#what does armand exactly tell louis

[gabriestat]

"does he want to lick my boots or chop my hands off" louis knowing about nicki and what armand did to him is crazy though like did armand personally tell him? because if not him, then who? 'oh yeah nicki's hands. he was kinda going crazy so i cut his hands and then he killed himself. weird period in the coven but it was all fixed at the end, dear' most normal conversation to have with your lover who also was complicit in your daughter's death

[salmoncakepls]

...🦌?

[ariaste]

listen i've had a 100 degree fever for four days and i have not been able to string any thoughts together except for gently rotating Devil's Minion in my brain and the bleary conclusion i have come to is this:

we know armand is a control freak

we know armand has spooky psychic powers of imposing his desired reality on top of other people's lived realities

the interview is happening despite armand supposedly claiming that he thinks it's a bad idea

Armand gives in to participating in the interview awfully quick. including a theatrical reveal of his true self at exactly the right moment for maximum Drama.

therefore, stay with me here, I will argue that armand DOES ACTUALLY want the interview to be happening. Who else is going to be pushing for it? Louis??? If Louis pushed for something Armand didn't want, Armand would simply wipe it from Louis' mind and move on with his day. He has that power, and yet he didn't USE IT in this case. So that means that the little tissue paper objections are mostly for show and to camouflage his true intentions (see also, though: the scene in Paris where Louis comes in and is playing maitre and Armand offers just a teeny resistance of "oooh but i'm looking at Sam's new pages", so it's a documented behavior pattern). There is one exception, but we'll come back to that in a sec.

So then the questions are: Why does he want it to be happening now as opposed to any other time? What is his motivation for having it happen again at all? What changed between 1973 and now that caused this?

(the rest under a cut bc this is gonna get long and i don't wanna clutter people's dashes too much)

my wild fever hallucination theory rn is that armand (my canceled wife who i stand with) is manipulative and psychopathic enough that he may have looked at daniel at some point in the 1970s and said to himself "you know what, the one thing that I would change about him is if he was like 40 years older, because i'm kinda into that, and also maybe he hates me a little bit, because i'm kinda into that as well" and then set Daniel on the back burner to basically finish cooking into the Perfect Daddy Boyfriend.

so why is he doing this whole charade again? Because the first time Daniel had the interview, the end result was "omg omg omg make me a vampire PLEAAASE", right? So Armand's insane little brain is like "ok, so we do it again, and replicate the same results :) and this time i will win and get everything i want, just like always :))))"

Going back to the tissue-paper objections i mentioned above, the one exception that strikes true for me is when Armand tells Louis that he's lost control of the interview. What control? What control, babygirl? what are you trying to control about this interview? what is the goal that isn't being achieved rn? Are you worried that Daniel seems Jaded and Cynical and Unimpressed nowadays? Are you worried that Louis does not seem to be selling the Allure Of Being A Vampire as effectively as he did back then and that Daniel is not going to beg for it like he used to? Armand is so used to being around people who NEVER EVER CHANGE in hundreds of years and so maybe he has forgotten that mortals do change actually. Oh no. Science experiment cannot be replicated. Results are going awry. PANIC.

this would also explain why he keeps explaining himself to Daniel, censoring the diaries, and lying about his involvement in things. could it be that he thinks Daniel won't play along with what he's supposed to be doing (ie: being deeply into him) if he knows upfront that Armand is Fucknuts Crazy?

that is where he is wrong tho. Daniel thinks fucknuts crazy is irresistibly hot. Daniel "I want BOTH [to survive AND the book] >:\" Molloy, aka Daniel "YOU BOTH FUCKED LESTAT? :DDD" Molloy aka Daniel "Fascinating Boy" Molloy loves mess. he loves mess. he's an investigative journalist who interviews KGB agents and the most dangerous people in the world because he's an adrenaline junkie who sincerely loves the thrill of hanging out with people who might kill him. He has been chasing that high since 1973 (and I use that phrasing intentionally). Every time Armand tries to control the narrative and woobify himself and act like he's not absolutely insane bc actually he's innocent and blameless, he is shooting himself in the foot re: the pursuit of his endgame goals. And that's extremely funny to me. Bc Daniel's love language is "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU [enraptured, intrigued, captivated, fascinated]"

and in conclusion, that's why they're the ship of all time, ur honor. defense rests.

