the team placed it in the apartments of two Covid-positive patients. The real-time air samples from the bedrooms were then compared with air samples collected from a virus-free control room. The device detected the RNA of the virus in the air samples from the bedrooms but did not detect any in the control air samples.

In laboratory experiments that aerosolized SARS-CoV-2 into a room-sized chamber, the wet cyclone and biosensor were able to detect varying levels of airborne virus concentrations after only a few minutes of sampling, according to the study.

“We are starting with SARS-CoV-2, but there are plans to also measure influenza, RSV, rhinovirus and other top pathogens that routinely infect people,” Cirrito said. “In a hospital setting, the monitor could be used to measure for staph or strep, which cause all kinds of complications for patients. This could really have a major impact on people’s health.”

The Washington University team is now working to commercialize the air quality monitor."

-via Forbes, July 11, 2023

-

Holy shit. I know it's still early in the technology and more testing will inevitably be needed but holy shit.

Literally, if it bears out, this could revolutionize medicine. And maybe let immunocompromised people fucking go places again

Also, for those who don't know, Nature Communications is a very prestigious scientific journal that focuses on Pretty Big Deal research. Their review process is incredibly rigorous. This is an absolutely HUGE credibility boost to this research and prototype

[starkeyisthelastname]

(Here you are my gorgeous babes! 😘💕) Because Dealer!Rafe has enough money and then some more.💰😻💖

You knew Rafe sold drugs, the first interaction of you two was because you needed weed and your friend knew of him. You just didn’t know the depth of it and nor did Rafe want you too. He would always tell you that you were too damn pretty to worry about it, never needing to really reveal how dangerous of a man he was.

Banks runs were a fun day, riding in the passenger seat of his blacked out Range Rover like the princess you were. Fresh mani-pedi, lash extensions thick, pretty Louis bag sitting next to your hip. He would have one ringed hand on the steering wheel, other hand holding his phone as he talked to Barry about something you didn’t understand or would even question. You already had tried that before, and was reassured Rafe could defend himself.

“Stay here, pretty girl.” He would tell you, phone still pressed to his ear as he began to open the drivers side door. You turned your head as you applied the Dior lipgloss in the mirror, looking at him with a glossy pout.

“Can I go in this time?” You asked, long lashes fluttering at him.

Rafe shook his head, gripping your jaw firmly to make you look up at him. “Quit fuckin pouting, you’re too goddamn gorgeous for that shit.” He said, voice low. “Let daddy handle his business and maybe you’ll get something.”

You nodded, eyes looking up at him like the perfect little doll you were. He loved every second of spoiling you with the massive amounts of trap money he made. He pulled you in for a sloppy kiss before pulling back with a smirk on his lips. He never had committed to any girl or ever wanted to, but something about you was different and he would give you whatever the fuck your precious heart desired.

You waited as patiently as you could, eyes glancing up at the door ever so often until you saw your tall boyfriend walking out of the bank, a couple blue bags in hand. He was so effortlessly sexy wearing his white tee, a gold chain resting against his collarbone, and fresh buzzcut bringing how his handsome face. He got into the drivers seat, setting two out of the three blue bags in the center console next to a shiny gun. He closed it, before handing you the one bag he left out.

Unzipping it, you looked into the bag to see bundle of cash wrapped in rubber bands and colorful tabs. He chuckled as you looked up at him, eyes a little wide at the amount.

“Go fucking crazy mama, daddy’s got plenty more to go around.” Rafe laughed, looking over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking space. He was a fucking boss and his money and girl were the only two priorities he was worried about. “You are a pretty princess aren’t ya? Pretty princesses deserve expensive shit.” He said, hand coming over to possessively grab your thigh.

[lordofdestructionm]

Wick Sable

The odd duck in the guilded cage

Despite this being a feral Mordecai and Viktor account I do occasionally like to dig into the others.

Wick is a character Lackadaisy fans love but don't talk about very much. He just the rich friendly geologist with a love of illicit beverages and a crush on Mitzi. Indeed he is all those things. But I want to dig a little into what may be hidden depth (geography joke haha)

Professional dissatisfaction

When we first meet Wick he is behind his desk looking very tired and beaten down. Forcing himself to keep working late into the night with excessive coffee. Attending to a large pile of paper work for tomorrow.

His expression shifts slightly when he sees the Lackadaisy pins fall out of the envelope and realises the letter is an invitation to him (and his fellow aristocrats) to the speakeasy.

This hatred of paper work and the administrative side of his business is a recurring issue for Wick. Making the reason for his reliance on the capable and attentive Lacy very obvious. Exhaustian and too much alchohol are no doubt partly to blame, but it seems to be something that puts him in a very depressed state of mind.

But when actually on the job, overseeing the hands on work of blasting a new quarry, his mood is much more positive. Indeed he has a very real and sincere love for geology and the nitty gritty work of his business. When he first went to the Lackadaisy he was spellbound by the lime caverns themselves as much by Mitzi's charm.

Its his special interest and he will go on long unprompted monologues on the topic if given the chance. Meaning it is specifically the being trapped in his office dealing with the red tape that makes him so unhappy not the industry itself.

Its almost sad that he is the one in charge of the company rather than in a role that puts him closer to the action which seems to bring him real joy. Like someone who loves cooking being in charge of a restuarant or someone that loves drawing running an animation studio.

They love the product/industry but that doesn't mean they enjoy their specific place in it.

Unimpressed Peers

Despite Wicks enthusiasm it proves not be infectious with his fellow elite, who complain about being dragged out of town to watch something, that while very important to Wick, they clearly could not care less about (even not that quietly mocking him and his love for rocks and construction)

When the evening doesn't go to plan due to the uninvited pig farmers Wick has an interesting exchange with Edmund Church, seemingly the most prominent of the St Louis upper crust in the group. Warning him about getting any more involved with an unsavoury crowd, especially Mitzi, outside of simply enjoying the occasional drink.

Wick doesn't take kindly to the snarky criticism and borderline threat to his reputation and responds with a much more direct statement on his peers sour nature

Tracy has mentioned that Church has a role yet to play in the story and it seems safe to assume from this it may well involve Wick in a less than friendly way if he continues to associate with his "lessers" as Church and the others see things.

Despite needing to remain on civil terms to keep them invested in his business, Wick clearly has little love for them, a feeling that is mutual as they have little respect for him and see him as an oddball, only tolerating him because his talent in his field can help make them a tidy profit.

