#never seen Marius smile so much

[thecharacterchronicler]

The Bitter Taste Of My Fury (Part 4) || Coriolanus Snow X Reader || Smut

GIF is not mine, credits to the creator/owner ❤️

Outline: After a vicious attack from the rebels, Coriolanus lets some of his true feelings for you show.

Word count: 5’133

Warnings: death, murder, PTSD and explicit smut.

Author’s note: I wrote this forever ago and can’t seem to be 100% satisfied with it for some reason, I’m feeling awfully self conscious putting this out so please have mercy on me.

I made a few changes to the original story so that it would fit with my fanfic. (Making the quarter quell for which they sent two boys and two girls the 25th one instead of the 50th so that Coriolanus and his wife’s ages would fit into my plot.) I tried to make it readable as a one shot but keep in mind that it’s actually part of a multi-part series if you need/want more context.

It would help me out a lot with my next WIPs if you could answer the poll down below 🖤

((Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler)) - ((Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top)) - ((Part 3 - Insatiable)) - (( Part 5 - Craving ))

Coriolanus risked a glance from behind the black curtain to survey the large amphitheater quickly - and noisily - filling up. It was his last speech before the day of the election, his last opportunity to convince the people of Panem that he would be a good president. He had been working on his text for weeks, the last few days he had even stayed up all night to practice and memorize it to the point that the words were constantly turning in his head. He was nervous and, even if he usually was pretty good at hiding it - he felt like all the citizens taking place in the room to listen to him would notice how much he was afraid of messing up.

“You’re supposed to go on stage in five minutes.” Minerva said, Coriolanus’s young assistant was stressed out, as per usual. “Excuse me Sir, but I couldn’t help but notice that your wife isn’t here… Yet ?”

The last time Coriolanus had seen you, you both got into an argument which ended with him, fucking you rougher than what he ever allowed himself to until then. Once he was done with you, you still seemed upset with him and the reason of the dispute still grated on his nerves. For the three following days, he had spent his nights at his office. He had been mulling over what your strong feelings about such a futile matter might mean. He had expected you to be unhappy with his decision to fire Marius, your driver, but he hadn’t thought you’d be so vocal about it, even daring to demand that he be rehired. He had fired a lot of his employees in the past and you had never complained about it once, but your personal driver seemed more important to you than all the others… Was it because you had an affair with him ? Was he the one to provide you with comfort and attention whenever Coriolanus worked late ? And what if he was the one who ended up getting you pregnant ? Surely he couldn’t accept that. His heir needed to be his.

“I sent Alastair to get her an hour ago, they should arrive any minute now.” He replied, his tone unexpectedly soft in contrast to his growing irritation. But he had faith that his own driver would drag you out of the manor himself if you refused to attend such an important event for your husband.

Coriolanus glanced in the amphitheater once again, scanning the crowd in search of your familiar face but still didn’t find it. He tugged on his collar, feeling more stressed than ever before. He knew every word to his speech, he knew exactly how to behave, how to move, how to smile to win this once and for all and yet, beads of nervous sweat were forming on his forehead, his tie suddenly too constricting for his rapid breathing.

When Minerva waved a hand at him, he had no choice but to take his place at the center of the stage, even if he still hadn’t spotted you among the crowd. It was unlikely of you to be late. And even less likely that his driver would be late… The applause and cheers from his audience as he walked out from behind the black curtain almost made him forget about it all though. For a brief moment, he felt the adrenaline buzzing in his body, making him believe that he was capable of anything and proving yet again that his place was there, on stage, at the center of everyone’s admirative attention.

He smiled, waved, spotted a few influential people seating in the first rows and made sure to make eye contact with each of them as he started his speech. His best one.

But no matter how perfect his tone was, how carefully chosen his words were, the crowd slowly began to grow agitated. A few heads turned to take a look at the doors, some noise coming from behind them and before he could even fathom what had happened, an intense blow pushed him back, making his ears ring.

The loud explosion made the foundations of the ampitheater tremble, windows shattered, pieces of the ceiling came crushing to the ground but the chaos that followed was by far the scariest part. People screamed in terror, rushing in every direction to get out, pushing and stepping over each other with no decorum left, the crowd had turned into a bunch of frightened animals and they all were individually fighting for their lives.

A door was opened and a thick dark smoke rapidly filled the room, making everyone cough and scream louder. Coriolanus pulled his collar over his mouth and nose, trying to filter the smoke he’d inhale and retreated behind the black curtain, knowing there would be a door for him to escape much more easily there, out of the frenzy and chaos of the crowd.

He rushed to the back, fleeing by the concealed door while his people kept fighting to escape the suffocating smoke. He looked around, trying to get his thoughts back in order to come up with a plan, he needed to find a way to warn your driver about what had happened, so that he could avoid bringing you straight into danger. Better yet, he could drive you far away from it.

He walked in hurried steps while the people who had managed to escape ran away, the magnificent and imposing capitol building menacing to completely shatter and tumble down into dust. Leaving and reaching the street outside was the best course of action to ensure his safety, but a part of him with visibly no instinct of survival, remained determined to look around in search of a phone or whatever device he could use to warn you. To make sure you’d be safe.

He reached the front desk of the town hall, searching among the fallen bricks and thick layers of rubble with the hope to find something that would work to contact your driver…

Alastair ?

Coriolanus blinked a few times, stopping his frenetic search of the desk to stare at the silhouette running to the doors, recognizing the bald head and small frame of his driver.

“Alastair ?!” He called, as loud as he could to be heard above the distant screams and cries. The man turned around to look at him, fear appearing in his eyes when he recognized his boss… So he kept running.

Coriolanus took off after him, his tall legs giving him a clear advantage to catch up on the older man. He pushed him aside, grabbing him by his collar and slammed him against a dangerously unstable pillar.

“Where is my wife ?” He asked, leveling his face with his so that he could stare at him with his most menacing look.

“The rebels, they attacked… It was an explosion.” Alastair mumbled, inconherently. Coriolanus purposely slammed him against the hard surface again, hoping the shock it caused to his head would bring him back to his senses.

“WHERE IS MY WIFE ?!” He shouted, making it clear that if he had to ask again he might knock him unconscious instead.

“I don’t know, it exploded… The smoke… I ran.”

“You left her ?!” Your husband asked him, rage dangerously starting to take over at the realization that the one he had trusted with your security had so easily left you behind to save his own life.

“I have a family.” Alastair justified, his voice weakening and his breathing coming out raucous and labored. What was that supposed to mean ? That he was more important than you because he had children ? Was he implying that you didn’t deserve to live as much as he did because you hadn’t gave him a heir yet ?

Coriolanus’s gaze fell to his hands, the ones he was holding tightly around his driver’s neck, squeezing with all the strength of his rage. The older man started choking, tried to fight his employer off but he wasn’t strong enough and the shock of the whole situation didn’t help him think rationally enough to hope win this fight for his life.

Tighter.

Alastair’s face became alarmingly pale.

Tighter.

Alastair’s lips turned blue.

Tighter.

Alastair’s body dropped down on the floor.

Dead.

Coriolanus took a step back, watching the limp figure on the ground with clear disgust but he wasn’t sure if he felt it because Alastair had abandoned you or for himself, for adding someone else’s blood to his already stained hands.

There was no time to ponder his actions anyway. The judgment of his morals would have to wait until he found you and got you to safety. It was all that mattered. So, while people were still running out of the falling apart building, he ran back in, straight towards the thick smoke.

He called your name, so desperate to hear your voice answering him but the fleeing crowd was way too loud and agitated for him to hope hearing it and let it lead him to you. But he kept shouting anyway.

Some of his employees found him, tried to convince him to turn around and leave before the ceiling would collapse on him but he refused, determined to find you, even with the smoke burning his lungs and irritating his eyes.

His head was spinning, if the first people he had ran into were wearing their formal attire, slowly he started recognizing the red academy uniforms he used to wear every day. Then, he noticed the colors of a rainbow dress, fading in the thick smoke in front of him. A long time ago, the person wearing it had ran to him to save him from a similar situation, now she seemed to be running away, impossible for him to catch.

Was she the one who had led this violent attack against him ? And now she was here, running around the debris like an untouchable wild animal just to taunt him ? Of course she did. All she ever wanted was to end him. Ruin his life. Ruin everything.

Real or not, he followed her path, desperate to see where she would lead him. He didn’t like the feeling it gave him though, the feeling of being an eighteen years old boy who knew nothing about anything anymore. A naive man, who thought his survival depended on other people rather than on himself.

“Coryo…” Your voice called, answering his calls.

He perked up with a renewed determination to make his way through the smoke and find you. Rainbow colors and blood red uniforms faded from his vision. You were close, so he kept shouting your name, frantically searching around him until he collided against you.

He knew your body well enough by now to instantly recognize you, no one fitted in his arms the way you did. He looked down at you, trying to decipher wether you were injured or not but the dust covering your skin and hair made it hard to spot any trace of blood. He turned around, wanting to go back on his footsteps now that your hand was secured in his but he stopped when he noticed you could barely keep up, limping and coughing after each wince of pain that deformed your face.

Without a word, he came back to you and picked you up, carrying you in his arms even if his lungs were about to give up too. If he was going to die today, so be it but not before he got you out of there.

A plea for help resounded next to you, the barely visible shape of a woman stuck under a heavy pillar outstretching an arm in your direction, begging for her life. Coriolanus looked at her but kept walking, collateral damages were inevitable.

Finally, the smoke started dissipating, replaced by fresh air that burned your lungs in an entirely different way. A large crowd had formed in the street, kept at good distance from the collapsing building by peacekeepers. Many pairs of curious eyes turned to you, recognizing the presidential candidate heroically carrying his wife away from a vicious rebel attack. Some peacekeepers approached, freeing your husband’s arms to carry you to safety. They brought you to a medical tent that had been set up, where professionals and volunteers were running around, trying to care for the many injured and wounded victims.

An oxygen mask was placed on your face, providing you with the air you so desperately needed while a young woman tried to make you as comfortable as possible despite her apparent overwhelm.

“I’ll find some oxygen for you too, Sir.” She promised Coriolanus but he shook his head, refusing.

“Take care of my wife first.” He asked, and the woman nodded before scurrying away.

Time seemed to slow down as Coriolanus spent countless hours in the armchair next to your hospital bed, watching over you, making sure you were taken well care of and mulling over his thirst for revenge. The rebels had crossed a line with this attack, they were clearly targeting him - and you - with it and that was simply unacceptable. His desire to become the new president of Panem was consuming him more than ever, thinking about the possibilities such a position would offer him to retaliate in kind against the districts. He could order the troops to bomb them, erase them from the map and the surface of the earth. He could decide of the fate of the very ones who committed the crime to try and kill him, he could set an example of what doom would be brought upon anyone who ever tried to hurt a Snow again… But he wasn’t president, yet.

However, his position as head gamemaker of the Hunger Games gave him quite a unique chance to keep the districts in check and remind them who truly held the power, after all, he had learned all the tricks from Doctor Gaul during the few years he had been working for her. He knew the only way to get his message to the rebels would be to answer in kind and make sure they’d know the fear of potentially loosing someone precious to them too…

A few days later, the doctors cleared you to go home so he decided to go back to his office and put his plan in motion.

As soon as he sat behind his desk, Minerva entered his office, holding a large file against her chest.

“I received the official report of the incident.” She announced, handing him the paper. He flipped the pages, brows furrowed and eyes rapidly darting across each paragraph.

“Twenty four deaths… And counting.” He read out loud.

“And I’m very sorry to tell you that I was informed that Alastair is among the victims.” She told him, which caused him to look at her, gravity etched on his face.

He had the perfect reaction. Not too emotional. Still professional. Believable.

“Do we know what happened to him exactly ?”

“The coroner said he died of asphyxiation from the smoke, like many others unfortunately.”

“It’s unfortunate indeed.” Coriolanus nodded, with a forced frown. “Make sure to send our condolences to his family.”

“Of course, Sir.” His assistant said, taking notes. “Anything else i can do ?”

“Yes… Call the press, I have an important announcement to make.” He stated, still more determined than ever to make everyone involved pay for what they did.

“And now, a message from Coriolanus Snow, head gamemaker of the Hunger Games and candidate for presidency.” The news anchor announced, as the camera zoomed in on your husband’s tired face, his brow furrowed and severity marking his traits.

“On Friday, people of the Capitol were the target of a terrible attack from an outlawed and violent group of radical people. We’ve lost precious lives and many of our citizens were gravely wounded during the attack.” Coriolanus spoke, solemnly, as the cameras shifted between different point of views of him. His voice was calm despite the rage displayed on his face. “Therefor, in retaliation, as head gamemaker, I have decided to make the 25th edition of the Hunger Games one that will remind everyone of the Capitol’s power… For this first quarter quell, each district will be required to send two boys and two girls into the arena.”

You watched your husband’s press conference on the television in the quiet and lonely living room of the manor, jaw dropping at his announcement. Was he taking advantage of the attack to give a lesson to the district, show his almighty power and advance his presidential campaign by gaining the Capitol’s support ? Or was he seeking out revenge for you ? Your chest tightened at the thought, could he care about you enough to be doing this for you ? Imagining you could be one of the reasons - among a thousand more important ones - for the punishment he decided to impose on the districts made your heart beat faster. With a husband so shy for words, a gesture like this one would speak volumes about how he truly felt.

You reached for the remote with a wince and turned the TV off, plunging the living room in darkness apart from the faint light coming from the crackling fire in the chimney. You stood with another wince, silently cursing at the doctors for sending you home without any meds to manage the pain you still felt so vividly in your body. If you had been a simple citizen, surely they would have kept you there longer, made sure that you were fully healed before letting you leave the private sector of the Capitol’s hospital but since the crowd of reporters, cameras and photographers was increasing with each passing day by the entrance of the hospital, they took the decision to send you home. Officially, it was meant to reassure Panem about the health of their potential future First Lady, show them you were as strong and courageous as your husband. But really, they just wanted to get rid of the public disturbing their other patients‘ peace.