(will this make coherent sense once i'm not sick anymore? idk.)

[cuntylouis]

Even though we don't know exactly what was going on yet, these bits and pieces combined make me think that Armand didn't like at all that Louis was picking up men at bars. He comes across increasingly resentful in each scene, and positively hateful in the last one where he's talking to Daniel. In the middle scene he sounds so exasperated saying "with a boy" (there's a mistake in the subtitles) when completing Louis' sentence about things getting heated, giving an impression that this is something familiar he's tired of. It's interesting that Louis and Armand were proudly talking about their past threesomes to Daniel in Dubai, but in the 70s Armand didn't seem to be happy about what was going on. Though Louis asks him if he wants to join he immediately says no and tells Louis to "have your fun" with a small forced smile, like it's something he reluctantly accepts.

Of course there are probably other factors in play but i feel that Armand is much more jealous and possessive than you may assume at first glance. There's also what Assad said about Armand being insecure about Louis and Daniel's relationship and fearing that Daniel knows Louis better than he does. This is really becoming more apparent. Armand hates that Louis and Daniel have some sort of bond and that Louis found Daniel interesting and wanted to connect with him. Both in San Francisco and in Dubai. Like i saw some reviewers talk about love triangle but it's really starting to seem like an actual very unusual love triangle. Daniel just has no idea he's in one

[bombasticsalt]

Loustat and Loumand love vs fascination (take this analysis with no grammar because it's 1am)

One of the scenes that really sticks out to me with Loumand in season two is when Louis tells Armand he loves him and dreamstat starts laughing it's crazy because if this were a Louis and Lestat scene it would have been framed as dramatic and their would have been tears but it's comedic almost when Louis and Armand do it especially when you remember that we never see Louis tell Lestat he loves him yet we as the audience can obviously see he did. Both Armand and Lestat stalked Louis and they both had some sort of soft spot for him before they even actually talked to him and yet, look at how different the way Louis views their first meeting as he says he left the meeting with Lestat thinking only of him but Lestat was real he said things that he meant with Armand it's almost like their meeting is framed as some meetcute he says I will not harm you which yeah sounds sweet until you consider the fact that meetings later he talks about killing Louis. Ever since they met Armand has been presenting himself as a sheep in wolfs clothing and you can say a lot about Lestat but for all his acting he showed Louis who he really was before Louis got in too deep he shows Louis his temper he shows Louis his passions his ramblings his privilege everything I think that says something that Armand would rather pretend to be anything else but what he is a dangerous predator.

And the worst part is it still doesn't work sure love at first sight wasn't something to expect in a gothic romance but listen to how Louis describes meeting Lestat he wanted to be the man and murder the man when Louis was at the party getting ready to kill Lestat he still wanted him all to himself there was this passion for Lestat since their first meeting yeah sure Louis at the moment thinks of this memory fondly but at that time when it happened he was confused like the scene was almost eerily sweet to me

I don't think Louis feels absolutely nothing for Armand I think Louis thinks he loves Armand or at least Armand interests him at first he loves armand in the way you love a spring fling that you don't expect to last through the winter it's fun, interesting and new and that's the main problem with Loumand it lasted way longer than it should have because both Louis and Armand can't be alone a spring fling is nice during the spring when you're bored and depressed but what about when you have a thousand other things you could be doing and you're stuck in a marriage thats like a candle that went out almost five seconds after you lit it for 77 years when the person stops being interesting and fun what's really left of the relationship? Love? Yeah sure maybe but not when you know there's a person out there you loved more than anybody else somebody like Lestat