But while he doesn't appreciate Church's sniping Wick IS concerned about his reputation, but not entirely for his own sake or that of his elitist associates, but for the many people who rely on him for employment, who could be hurt by extension of he gets pulled too deep into the less than repectable world of bootlegging

Romantic life

Outside of the crush he has had on Mitzi since first meeting her at the Speakeasy, we have very little information about Wicks love life before this. Being a handsome and wealthy gentleman from a good family, you would think he would he fighting women off with a stick, maybe even be a bit of a playboy.

Instead you get the impression Wick is pretty far away from being a ladies man. Mentioning to Mitzi that he doesn't even really know how to talk to women unless its about rocks, bugs or limestone.

He is clearly attracted to her and is tempted by her to risk his reputation and by extension his business to get closer to her, but so far his fear of the very real consequences are deterring him from taking that gamble.

Though there is that personal aspect to it, it seems that in a more abstract sense Mitzi's appeal to Wick is not just in her beauty and seductive personality, but in the excitement and thrill of her Speakeasy and bootlegging operations.

In that sense Mitzi represents that touch of danger and excitement that during prohibition many otherwise law abiding citizens enjoyed indulging in illegal drinking establishments. Being* just* naughty enough to give them a fun thrill while being detached from the more brutal blood soaked aspects.

Wick is a good natured person (the worst thing he has done is shoot a duck in his youth which he was forced to do) living a very "respectable" life, but that makes the superficial glamour of the world of underground drinking establishments and secret booze stashes even more appealing. Thats why despite his concerns and responsibilities he keeps going back ,not just to Mitzi, but to the Lackadaisy specifically. It has pretty geography, a pretty owner, and an open door to a more exciting avenue of life

Its for that same reason he doesn't seem to be overly uncomfortable with lovable bi disaster Zib flirting with him at the bar. He may have no intention of reciprocating, but it couldn't be a more different experience to the world he is used to

Even if he doesn't yet want to take the full plunge it all excites him enough to keep him circling the edges.

Because despite having so much going for him there are things about his life that not only bore him but make him unhappy. Whether its piles of paperwork, dealing with much stuffier "conventional" fellow aristocrats and not wanting to be like them, or just a general lack of true passion in his life, he is clearly a man looking for something more satisfying

Whether or not he remains a "tourist" or decides to take that gamble, throw his reservations to the wind, and take a more active role in the gang, is yet to be seen...

Assuming Rocky doesn't set fire to him first of course XD

[ghouldump]

✧ iwtv imagines

everything is gn!reader or fem!reader.

poc friendly !!

if requesting, please provide a generic summary, to give me an idea.

please follow for more, your support is appreciated.

002 004

beautiful deception

moving to paris, the last thing you expected was to come across the ancient vampire.

beautiful deception, untold truth

remembering the truth sometimes hurts, but perhaps love will prevail

teacher’s pet

hunting with armand as his new lovely fledgling and companion.

to be loved

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.

coming soon…

001 002 003

anything for you ii

all he wants is for you to be his perfect companion, yet you keep chasing the fleeting things of life.

as you are | bi!reader

cuddling together, the two of you share your experiences with past lovers.

come to me

lestat is willing to do anything to get his companion back, even if it means revealing his identity to the entire world.

diva

lestat is a handful to tour with but he's also incredibly handsome and charismatic.

fallen

princess of demacia, a marine kingdom is temporarily banished. she refuses to conform to the standard, being a heartless killer. wandering the water, she finds herself in new orleans, where she meets a vampire.

fangirl

meeting the vampire rockstar goes surprisingly well.

love me | bi!reader

as your companionship seems to be failing, you retreat, seeking comfort from a woman who looks awfully similar.

masquerade

even with your horrific background, he fell deeply for your heart.

pretty when you cry | bi!reader

when you are hunting, focused on your prey, you don't even realize how beautiful you look to lestat.

spider and the fly

when lestat uses louis as bait to lure and trap his actual prey.

sweet rapture | bi!reader

lestat is a firm believer that as a vampire, your very existence is about pleasure, but for the first time, he meets someone who shares this belief, even beyond his standards.

the miseducation of vampire lestat | series

The story of a forbidden love, when the young upcoming singer gets herself tangled in the dark world of the rockstar, Lestat. He is too captivating to leave, despite everyone’s efforts to keep the relationship from happening. However, the longer you are close to the brat prince, allowing him to consume your thoughts, the more you realize none of them — not a single one of them, actually knew anything genuine about him.

the night is ours

being awakened, naturally you go to your old love, only to find that he is now a rockstar, perhaps now you can have the happily ever after you both once wanted.

thicker than water

you should have known better than to entertain someone who would bring up the idea of leaving your husband and daughter.

trick or treat

sneaking into the supposedly empty townhouse, you are met by a surprise

tu es mon autre

he never thought he would meet someone who brought back such familiar feelings.

your best nightmare

being away from your companion, as both of you take on stardom, can be frustrating, but it is very rewarding to see your maker for the first time in months.

coming soon…

back in my arms | loustat x reader

time traveling accidentally and you're able to relive bittersweet memories.

forever young | loustat x reader

you meet someone who reminds you of your maker, and naturally gravitate to them, but your family isn't as welcoming to the idea of the man.

for the love of a daughter | loustat x reader

out of fear, lestat does the unimaginable and has to try his hardest to win his family's trust back, but it may be too late

god complex | loustat x reader

you want out, realizing your little family isn't as perfect as you thought, but they would never let you slip away so easily.

l’amour de ma vie | loustat x reader

while you love your companions, it is no secret that they oftentimes exclude you, and it isn't until you leave that they go into panic mode.

trust | loumand x reader

born for stardom, but destined for chaos, the last thing you ever expected was for two old vampires to become your companions.

[m0chisenpai]

Hi, could you do a Louis x Fem!reader x Armand? Like something where they are both obsessed with her and maybe she a little oblivious even tho they give her what ever she wants. I love your others too by the way.🫶🏼

desires of the heart

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which she has two immortals wrapped around her little finger

Author note: this sounds similarish to a loumand fic I got previously so I’m gonna build onto that one

Time in the penthouse seems to move slower. The days and nights felt blurred from adjusting your schedule to the ‘vampires’ Daniel interviews. And with each passing day, more and more do the vampires find themselves falling deeper into your heart.

You had their own dead ones in the palm of your hand yet you remained so oblivious to it.

But on top of this you find yourself spending your time less in your room and more in their company.

“Those books, are the older ones right?” You watch Armand hover above in the collection looking for more pictures of Claudia for your personal “research”. In your spare time you’ve begun compiling information from her journals and diaries, looking for pictures to put a face to the voice of the woman trapped in a child’s body.

“Yes, some of these are beyond your time,” he looks down at you slowly allowing himself to settle in front of you. You push your frames back up the bridge of your nose so you can properly look at the elder vampire.

“Can I see them?”