You climbed the stairs leading to your bedroom slowly, and then sat at your vanity with a sigh. The reflection in front of you didn’t do justice to how you really felt. As soon as you had been discharged, a team invaded your room to make you look as flawless as you were always supposed to be, taking care of your hair, your makeup, your clothes, hiding any trace of the attack so that you could walk out, dazzling and smiling for the cameras. And of course you did just that. You managed to answer a few questions shouted at you with elegance and respect , offering sympathy to the ones who had suffered more than you did , smiling as some children handed you flowers and holding your head high just to let the rebels know that it would take more than this to bring Mrs Snow down.

But deep inside, you were a wreck. Images of the attack kept popping in your mind, you could still smell the smoke, feel it filling your lungs, suffocating you. You could still hear the screams, the cries, the shouts and the explosions. You could still feel the sharp pain in your shoulder when the column behind you collapsed and a heavy piece of marble hit you. You still had the bruises and the scratches on your skin from all the debris that flew in your face, even if they currently were hidden under a thick layer of makeup.

You slowly took it all off with a wipe, feeling almost relieved at the sight of the purple mark on your cheek and the other one on your neck, like a validation that you weren’t feeling so bad for nothing. You reached up to untie the sophisticated hairdo your beauty team had insisted on doing, but the sharp pain in your shoulder combined to the stiffness of your neck made it impossible to take more than two pins out before having to bring your arms down and take a deep breath to try and soothe the pain.

You had always considered yourself lucky to have such a big team of talented people to prepare you for every event you had to attend, sometimes they even got you ready and looking your best for simple shopping trips or private dinners if they expected you to be followed by reporters and photographers. But then, once the lights were out, the crowd long gone and the cameras pointed somewhere else, once you were back in the privacy and loneliness of your own home, then there wasn’t anyone to help you take off all this attire and help you be yourself again.

You were about to give up. At the moment, sleeping with twenty pins stabbing your scalp didn’t seem merely as painful as lifting your arm again did. But a movement in your mirror caught your attention. You lifted your eyes to the reflection, noticing a white silhouette, almost glowing in contrast to the darkness of your room, standing by the door, big blue eyes set on you.

You observed him quietly for a moment, unsure if he was really there or if it was yet another trick your mind was playing on you. Because you had a lot of visions of him lately. His face appearing in thick smoke. His voice shouting your name. His arms carrying you out of the chaos. His hand holding yours in the cold hospital room… You weren’t sure which memories were real or not. You couldn’t tell if he really had been by your side at the hospital this whole time or if you had just imagined his presence to reassure yourself. Were you imagining him there again so you wouldn’t feel so desperately lonely ?

“Let me help you with that.” He said, his tone softer than usual. He took the few steps in your direction, stopping behind you. You watched in the mirror as his fingers wandered in your hair in search of pins to take off, letting locks of hair fall down on your shoulders each time he removed one.

His touch was real. The heat you felt coming from his chest and radiating on your back was real. The expression of worry on his face every time he met your gaze in the reflection was real. He was real.

And instead of reassuring you like you thought it would, you suddenly felt invaded in your privacy to have him here, in your bedroom for the very first time. He shouldn’t see you like this, with your makeup off and your hair down, the bruises and the sorrow all too visible on your face. This wasn’t the image of the wife he had asked for. The wife who he wanted to impregnate. It was a pathetic reflection of a wounded and scared girl, wondering if she’ll ever be able to recover from such an horrific incident.

“I didn’t leave the hospital looking like this.” You felt compelled to say to justify how you looked in front of him, uncomfortable at the thought that it was the very first time he’d see you as you really were.

“I know, I watched the news from my office.” He simply said, focusing on finding the few last pins still tugging at your hair.

“And I watched your press conference.”

“What do you think about my idea for the quarter quell ?” His pale eyes found yours, silently gauging your reaction.

“I think a lot of people will love it, it’ll probably gain you many votes for the next round…”

“Probably but I meant what do you think about it ? Will it be a clear enough message to the districts that there will be hell to pay if they ever even think about hurting us again ?” He leaned closer, his breath brushing your ear. “Do you think all of Panem will now know that nobody hurts my wife without meeting the consequences ?”

You left out a breath, shocked by the rage you saw burning in his usually charming eyes. Either he was masterfully manipulative, wanting to make you believe that the decision he took to hold special games in retaliation was to avenge you, while it was, in fact, all about his career first. Either he really had done it for you, and the implications of such a revelation in regards to his true feelings for you were as terrifying to you as the first hypothesis was.

He remained quiet, removing his hands from your hair once he had pulled out the last pin and reached down to the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down with his pale eyes fixed to yours in the mirror.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he trying to help you ? The zipper being in your back, you probably would have struggled to reach it, but the way he was taking care of it, so torturously slow, the tip of his fingers grazing the soft skin he revealed on his path made you question his true motives.

He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your neck, exactly where your heart started pulsing wildly in reaction. He pulled the fabric of your dress down, until it pooled around your hips. You saw him take a look at your reflection in front of him, the sight of the bruise on your chest and the other one over your clavicle setting his fury ablaze. He balled his fists tightly, as if he was trying to contain himself so you turned around to face him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

You didn’t dare consider that the reason for his anger was because he cared about you enough… But the way he relaxed into your touch made you wonder if you should.

He kissed your lips. Softly. Gently. Almost reverently, as if he was taking the full measure of what he could have been deprived of for the rest of his life with a different outcome of the events of that night.

“I will kill them.” He declared, a cold determination in his tone you had never heard from him before. “I’ll kill every single person responsible for this.”

He moved his fingers over the purple bruise on your chest, a featherlight touch that still caused you a sting of pain, to mark his words.

You remembered a quote you had studied in school, it said something like “pain is the only thing that makes us feel alive.” And, since it was written in your book and taught by your professor, you had always considered it to be true… Until now. Now you knew that there wasn’t anything else on earth that could possibly make you feel more alive than Coriolanus Snow and the way he kissed you, touched you and filled you up. And no pain would be able to stop your determination of feeling alive tonight. Maybe his way to cope from the attack was to hunger for violence and blood, but yours was to live.

You leaned towards him and kissed him with more fervor than he did. He returned the kiss but kept some restraint from the usually hungry and rough way you were used to having him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He groaned, against your lips. “Not when you’re hurt and still recovering.”

“I’m not made of sugar.” You assured him, with a soft smile but he didn’t return it, moving away to look at you like he had seen a ghost. Did he have flashbacks of the attack too ? Or something else ? He’d probably never tell you anyway, because he shook it off before you could open your mouth and ask him if he was alright, worry leaving its place to resolve on his face.

He walked to your bed, stopping at the edge and scanning your nightstand carefully as he slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. Then, he looked around, his eyes taking a moment to consider each object, each piece of decoration in your bedroom. It was the first time he entered it and although the way he threw his shirt on the floor and began unfastening his belt suggested he had other plans than simply asking you for a tour, he still took in most of the details of the only place where you could find privacy in your own home.

You stood up, removing your dress too and feeling suddenly very exposed to him. Your room, your face without makeup, your hair undone, your bruised skin, everything you usually kept hidden from your husband was now on display for him to see and you felt self conscious about it.

“Lie down.” Coriolanus demanded, kicking his pants off, leaving him with nothing on but his bare body for you to stare at, his skin almost as white as the suits he liked to wear.

You obeyed, climbing on the bed from the opposite side from where he stood. You let your head fall down on your fluffy pillow, breathing a sigh of relief as you noticed how the many aches in your body were appeased by the comfortable mattress under you.

He climbed on the bed next to you and it felt somewhat strange to see him there, in your room, on your sheets, naked. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and gently pulled them down your legs, the lace fabric sending shiver down your spine on its way down your body.

He spread your legs open for him, and placed himself between them, sitting back on his knees. He looked at your bruises again so, instinctively, you tried to hide them with your arms and hands in fear that he might change his mind and leave you wanting. Thankfully, he had mercy for you and, even though he didnt seem quite sure about how to proceed this time - as if he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to tame his usual roughness - he slowly stroked the tip of his cock between your folds.

He guided it in circles, teasing your entrance every once in a while, pressing over your bud, spreading your growing wetness all over in its wake and you noticed how it made him harden too, his cock increasing in length and girth in his hand with each movement.

It didn’t take long for either of you to be ready for more. After all, it had been a whole week during which the only physical contacts you had shared was him holding your hand at the hospital or placing a chaste kiss on your forehead each time he had to leave you for a while, and that was if you hadn’t dreamed or imagined it.

No longer able to tease you, he ended up pushing his erected member inside you, finding its way in so easily it felt like you were made to fit him by now. He noticed it too, how easy it was for him to bury himself all the way in you until his balls were squeezed between your bodies and he sighed with contempt as your warm and wet pussy engulfed him fully.

You said his name in a panted breath, loving the way he filled you up with his hard cock and his eyes darted to yours, his gaze shining with lust. He moved, starting with short slides back and forth to make sure you could take it then, once he saw you close your eyes and bite your lip to conceal a moan, he got a bit rougher and faster, shoving himself back in with enough force to make the bed crack loudly.

“Yes!” You cried, as you felt his dick repeatedly hit the perfect spot so deep inside you, sending such pleasure through your entire body that you already felt close to coming undone. If there was any pain in your bruised body, you didn’t feel it anymore. All your mind could focus on was the intensity of his thrusts inside of you and the ecstasy building in your core in reaction.

He moved to hover over you, the change of angle making his strong movements even more intense. A moan fell from your lips but he silenced it with a hungry kiss, his taut chest pressing against yours.

He gathered you in his arms, holding your body tightly against his as he kept relentlessly thrusting inside you, swallowing all the moans that escaped from your lips with his desperate kisses.

You closed your legs around his hips, holding on to him as tightly as he was holding on to you. His thrusts lost their speed and intensity, but he still hit exactly where you needed him, making you whimper and moan with pleasure. His grip tightened and so did yours, both of you determined to never let each other go, him holding you like you might vanish at any moment and you holding him like your life depended on it.

He groaned, spilling his seed inside you with one powerful push. You dug your nails in his back, as his movements slowed down and your body contracted, your mind swimming in bliss.

He was panting, from his efforts and from the feverish kisses he kept giving you through it all. And yet he captured your lips with his again, in a much softer - almost loving - kiss. Then he set you free from his embrace, rolling on his side next to you and you istantly felt cold without the weight and warmth of his body on top of yours.

You shivered and he noticed, pulling the sheet over your numb body. You looked at him, wondering if he’ll stay the night. It would be the very first time you’d get to sleep with your husband. If the idea would have been dreadful to you just a year ago, now you wanted nothing more than to press your spent body against his and feel his presence as you drift off to sleep, knowing that you are safe with him by your side.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[zolass]

a kind of like soft smut with Marius Von Hagen and how he is actually pretty gently when it comes to other… things

THE DARLING OF VON HAGEN ···─Top! Marius Von Hagen x Bottom Male Reader

Summary: First you never thought you would get even close to the famous playboy from the Pax Group and son from Austin von Hagen. But things always take interesting turns in life. wc: 2.9k

tags: sub! reader, mostly just vanilla, fluff, first time, riding, pet names, younger Marius (1 year), Note: I wasn't too sure what to do with the request was it has a lot of things one could do with this, Marius is also probably OOC, but hope it's alright. It took me way too long bruh

You never really thought that you would be anywhere near close to someone like Marius von Hagen. A rich heir that has probably as much rumours and names swirling around, like designer clothes in his closet. 

Of course people say not to believe rumours about people you didn’t even meet, but it was rather hard as every day the news cast would report yet another woman hanging off of Hagen’s arm as if it was a new designer bag. So it was like a normal thing to believe that he is as they say, a playboy. 

But you were in for a shock as there was suddenly the same playboy standing in front of you, or more so it was rather more confusing as Marius looked rather shy, as he pushed you back into your dorm room before closing the door behind him. 

Your mouth opened and closed like the one of a fish, before you seemed to find your words to even utter a complain, “What the fuck?” was the only thing leaving your lips at the end. The taller male cleared his throat in obvious embarrassment, “I– actually wanted to do this differently but it wouldn’t be the best thing to be seen by others…” he said, as he scratched the back of his head, his purple eyes slightly downturned wanting to avoid your eyes.

But his words were confusing you even more, as he was the one to push you into your dorm for apparently no reason, which turned the confusion into annoyance. “You were the one to push me into my dorm, not the other way around. So excuse you?” your arms crossed over your chest, as your foot tapped irritated on the hardwood floor.

A sigh left Marius’ lips, as he seemed to finally have the courage to look at you. His purple eyes locked with your’s, “You’re right and I’m sorry for that but I rather have a– offer that would give both of us a benefit.” The other spoke, making your brows knit together. 

“What kind of offer?” You asked, and suddenly the usually confident male, looked hesitant, “I want you to be my date on a celebration, you would get paid for the few hours– and I don’t expect anything from you afterwards, you just have to be at my side,” Marius said, while he tried to fish his wallet out of his back pocket. You were silent, as you didn’t know how to respond and suddenly there were five grand in cash, right under your nose. You looked confused at the other. A small smirk played on his lips, “I’ll give you these now– and if you accept it, you’ll get ten grand every hour that you’re my date for the night,” Marius said.

Obviously it was a great deal, yet you couldn’t help the snort escaping you. “Why don’t you bribe one of the girls always hanging on your tail, like usual?” you asked, with a raised eyebrow. He seemed to think about how to answer, as he simply stared at you for a few seconds, before putting on a charming smile, “I didn’t feel like it, it would be too– bothersome.”