I feel like this is further proved by how Lestat and Armand react to the boys Louis confides in, for Lestat it was Jonah he got mad about Jonah because he famously heard their hearts dancing and felt the affection Louis had for Jonah especially since Lestat was a lot for Louis. It seems like Lestat thought Louis could fall in love with Jonah and leave him and for Lestat leaving equates with somebody not loving him anymore what threatens Lestat is the idea Louis might not love him and that's ultimately what Lestat wants love he needs attention more than we ever see him need blood he's greedy for it. However, with Daniel he didn't even sleep with Louis so what threatens Armand isn't that Louis might not love him anymore it's that Louis finds Daniel more interesting than him because I think deep down that Armand knows that their love was short lived and the only reason why Louis was still with him was desperation and fascination because Armand knows things even though Louis isn't exactly always curious about vampires he taught Louis how to use fire he does know things that prove useful he clearly doesn't care all that much about the great laws if he let Daniel live this experience because it was never about the great laws it's about Lestat the first interview was a call out to Lestat from Louis and Armand knew that I'm not saying love isn't involved but I'm saying I believe in my opinion it was more about him not wanting Louis to leave because Armand believes he needs a master he needs somebody else to pretend like they have control over him sure yeah him calling Louis Maitre is just for fun he doesn't have to listen to Louis in fact he doesn't listen to Louis sure he keeps Daniel alive but also he turns Daniel eventually Armand is so interesting to me because Armand is a puppet master who wants to feel like a puppet because he never really realized he got cut loose from his strings that's why he potrays himself as helpless even his clothes are meant to make him seem smaller than he actually is he makes people do things for him indirectly TWICE he lets Lestat and Louis destroy his cult coven and then hides behind the words I could not prevent it. Both Lestat and Armand are afraid that Louis will leave them but for different reasons Lestat's afraid Louis will leave him because Louis doesn't love him and Armand literally fucking tortures Daniel aesthetictly just because he's afraid Louis finds him boring he has to be fascinating or else Louis will leave.

Another reason that really shows the differences between Love and fascination is what Louis says to both of them when he wants to hurt them, Louis tells Lestat that's why he's always going to be alone and why they won't work because Louis knows Lestat he knows the thing that will hurt Lestat more than anything else is threatening to take his love and affection away and leave him all alone because Lestat is also a part of the three musketeers of making bad decisions because he can't handle being alone, with Armand though Louis calls him boring because for Louis the worst possible thing to say to Armand isn't I won't love you anymore and I'll leave it's you're boring something that hurts Armand worse if Armand isn't fascinating or fun to Louis then what's the point? What's the point to be in a marriage of spite what's the point of living if Claudia is dead Lestat fucked off to God knows where after the trial and Louis's only companion has lost all the traits that make him want to stay but Louis would rather die than be alone and unloved. But for Loumand the words I love you are like a dagger in both instances when Louis says it (it's fucking 3:46 am if they say it more than twice I'll edit) it's mocked dreamstat laughs Louis laughs while saying it in San Frisco. Love is a weapon when Louis verbally says it after Paul's death. In fact Louis not saying he loves Lestat seems more romantic than him telling Armand he does. Because we as the viewers know he loves Lestat in the way he talks about him, the way he remembers Lestat's ramblings, the way he reacts to Lestat telling him about Magnus, because even though Louis memory has bias ultimately he remembers Lestat as this beautiful monster who he was in love with we're shown that he loves him. But with Armand and Louis we're told their in love but when is it shown with Loustat their was an intimacy in the shadows because they were in a openly homophobic town but with Loumand their relationship seems more like a performance they hold hands in public but in private they're divided when Louis was supposedly falling in love with Armand in Paris he says they aren't companions to Santiago and I think that's why Armand lied about saving Louis because that was the only major thing he could do that would make Louis want to stay, Lestat turned Claudia for Louis in his love Lestat brought the azalea for Louis because he loves him he shows Louis he loves him but what does Armand do? He threatens to kill Louis he won't turn Madeline for Louis sure he tells Louis he loves him but it's not shown not like how Lestat's love is. AND LESTAT DOES IT AGAIN he saves Louis again he proves that he loves Louis again when Armand can't or won't the only thing is the opportunity presented itself where Armand could take the credit for it he could please the coven and keep the guy at the same time because if Armand wouldn't have taken credit for that they wouldn't have stayed together he would have left. Would Louis have gotten back together with Lestat? Probably not but the point is the 77 years wouldn't have happened. Daniel calls it a seismic lie because it is that's what the relationship is based on that's the reason Louis stayed because he felt like he owed it to Armand and that's why he doesn't hesitate to leave Armands when he learns it.