Louis watches amused from his seat as Armand holds you close to show you the books. Slowly he glides back up with you in his arms following your direction till you pick a small stack to sit with Louis and look through.

These are older photographs from his years in New Orleans. Family pictures, pictures from his childhood.

"Aw what happened to the fro?" you pout as Louis pulls a family picture out.

"Times were different," Louis rolls his eyes as you scoff. You page through the album carefully.

"Is that him?" your eyes settle on a duo picture, him and his brother side by side. Louis can only nod, his lips pressed in a line as you stare. "He was handsome. Sweetheart, I can tell by how he's looking at you here in this one."

Before Louis can respond one f the workers has entered. Interrupting your bubble of peace. "Mr.Molloy has requested you in his room."

Armand's face immediately ices over into a glare, his response fiery. "Tell Mr.Molloy if he wishes for his help to return he can come and get them himself. She is not a dog."

"It's alright, the old fart does this all the time in the office." You go to stand stretching your arms overhead and quickly rubbing your forearms for friction. You're cold, Louis observes the goosebumps across your freckled shoulders from the slouch neck sweater you wear.

When you are are out of ear shot Louis speaks to the worker.

"Have the shoppers come in tomorrow morning for Mr.Molloy's intern. The girl needs proper clothing."

Much to Daniel's distaste. you are like a child in a candy shop pointing to sweaters from Ralph Lauren's upcoming fall collection. But he hides his distaste giving you a smile when you happily show hi the sweater that was 'giving Rory Gilmore but I wear it better.' Armand sits watching as you soar through racks and picking your items of choice.

You hesitate when a woman approaches holding a cases of lenses, "we offer these in prescription of course."

"Oh no these are fine."

"Pick one." Armand finally speaks up. When you look at him he is now sitting up, but the way he sits with his legs crossed, an arm draped across the back while the other rests atop his knee. His eyes a show of dominance, as if daring you to say no to him.

You settle on a thick marbled brown pair. But he stands to move in front of you, picking up a few for you to try. You try on several till you are pushing his hands away.

"The jade green ones as well as the golden wired ones for her," you grumble watching as he picks up the two for the woman to box. "We will have your prescription sent as soon as possible."

"Thank you but, this a bit much for a few days stay."

"We have no issue providing you your comforts whilst you work on the novel."

"Ok but-"

He raises a brow that silences any opposition. When you offer no more pushback, Armand places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the women who begin to drape you in abayas and scarves for your hair.

You're nearing the end of the interviews. You can tell cause they spend any bit of time of the days glued to your side. You don't bring it up, you accidentally mentioned it in passing to Louis and his entire demeanor once so warm and gentle became...rigid.

He sits beside you on the couch now. Watching you listen and take notes.

These days he's more brazen in his affections. Sitting closer, allowing his hand to linger when he passes your chai, playing with the baby curls at the nape of your neck. But there is something even more intimate as he sits across from you, watching you.

"Gonna keep staring me down like a creep?"

His lips perk up, "sorry cher. Just memorizing your face."

Your fingers stop typing, your train of thought halts for a second till they both return at the steady pace you had going.

"Can a vampire love?"

"I believe we feel immensely. Everything feels...deeper. Almost too much."

"But if your entire being is dead, what is it that allows you to feel again?"

Ah, that mind of yours. Louis loved it deeply. His eyes flicker to his joined palms till they return on you.

"I've heard stories, seen elder vampires that lived many lifetimes take their life because of the loneliness. At times, I myself felt it. Had our feelings died with us, then I do not think they would put an end to themselves."

You nod, pausing for a moment again.

"I feel it too," you pause for a moment, "it's the worst."

Though Louis respects your boundaries, he feels the buzz in your bones. A desire sitting on your lips. “What do you need?” It comes out as a whisper, yet it feels so loud.

And your response is just as quiet, “can you hold me. Please.”

Louis is beside you in an instant. The laptop shut and atop the table, and he is holding you close. Your eyes slowly fall shut as you wrap your arms back around him. He pulls you atop him.

You feel complete again, so whole.

[cryptocism]

Here’s my thing about the twist at the end of IWTV season 2 (spoilers obvi)

The magic system that IWTV has is for flavour. It’s spice, it’s zest, it’s a lil bit of seasoning that gives the storytelling a fun supernatural kick. 

We are not given exact metrics or data for how exactly the Vampire Powers function, just examples of some that can manifest (pyrokinesis/telekinesis/telepathy/flight/mind control/etc) and that Vampire Powers get stronger as they get older. eg. Armand can walk in the sun – but is he immune or just resistant? How old does a vampire have to be before they can take a midday stroll minus immolation? Is there a time limit? An intensity where they could still be injured? Does the effect lessen if they have some shade like an umbrella or a large hat–

IRRELEVANT!!! The Vampire Powers are for SPICE and these kinds of nerdy-ass questions about scope and scale in this magic system does nothing for the characters or the story. You do not need to know the exact range or power of Louis’ Fire Gift in order to cheer and clap when he burns down the theatre. Lestat’s Cloud Gift doesn’t need a follow-up explanation on how high/fast he can fly in order to be devastating when he uses it to do a domestic violence. This isn’t Fullmetal Alchemist, this isn’t Mistborn. This magic system is SPICE, and getting into specifics about the powers and how they work distracts from the wonderful twisty soap opera of the gay vampires doing war crimes to each other.

So my thing about the twist is not that Armand was willing to let Louis die, and it’s not the reveal that Lestat was actually the one who saved Louis.

My thing about the twist is that it relies on a magic system that wasn’t built to support that kind of major end-of-season plot point. And the consequences that the resulting ambiguity has on Claudia, the greatest tragic hero of all time.

So the Mind Gift. 

Armand has that shit on lock. He’s shown using it extremely competently even before the San Francisco memory-alteration reveal. He’s the only member of the coven who clocks Louis’ recognition at Lestat’s name, he notices the “presence” in Louis’ mind when Louis hallucinates Dreamstat, he knows when Louis is lying to him about Claudia’s involvement in Lestat’s murder, when he tells Louis and Claudia to close their minds before his conversation with Madeline he says “I’ll know it if you haven’t.”. He’s able to knock out the entire coven in one scene, although it’s unclear whether that’s the Mind Gift or a combination of telekinesis and the time stopping(?) thing. Plus of course mind-wiping memory-alteration courtesy of the San Francisco saw trap.

Armand is the oldest vampire in the show so far, we know vampires get more powerful with age, and his previously shown competency with the Mind Gift means that when he says he compelled an audience full of people into banishing Louis, it’s a believable addition to his powerset. 