You didn’t say anything to that, a smirk formed on your lips as you pushed the money back toward his body, “Add another ten grand instead of these five– and we have a deal,” you said. A chuckle left Marius as his eyes stared in yours, “Then be ready tonight and– wear something nice,” were the last words from Marius before he left your dorm, with what seemed to be an extra pep to his step, but maybe your mind is just playing tricks with you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ────────────────────────

It was really a surprise how things change so easily, you were currently being led away by Marius, his hand holding yours tight, as he walked ahead through what almost seemed like a maze of corridors. He opened a door, and checked in it, before pulling you in. 

Your back was quickly facing the room, as large warm palms settled on both your cheeks. Purple eyes looked in yours, “Don’t listen to anything these people say. They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Marius spoke to you, while his thumb caressed your cheeks that slowly turned warm.

Oh yeah.. 

It seemed like a distant memory already, your mind wanting to push it as far back into the abyss of forgotten memories. You were always more attracted to men than women, of course women do have their charm, but not as much as men. Even though it’s pretty much normal now to see couples of the same gender walking around openly, some older generations do like to poison the minds of others.

The words the people said weren’t only directed at Marius, as it seemed to be a world wonder for him having a male as date, but there were also looks and distasteful words directed at you. Which Marius obviously got wind off and rather quickly excused the two of you before leaving into the next best secluded area. That’s how you found yourself now here, standing so close to the other, while his palms were caressing your cheeks.

You both were standing there in silence, until Marius stopped the caressing. He looked unsure, and before you could ask his voice already rasped out, “Can I– kiss you?” he asked in a hushed tone and to say you were taken aback. 

“Yes,” you croaked out without even thinking about it too much. You simply wanted to get a taste of his lips, maybe it was stupid as the chance of this simply being led by curiosity was higher than anything else.

Without wasting another second, Marius captured your lips with his own. A moan broke from your throat, only to be deafened by the kiss. Slowly one hand from Marius wandered down your body, to hug you closer by the waist. For Marius it felt like butterflies erupted in his stomach, regretting that he took so long to experience this. 

Your body  pressed against his, while your arms snaked around his neck pulling him closer to your lips. It was a long dream coming true for Marius. Did he fantasise how your lips would feel and taste? Yes. 

Slowly you both pulled away, just enough for you to take deep breaths. Gently Marius pressed his forehead against yours, his purple eyes half lidded, while he gazed at you. Taking in how you looked, the blush on your cheeks or the small tilting up at the corner of your lips. 

He was so lost in admiring you, he only watched dazed as your mouth moved, before your eyes opened. A playful glint in your eyes, which seemed to pull Marius out of his admiring, “What?” he asked, making a chuckle leave you. 

Marius’ heart was beating quickly as he watched you dumbfounded, “Do you always keep your date this close?” you asked in a teasing tone, but inside your stomach started to twist uncomfortably, it was stupid but you did have kind of an attraction towards Marius. 

“No.. you’re my special one,” he said these words without hesitation, and you couldn’t help but get flustered. Your cheeks heated up more by his words, and before either of you could say anything else, you pulled him into another slow and passionate kiss. 

Marius couldn’t help but feel happy at this moment, the one person, a guy, he wanted to get closer to, was now wrapped in his arms while your lips connected all over again. His hands were circling your waist, before he slowly manoeuvred you backwards, until you hit the edge of the bed. 

Surprised you fell down onto the cushioned surface, there was a short silence between the two of you, both unsure on what to say. “Ever spent a night with a guy?” you suddenly asked, surprising both of you. 

Your mouth faster than you put the words together in your head. Marius couldn’t help but knit his brows together, a shy look taking over, he didn’t know what to do with his hands, as they were basically frozen in the air where your waist was, just moments ago. Slowly he stood with his back straight, as he lifted his palm, to cover the lower half of his face, before he shook his head. “I didn’t,” he rasped out in the end. 

“Did you?” was the quick question back, and all you did was shake your head no as well. 

Marius seemed to get another, even if small, confidence boost as he lowered his hand, “Do you want to?” he asked. Without even having to think too much about it, which was rather dumb, you nodded. Marius leaned down, caging you in between his arms, as your breath mingled together. “Is it your– first time… like are you-” you interrupted the taller male, “A virgin? Yes,” you simply answered the unspoken question. 

He took in a sharp breath, Marius’ mind going rampant. He would be your first– the blush on his cheeks was turning darker, “Then– I’ll take care of you,” he whispered against your lips, as he leaned closer. 

You simply nodded, your eyes jumping from his slightly swollen lips, back to the violet eyes, “Please do,” you whispered, and these words seemed to be the go for him, to kiss you again. For Marius it felt like he couldn’t get enough of your lips, as he took his time. Before he started to kiss down your jaw, slowly unbuttoning your shirt before trailing kisses down to your collarbone. 

Quickly helping him at getting your shirt off, you felt his warm mouth on your exposed skin. His tongue flicks over your nipples, before continuing to kiss your torso, all the while he mutters against your skin how soft it feels underneath his lips and fingers, and how beautiful you are. You blushed as his words sent blood straight down to your crotch, creating a bulge against your slacks.

Marius noticed the obvious bulge, and all he did was press a kiss on it, before the next thing sliding off of your body were your pants. He looked up at you, as you were only sitting there in your underwear. You gave him a shy nod, and watched as he slowly pulled the last fabric off you.

Your average sized dick sprang free, gently hitting your stomach as precum smeared on your skin. Unable to even close your legs, as Marius already placed his own leg between yours, you could only endure the way his eyes trailed every inch of your body, soaking it all in, making the embarrassment flare up inside of you. 

“It’s not fair– I’m already naked and you’re still wearing everything,” you said, while looking away. A chuckle left Marius, as he was rather surprised at himself being so– lost in his own thoughts while he admired your body. “Sorry darling– I got distracted by your sheer beauty.” Marius said, while he watched how you react to his words and the sudden name he gave you.

And it was definitely worth it, the redness reaching the tip of your ears, as you bit your lower lip, while just a small shiver rushed through your body and the twitch of your leaking cock. 

Gently he took your chin in his hand, slowly making you look at him again, and as you did, he leaned back. Yet his leg stayed between yours. “Then engulf the view, just like I did.” Marius said, before he started to undress before your attentive eyes.

And by god, did he love it. It didn’t take long for him to drop the last piece of clothing beside the bed, before he stayed where he was just for a bit longer, letting your eyes take everything in. But before he returned to you on the bed, he quickly walked to the nightstand, pulling the cabinet open. For the first time he rather thanked whoever that the rich people were rather– special in many cases, as he found lube in the cabinet. Making his way back to you, he swiftly opened the cap.

He lubed up his fingers, before throwing the bottle aside. As he moved back between your legs, you were more nervous now. Before he started to prep you, he started to distract you as best as he could with kisses and words.

It didn’t take long until you were panting, your cock dripping more and more precum, while Marius was rock hard just by the moans of pleasure flowing from your lips. A whine left your lips, “‘wanna ride you,” you said which surprised the other. 

His purple eyes trained on you, “are you sure?” he asked, but you only nodded. A quick okay came from the man that was about to take your virginity, as he walked around the bed to sit against the headboard. Slowly you crawled over to his form, and Marius swore he could’ve just come on the spot, as you looked so sexy– seductive and simply so beautiful.

As you were right in front of him, he helped you to hover above his aching cock, as he caressed your hips and waist. Yet instead of focusing his eyes on the closeness of your hole and his cock, he looked up at you. His eyes flickering over your expression, “We don’t have to do it, the night is already unforgettable. Don’t force yourself-” he started, yet you spoke up quickly, “But I want it– just as much as you apparently.”

Marius leaned forward placing a kiss on your chest, “If you’re completely sure,” he whispered, before he slowly helped you down on his cock. As his tip breached the tight rim, Marius had to hold himself back to not just cum. While you let out short gasps, the burning sensation of being slowly stretched on Marius’ cock. 

As he was fully in your hole, you leaned against him chest to chest, while your face was snug against his neck. Your arms were also wrapped lazily around his neck, one arm was draped over your waist, while the other caressed your thigh and hip. 

You leaned slightly back, and without a word you both shared another kiss, slow and gentle. He placed both his hands on your hips, as you slowly started to move up and down on his dick, breathy moans and groans left both of you, as Marius helped you ride his cock. 

It continued like that, and if you were honest it was better than you thought your first time would be, and for Marius it was mostly the fact that it was you. Even though he’s not a virgin, it was his first time with a man too. “‘m cum– cumming.. Nhg-” you moaned, and it took only a few more hits to your prostate, before you moaned loudly. Cum spurting out of your tip, as your back arched and your eyes rolled back slightly.

Your hole clenched tightly around the long cock, while Marius continued to chase his release, as he thrusted up into you, hitting your prostate over and over again, before he came with a groan. His cum painted your hole white, as one warm load was pumped into you. 

Both of your sweaty bodies clung together, as you catched your breath’s. “Thank you, Mar.” you mumbled against his shoulder, all the while he held you in his arms, rubbing your back soothingly. “I should thank you too, darling,” Marius whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear.

There was a peaceful silence between the two of you, “Round two?” you asked suddenly, and Marius couldn’t help but chuckle. “Insatiable, darling?” he shot back teasingly, making you also chuckle. “For you? Probably always,” you confessed, heart beating quickly. The arms around you tighten, “Then it’s good that I’m just as insatiable for you, darling.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ────────────────────────

Remembering the time, where you both basically confessed to each other, after having sex before an official date, that Marius had originally planned, you were now sitting with the same man on the couch. Rings snug on both your fingers, as you watched the oldest son of Austin von Hagen, Giann von Hagen, get scolded by his own fiance.

A chuckle came from the right, where Austin was seated, watching the same spectacle unfold before his very own eyes. You leaned against your husband of one year and boyfriend of four, who simply pulled you closer with the arm wrapped around you, before placing a kiss on your head. His thumb caressed the back of your hand, which laid in his larger palm, “Want to get out of here?” he asked you in a whisper, and you simply nodded.

As the two of you got up, you caught the attention of Austin, who simply raised an eyebrow, “We’re going to be back before dinner,” Marius quickly spoke, before pulling you out of the living room and mansion. A small chuckle came from the elderly man, while he shook his head, he couldn’t help but be happy for his children, having found love just like he did once.

Purple eyes glanced at the large portrait of a beautiful woman, “I hope you can see from above what fine young men our son’s became,” he mumbled. “Where did they go?” the confused voice of Giann snapped Austin out of his thoughts, the older man simply smiling, “Enjoying their youth,” Austin simply answered, and chuckled as he watched his eldest son roll his eyes, “They better be back before dinner,” before returning to his significant other.

[asexualenjolras]

This is an appreciation post for Adam Colbeck-Dunn's Grantaire (24/25 West End cast) and his PANIC ATTACK AND BREAKDOWN during the barricades.

His Grantaire is so wide-eyed during Red & Black, he's so smiley and he jumps around the stage like a lamb in spring. He tries desperately to get Enjolras' attention, and he watches him so intently. And then he loses that innocent, child-like smile the moment it's announced that Lamarque has died. He grabs hold of Gavroche and shields him away from the others with so much concern.

And then there's the barricades...

Not only does he breakdown after Drink With Me and push Enjolras' hug away, he openly sobs in Gavroche's arms before sliding down against the wall to calm down.

He, again, scoffs and pushes Enjolras away after Eponine dies, and sits on the bench beside Marius to comfort him (stroking his shoulder and telling him he's sorry).

And when the battle starts again, he situates himself on the bench and watches everything around him with so much disbelief and pain on his face. He sits there still until Gavroche runs across the barricade, and then he jumps up and SCREAMS "no" at the top of his lungs. He's reassured by Marius and he is so relieved when Gavroche is okay ... until he isn't. And then he visibly pales and carries Gavroche's body so gently to his resting place, and delicately lays him down on the floor.

AND THEN HE CURLS UP ON THE FLOOR BESIDE GAVROCHE IN A FETAL POSITION AND JUST SOBS AS THE FIGHT STARTS AGAIN. And stays there until Marius is shot, which is when he gets up and rushes over to him ... where Enjolras is too. When Enjolras hugs him, his posture visibly changes and he holds onto him with so much desperation, like he's refusing to let go. When Enjolras runs to the top of the barricade, Grantaire watches in despair from the side of the stage, pinned against the wall by his anxiety and fear.

As his friends start to die on the barricade, he's struggling to breathe and he's frozen in his spot, trying desperately to go and help his friends but so visibly conflicted. He's shaking and he's hitting himself because he thinks he is being a coward. He's having a full blown panic attack and breakdown as Les Amis fight ... and then he lets off the most painful scream and hits himself in the head because he's so frustrated at himself when Enjolras dies ... and this appears to be the push he needed, so he races up to the top of the barricade screaming "you bastards" really softly to go and die alongside the one person he loves more than anything.

I'm never going to get over it.

Adam Colbeck-Dunn is the most beautifully painful Grantaire I have ever, ever seen and I am never recovering from this portrayal.

[lina-lovebug]

New Years Kiss

Orm Marius x fem! reader

_

Orm Marius couldn't admit he liked you.

As the son of King Orvax, he was prideful, cunning, malicious and stubborn. He always knew he'd have to fight for his throne, and because of that reality, he's spiteful.

But he's also Atlannas' son. He never spent much time thinking of how they both cared to the brink of it hurting them, or how his love was displayed in actions whilst hers was in encouraging her son to do better with his newfound freedom. In looks, he is his mothers son, but his pride held onto him steadfast.

"(Y/N) is coming."

"(Y/N)?"

Arthur mused, "oh now someone's paying attention."

Orm said nothing but rolled his eyes. His elder brother, Arthur, had a habit of teasing him. Sure, he had grown used to it and had his own retorts, but it had only gotten worse since Arthur figured out that Orm has a crush.

On a human.

"She's hosting, so you better not fuck this up."

Orm sneered, "what are you talking about?"

"New Years Kiss, little bro!" He went to mess up his hair, but Orm dodged him, "when the clock strikes midnight, humans have a tradition of sharing a kiss," Mera explained to him whilst feeding Jr..