I think that's what makes Loumand so interesting is that Louis doesn't want someone soft he wants the chaos back of Lestat once it's taken away he doesn't want a manipulative pillow who hides all his flaws and does everything he says he wants Lestat who screams back at him with the same passion that burns like a furnace Lestat who can't help but be so passionate about everything he does Lestat who does too much and that passion makes Lestat feel so human even when he's doing the most inhumane things whereas Armand acts as if he's above it all like he's some type of God but also portraying himself as weak and helpless in other situations that makes him so inhumane which could also be why Daniel ends up falling for him.

[alleyskywalker]

Some of Louis’ choices in the finale do make me raise my eyebrows a little bit at him. He's got all the right to be pissed at Armand, no question. But why does this automatically redeem Lestat in his eyes? OK, sure, Lestat saves him - that's new information to him, but...First, this doesn't change anything about Lestat's part in Claudia's death (which is what he primarily confronted him about in the tower) nor the fact that Lestat willingly participated in the trial. Nor does it change the fact that Armand saved him from being starved to death. Technically, they both saved Louis, but at different points and in different ways. (If Armand really wanted him dead, he could have just left him in the wall or could have warned the coven about Louis’ plan to destroy/attack them, etc. And even though he lied about the proportion of his role, Armand had already admitted to knowing that the coven was planning to kill Louis and Claudia. And…Louis makes the choice to warn Armand to not be at the theater before he gets the “full” story of how much Armand knew/participated. At that point, all Louis “knew” was that Armand had saved him, which…wasn’t even technically a lie in and of itself, just, again the degree of things.)

So, what really changes re: Armand and Lestat in the final reveal? For Armand: he participated in the trial more actively and in saving Louis less than originally supposed. For Lestat: he participated in saving Louis, whereas initially Louis thought he hadn’t. So ultimately…both Armand and Lestat actively participate in the trial and then both participate in saving Louis. (Granted, Armand lies more in the process. But on the other hand – Armand can’t really be expected to care about Claudia and Lestat can; Armand had attachments and commitments to the coven and Lestat didn’t…) If Louis had just walked away from Armand as well, that’s fair enough. But how does Lestat suddenly warrant a reconciliation (and apology??) when a similar level of participation in this whole debacle warrants Armand – Louis’ partner for decades, whom he had supposedly forgiven for the worst of what happened in Paris, who has stuck with him through various self-destructive behavior trying to fix what he'd broken – an immediate break up (with some physical violence to boot) with no questions asked? (And he has to be at least somewhat over it if he hasn’t bothered to hunt down Sam despite them knowing all about where he is and what he’s up to these days.)