And, consequently, when he says “it took all my strength” we can guess that he’s lying his ass off. Daniel points out Armand saved Louis and not Claudia because he was trying to reveal the reasoning that everybody except Louis already knows. To quote Assad Zaman: Armand doesn’t give a fuck about Claudia.

Lestat on the other hand.

His one and only use of the Mind Gift (besides the generalized telepathy all the vampires share) is when he mindfucks 30ish soldiers out of his townhouse in the 1900s. His ears bleed about it – and we can pretty confidently interpret orifice-bleeding as a kind of catch-all for mind-powers being difficult. And then we don’t mention it again for a season and a half because the magic system is for spice and Louis is more concerned with other shit.

Until Daniel brings it up in his Big Reveal, and this piece of evidence allows for the truth to come out and Armand to be exposed as an opportunistic liar. Scene is played out brilliantly, Louis puts a crater in his wall via his ex-husband, good stuff.

HOWEVER

This twist has the consequence of shifting the focus of the story. The central question has changed slightly. Instead of the reveal being who killed Claudia, the narrative focus is now on who saved Louis.

And despite my love of Daniel’s reveal scene, despite my love of the Louis/Lestat reunion scene, “who saved Louis” ends up a weaker thematic question.

Claudia is the whole fucking point. Claudia and the way her fathers failed her. Claudia and the tragedy of her narrative doom. Claudia and the ways she never escaped that child’s body in that burning house, no matter how much she tried.

My thing about the twist is that it takes our previous understandings of Armand and Lestat’s respective power and agency in that scene from this:

Armand: Could’ve Prevented It (Chose Not To) Lestat: Genuinely Could Not Have Prevented It

To this:

Armand: Could’ve Prevented It (Chose Not To) Lestat: Could’ve Prevented It (Chose Not To)

And then doesn’t interrogate or explain further. There is no one that says to Lestat, “You saved him, but why didn’t you save her?” 

And look I can understand I’m meant to extrapolate that Lestat used all his strength to save Louis and therefore didn’t have enough juice to do the same for Claudia (his ears bleed about it and everything)

But they sprinkled so much doubt on Armand’s “it took all my strength” excuse and then immediately showed Lestat as much more powerful with the Mind Gift than previously assumed, and so I’m left with too many unanswered questions.

This is where the narrative puts too much weight on a magic system that wasn’t built to support it. The audience is aware, vaguely, that the older a vampire is the more powerful they are, but we aren’t actually given tangible comparisons between Armand and Lestats respective abilities circa 1949. Lestat is shown or said to have all of Armand’s same abilities by this point, but besides Armand being older, he’s never shown outmatching Lestat in power, and so we never get a real sense of Lestat's limitations.

I should mention that, on its own, this wouldn’t be a flaw. Like I said the magic is here for spice and zest and we don’t need Armand and Lestat to have a wizard battle in order to understand that Armand is probably nebulously more powerful.

But when you hinge a plot point on Lestat’s magical abilities and their limits, I would like to know for certain whether Lestat genuinely couldn’t have prevented Claudia’s death or, like Armand, simply chose not to.

If it’s the latter, it counterintuitively makes Lestat a much less sympathetic character, when (as far as I can tell) the purpose of the twist is to make Lestat more of a heroic figure, since post-reveal there are no further interrogations of Lestat's choices.

And I’ve read wonderful meta on Lestat choosing to let Claudia die and then regretting it forever: if he loved her more she would’ve suffered less, if he loved her less she might not have suffered at all, etc.

But none of this is given any focus in the show because besides Lestat’s single heartbreaking line about Claudia looking to him in her last moments. There is no illumination on whether Lestat’s inaction was due to personal choice or lack of ability. There’s no solid evidence in the show to swing it one way or the other, the magic system is too soft to support a solid conclusion about it.

And. Claudia was sentenced before Louis. So even if Lestat only had the ability to save one of them, he still made the conscious choice to save his strength for Louis.

Which is also not necessarily a flaw. Lestat making the choice to save Louis over Claudia would be an extremely compelling road to go down. My issue is that the show has changed the central question from who killed Claudia to who saved Louis and is now pretending that that road doesn’t exist.

There is no indication that Louis feels any kind of way about Lestat ostensibly choosing him over their daughter. There’s no indication that Lestat had any hesitation about his choice, despite his sadness at her death. I can interpret Sam Reid’s acting choices in the final scene as Lestat not realizing how much Claudia meant to him until she looked at him “like a child looking to her father” but by then it was too late – but that would still be speculative.

Giving Lestat the agency to save Louis and Claudia during the trial both puts too much pressure on a magic system that can’t support it, and puts wind-drag on Louis and Lestats reunion: what should be the emotional climax of the show.

And look to be clear: show good. I’m obsessed with show. 

But the structural integrity of the final twist makes me feel like an OSHA inspector in an otherwise competently made building that doesn't have railings on the stairs.

They don't establish enough information wrt the magic system so that Lestat’s sudden ability and subsequent assumed limitations can reasonably track. They don't interrogate the consequences of giving Lestat the choice to save his daughter and then him proceeding to Not Do That.

I don’t think it’s out of character for Armand to choose his coven over Louis considering his habit of clinging to the familiar even if it sucks. I don’t think it’s out of character for Lestat to choose Louis over Claudia considering both Lestat and Louis’ habit of doing exactly that.

But you cannot ask the question “Who killed Claudia? (or, through inaction, allowed Claudia to die)” the entire season and then answer it with “Actually, Lestat saved Louis!”

It shifts the focus, it muddies the theme, it relies too heavily on a magic system that is supposed to be vibes-based and most importantly it treats Claudia like an afterthought when Claudia is literally the entire fucking point.

Claudia isn’t even the main character in her own story, the most tragic of tragic heroes, only someone’s first choice in the moments before her death, and neither she nor the woman she loves can do anything to change their endings. Louis and Lestat’s realization of all the ways they failed her is meant to be the emotional catharsis of the show, but it rings hollow, because the consequence of the final twist serves to render her narratively and metanarratively another round in Louis and Lestat’s stormy romance and un-asking its own central question.

[gracerings]

the insane thing about the babytrapping storyline in iwtv is that neither louis nor lestat were actually trapping the other because neither of them really wanted to leave and the only one who ended up truly trapped was the baby herself

[wizardpink]

I screencapped these two posts four days ago because I had Something to Say and now I have no idea wth it was.

I think it had something to do with power dynamics and how Armand making Daniel a vampire actually handed Daniel a huge amount of power over Armand despite being the fledgling?