"I don't know why you're telling me this because I have no intentions of courting her-"

"When you sound like that, you don't," Arthur cut in, his voice loud even from the kitchen.

Orm is Atlantean, (Y/N) is human.

Logically, it would never work out.

So why even try?

But even as Orm would remind himself of such a glaring difference, the thought would vanish the moment he saw her. He had seen hundreds of Atlantean women in his time, even mermaids, but somehow they were dull in his eyes compared to her. She wasn't just different because she's human, but she genuinely cared about everyone around her. He first claimed she was strange for giving her food to the homeless, or how she was odd for asking the barista how her day was.

Because it's a pure act of innocence that he hadn't seen in a long time.

And its what drew him in even further.

Despite his claims, Orm still found himself picking off any piece of lint or fur on his clothing and made sure he smelt just like that candle she loved so much.

And a dash of that cologne that Arthur wears.

"Oh, he just keeps growing! Jr, I thought we talked about this. You need to stay cute forever," (Y/N) loved seeing Jr.. Her face lit up in joy anytime she saw the little prince, and Orm felt a pang of jealousy.

Then realized.

He's jealous of a toddler.

"Help yourself! The potato skins are almost done," You had done the most to avoid Orms intense gaze but with those eyes? It was nearly impossible.

"Orm, how was your Christmas?" You asked, a tad bit nervous as he came inside and took his shoes off. He was always respectful of your home.

"Arthur gave me a fish."

"Did you name it?"

He looked at you for a moment, ". . .his name is Triton."

His deadpan voice with that line made you smile, and you brought out a small box from your back.

"What's this?" He asked carefully, watching it in your hand.

"Well since I couldn't make it for Christmas, I thought you could have it today," you explained, a small feeling bubbling in your stomach. You saw it and immediately thought of him, but never saw Orm wear jewelry a day in his life.

"It's for me?" He felt his heart skip a beat as he took it carefully and unwrapped it. It was a small box and went it opened up, his pupils dilated at the gift inside.

"I know how it feels to not be able to go home," you explained as he pulled it out of the box, admiring it, "so I thought you'd like something that reminds you of it."

It's a ring with carefully carved ocean waves along the side. You could relate to Orm in that way - being exiled. Well, it wasn't exactly exile, but it was always one way or the highway with your parents.

Choosing your own happiness came with a cost.

"And it's stainless steel, so it won't tarnish in the water," I added nervously.

"It's beautiful," he finally spoke up, slipping it on his right hand. He met your gaze with a nervous smile, "you didn't have to-"

"(Y/N), I think the potato skins are burning!"

"Fuck!" You shouted, running to the kitchen. Orm admired the ring for a bit longer, enjoying the warmth it brought it him before joining the others.

The evening was quite eventful, to say the least.

Arthur ate half of the food all whilst sharing pictures of Jr., and then Mera had started to feel ill. You apologized if something was overcooked or undercooked, but Mera insisted she had been feeling off all day.

Leaving you and Orm.

Alone.

He sat on the couch like a stuff board, suddenly hyperaware of his own breathing and kept glancing at you across the couch.

"I-"

"What-"

You chuckled, "sorry. You first."

Orm said softly, "it is nothing of importance. Please."

"Want to see the fireworks? It's almost midnight," Orm hadn't heard much of them before being banished to the surface. Only that they were loud and he refused to go outside.

But for you?

He'd say yes.

Since it was cold outside, you grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around you before slipping on shark slippers.

"I'm sorry if this has been a rough New Years Eve. I'm usually a better cook than tonight," you apologized, "I've just been feeling weird lately."

"Is it a human sickness?" Orm questioned, still keeping a small distance from you, for fear his heart might burst from his chest.

You blushed lightly, taking a small step closer to him, "something like that."

"Well. . .I hope you feel better."

Dense as always.

You took the initiative to step closer to him, your hands keeping themselves on the railing of your porch. The wood creaked lightly, and Orm wanted nothing more than to hold your hands.

"Humans get cold easily, correct?" He knew this but wanted to sound dumber for this.

"Yeah, why?" You asked, looking up at him.

He said nothing else but gathered your hands in his, cupping them together. You faced him but looked down, completely sure your face was scarlet.

"Guess I should have worn gloves," you muttered.

"I like it better this way," Orm confessed, meeting your gaze in your own shock.

It's now or never, he thought.

"I hated your kind," what a fucking way to start, "and what you did to the ocean. I wanted to blame all of you, for surely no one was innocent. . .but I have never seen something so pure in their efforts. You are shameless with your kindness, and it used to befuddle me. Why would anyone do things without expectations? Nothing to return back?"

"Orm," you breathed out. Surely he wasn't going to say it? Surely the fucking Prince of Atlantis didn't fall for a land dweller?

"You're incredible," He confessed, a small smile teasing at his lips, "You're the best of your people, and. . .and I. . ." He felt like words couldn't describe what he felt.

So he led with action, and kissed you.

His lips were nothing like you'd imagined. They were soft, and supple against your own, which you were lucky enough to remember your strawberry chapstick today. You leaned further into the kiss, and one hand came up to cradle your cheek. He wanted to continue on, memorize your lips against his - the very euphoria it brought him.

But a loud bang separated you both.

The fireworks started, bright reds, greens, blues - all lighting up the sky. You leaned your head against his chest with a laugh, "that scared the shit out of me."

His arms wrapped around your frame, ensuring your warmth as the colors in the sky danced in his eyes.

"I was your New Years kiss," He said absent-mindedly, and you looked up at him.

"Did Arthur tell you to plan this?"

He chuckled, "oh no. He may be older but he's not that smart."

"You're so mean," you playfully smacked his chest.

"But never to you," He planted a loving kiss on your forehead, silently thanking his brother for having Mera fake her illness so that he could do this.

I'm a fucking dumbass. I wrote this but passed out at 1am 🤦‍♀️

[monstersinthecosmos]

Vamptember Day 14 - Free Day

{puscifer - bullet train to iowa}

tapestries & tile - part ii

“Was he like that when he was alive?” Daniel asks. 

He rubs over the new skin on his throat, still pink from healing. Eyes glassy as he searches Marius’s face. A car horn drifts up from the avenue, and someone laughing, and it trills through the buzz in Marius’s blood.

“You know the answer to that,” Marius answers. He licks Daniel’s blood from his teeth, and pulls him close, just embracing him for a moment as his heart slows down to normal. “You’ve seen it.”

Daniel chuckles, and Marius feels the pulse of shyness ripple over him. Something playful, with no shame. Just that he was sort of asking Marius to show him. He wants to see.

“He was submissive with me, you know that,” Marius says gently. “I think he wanted as much with you, as well, but he couldn’t let himself.” 

There’s a wet-warm kiss to the corner of Marius’s jaw, and Daniel’s hands stroke up and down Marius’s back. Like foreplay, the way he hesitates, luring Marius to say more. It probably works. Brings the memories closer to the surface. More vivid in Marus’s brain whenever Daniel is ready to drink.

“He was…” Marius pauses under the press of Daniel’s tongue as he kisses downward, tracing the artery in Marius’s neck, “…bratty.”

“You liked him bratty.”

“Mmhmm. The irony is that I think he was often the one in charge, you know. He liked provoking me.”

The tips of Daniel’s fangs tease over Marius’s skin, but don’t break through just yet. It’s his way of begging, Marius thinks. 

“You’re just like him,” Marius mumbles, but it makes him smile. He tilts his head back, to give Daniel more space, and watches the stars through the pink light pollution. 

Daniel squeezes Marius’s ass and drags them closer together. Their groins grind impotently together, like some leftover human urge. 

“I think sometimes he saw himself in you,” Marius adds. “It’s like he wanted to see what it was like, having the human lover. Processing his mortal life five hundred years too late.”

He’s never said as much out loud, and they’ve never talked about that part. It must be obvious, though. All the times they’ve pulled away from each other, the blood barely swallowed and still coating the insides of their mouths, all those visions still fresh. It’s impossible not to notice. All the times Armand played along like a little manikin, trying on a role the way he might try on his father’s clothes.

Daniel bites down.

Primordial rush of pain, no matter how old Marius gets. Something breaching all the age and power. His body, the Blood, instinctually knows its being drained, but when it’s intimate like this the panic just feels erotic.

He closes his eyes, thinks of Daniel on his knees in a dirty club bathroom. Conjures Amadeo the same way.

Strange, how these cycles can grow. Marius wonders, for a moment, if he learned it somewhere, too. And there’s a hint of it, just a wisp, remembering the soldier he lost his virginity to. One of his father’s friends, and the little smack he’d laid into Marius’s cheek to get his mouth to open.

But no, no. Daniel doesn’t care about all that. Marius grinds his teeth, tries to focus, imagines the bedroom in Venice.

Amadeo, on his knees by the fireplace, just close enough that the heat is starting to hurt. His arms are outstretched at his sides and shaking with strain, but he’s too stubborn to yield. 

“He’s always been a fool,” Marius moans quietly. He means it affectionately, and knows that Daniel understands. He slips a hand into Daniel’s back pocket, holding him there as the blood drains. “He’s tried to find God in everyone he’s ever cared about.”

That’s all it had been, really. Marius knew it then, too, because Amadeo’s sweaty little thoughts were always so loud. The way he liked being put into place, the way he craved it. On the floor, his knees aching and thighs trembling, shoulders screaming for respite. Marius stood over him, unmoving, the pain flooding the space around them. It drew itself across his face, the tense jaw, the way the light was going out from his eyes.

Almost there. 

“He liked it,” Marius breathes.

Amadeo whimpers. A spasm runs through his arm, struggling to hold the pose. Marius wonders how long he’d last crawling through a labyrinth.

Small down there on the floor, his hair a mess, face glowing with the sheen of sweat. Lip quivering as the word please stutters over and over in his mind. Never out loud, though, and Marius stares down at him, waiting for it. It could be over if he’d just ask, but he’s too obsessed with suffering.

Craving punishment, and craving mercy. So many nights like this, needling at Marius until he got his way. Marius doesn’t remember the farce anymore, and knows he barely remembered in the moment. Wasn’t actually angry with him and hadn’t seen the need for a punishment. Just indulged him, because Amadeo wanted it.

Looking for God, on his knees, in so much pain that he can barely remember himself. 

The sweet spot he liked to go to, where he could float in it. Marius waits, just a little longer, feeling for the way it sweetens the air in the room. The way Amadeo’s jaw goes slack. The way his eyes glaze over.

“Amadeo,” Marius says. He keeps his voice stern, because it’s part of the game, and runs his fingers through Amadeo’s curls. His eyes roll upwards, towards the ceiling, trying to follow his master’s voice. “You have not earned the Sacrament.”

Was he like this when he was alive? Daniel had asked, and Marius sees them both for a moment. Armand’s face, flickering here, unchanged and yet completely foreign. Cold and eerie, dead beneath the surface, where Amadeo is throbbing with tender life. Amadeo’s tear-filled eyes and thick lashes, and Armand’s haunting serenity. 

Marius presses his fingers to their lips, slipping two inside. Nails clicking against their teeth, then scratching gently at the roof of their mouth. 

“Open,” he says softly. “Obey.”

Pink tongue licking across his knuckles, and he leaves a shining streak across their skin as he pulls out. It shines in the firelight and they whimper as they resist the instinct to wipe it away.

“Good,” Marius tells them. Seeing both of them, like one is the shell of the other. He bleeds into Daniel and wishes he could reconcile them.

But he leans forward. Leans in closer. Lets the saliva pool in his mouth as they squirm in impatience. 

Just Amadeo again, though, as it’s time. Broken little thing, open and waiting for Communion as Marius spits into him. 

“Disgusting,” he mutters, and doesn’t mean it, but knows Amadeo likes it. Likes how it prickles on the back of his neck and twists in his stomach. Likes the coldness Marius feigns. He blinks up innocently as he swallows.

Please, please, he’s thinking, but won’t say out loud. Please. Again. 

[manynarrators]

So I'm reading Queen of the Damned for the first time, and the following bit stood out to be. Excerpt (pg. 139-141) under the cut because it's a bit long, but I want to talk about it!

This comes from the chapter about the Talamasca, and this particular passage is David Talbot (head of the organization) trying to prove to Jesse that vampires are real.

Imagine, there is so much of you on file as to be the example that vampires exist. You have been recreated in unsettling detail and kept in the archives. You and the painting both survive, but you are not the you in the painting.

Nor are you the most important part of this, you are a link to a story that isn't even yours. Your theatre isn't yours because the deed is in the name of Lestat de Lioncourt. There's a journal article with you smiling. You only maybe know about all of this.

Five-hundred years and you are a pretty thing on a shelf, still. That is what you will always be to them.

All of which is to say, that the show having just folders upon subfolders on Armand is both somehow more devastating reading the book, and also an accuracy! I want to read the files, what does the Talamasca know? How do they talk about Armand? How many people have seen this painting? Does Armand know about the extent of the archive, if so, how does he feel about that???

I'll take questions that will never be answered but that I desperately want to be for $500.

She saw an enormous painting against the far wall. She placed it at once as Renaissance, and probably Venetian. It was done in egg tempera on wood. And it had the marvelous sheen of such paintings, a gloss that no synthetic material can create. She read the Latin title along with the name of the artist, in small Roman-style letters painted in the lower right corner.

"The Temptation of Amadeo" by Marius

She stood back to study it.

A splendid choir of black-winged angels hovered around a single kneeling figure, that of a young auburn-haired boy. The cobalt sky behind them, seen through a series of arches, was splendidly done with masses of gilded clouds. And the marble floor before the figures had a photographic perfection to it. One could feel its coldness, see the veins in the stone.