So number one Armand rendered his primary weapon against Daniel / form of self-defense completely useless by making Daniel his fledgling. He can no longer use the mind gift to manipulate Daniel or erase his memories. Which of course is true for all makers and fledglings, but most makers' fledglings aren't Sherlock Holmes with a BSJ. Daniel beat Armand's mental saw trap as a human. Armand is never, never getting one over on him now. Daniel will perceive the slightest change in energy coming from Armand and immediately know that he's lying, and 3 seconds of deduction later and he'll know why. He's an open book now, which must be terrifying.

Number two: mentorship. This is how Lestat kept control over Claudia and Louis for so long: he kept them dependent on him through ignorance. He only told them enough about vampirism to get through the day to day: don't go in the sun, don't drink dead blood, the other vampires of the world are vicious, etc. Every fledging needs their maker at LEAST in the beginning to teach them the ropes. Well, Daniel just wrote the goddamned book on vampirism, literally. Daniel sat there and listened as Louis told him everything he knew, everything Lestat ever taught him, everything Armand ever taught him. What other vampire ever got the in-depth two week course on Vampires 101 before they even got turned?! Crazy stuff.

Number three: vampire loneliness. Supposedly the most cruel and painful thing a vampire can endure. It keeps fledglings and makers tied to each other well past the point of being able to stand each other. And god knows Armand is staring down the barrel of having no one but Daniel. Which is unfortunate for him, considering Daniel is besties with his ex husband and touring with his ex boyfriend. Daniel has friends, friends that didn't torture him for 4 days then try to kill him. Oof.

All of this is to say that, with the info we have right now, Daniel has very little need for Armand. Armand in comparison needs him at least not to be alone, but what leverage does he have to get Daniel to stay with him? He's got nothing babes. I'm not a strong believer in the Armand is running from Daniel theory on season 3, but if he is, it's hard to blame him. He is shooting 0 for 1,000 right now, losing left and right, dying of shame and guilt and embarrassment. I'd probably crawl in a hole and die too.

"Oh but wizardpink, that's not very Devil's Minion of you!" AU CONTRAIRE. Because what could be more compelling and romantic than someone who has no use for you but nevertheless wants you? Thinks about you constantly and doesn't know why? You tried to capture them in a glass jar but they broke out and flew away, only to flutter back because they missed you? Yeah inject that straight into my veins.

And on the flip side? Maybe Armand goes straight back to that headspace he was in in '73, the crazed look in his eyes when he told Daniel he was going to teach him to be fascinating. That's ONE thing Armand still has on Daniel, he could probably overpower him enough to keep him trapped somewhere, if Armand thought Daniel was going to leave him. This, too, is Devil's Minion as fuck. Slowest of burns, as they say.

Hmm. Yeah I guess that was what I was gonna say.

[donnapalude]

i find something very interesting in what the show has done with claudia's ambivalent relationship with truthfulness, honesty, narrativisation, and storytelling.

claudia is, by and large, depicted as someone that feels some distaste at the idea of embellishing emotional truths by providing too much context, reasoning, or justifications for them. she is not blind to the existence of these things and in fact she is quite a good judge of character. but i believe she perceives it as a weakness to feel the need to organize them in a self-created narrative in order to give some meaning to life events. it feels deliberate that she enjoyed storytelling when she was younger (see, her semi-mythology about angels and devils) and then stopped after her father made her stare at the boy (who called her an angel!) she loved and killed while he was burning. i think she knows, from then on, that a story has no power and it changes nothing. to keep telling it would feel like intolerable self-deception. she would not disrespect what happened by painting a pretty picture about it and, from that point, she never does again.

this mindset, i believe, is also compounded by growing up around two parents extremely inclined to narrativisation as a method of obfuscation. she is perceptive enough to correctly guess this tendency stems from a fundamental inability to face their respective realities, although in almost opposite ways. lestat seeks to control his internal reality by attempting to warp his external one. which is to say, he lies to others to manage their perception of him because he is unable to deal with feelings of insecurity and rejection. louis seeks to control his external reality by attempting to warp his internal one. which is to say, he lies to himself to manage his own self-perception because it's the only way to survive the awareness of the coercions that society (and his various families) put on him. regardless, i think claudia sees how vacuous their attempts are in avoiding pain to themselves and others and she despises them for it. both for lacking the courage to do away with the attempts and for not being able to make them work (secretly, maybe unconsciously, it would be good to have some faith back).

at the same time, claudia keeps writing multiple diaries, loves theatre and loves acting. the diaries seem to become less cinematic over time and she is aware that when she watches a play or she is on stage there is no truth being tarnished, the story is all that exists. still, her intense search for these alternative forms of narration reads to me as a residual longing for the power of storytelling. it's no coincidence, i think, that in order to kill lestat, who had been initially responsible for destroying that belief and who she feels all-powerful, she needs and dares to tell herself one more story: the one about the vampires in europe that will love her, if she can just get through this. apart from that, i think theatre and her diaries represent the last refuge where she can relive the illusion that telling stories has some meaning and some impact. which makes it particularly cruel that the stage is then used as a place where stories become powerful again and they are deployed to first trap her and then kill her.

given all this. i think it's fair to say that claudia usually strives to be both truthful and honest: even the lies she concedes to telling are usually not flights of fancy but stick close to the truth. and they are borne out of a pragmatic need for self-preservation, not a desire to avoid uncomfortable realisations. she makes, overall, an heroic attempt to bear both her internal and her external reality, without trying (unless it's a matter of survival) to forcibly control them, but just accepting them and doing her best with them. the issue with her reasoning i feel, is that, while narrativisation can be a form of deception, it is also in many ways the only mean of creation of a sense of identity. i guess this point is debatable according to the philosophical tradition one draws from, but i would personally argue there is no ontological stable self that exists outside of our own perception. what exists are our thoughts and actions. and "identity" is the net that ties them together, created by the dialogue between the narrative we weave over them and our own reactions to that narrative. the moment the self begins a self-referential recounting, it is already in the realm of intrepretation. which does not mean truth and honesty don't have a role in this: there is, i believe, honesty in recognizing and accepting our actual thoughts and feelings and actions. but after that, their interpretation is always a truth created.

there are two consequence to this for me. the first, is that it becomes evident at some point that an abandonment of any recounting leaves you bereft of lies but also berefts of truths. claudia has no real tools to make sense of her interiority. in the few brief scenes where she explictly talks about her feelings regarding her traumatic experiences, she is merely able to make a list of facts and stark sensations. her conclusion about the "collision" in her, her sense of brokeness, being "i don't know". her conclusion over the retelling of her assault being simply "it fucked me up". i see in her a deep difficulty in re-elaborating her feelings and connecting them in a unitary vision, which deprives her of the possibility to consolidate an assessment over the impact of events on her identity and build something new on it. the second, is that her diaries by nature cannot escape being a form of narrativision. at least to some extent. even if she tries to describe "reality" as close as possible, the moment she puts pen on paper and decides which stories to tell and how, she is creating her own intrepretation. so yes the diaries are technically a truthful source, but the concept of truthfulness is not so uncomplicated that we can equate it to mean "objectively reliable".

as a final consideration i will say that i find claudia profoundly moving and brave in her decision to never close her eyes before life, and in the end, even before death. and even more so because hers is not a meek, passive stance. surrounded by liars and cowards, she is smart enough to see that truth is a very powerful weapon against people that can't bear it. when these people hurt her, she has no need to warp reality to hurt them back: she just puts them before themselves and lets them macerate in their own reflection. and this commitment to the truth stays with her until her final act and then transcends her in some way: as she fades, for once, it's lestat that cannot close his eyes.