But the figures were the true glory of the picture. The faces of the angels were exquisitely modeled, their pastel robes and black feathered wings extravagantly detailed. And the boy, the boy was very simply alive! His dark brown eyes veritably glistened as he stared forward out of the painting. His skin appeared moist. He was about to move or speak.

In fact, it was all too realistic to be Renaissance. The figures were particular rather than ideal. The angels wore expressions of faint amusement, almost bitterness. And the fabric of the boy's tunic and leggings, it was too exactly rendered. She could even see the mends in it, a tiny tear, the dust on his sleeve. There were other such details-- dried leaves here and there on the floor, and two paintbrushes lying to one side for no apparent reason.

"Who is this Marius?" she whispered. The name meant nothing. And never had she seen an Italian painting with so many disturbing elements. Black-winged angels…

David didn't answer. He pointed to the boy. "It's the boy I want you to observe," he said. "He's not the real subject of your investigation, merely a very important link."

Subject? Link... She was too engrossed in the picture. "And look, bones in the corner, human bones covered with dust, as if someone had merely swept them out of the way. But what on earth does it all mean?"

"Yes," David murmured. "When you see the word 'temptation,' usually there are devils surrounding a saint."

"Exactly," she answered. "And the craft is exceptional." The more she stared at the picture, the more disturbed she became. "Where did you get this?"

"The order acquired it centuries ago," David answered. "Our emissary in Venice retrieved it from a burnt-out villa on the Grand Canal. These vampires are endlessly associated with fires, by the way. It is the one weapon they can use effectively against one another. There are always fires. In Interview with the Vampire, there were several fires, if you recall. Louis set fire to a town house in New Orleans when he was trying to destroy his maker and mentor, Lestat. And later, Louis burned the Theater of the Vampires in Paris after Claudia's death." Claudia's death. It sent a shiver through Jesse, startling her slightly.

"But look at this boy carefully," David said. "It's the boy we're discussing now."

Amadeo. It meant "one who loves God." He was a handsome creature, all right. Sixteen, maybe seventeen, with a square, strongly proportioned face and a curiously imploring expression.

David had put something in her hand. Reluctantly she took her eyes off the painting. She found herself staring at a tintype, a late-nineteenth-century photograph. After a moment, she whispered: "This is the same boy!"

"Yes. And something of an experiment," David said. "It I was most likely taken just after sunset in impossible lighting conditions which might not have worked with another subject. Notice not much is really visible but his face." True, yet she could see the style of the hair was of the period. I "You might look at this as well," David said. And this time he gave her an old magazine, a nineteenth-century journal, the I kind with narrow columns of tiny print and ink illustrations. There was the same boy again alighting from a barouche-- a hasty sketch, though the boy was smiling.

"The article's about him, and about his Theater of the Vampires. Here's an English journal from 1789. That's a full eighty years earlier, I believe. But you will find another very thorough description of the establishment and the same young man."

"The Theater of the Vampires…" She stared up at the auburn-haired boy kneeling in the painting. "Why, this is Armand, the character in the novel!"

"Precisely. He seems to like that name. It may have been Amadeo when he was in Italy, but it became Armand by the eighteenth century and he's used Armand ever since."

"Slow down, please," Jesse said. "You're telling me that the Theater of the Vampires has been documented? By our people?"

"Thoroughly. The file's enormous. Countless memoirs describe the theater. We have the deeds to the property as well. And here we come to another link with our files and this little novel, Interview with the Vampire. The name of the owner of the theater was Lestat de Lioncourt, who purchased it in 1789. And the property in modern Paris is in the hands of a man by the same name even now."

"This is verified?" Jesse said.

"It's all in the file," David said, "photostats of the old records and the recent ones. You can study the signature of Lestat if you like. Lestat does everything in a big way, covers half the page with his magnificent lettering. We have photostats of several examples. We want you to take those photostats to New Orleans with you. There's a newspaper account of the fire which destroyed the theater exactly as Louis described it. The date is consistent with the facts of the story. You must go over everything, of course. And the novel, do read it again carefully."

[lacefedora]

Sleep: Devil's Minion/ Armandaniel

@its-a-moral-gay-area

Armand has a nightmare about marius, daniel comforts him

<got a little stuck on this one a few days but I like the result. Contains references to marius and all the baggage that comes with that>

-

Armand rarely slept. He didn't need much sleep and to Daniel it seemed like Armand felt he was wasting his time if he slept away the hours instead of using them to do something. Read or buy art or whatever the fuck he kept doing that utterly destroyed Daniel's blender and garbage disposal. The man kept busy.

So it was an odd thing, to find Armand asleep. Even odder to find Armand in Daniel's bed doing it. Daniel was pretty sure they'd had sex in the past, some moments Armand has erased from Daniel's mind. He had caught glimpses of it when he had tasted Armand's blood. Glimpses of a life that Daniel had no memory of. He planned to go digging on that. But they hadn't shared a bed since his return.

He takes a moment to just watch him. Armand looked younger in sleep somehow. Too young. Daniel reaches out, about to brush some dark curls from his face. But then he sees Armand's brow furrow. His face twists like he's in pain. He starts to speak. Daniel can't understand the words… he knows enough French to get by but this isn't french… but not quite Italian either. He seems to be… pleading though. Trapped in a nightmare.

Perhaps this was the real reason Armand avoided sleep.

"Armand." He calls to him when he starts moving and twitching. Finally he reaches out, brushing his hair back and trying to wake him gently.

The response is immediate. Armand shoots straight up, cringing away from Daniel's hand. Daniel draws back his hands, holding them up. Armand's eyes are wild as he looks around the room, more panicked than Daniel had ever seen him.

"It's me Armand… just me." Armand's eyes come to rest on him.

"Daniel…" He says, like he's coming back from far away. Daniel sees Armand start to reach for him, then he stops, hands falling back to the bed. "Forgive me. I was dreaming." He says slowly.

Daniel has never been particularly hesitant. He moves across the bed and grabs Armand, pulling him against him. It's… bizarre how Armand fits against him immediately. He buries his face against Daniel's shoulder and he feels a shuttering breath against it.

"I'd say you had a nightmare, boss. It's okay." Daniel says and he puts his hand on Armand's hair, petting his curls. "You want to talk about it?" He asks. He doubted he would. Armand simply… didn't talk about things if he could help it. He was a volatile ball of constant repression. Right up until he exploded.

Armand seems to somehow burrow deeper into his embrace, clinging onto him.

"It was about Marius. Just… an old punishment." Armand tells him in a halting voice. Daniel's honestly a little touched he even got that much out of him.

"Marius… your creep Maker that used to pimp you out to his other artist friends?" Daniel asks and he keeps petting Armand's hair, feeling him start to unwind and relax under the touch. "Can't say I'm surprised he did shit to give you nightmares. Guy seems like a real peach." Daniel says flatly.

"He was not always… I was a wild thing then." Armand says, almost in defense.

"I don't know how to break this to you, but you're a wild thing now." Daniel tells him. He liked it about him actually. Which probably made him completely fucking insane, but here they were. "Don't really care how wild you were. Didn't deserve that shit, And you didn't deserve whatever it is that gave you nightmares 500 years after the fact, okay?"

Armand is silent for a long time after that. Daniel starts to think he's fallen back asleep. Instead after an age of silence Armand turns his head and presses a kiss to Daniel's shoulder and then tightens his arms around him.

"Thank you…" Armand says quietly. Daniel just smiles and pulls him to lay down together on the bed.

[desertfangs]

Let's talk some more about Daniel's madness as seen in B&G (which is the only book we see it in, though it is mentioned in PL that he has recovered).

Marius has brought Thorne to his home and introduced him to Daniel the night before. This is Thorne's POV:

As he came to the door to the chamber where Daniel made his wondrous cities and towns, he paused, and very reticently glanced inside to see the boyish blond-haired Daniel at his work as though he had never retired for the day at all.

Daniel looked up, and quite unexpectedly, gave Thorne an open smile as he greeted him. "Thorne, our guest," he said. It had a faint tone of mockery, but Thorne sensed it was a weaker emotion.

"Daniel, my friend," said Thorne, glancing again over the tiny mountains and valleys, over the fast running little trains with their lighted windows, over the thick forest of trees which seemed Daniel's present obsession.

Daniel turned his eyes back to his work as though they hadn't spoken.It was green paint now that he dabbed onto the small tree.

Quietly, Thorne moved to go but as he did so, Daniel spoke: "Marius says it's a craft, not an art that I do." He held up the tiny tree.

Thorne didn't know what to say.

"I make the mountains with my own hands," said Daniel. "Marius says I should make the houses as well."

Again Thorne found himself unable to answer.

Daniel went on talking."I like the houses that come in the packages. It's difficult to assemble them, even for me. Besides, I would never think of so many different types of houses. I don't know why Marius has to say such disparaging things."

Thorne was perplexed. Finally he said simply, "I have no answer."

Daniel went quiet. Thorne waited for a respectful interval and then he went into the great room. This whole scene fascinates me. We get so little of Daniel in this book, and this exchange with Thorne is so interesting. He’s focused on his models, yes, but he also seems so dejected that Marius calls his art "a craft" and admonishes him for using kits for some of the houses and buildings, even though he’s doing a wild of amount of work to put these little worlds together. And the weaker emotion Thorne mentions? I suspect that’s sarcasm. Marius had introduced him as “our guest” and I wonder if this is a sardonic, almost self-deprecating response to that. As in, “I am mad creature who builds models, I am not hosting anyone” sort of thing. What really gets me is that Marius tells Thorne Daniel is wholly obsessed with his models, to the extent that he passes out on the floor in front of his work tables unless Marius intervenes. But he asks Daniel if he’s fed in an earlier scene, presuming Daniel is at a stage where he can leave the house by himself if he chooses, and he’s not unaware that Marius is less than impressed with his model worlds. I tend to think of Daniel’s madness as being overwhelming and all encompassing, and we don’t know at this point how long Daniel has been mad. I assume it’s been worse but that’s only an assumption. And we know he gets better and he and Marius become very close by Prince Lestat (they seem close now but very much in a caretaker/person in need of care sort of way). We just get this strange little window in what is years of madness Daniel suffers.

I'd love to hear other people's thoughts on this and how you picture Daniel's madness and the arc of it if anyone wants to share! And just as a sidebar, I love that apparently Throne is impressed by his models. I think that sets the stage for them being friends later, if nothing else.

[kissofthemis]

Hello!Can i request the nxx biys with a slightly weird s/o?

Like weird as in they're always happy and goofy 24/7 even in dangerous situations?Like maybe something happened to them in the past that made then this way(you can decide on what happened :D )

Oh,and can i be the K Anon?My keyboard lags a lot if i use emojis,so I hope you don't mind if I go by K Anon here :D

Sorry if this is a super long request it's just been brainrottingbin my head 24/7 and i don't have enough writting skills lmao

❤ Artem ❤

At first, he doesn't notice that you have a tendency to laugh off your pain or make morbid jokes. He thinks that he's just more uptight or strict than most people, so he suspects your behavior is actually more akin to how "normal" people act.

It's when you act blasé after a dangerous encounter that he realizes that this seems to be a unique trait, specific to you.

He specializes in criminal cases. He knows that people who feel threatened or have experienced dangerous situations can react in many different ways... but to be this carefree is not something he's seen before.

You don't lash out, but you don't withdraw. You don't scream or cry, but you aren't bottling your pain either. You're an anomaly.

"Mr. Wing, it's a dark world out there." He knows that. "If I'm too serious, I'll crumble." He's never heard you speak in such a flat, detached tone. "So I stay silly!"

He isn't going to pry into why you feel you have to laugh all the pain away, because he trusts you to tell him if/when you're ready.

He knows what it's like to mask his true feelings.

Instead he offers you his shoulder. "If you ever need to turn away from the shadows... I'll shield you if you need a moment to be vulnerable, before putting that smile back on your face."

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💛 Luke 💛

Your smile and laugh make him warm inside. He likes that you can stay cheerful even when faced with stress or with gloomy situations.

He soon realizes that you're a bit too goofy, a bit too relaxed, a bit too much of a jokester. He's not mad about it, but he wants to figure out why you're this way.

At first he doesn't want to tell you he's investigating your behaviors. He's in detective mode and NSB agent mode at the same time; he won't ask for help nor reveal his intentions when he asks to spend more time with you.

He cares, but his pride can get in the way.

Finally he pieces together the puzzle, with clues and hints he obtained partially from you and partially from totally legitimate public sources, no hacking involved. (/s)

"You could've just asked me!" You laugh and wave him off. "It's no big deal!"

Luke gets stern with you. "You were subjected to immense psychological and physical abuse."

You just smile. "And you haven't been?" His scowl gets deeper. "Tell you what! Promise to look after me, so you don't have to worry about me getting trapped or endangered ever again! And then I'll be able to smile freely all the time!"

He reluctantly agrees.

Don't ask if the plush dog he gives you the next time you meet has a camera in it.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💜 Marius 💜

Your cheerful and carefree nature is what draws Marius to you in the first place.

He's constantly under stress. Whether it's school, tutoring, Z, or Pax, he always has some project pending and is subject to intense scrutiny.

You're a breath of fresh air from stuffy old men. You smile, you laugh, you play. He wants some of that l joy back in his life.

Unfortunately, trauma knows trauma. The more time he spends with you, the more he picks up on eccentricities that... don't quite line up with "innocence" the way he imagines it.

He understands the value of secrets and how they can protect others. He's had to keep secrets to protect his family, the company, reputations, wealth, you name it.

But he also wants to work on being more honest with himself, and that means being more honest with his closest friends. He doesn't have many friends, so he wants you to be able able confide in him the same way he can confide in you.

Of course, while he's a bold and bright businessman, he's a timid and inexperienced friend.

He'll try to tease and pout his way into your heart and mind. "Aww, are you laughing at me again, miss/mx/mister?" Tugging at your sleeves and your heartstrings. "Trying to trick me with a fake smile? Miss/mx/mister doesn't trust me..."

Turns out he has to be direct and blunt. You two end up having a heart to heart about your respective fears and struggles, the horrors you've faced, the sorrowful smiles and the humorous tears.

He comes up with an idea. "Here's a key to my studio. Want to turn pain and fear into something bright? Show me what you can paint."

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💚 Vyn 💚

In case it wasn't readily apparent, Vyn picks up on your act instantly.

He's a psychiatrist. He doesn't know why you act this way, but he can figure out it's unnatural.

(Not to mention he enjoys card tricks. He's also good at perceiving sleight of hand and other "magic" that involves showing someone what you want them to see, instead of showing them the truth and mechanisms behind the magic.)

Instead of playing games or trying to snoop his way into your secrets, he just observes you.

He's skilled at sitting back and watching, waiting, picking up pieces and fitting them together.

You catch him by surprise, however, when you call him out on his behavior.

"Vyn, am I your patient or your friend?" You pout at him and fold your arms over your chest in a highly exaggerated manner, one that is almost comical in nature. You shift back into chuckles and spin around as you wait for his answer.

Your one moment of frustration could easily be brushed off as a joke, but Vyn hears there is actual hurt in your words.

"You are... quite the anomaly," he replies at last. "You wear both the masks of comedy and tragedy. I couldn't help but wonder which was your real face." He leans closer and whispers, "I want to see my friend's true face, beneath all the masks and pretenses. Is that so wrong, dear?"

[cometomecosette]

Once again, I'm feeling sad about Jean Valjean's flaws as a parent. I forgive him, but Cosette deserves better.

Of course, the way most adaptations present it, even the musical to an extent – "He's a controlling father who isolates Cosette from the world and needs to let her go" – is a vast oversimplification. The novel's Valjean always tries to make Cosette happy, is never harsh or overtly controlling, and tries to give her as full, free, and normal a life as his status as an ex-convict allows. But recent posts in Les Mis Letters by @secretmellowblog and others have reminded me of the subtler, more insidious ways that he arguably becomes her "jailer” (as SparkNotes says), keeps her "chained to his side” (as a recent post says), and prevents her from living her life to the fullest.

Of course, the most glaring problem is his jealousy of Marius and his efforts to separate Cosette from him, which causes Cosette so much pain that she doesn't even feel free to express. If it were a matter of protecting Cosette from a possible predator or cad, it would be more sympathetic, but instead of thinking of the danger this young stalker might pose to her, he makes it all about himself and his fear of losing her. In his private thoughts, he seems to view complete, exclusive possession of Cosette’s love and attention as a reward that he deserves for all his past suffering. He left the convent earlier because he knew it would be wrong to deny freedom to Cosette by keeping her there and making her become a nun, but then when the possibility of her falling in love and leaving him arises, he deeply regrets having left.

Meanwhile, there are other problems too that aren't Marius-related. Valjean's chronic guilt and lack of self-care unintentionally force Cosette to be his caregiver, in a way that's not natural for a child to be to a parent. He keeps so many secrets from her and avoids important conversations, ostensibly to protect her from pain, but probably more to avoid pain himself. And Cosette's docile, conflict-avoidant, sadness-swallowing tendencies mirror Valjean's own, so she's arguably learned unhealthy habits from him. Although it's debatable whether she behaves that way just because she sees her father do it, or because she has a traumatic past too, even though she doesn’t consciously remember the Thénardiers.

Even Valjean’s gesture of giving Cosette the main house at Rue Plumet with all its luxuries while he lives in the porter's cottage, letting her be the active mistress of the house who does all the money management... While on the surface it's a loving, generous, empowering gesture (as well as practical for him, since it lets him keep a lower profile), I suppose it can also be seen as giving her too much responsibility at too young an age. In a way, he doesn't want her to grow up, and does what he can to prevent it; but at the same time, he unintentionally makes her grow up too fast and be a (platonic) wife, mother, and daughter to him all in one.

Cosette deserves so much better than that.

I can’t even take my usual approach to plot points in the novel that I don’t like – preferring the musical – because I don’t think the musical is any better. Yes, it omits Valjean’s jealousy of Marius and his attempt to separate Cosette from him, and yes, it omits details like Valjean refusing to see a doctor for his wound and Cosette having to nurse him alone. But the song “In My Life” emphasizes Cosette’s loneliness and yearning for answers, which Hugo’s Cosette doesn’t feel until she’s separated from Marius, and it has Valjean explicitly refusing to tell her about the past, when in the novel she hardly ever asks, and when she does, he just sadly smiles and says nothing at all. The 2012 film drives home the point even further with its repeated symbolic imagery of Valjean closing windows and doors, and with Cosette and Marius singing "A Heart Full of Love" separated by the garden gate's prison-like bars.

My rational mind knows that all these problems are realistic and necessary for the plot. There's no such thing as a perfect parent. Whether intentionally or not, all parents hurt their children. Besides, it's important for a protagonist to have flaws. All of this is what saves Valjean from being an insipid saint in his old age. If he weren't possessive of Cosette and didn't block her romance with Marius at first, then his later heroic rescue of Marius for Cosette’s sake wouldn't be meaningful; there would be nothing redemptive about it.

My rational mind also knows that it's wrong to put all the blame on Valjean for his mistakes. I even think some of the recent Tumblr posts about this subject have been too hard on him. After all, he has mental health problems that aren't his own fault. Also, his possessiveness isn't just a matter of not wanting to share Cosette; he must know all along that he can't possibly join another family as an in-law, so if Cosette marries, it will mean losing her completely. None of these problems would exist if he weren't an ex-convict, so ultimately, the unjust justice system is to blame.

Besides, Cosette is happy in their secluded life until Marius comes along. We can talk from an outside perspective about how unhealthy and what a gilded cage it is from the beginning, but Cosette doesn't agree: until she's separated from Marius, she's content. Why should Valjean assume she can't be happy again the way she was before?

But emotionally, it's not so easy to accept. While of course protagonists need flaws, some flaws are easier to forgive than others. For me, the harder-to-forgive flaws include any case of a parent emotionally hurting his child, or a male character emotionally hurting a female character who loves him, or any character whose love becomes self-absorbed and stifling to the loved one. Even if it's all done unwittingly and with good intentions, and even if the character redeems themself through selfless deeds later: my heart says they should have done better from the start. My heart says it's disgraceful that a man whose trauma revolves around imprisonment should become a "jailer" in any sense to his daughter. And it’s devastating that the bond Valjean and Cosette formed when she was a little girl, which was so beautiful, pure, and sweet, should become complicated, messy, and oppressive to Cosette in any way, no matter how much they still love each other through it all.

Sometimes, irrationally, I find myself thinking that maybe Valjean should have just left Cosette at the convent with a decent sum of money instead of adopting her; that maybe she would have been better off as a rich orphan. I know that's a ridiculous thought, but occasionally it crosses my mind.

I suppose the ideal Jean Valjean in my heart is neither the novel's Valjean, nor the musical's, nor any other adaptation's that I know. I'm not entirely sure how he would be different from those Valjeans, or how he would be a better father while keeping the plot intact and not becoming a dull saint. But somehow or other, he would still make mistakes where Cosette is concerned, yet less heartbreaking mistakes than in canon. For example, his concerns about Marius might be more focused on protecting Cosette from a potentially dangerous stalker than on his own self-centered feelings of not wanting to lose her. Maybe that would dilute Hugo's message, but this is my personal preferred version of the story, not his. I'm not saying I want to remove all the plot-essential conflict and turn Les Misérables into Les Happy Times, but is it wrong to see that Cosette deserves better and want to rewrite the story just enough to give her what she deserves?

[lou-iz-stat]

We are officially 7 weeks away from Interview with the Vampire season 2 !!!!! So that means that it is time for a rewatch each week that will eventually lead up to the premiere.

This post will be my rewatch of episode 1 and it will include observations that relate to the rest of the season so there will be spoilers for season 1 as well as book spoilers. I will also make some predictions for season 2 since I have seen that amazing extended trailer I haven’t been able to get out of my head since. So with that here is my rewatch of episode 1…

IWTV S1 E1: In Throes of Increasing Wonder

The first thing we see is of course Daniel’s little master class commercial that is there to quickly establish what his character is. I have seen a lot of reactions to this first episode from people and they are always confused of if they are watching the right show (lol).

Next we are in Daniel’s apartment in New York which at first glance might not seem like something that is very important but there are so many clues that can be scene there. The bite mark on his neck, THE PUZZLE, the little pink bike helmet. That damn puzzle has confused many of us in the fandom and it could be a clue for something in season 2 when we get to uncover some of Daniel’s missing memories. I have a feeling like it could be from a different painting that Marius or even Armand has done. Only time will tell.

Even when he starts to listen to the tape he is afraid when he realizes that he could be living some of his past trauma by listening to these tapes but he still finds the strength go all the way to Dubai for a second interview.

I also don’t mind that the pandemic is included in this as we are still feeling the affects of it right now.

I also really like that they made Daniel old and have Parkinson’s in the show since it really brings Daniel’s mortality to the forefront and for the reason why he can afford to be so sassy and can push back since he knows he is at the end of his life anyway.

And of course Rashid (Armand) is sitting in a chair in the background. Armand is here from the beginning probably telepathically talking to Louis. And he talks to Daniel for the first time in probably awhile and in hindsight it is pretty funny how butthurt Armand gets at Daniel not wanting him there for the interview but he’ll still be able to hear. 🙄

With inclusion of Storyville and the masterful change of Louis’s race it really elevated Louis’s character from the books. Because of this change it gives the character of Louis some more bite, because of his race he is forced to show an illusion of strength. It just gives him so much more depth so that a modern audience can really connect with him. No matter what anybody says they HAD to change Louis from being a slave owner! Nobody wants a protagonist that owned people like that. And this act of strength that Louis does against his brother is what initially got Lestat to be interested in him in the first place. Everything just flows together so well in this first episode.

Right out the gate they establish Louis trying to distract himself from his closeted self by him seeing Ms. Lily. And with that we meet the gentleman vampire, Lestat. I must admit that when I first watched this I had some reservations about this version of Lestat because as I watched his accent kind of confused me but as the episode goes on, he definitely wins me over and I grew to love Sam’s voice. Sam’s Lestat is definitely what made fall in love with this character.

I never noticed how animalistic they made Lestat sound as he ripped into the lamplighter but his growls are insane.

The way Louis smiles at Lestat when he sucks at playing poker is so cute. ☺️

This is where we first see Lestat’s ability to spellbind a room. If this is the amount of power that Lestat has then I am sure that Armand’s power is going to be out of this world. And this is also the moment Lestat really wins Louis over by connecting to Louis hardship at being mistreated by the Alderman and Thomas Anderson. He also references his own past with the line “protection from the wolves.”

Love that Lestat references more his past from The Vampire Lestat at the Pointe du Lac dinner including his mom, Gabrielle who we will hopefully meet in s3. And knowing his past everything he says about his falling out with religion is sadly very true. 😢 Classic Lestat fuck up though… oh boy. 😭

The line “Dishonesty breeds dishonesty” is an interesting line. I know it proves true later on in the season but will it also prove true in s2?

🤣 The gay panic in Louis’s eyes when Lestat asks him up for a night cap is so good. Jacob Anderson you will always be famous.

Our first Nicki reference when Lestat talks about the music box which was Lestat’s first love.

The first scene in Lestat’s townhouse is iconic indeed but it is also where Lestat is slipping in the idea of Louis becoming his companion. 🥹 And when Louis pounces on Lestat I totally screamed with joy when I first watch this. It is so important to me. And the move that Lestat does to Louis when he goes behind him will definitely be a move that we see Louis replicate on Armand. No matter how much Louis will want to forget Lestat it will never work. lol

A reference to Daniel and Louis’s first meeting that will see later was good to set up now.

Seeing Louis actually getting to have a good time with his family for once before it all goes to shit really helps make what happens later especially tragic.

“Come to me” comes up a lot in The Vampire Lestat but it’s not Lestat saying it, it is usually what Armand says to Lestat. I wonder if this will come up later in s2.

Many have raved about Jacob Anderson’s performance but it truly is one the greatest performances of all time, especially his performance is the confession box and I’m sure he only be better in s2 if that’s even possible.

Along side that this whole scene in the church is so brilliant from beginning to end. The speech that Lestat gives to Louis. Killing of the priests. The kiss. The confession of love. The speech modern day Louis says. And the turning of Louis. All. So. Perfect.

And there you have it the end of my s1 e1 rewatch. If you are still reading this then thank you for sticking with my rambling ass. Hopefully I can keep this up for the rest of the episodes in the coming weeks.

7 more weeks. We can do this!

[reflection-s-of-stars]

You are someone I have always known

Or, an Eposette barricade day/birthday fic for the lovely Mina @jewishdainix !!!! Sorry it’s a day late, and I hope you like it!

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

That was as far as their interactions went most days. Cosette would see the flashing of cold blue eyes and a ratty jean jacket, and she’d wave instinctively. Not because she wanted to talk to Eponine, which she didn’t, especially not outside a therapist’s office, but because it was polite.

So Cosette was disturbed, one bright June morning, to realize that Eponine’s absence rattled her immensely.

It had become a comfort to her, it seemed, to see that face every Wednesday. Yes, it was the face of someone from a time she never wanted to relive in a hundred years, but the face itself was unaffected by that time somehow. Her face, her clothes, her walk, the way she nodded her head to say hey or hi or hm, had all become fixtures in Cosette’s life.

This, as has been said, was an unpleasant realization. Just because it’s comforting to have common fixtures in your life doesn’t mean you have to like those fixtures. 

Still, her relief at seeing Eponine walk out the door next Wednesday was noticeable, if not to them both. 

~

“I like your hair.” 

“Thanks.” 

Compliments were new territory. Yes, the electric shade of green Cosette had dyed her hair was shocking, but most of those who saw it just stared. 