[crushribbons]

𝓋𝑜𝓌

summary: Ominis Gaunt never makes promises he can't keep.

cw: 4k words, angst, SMUT (18+ ONLY), arranged marriage, technically cheating ig but not really, penetrative sex, fingering, vv small breeding kink, horrible family dynamics, fem reader. request

a/n: for jas 🤍 xx laney

Her eyes kept drifting over to him across the crowded room. Dozens of people flitted through the restaurant, stopping in front of her table to congratulate her and make her stomach churn with nerves, but there was only one man that she truly wanted to talk to.

He hadn’t come over to the happy couple yet, too absorbed in stirring his untouched drink with the tip of his finger. His lips were pursed like he’d just smelled something unpleasant. Blonde hair swept away from his face carefully, he looked every bit like the sophisticate he was known to be.

But she knew so much more of Ominis Gaunt.

“You’re my everything. The air in my lungs. I need you.”

“Ominis, please, we can’t!”

“You don’t want me to?”

“On the contrary. I want you far too much.”

Someone was talking to her, but her thoughts were a loud rush in her ears and she just smiled up at the buxom, middle-aged woman that was telling her and her betrothed how wonderful the look of young love was. The betrothed in question cleared his throat and gave a thin smile that was more grimace. His back was stiffly upright. 

As the woman drifted away, he turned to the girl to his left. “How much longer do I have to put up with this awfulness?” he asked, grit in his jaw. 

“Why ask me? Your father is the one who insisted on throwing a party and inviting the entire town, Louis,” she muttered back over the top of her water glass. Louis’ mouth did not soften. 

Power, status, and money, disgusting globs of money awaited her after her marriage to this man, and she was trapped, forced to take all of it and wanting none of it. It felt like a slap in the face to those less-privileged for her to be turning her nose up at the comfort and luxury she would enjoy as a Nott, and the guilt wracked her day and night. 

When her father had first told her that he would be offering her hand to the oldest Nott boy, she had wept. 

“You’ll be taken care of forever, my dear,” her father had cooed, attempting parental concern for her for the first time since her birth by patting her on the back. His hand hardly making contact with her, he coughed awkwardly and continued, “You’ll never want for anything.”

“I don’t want anything, father, except for the chance to pick the person I spend the rest of my life with myself!” she had cried.

She remembered the rest all too vividly: attending a dinner party whose purpose, she had been told, was mere “introductions”, and by the end of the night she had been engaged to the man across the table from her who was gripping his knife and fork and glaring at her as if she’d sabotaged the rest of his life on purpose. Since then, they’d spoken no more than eight words to each other (A squeak of “Lovely dinner” from her on the night of their engagement, and a brusque “You ought to have worn white” from him when she arrived at his manor in a somber black dress to have their marital portrait painted) and when she’d been instructed to arrive at the London restaurant they were currently seated at for a party celebrating their betrothal, she’d cried once more.

When she was a young girl, she used to picture the man she would one day marry. He was always fuzzy, nebulous. Kind, of course, and willing to give her the world. Perhaps an artist or some otherwise creatively-inclined profession. Tall and handsome, but his features never swam into focus when she imagined walking down the aisle of a church to him. 

Then, when she was fifteen, she’d met Ominis Gaunt, and the face at the front of the church became perfectly distinct. The demure Slytherin had taken some time to open up to her, but before their sixth year at Hogwarts was over, they were so enamored with one another that she sometimes had to look back at the unclear idea she’d had of love and laugh. It was always Ominis, forever.

Until it wasn’t.

At seventeen, she’d come home to her parents’ estate for the Christmas holiday with stars in her eyes and declared, “I’m in love, and we’re going to get married one day.”

“Really, dear? To whom?” Her mother had absently inquired. The glass of sherry in her hand lolled dangerously from side to side, but she didn’t seem to notice. When she’d told them about Ominis, her father, who until this point had remained silent and uninterested, had guffawed without looking up from the newspaper on his lap and said, “The Gaunts’ sightless little rat? I should like to see you try. That family has gone to the dogs.” Rage boiled up inside her and she opened her mouth to shout, but father had merely held up a hand. “You’re to be married to a strong family when you come of age, and I won’t hear another word about this silly idea of romance you’ve cooked up in your head.”

Since then, there had been a complete moratorium on the topic of Ominis or, indeed, the entire Gaunt family in her household. It killed her very gradually, in ways she didn’t notice until it was too late. She smiled less and less often. The things she used to look forward to, like quiet walks and pumpkin juice and pressing flowers, now seemed as gray as everything else in her life. 

After she left Hogwarts for good, they saw each other as often as they could believably make trips to Hogsmeade to meet up. Nervous glances over her shoulder had become a regular part of being with Ominis, but her passion for him outweighed any fear.

Sirona Ryan had become very adept at noticing dust on the bar when certain members of two of the most prominent families in the British wizarding world would dart, breathless, into her inn and throw several more Galleons than necessary down, pleading silently with her for discretion as they took the room key she handed them.

Ominis’ panting ran endlessly around his lover’s mind as she watched people celebrate the end of their relationship. 

“Come on, darling, come for me.” “C-can’t–S’too good, Om.”

“No, let me hear it, please. Don’t hold back. It’s all I get to bring home with me.”

The crooked and bent elder Mr. Nott was rising to his feet and knocking the side of his champagne glass with a butter knife. “Excuse me,” he thundered out, his gruff voice making the chattering guests and party-goers at their own tables turn their heads to look at him. “I’d like to say a few words in honor of my son, on this, the night before his wedding.”

Ice clawed up the inside of her body, frozen talons digging into her organs and causing fear to flood her throat. Her breath began coming in short, labored gasps. “What does he mean, the night before?” she hissed to Louis, who ignored her. 

Louis wasn’t physically cruel to her, but he made sure to keep her apprised of how unhappy he was with their union. As if she felt any differently.

“To see two great families come together like this,” the elder Nott blustered, “is truly a gift. Not only to us, but to the rest of the wizarding community…” 

She didn’t hear a word of the rest of his slimy posturing. The only word ringing around her ears was wedding, wedding, wedding. She’d been told that there would be a long engagement period to Louis, long enough to plaster their union in the Daily Prophet and throw several redundant parties so that everyone in the country was aware of just how much money her family and the Notts really had. 

But here she was, two weeks after meeting her frigid fiancé, learning that the glass of water in her hand would be her last as a free woman, and everything inside her was screaming for her to get out. How could they deceive her like this? Not only to be forced into a marriage, but blindsided by the actual wedding before she even had a chance to…

To what? she wondered frantically. To tell Ominis she loved him? He already knew a hundred times over, but as she looked across the room to him, she saw the same hard lines carved into his face that were always present when they had to discuss her betrothal.

“Do you hate me for it?” “Hate you? How could I?” A pause, and a bitter expression settled on his lips. “I hate him.”

“I hate him, too, but I can’t do anything to stop this.”

“We could run.”

“Be serious, Ominis.”

“I am.” She felt his hands close over hers and looked down at them. His were covered in scars and burns, faded and gray with age but still a part of him forever. 

“They’d kill you.”

“I’ll be dying either way, my heart.”

Her body ached for Ominis as she watched his jaw tighten further and further with every word Thelonius Nott said. She couldn’t believe he had come to this event. He’d been invited, of course, as had his entire family, but she had hoped for his sake that he would stay away and not have to endure this with her.

When the patriarch lifted his champagne (“To my son,” he said fondly, not sparing a glance at his future daughter-in-law) and commanded the rest of the room to do so, a hundred glasses flew into the air. 

Ninety-nine, at least.

She hoped no one would notice the younger Gaunt boy abstaining from the toast, but at the same time, she preened inwardly. Ominis may have been soft-spoken and calculating in what he chose to say, but his actions always broadcasted his feelings. 

“Excuse me,” she muttered suddenly, surprising Louis and herself by pushing her chair back and standing up. The rest of the party had gone back to their dessert, so hardly any notice was paid to her as she wove through the tables, save for a few well-wishes tossed at her that she returned with a weak smile. As she passed the Gaunt table, where Ominis’ parents and brothers were talking in low tones, she threw a glance back at the head table that she’d been at, making sure no one could see what she did next.

She tripped, just a quick, stuttered movement orchestrated by stepping on the train of her dress, and grabbed onto Ominis’ chair for support

“Are you alright?” squawked a man behind her that she’d bumped slightly. Before the Gaunts could look up from their plates and notice her standing there, she ran a finger subtly up the back of Ominis’ neck and twirled the small curl of hair on his nape around, just once. It took less than a second, but Ominis stiffened immediately, his breath cutting out and his fork falling to his plate with a clatter.

“Please,” she whimpered under her breath, quiet enough so that no one but him heard her. 

She felt him before she saw him.

“Om–” He cut her off and pressed her to the brick wall of the alley behind the restaurant, where she’d fled after stopping at his table. She hoped he’d had the good sense to wait a few beats before following her, but she also knew the effect that her touch had on him. She’d been rubbing his neck like that since they were sixteen, a silent way to let him know that she was next to him, with him, there for him. 

It didn’t hurt that it also drove him wild. 

She knew it was a horrible idea. Sneaking out of her engagement party to fuck another man when her fiancé’s family had people killed for much less, but her mind was such a whirlwind of fear and anxiety and the only thing she wanted was the feel of Ominis’ mouth against hers. Her constant, her grounding.

“Don’t do this,” he was moaning into her lips, grinding his hips against hers as she clutched at his suit like she would float away if she didn’t. “I’ll never stop needing you, so please–” “I don’t want to!” she gasped. Tears were pooling in her eyes, and she was grateful for a moment that Ominis could not see them. “More than anything, I want to be with you, you know that.”

“Then let me take you away from here.” Ominis felt around the back of her dress to determine how best to remove it. She swatted his hands away and took his face in her hands. Words wouldn’t come to her. All she wanted was to look at him like this, desperate and frazzled, his perfect silver hair already tousled. His pale eyes saw her in a way no sighted person ever had.

She pulled him into a kiss, softer and sweeter than before, and he groaned and pulled his fingers through her hair, inadvertently combing it, and she hiccuped a small giggle. 

“You can’t help but take care of me, can you, Mr. Gaunt?” 

“I can’t, Mrs. Gaunt.”

Hearing the title fall from his lips made her heart soar and plummet in the same breath. 

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded as he began kissing his way down her neck to the top of her cleavage. They’d talked about marriage, of course they had, but that had been lifetimes ago, when they were happy young things who didn’t know what cruelty life had in store for them. She’d even once filled a piece of parchment with the words “Madame Gaunt” in elegant flourishes, and when Ominis had found it in her school bag, he hadn’t stopped smiling for a week. After he’d finished teasing her, naturally.

“I won’t call you anything else,” he promised stubbornly. 

A shriek of laughter came from inside the restaurant, followed by a tinkle of broken glass. The noise shattered their isolated little bubble and they both stared at the back door they’d used to enter the alley. “They’ll notice me gone,” she whispered, feeling suddenly small underneath Ominis’ tall, lean body. “Or someone will walk out here and find us and–”

Ominis never gave her orders, preferring instead to worship the ground she walked on, but as he knelt down to grasp the hem of her dress, he said, “Stop it. Be quiet. If this is my last night with you, I won’t let anyone take it away from me.” He pulled the dress up so it bunched around her waist and slithered one hand inside her undergarments, and any protestations that she might have made fell off her lips, dead. 

His long fingers slid on top of her clit and rubbed them like he had all the leisure time in the world. Her core flooded, soaked after mere seconds with him, and the feeling made Ominis’ head drop to rest against her forehead. 

“Let me ask you once more,” he breathed.

“No.”

“Please.”

“Ominis, they–” Her words were cut off as he pushed two fingers inside her and pumped slowly.

“Let me ask,” he said again, and this time, it was not a request.

Pleasure was wringing her out and weakening the little resolve she had. “Ask me,” she consented with a whimper.

“Run away with me. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, show you anything you want to see, and we’ll be together.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her. It wasn’t the second; in fact, she’d lost count of how many times he had begged and pleaded with her to flee their lives and go somewhere where they could live as they wanted. It had become his way of saying “I love you.” 

It was everything she wanted, and she would never do it. She still remembered when her father had found her holding a letter from Ominis and ripped it out of her grasp. 

“If I see you anywhere near that boy or having anything to do with him, I’ll kill him,” he had growled as he ripped Ominis’ words to shreds and threw them into the fireplace. “And Thelonius Nott will do a lot worse, you can count on that.”