She hadn’t gotten the chance to mention it before they were through their respective doors, but she liked Éponine’s hair just as much. It wasn’t dyed, but a muted shade of red that had been regaining a brilliance and a luster that she hadn’t seen before. A stylist wouldn’t have dreamed of touching hair like that with green dye. 

The second unpleasant realization of the last three weeks was that Eponine was so pretty. Like, Greek myth pretty. One of the wood nymphs in the myths storybook her papa had gotten her for whatever reason resembled her. It had told the tale of Ekho, talkative accomplice of Zeus, struck down by Hera and worn away by Narcissus. The doodles of Ekho looked like Éponine’s past life or secret twin. 

That was all Cosette could think about in therapy. She discussed other things: dying her hair, going bowling with Marius (whom she was over, thank you very much) and his friends, seeing her Papa in the suburbs and her mother at the cemetery. But life was routine enough that she could recite it from memory, and what was really on her mind was the fact that the client who left before her looked like a minor goddess in a storybook and had complimented her on her brand-new neon hair. 

Her therapist probably couldn’t tell all that just from listening to her talk. 

~

“Didn’t I see you hanging out with Marius Pontmercy on Sunday?” 

“Yeah, we met up with some of his friends and got ice cream.” 

Cosette’s hair was fading. She’d thought about going blonde, but the risk of looking a bit too much like Enjolras was just a little more than she was willing to take. So she was letting her roots grow out. 

Ice cream had been fun. They couldn’t go to the bar anymore since Grantaire was so set on getting sober, but a root beer float tasted better than normal beer anyway. A strange sensation had been Courfeyrac’s effusive praise of her hair as he craned his left hand for Marius’s right. They had held hands for the whole evening. Cosette had never liked it when Marius wanted to hold her hand for hours on end, but Courfeyrac seemed to like it just fine. 

There was no jealousy involved. Just them, hands clasped like a lock, and her, looking on silently. Eating her ice cream, laughing at Musichetta’s jokes. 

Wishing she could fall in love like that. 

Not with Marius again. That was nice for a few months but she didn’t need to do it again. Just someone, anyone, that would make life’s routines and fixtures feel more hopeful, more special. 

She mentioned it in therapy. Her therapist smiled to himself. That meant something good, it had to. 

That night, like she hadn’t done in years, Cosette made a wish in the fountain at the mall. 

~

“Were you there-“

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

It turned out Eponine lived in the building that Marius and Courfeyrac lived together in. Cosette had seen her going out as she left their place. The hair and eyes weren’t easy to miss, but she only noticed Eponine after the fact because she’d been sobbing like a little kid. 

She said it was nothing, and soon it would be nothing. Yes, Papa was in the hospital for heart trouble but he’d be out soon. No, she couldn’t be too far away from him but she had a place to stay and it was a four-minute drive from the hospital. Yes, it was all going to be just fine. 

It had to be fine, because her Papa was all Cosette had. 

He’d known her mother well, and when she was dying she said he would take care of everything. Everything meant Cosette, and he embraced her like his own. He loved her as much as any father loved his daughter, if not more. And she loved him more, if it was possible, because he’d chosen her of all little girls to love. They stood proud side by side, and they leaned on each other if they needed. 

And Cosette knew she wouldn’t be able to lean on her Papa if everything didn’t turn out fine. 

New routines sprouted from harsh soil. An everyday four-minute drive to the hospital, sitting with Papa, planning out the future if he got better and the future if he didn’t. A second four-minute drive, eating Marius’s leftovers and asking Courfeyrac to go to her place and water her plants. Tumbling asleep at midnight, leaving her phone off do not disturb, waking up tired. 

Seeing Eponine in a new hallway. That bit was nice.

~

“Where’ve you been?”

“All over.”

Papa came home after a three-week stay in the hospital. The doctors had a list of all the things he wasn’t allowed to do, which included living by himself. Cosette was in the process of moving all her things to his house. 

He had told her not to worry, that he was an old man and that these kinds of things would happen. She was young, she ought to enjoy her life. She fought back, she did, but Papa had a way of winning arguments that really made her understand why he was so often compared to an ox.

So, after her long break, Cosette was back in therapy. After this she was going out to get Papa the last of his meds, and after that she would go to sleep no matter what he said or did. 

Routines were blending like dream logic, it seemed. The daily drives were longer, the appointments shorter, and Papa’s habits replaced those of Marius. There weren’t sudden changes, but everything was in a different place now. 

And yet, here was Eponine, headed out of the same door she always was. Like the changing of seasons: Eponine walked past and the sun gleamed. Eponine skipped a Wednesday afternoon and the wind stung Cosette’s face. Her beautiful hair was the spring, her footsteps were the fall. 

A fixture of the spinning of the earth since they were little kids. It wasn’t magic, nor was it destiny. Just Eponine. 

That was better, somehow.

~

“Can I get your number?” 

“How come?” 

“Marius, Courfeyrac and me are going to hang out tonight. I know you know them, I just thought I’d ask if you wanted to go?” 

“You want to hang out with me?”

“Why not?” 

“You know there are a lot of reasons why not, Cosette.” 

“I do.” 

It all just hung in the air for a second. Chill wind. 

“I still want you to come.”

“Does Marius?”

“I don’t see why he’d mind.” 

“What about-“ 

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Cosette said. “But if you do, then I can text you. We can make it a thing.” 

“A thing?”

“A routine. Something we do together.” 

A lot of words went unsaid that day. They didn’t know what would be said, or when, or how. That wasn’t part of the plan. 

“Here,” said Eponine. “Give me your phone and I’ll put it in.” 

Cosette could feel herself smiling. 

They went to the movies with Marius and Courfeyrac that Saturday. The week after that was the bookstore, because it was so close to September already and Eponine needed new textbooks. The wind changed from sweet to minty, but nothing was too much now. The time passed. 

Eponine took Cosette to dye her hair neon green again. 

[pyromaniacbibliophile]

Stars (Eponine and Euphrasie)

For LesMisOctober24

Eponine has always loved the stars. They were her escape. She used to climb onto the roof and look at them for hours. She brought Euphrasie up there once. It was nice. 

After that it was her and Euphrasie’s special place. They used to climb up there every night. One night it was so windy that the two small girls were nearly blown off. It was the scariest thing that had happened to either of them. 

They still went back the next night.

When Euphrasie left it was different. The stars didn’t seem right without her best friend lying next to her. She tried to think that Euphrasie would still be looking at the stars wherever she was but it didn’t help. Eponine never pretended to be anything other than selfish when it came to Euphrasie. 

By the time Gavroche was old enough to climb they were on the streets. Dad never wanted them in the house anyway, so they were kicked out. Of course, any money they made would go straight back to her parents, but apart from that they were alone. Alone and free. 

It wasn’t too hard, in the heart of Paris, to find a fallen down house. After that it was easy enough to take brick after brick and hide them away in their alley. Cement was easily stolen from the builders. Glass was a luxury but it could be found in the Seine without too much work. 

Eponine found a battered old meadow just across the bridge. She set Gavroche to mudlarking while she stirred cement and placed bricks. By the time she had built what resembled a tiny house her and Gavroche’s hands were cut to pieces yet they had shelter and enough glass to make a few windows dotted around the structure. 

Sleeping on bricks wasn’t fun, but the siblings coped until Eponine could steal enough fabric scraps to make their floor into a nest. One day, when hanging around the dressmakers, she met Marius. 

Marius who was a naive student with old money and an apartment falling around his ears. 

Marius who liked her brother and didn’t frown on her for stealing. 

Marius who introduced her as ‘my best friend’ without shame. 

Marius who she might be falling in love with, just a bit. 

Only she never takes him to look at the stars.

Then he comes to her all excited, talking about this girl he’s seen in town. Eponine knows the signs well enough and smiles even while her heart breaks. Marius is in love. Gavroche, now a teenager, asks if he should punch Marius or find his new girl and ‘rough her up a bit’.

Eponine tells him not to, she always does. It’s nice to have someone to defend you, though. 

He says her name is Cosette. Eponine learns a lot about Cosette over the next month. She’s beautiful and sweet and clever and so many other things. Eponine carefully doesn’t think about how Marius thinks she doesn’t know anything because she’s poor. Doesn’t think about how she could never be ‘sweet’. Doesn’t think about the fact that she isn’t beautiful. 

She is taken to meet Cosette, Marius so excited he’s buzzing. They wait on a park bench until She arrives. 

Then she actually does arrive and Eponine is whisked back to the times when she had a best friend like a sister: Lying on a cold roof looking at the stars and talking about everything and nothing. 

“E-Euphrasie?” 

She’s having a similar reaction, Eponine guesses, as recognition flashes and Euphrasie runs forward and squeezes the air out of her. 

“Eponine oh Eponine is it really you I missed you so much my name’s Cosette now though oh Eponine!” words are tangling in Eponine’s ears but she knows she’s smiling like she rarely does. 

Marius is watching, slightly bemused. He sits down and looks up at the stars. They’re very bright tonight.

__________________________

@lesmis-prompts hope you like, I have Plans to do more :)

[vynegar]

marius 3rd birthday card excerpt

happy birthday marius!!! this excerpt includes the (HEARTBREAKING!!) flashback scene as well as a short scene that continued that storyline of the von Hagen family. i really loved this card and i hope you’ll enjoy this excerpt of it too!

disclaimer: this is a fan translation and i am not fluent in chinese, so keep in mind that there will be mistakes. feel free to let me know if you have questions, concerns, or comments.

do not repost without explicit permission. if you want to quote this or reference parts of the translation, credit and link back to me.

check my masterlist for more translations.

timestamps go along with the card video here. it’s not mine, please support the uploader Hikari Sherry Gaming by liking/commenting/subscribing.

Title: Fireflies and Darkness (萤影同归)

Context:

Lately, Marius has been busy at Pax with a project that Giann had been planning before he disappeared. Meanwhile, MC is planning Marius’s birthday celebration and wants to do it the way he would celebrate when he was a child. Marius describes how they would celebrate privately as a family at the von Hagen estate. Also, every year Giann would fill up a room with fireflies, which he said represented their mother celebrating Marius’s birthday. MC suggests they go to von Hagen estate to celebrate his birthday.

At the estate, MC and Marius end up cleaning out a study room. MC finds a box of Marius’s old exams, but among all the scores of 100, a 59 stands out. Giann’s name is signed at the top of the paper [where the parent/guardian is supposed to sign the exam, to show that they’ve seen the score and most likely went over it with their child]. All the answers would be correct though, they’re just off by one question. Marius eventually explains:

[16:23]

Marius smiled as he took the yellowed midterm exam from my hands. Nostalgically, he traced his finger over the unsightly number.

Marius: Before I talk about this exam, let me first tell you a story about a foolish little brother who protected his older brother in a childish way.

MC: ...

Marius: A long time ago, there was a family of a father and two sons. The matriarch of the family passed away when the younger brother was born. As a result, they were especially loving toward this younger brother who had never had a mother, and always reserved the best things for him.

MC: (This story...)

Marius: When the little brother was seven, the father transferred all of the assets left behind by the mother to the boy’s name. This sparked widespread discussion from the outside world, as they believed the marriage between the boy's parents was a dirty transaction. Otherwise, how could they force the mother to give birth to him while she was severely ill? Everyone could see that the young brother was more similar to his father, in both appearance and personality. For a short time, practically everyone believed that the father would leave the role of heir to the younger brother. Even though the younger brother thought that was ridiculous, the rumors still impacted his older brother.

MC: How could that happen...

Marius gently squeezed my hand in reassurance, indicating that I should continue listening to his story.

Marius: The younger brother noticed how much pressure his older brother was under at that time, how he often had sleepless nights. So the boy wanted to disqualify himself from becoming heir. That way, his older brother would be his father's only option.

He looked up and smiled, as if thinking it were funny, but my heart couldn't help but ache. The younger brother in the story was probably Marius himself. He was only seven years old, yet he had to deal with this kind of situation...

MC: So your silly solution was to get the questions wrong on purpose, to make everyone think you were dumb and unqualified to be his heir?

Marius knew that I guessed who the story was about. He smiled and pinched my cheek, nodding.

Marius: Yeah. But my brother was smart enough to catch on immediately.

MC: What did he do when he realized?

Marius: Well, he was angry of course. When we got home, he furiously dragged me into the study to ask me why.

As Marius recounted the story, it was as if I returned to that past along with him...

[flashback]

... and saw the seventeen-year-old older brother drag his seven-year-old younger brother through the long hallway, slam open the door, and "confront" him in the study. The misunderstood boy was forced in front of the table by his still-adolescent older brother, who was holding the exam paper and questioning him.

Giann: Marius, why did you answer the questions wrong on purpose?

Marius: ...

The boy gripped his sleeves and clenched his teeth – silent, as if that could let the incident pass by quietly. In reponse, Giann knelt down so he was eye-level with Marius, then sighed helplessly.

Giann: Marius*, as a child of the von Hagen family, grades have never been the number one priority. But there's a difference between not being gifted at something and getting it wrong on purpose. I know you're smart, and you got all the right answers. Something must have happened to make you do this. Am I right?

Marius: ...

Giann: Tell your big brother why you did this. If you just stay silent, I'll worry.

When Giann was angry, little Marius was able to hold back his tears. But when he was softly comforting him, the boy's tears finally overflowed.

The tears poured out before Marius might have even realized it. He hurriedly wiped them away, but the more he did that, the more the tears came. In that moment, all the fear and worries that he had been enduring during that time burst out.

Marius: I'm sorry, Giann... *sob*... I'm sorry...

Giann: ...

Marius: I made things so hard for you. It's my fault... that they won't let you be heir. I... I don't want those shares, I just want you and Dad... *sob*...

Marius stuttered out the feelings that he had been holding inside the whole time.

Giann: Marius...