“Ominis, I can’t, I just can’t,” she sobbed, half in anguish and half in pleasure as he continued fucking her with his fingers and mouthing along her flushed neck. “I swear, I want nothing more, but I won’t put you in danger.” His hand slowed, but he said nothing. The white heat twisting itself in a coil in her stomach threatened to unravel and she whimpered. 

“I don’t care about any of that,” Ominis said. He pulled out of her and stuck the two fingers covered in her wetness into her mouth. Her own taste against her tongue made her moan shamelessly, and Ominis drank the sound down like the finest wine. He pulled her into another kiss, and she felt his erection grind against her core. A sudden thought floated into her lust-hazy head and she pushed hard against his shoulders to stop his kiss. 

“You know, I don’t know much about Louis Nott, but I know how he likes his women,” she said, gritting her jaw in annoyance at her intended.

She could tell that her lover bristled at the mention of Nott, but he raised his eyebrows. “And how does he like them?”

“Thirty galleons for the night.” He sucked in a breath that might have been a laugh in any other situation. “Darling, I may have to read vows that someone else wrote tomorrow,” she continued, nerves making her shake slightly, “But let me make my own now, please.” Ominis furrowed his brow. 

She took a deep breath. Ominis’ face was still there, in that church in her mind, but that church was now a brick-paved alleyway behind a restaurant in Diagon Alley. The only guests were a few curious rodents that kept their distance and the only decor were some potholes filled with water from the rain that afternoon and a streetlamp whose flame spluttered feebly every few seconds. 

And it was perfect. 

Taking his hands in hers, she took a deep breath and released it. “Ominis Gaunt, I will love you with everything inside me until the day I leave this earth to meet you again in heaven.” Ominis was silent, or maybe speechless. “And…” 

She took his right hand by the wrist and pressed it against her heart, which was hammering wildly. “No other man will ever have my body. It’s yours.”

“It’s yours,” Ominis replied, and the simple statement made her choke. It wasn’t true, never had been. Since birth, she’d been used as cannon fodder in her family’s war for power. For anyone to give her autonomy felt like being a timid, scared little bird released from its cage for the first time. She leaned in to kiss him, but he sensed her nearness and held a hand in front of his lips that hers landed against, and she gave a small grunt of frustration. 

“My turn now,” he whispered. He bit his lip, pulling it through his teeth for a long second as he considered something. Then, in one fluid motion, he pressed her back against the wall, pulled her underwear down her waist, pulled his aching and dripping cock from his trousers, and grabbed at her thighs. With a little yelp, she realized what he was doing and accommodated him, wrapping her legs around his waist. His hard cock pressed at her entrance and the two panted with desperation for a moment. Ominis seemed to be fighting the urge to fuck her before he got his words out. 

“You are my heart. Every day, when I wake up, I thank the gods for giving me you, and then I curse them for taking you away.” She couldn’t make a sound, wound too tightly by the desire to feel him inside her. “There is nothing in this world that could keep me away from you, except at your word.” His cadence was that of a prayer, and as she was considering what he said, he pushed his cock into her, holding her ass to guide himself inside, and the two moaned in mutual pleasure. He was so thick, so full inside her, and when he began moving, bouncing her back against the wall with one hand braced up beside her glistening face, her mouth fell open. 

“Fuck, darling,” she cried. “I–fuck, I love you so much.” 

The extraordinarily touch-sensitive Ominis couldn’t continue his vows for a long while, clearly too caught up in the feeling of her cunt wrapped around him. His mouth was agape as well, and his cloudy eyes were wild and frantic. He fucked her slow, then fast, then slow again, dragging himself in and out in agonizing torture and muttering in drunken reverence about how tight she was.

“Even if I never see you again, not an ounce of my love will be found missing,” he swore through his teeth once he was able to speak again. “And if you ever crave the freedom they all deny you, I will give it to you in an instant. We’ll run, anywhere, and we’ll do it hand-in-hand, my heart.” His thrusts were losing rhythm, the extra flood of slick from her core making him slip out of her a few times, but he righted himself and tried to give her everything he was promising. The feeling of slamming down on his cock was enough to drive her senseless. The muted sounds of their fucking filled the alleyway and echoed off the damp brick wall.

He reached down between their intertwined, sweating bodies and pressed one torturing finger against her clit as he muttered, “My fucking perfect wife.” An orgasm tore through her like a wildfire and she screamed, so hard that Ominis shoved his extra hand into her mouth so she could bite it and silence herself. He supported her with just his hips as he rubbed her clit gently through the blaze. Her teeth were still sunk in his hand when he came with a groan and a sigh, thrusting his load languidly inside her. 

If she’d been able to notice anything, she might have noticed that it seemed Ominis was more than usually determined to fuck every drop into her and make sure it stayed there. After several minutes of panting and murmured kisses and affection while Ominis leaned against her, he pulled off and out of her, and she slumped to the ground before he caught her, his own legs looking slightly wobbly, as well. He felt her dress and hair, smoothing any wrinkles and knots his fingers found.

“You really won’t sleep with him?” he asked her in a small voice she’d never heard before, and her eyes flew to his to see a vulnerable and heartbroken Ominis she wasn’t familiar with. 

It was a very easy promise to make. “As long as I have any say in it,” she whispered back, pressing their foreheads together once more and drawing a tiny, hopeful smirk to his lips. “I don’t think it will be much of a problem, though.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“I charge thirty-five galleons for the night.” She held out an open palm and tapped him in the chest with it so he knew that she was waiting for payment. Ominis actually laughed, and the sound bolstered her. The prospect of walking down the aisle to meet Louis tomorrow seemed significantly less terrifying now.

“We ought to get you back inside,” he said, but before she could agree and wonder at how long the two had been gone, Ominis had scooped her into his arms, ignoring her cry and giggle, and drew an invisible line on the ground with his toe.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“The doorstep,” he replied simply, and carried her over it.

masterlist

[danielsarmand]

thinking about armand being in the trenches during all of season one. thinking about him wanting to be close to the interview, sure, but also just to daniel. thinking about him wanting to soak up his presence and energy and struggling to maintain a stoic, detached façade—not only because of his rashid pretense, but also and more importantly because he's the only custodian of their memories. daniel does not remember him and it's better that way, it's what he wanted, but also... restraining from falling back into their old conversational patterns is hard. and when the acting gig is up and he shows himself, even then he has to pretend. but you can see it, sometimes, how much he wants them to be what he remembers they can be. daniel is so close yet so far, and armand is trapped between him, louis and their shared history. he brought it on himself, sure, but still—it must be hard to exist in a world where the love of your life never knew you.