Possibly because he had never seen Marius cry so grievously before, Giann hesitated when he reached out to wipe away Marius's tears... Then, he finally gave an aching sigh. Having grown up in the von Hagen family, he quickly guessed what Marius had experienced. And this was only the beginning. In the future, they would encounter more situations like this, which was burden they had to bear. But as long as their family trusted in each other, no rumor could shake the strength of their relationship.

Giann: Marius, Dad actually asked me for my opinion before giving the Pax shares to you.

Marius: You... already knew?

Giann: Yeah. And I agreed.

Marius: But... why?

Giann: Obviously because... my little brother is the best little brother in the world. And… you've never had Mom to take care of you. The funds used to establish Pax Capital** all came from Mom. So transferring the shares to you was probably Dad's way of making up for Mom not being there to protect you.

Giann thought that his words would make Marius stop crying, but didn't realize that it would make him sob even harder.

Giann: Huh? W-why... why are you crying even harder now...? Marius... Don't cry... Is it because I was mad at you earlier? Hey, I was just pretending, how could I actually be mad at you...

Seeing his brother's self-reproach, Marius shook his head while wiping his tears.

Marius: I've... always felt like I was the one who killed Mom. Because of me, Dad was misunderstood, and you've had such a hard time. It's all my fault... Giann, should I have never been born?

Marius gazed tearfully at his brother as he spoke his greatest fear aloud. His young mind didn't even know what answer he wanted to hear, but his doubts over his life had made him unable to endure it any longer.

[END PART TWO]

[PART THREE]

[22:29] Study

Giann pulled Marius into a hug. The boy's small body shook uncontrollably as he sobbed in his brother's arms.

Giann: What kind of a silly idea is that? You have no idea how much Mom was looking forward to you back then. She even made me promise that no matter what happened in the future, I would always protect you, so that you could grow up happy and healthy.

Marius: R-really?

Marius sniffled, like he still had his doubts. After all, the role of "Mom" had always been empty in his life. Giann, understanding how his brother felt, let go of Marius, turned and gripped Marius by the shoulders, then nodded his head seriously.

Giann: Yes, really. Do you remember the fireflies that are there for your birthday every year?

Marius: ...Yeah...

Giann: That was Mom's idea.

Marius: Why?

Giann: She said that if you can see the fireflies, then that was her celebrating your birthday.

Marius: ...

Giann: So Marius , you don't need to blame yourself. You're my precious little brother. No matter what happens, your big brother will do everything he can to protect you. Got it?

Marius: Got it.

[end flashback]

Marius: My brother always kept his promise to our mother to protect me. Even if he was pressured or wronged, he would always prioritize me.

The memory of the exam paper reminded Marius of Giann's disappearance and the stalled project. No matter how well he hid it, I could still sense his worry and disappointment. I hugged him gently. He stiffened for a moment, then patted my back like nothing had happened.

Marius: You don't need to feel bad for me. Yes, there were things I didn’t have before I met you, but I was well protected too. In a way, I really did grow up happy and healthy like my mother wanted. That's how I became the excellent person that you met.

MC: Yes, thank you for becoming so excellent.

[…]

[jump to 36:01, at the von Hagen Estate]

As for the remaining time, I shifted my focus to preparing for Marius's birthday. Everything was pretty much ready, and all that remained was the last step: the devices for attracting fireflies. I found many methods online that were simple and harmless for the fireflies, but...

MC: (Where do I go to find fireflies? Maybe I should ask Mr. Payton. After all, he's familiar with the von Hagen Estate.)

Just as I was about to look for Mr. Payton, I saw him return from the garden.

MC: Mr. Payton, you're back! I happen to have something to ask you.

Payton: By all means, what can I help you with?

MC: Do you still remember when Marius was a kid, how every year there would be fireflies on his birthday?

Payton: The fireflies? Yes, I remember. Those were a surprise that Master Giann would prepare for Master Marius.

MC: Do you know where the fireflies were from?

Payton: They live in the small forest behind the von Hagen Estate.

MC: Whoa, they're that close?

I had a feeling that the fireflies wouldn't be too far away, but I didn't think they'd be right at von Hagen estate.

Payton: It’s because those fireflies were all personally raised by Sir and Master Giann. Back then, Sir put quite a bit of effort into hiding it from Master Marius.

MC: So you mean, Uncle Austin knows about that story too?

Payton: Yes. When his mother departed, Master Giann was still just a child. He couldn't have done all of that by himself.

It turned out that everyone had put in so much work in order to protect Marius. However, growing up in such a loving environment was what allowed him to become who he was today.

MC: Are those fireflies still there?

Payton: They are. This ritual has been on pause ever since Master Marius left to study abroad, but Sir and Master Giann still work hard every year to maintain the forest and ensure the fireflies can survive.

MC: ...

Mr. Payton's words made me realize that it had been a long time since Marius celebrated his birthday at home. He went abroad at a young age, leaving his home to pursue the path of an artist, and then returned to bear his responsibilities when his brother disappeared... He was forced to grow up from a doted-on young master to an independent acting CEO. He protected his family members in his own way, but always forgot to protect himself.

Well, I could protect him.

MC: Mr. Payton, I want to recreate this birthday ritual. Could you help me?

Payton: Of course.

 * Translation note: Giann uses 小和, which is a way of making a nickname out of Marius’s name. I originally had it as “Mar” but changed it for consistency with “Will of the Trees” SSR.

** Pax Capital is Pax’s investment firm. We actually already knew that it was their mother’s legacy; this was the branch of Pax that we saw right at the end of chapter one (1-17), when Marius (still without a full face and name) chewed out the managers for investing in a shady business with his mother’s legacy. So with this card, it seems like our first glimpse of Marius was of him protecting the first piece of Pax that he ever got.

[hekateinhell]

Hi! I'm a show watcher that's been trying to get into the books. I have seen around that Armand vowed to never make a fledgling but broke this vow for Daniel. Why did he vow to never turn another person?

Hi! 🖤

Okay, just a head's up - there's no real way I can give a detailed answer without spoilers so save this for later if you'd like to avoid them for now!

Jumping in, Armand actually touches on this topic in TVA and gives a somewhat straightforward response:

I was a firm believer that those we make ourselves will always despise us for it. I cannot claim that I have never despised Marius, both for making me and never returning to me to assure me that he had survived the horrible fire created by the Roman Coven. I had sought Louis rather than create others.

Armand never wanted to create other vampires, which is really no surprise given how horrible most of his lived experience as a vampire had been.

He also seems to have a preference for communicating via the Mind Gift, almost as if comes easier to him than communicating verbally. When a vampire turns a human, it closes off their minds to each other forever — something Armand particularly emphasizes in his tirade to Lestat in TVL when he mentions 'the veil' aka 'veil of silence':

"Oh, but it's always a travesty, don't you see?" he [Armand] said with that same gentleness. "Each time the death and the awakening will ravage the mortal spirit, so that one will hate you for taking his life, another will run to excesses that you scorn. A third will emerge mad and raving, another a monster you cannot control. One will be jealous of your superiority, another shut you out." And here he shot his glance to Gabrielle again and half smiled. "And the veil will always come down between you. Make a legion. You will be, always and forever, alone!"

Armand will never be able to communicate with his fledglings the way he can Lestat and others besides his own maker.

And interestingly enough, Armand did accurately prophesize the outcomes of several of Lestat's fledglings over the next hundred years. Gabrielle (shuts Lestat out); Nicki (goes mad); Louis (resents him); Claudia (need I say more?).

Even if Armand didn't have so much trauma from his own life and his maker abandoning him, I have to imagine bearing such close witness as to how the maker/fledgling dynamics played out for Lestat would be enough to make anyone second guess the whole idea. For Armand it must have served to reinforce every preconceived notion he had on the matter. He even said to Lestat:

"Remember that when your dark children strike out at you, when they rise up against you. Remember me."

And we have still to broach the final layer (in this post — dissecting the entire topic will end with me writing a dissertation and nobody wants that). But Armand was torn away from his maker at a very young age and he did spend the next three hundred years of his life in service of a Satanic cult, which was instrumental in shaping his perspective and driving home the belief that vampirism is the ultimate condemnation.

Yet in the centuries of his long obedience, Armand kept two secrets to himself. These were his property, these secrets, more purely his than the coffin in which he locked himself by day, or the few amulets he wore. The first was that no matter how great his loneliness, or how long the search for brothers and sisters in whom he might find some comfort, he never worked the Dark Trick himself. He wouldn't give that to Satan, no Child of Darkness made by him. ~ Lestat passing on Armand's story as it was told to him in TVL

In a way, I think it was the only measure of autonomy Armand felt he might have had during the cult years. He wouldn't give that to Satan! He wouldn't do that to another being!

And yet, eventually... he did.

And yes, Armand was different person by the end of Devil's Minion but it was obviously still a decision that pained him. One that he said he did out of loneliness but also love, and it's up to the reader to decide how hyperbolic Armand thought he was being when he tells Daniel as he's offering him the choice: "We'll be in hell together after all."

As an aside: it fascinates me how Armand and Lestat both suffered from this agonizing loneliness and yet they each approached it in entirely opposite ways.

[desertfangs]

Necessity - Marius/Pandora - 948 words

Pandora watches Marius get frustrated and leave a council meeting, and follows him out to talk. Written for the @vcmicroficmay prompt "Necessary." I just reread Pandora and I've had her on my mind lately.

Marius tries to play it cool but Pandora sees his jaw tighten and his glare harden. Fareed is speaking at the front of the room, but no one is really listening. Lestat is smirking at Armand, clearly feeling like he got the better of him somehow in some unspoken game. Armand, for his part, sits statue-still, blank as a canvas, pretending not to be bothered. But beneath the table Pandora can see his fists clenched tight. 

Beside him, Daniel clicks a pen over and over until Viktor yanks it away from him. Daniel looks abashed, swallows, and tries to focus on Fareed.

Gregory might actually be listening but Pandora sees his rigid posture and the deliberate way he does not turn to look at the rest of the conference table.

Pandora watches Marius’ anger build. He tries to contain it but then Lestat makes some gesture at Armand, and Armand finally breaks his composure, sneering back. Then Benji’s phone blares some tinny, annoying ringtone and Marius explodes like a volcano. A slow flowing one, where the lava oozes out slowly into the sea, but a volcano nonetheless. 

He stands abruptly and leaves the conference room. Fareed, consummate professional, only pauses briefly before continuing his talk about results of his recent experiments exposing vampire blood to the sun. 

Pandora stands, more gingerly than Marius, though it is impossible to do so surreptitiously. She ignores the looks of the others as she follows Marius out into the hall. He’s gone all the way down the long corridor and turned the corner, where he now stands with his back against the wall, his eyes closed. 

“You’re in a mood tonight,” she says. 

Marius opens one eye. “I’m taking a short break.” 

Pandora folds her arms over her chest. “You know, there’s a trick professors use where they clap their hands and tell the class to pay attention. Then they don’t need to storm out of the room.” 

Marius sighs heavily. “What do you know of modern academics?” 

Pandora laughs. “I audited several classes at Vassar years ago.” 

Marius opens his mouth and then closes it again. She can tell he has questions but he won’t show interest, not now. He’s too busy being grumpy. 

“Fareed is an interesting fellow and his experiments are fascinating, but not everyone signed up for science class,” Pandora says.

“It’s not too much to ask that they pay attention for the duration of a weekly meeting,” Marius says. 

Pandora has to hide her smile. He’s so irritated by the tomfoolery, and she wonders what he expected when this Court was formed. Surely he remembers their time on Night Island and how any attempt to have a large group meeting was often foiled by something or another. The fact that he regularly manages to get them to the conference room is a feat in and of itself. 

“Don’t take it so personally. It’s not like it was your talk that was boring them.” 

He shakes his head. “It’s necessary that we make this work. It’s a chance for our kind to truly be united for the first time, to remake the world together in ways we’ve never dreamt of before.” 

Pandora puts her hand on his shoulder. For a second, she thinks he’ll pull away but instead, he relaxes, his muscles unclenching. “It’s not necessary.”

Another glare. She resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“It’s good, this Court that you’ve built,” she says. “It will have enduring effects on our kind for millennia even if it doesn’t last the centuries.” Marius presses his lips together in a tight line. She hurries on before he can argue. “But you can’t always take it so seriously. People goof off in meetings. Haven’t you ever watched The Office?”  

Marius scoffs. “No. Have you?” 

She shrugs. Marius likes to pretend he’s above the mindlessness of television but she’s seen him curled up on the couch with Daniel while all sorts of inane things play on the screen. 

“I’m saying you can’t make this Court the cornerstone of your existence. It won’t last forever.” Marius opens his mouth to protest and Pandora holds up her free hand. “It can’t, because nothing does. Surely you and I can both attest to that. But that doesn’t mean every poorly received meeting is a harbinger of doom.” 

Marius is silent for a long moment. Finally, he says, ”I suppose there’s some wisdom to what you’re saying.” 

She beams at him. “Only some? And here I thought it was brilliant. I was going to offer to give the next talk.” 

Marius reaches out and runs one of her loose brunette curls through his fingers. “I’m afraid the schedule is booked for the next few months.” 

Pandora holds her breath while he touches her hair and then smooths her cheek with his delicate, long fingers. She thinks of taking them in her mouth, of dragging him somewhere they can be alone for a while and forget the meeting. 

Marius drops his hand and sadness overtakes his expression, hardening over it like ice. 

“You’re not the only one who seeks reasons to continue, you know,” Pandora says. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting a purpose. But you don’t need to be so severe.” 

“Severe?” A faint smile. 

She smiles back. “What’s that expression Lestat loves? If the shoe fits?” 

Marius laughs, the ice around him melting. He shakes his head and then pushes off the wall. “Come, let’s get back. Fareed deserves at least half an audience.” 

He extends his elbow. Surprised, Pandora takes his arm and lets him walk her back to the conference room, glad that he seems a little less irritable, at least for now.  

Cross-Posted to AO3