Speaking of questions for Louis, here’s one. So, Armand claims that the coven “improvised” a death sentence from the word banishment. He says this in the context of claiming that he saved Louis by mind controlling the crowd into sentencing Louis to banishment instead of death. But what if��it’s not true that the coven “improvised”? Perhaps “banishment” has a double meaning or gets used as a euphemism for those sentenced to die of starvation in the wall or just who get buried in those crypts after committing crimes. I’m not saying, btw, that this is indeed so, but we don’t actually have evidence that it isn’t. Satiago getting flustered at first indicates that this isn’t a formal way to refer to this kind of punishment/sentencing at least, but when he tells the coven to “tuck him in nice and tight” everyone know exactly what he means, so there’s a basis to assume  the possibility of some common understanding of banishment = getting shoved into the wall, alive or not, whether slang, euphemism or similar. So, let’s for a second assume this is true.

Armand wouldn’t admit this context to Louis while he’s lying about saving him at the trial, because it takes away from Armand’s role as his savior, so if he’s going to lie about mind controlling the crowd, he has to lie/bend the truth about how much the coven needed to improvise to arrange for a death sentence regardless. It also makes sense then that Armand might not have taken this road to trying to save Louis, in fear/knowledge that it would/could just come out worse.

So, what of Lestat? Lestat knows the rules, conventions, and language customs around the coven because, well, he founded/was part of it. So if “banishment” could be easily interpreted as “banishment to starve in the wall,” then Lestat would know that or could be expected to. Yet, this is the punishment he chose when he could have mind controlled the crowd into saying anything. Hell, why didn’t he mind control them into saying “not guilty?” Would have solved a lot of issues, yk?  Would this make Lestat kinda extra vengeful/sadistic? Sure, but…he did just willingly participate as the star witness in a trial to burn Louis and their “daughter” to death. Is this really sooo out of character from what Louis knows or thinks he knows about Lestat at that point in time? Like, not even to question Daniel’s suggestion that Lestat saved him – even though, the script is not actually evidence of that, just that Armand might have had a more extensive role in the play? (And…he could have still been under duress to direct it as much as he would have been to just not tell Louis about it. But Louis doesn’t ask about/consider this either.)

I’m not saying that’s how it went, mind. The reunion scene with Lestat makes it pretty clear that Lestat had in fact wanted to save Louis. But Louis can’t/doesn’t know this, certainly not prior to the reunion scene. Did Lestat actually save him? Is there any other context he might be missing? This is just a theory Daniel has after all. Does Claudia’s death no longer matter then? Doesn’t this just mean that both Lestat and Armand belatedly tried to save him? He’s obviously shocked and not thinking straight – I’m not saying this to bash him or anything (and leaving Armand would have been a justified reaction regardless, just for the lying). But it’s kinda crazy to me that Louis is apparently so eager to believe the worst of Armand and find any reason possible to forgive Lestat at the drop of a hat.  

I don’t really have a point here. Just…need to throw thoughts into the void because the show melted my brain a bit. Forgive me, etc. I do love/enjoy all these characters.

[gallierhouse]

Thoughts on Armand being too much for literally everyone except Daniel? Is it because he’s a reporter? Does that give him a set of skills/damage that make him better equipped to handle Armand’s bullshit? I just keep going back to Armand being so unwilling to make another vampire. He wouldn’t even do it for Louis. But he does it for Daniel. And I also have a theory that Armand signed on for this second interview because he wanted out of the relationship with Louis. He wanted the relationship blown up and he wanted Daniel back. I think he got exactly the result he wanted.

Daniel’s a freak. That’s all there is to it. Daniel’s a freak who likes danger and the unknown with an unbreakable spine. He’s 50% dogged persistence and 50% fascination for danger and he has an interesting relationship with self-preservation. There’s the element of him being able to see through Armand, but I don’t think that’s because of his finely honed skillset as an investigative reporter, it’s more because he’s the sharpest tool in a shed of fairly dull tools. Claudia saw through his bullshit and she wasn’t a reporter; she just wasn’t blind. Daniel’s capable of recognizing Armand in a way no other character can because either his lies work on them or they don’t care enough to peel back the facade or a combination of the two, so there’s already a better foundation for whatever relationship they may have since it’s built on honesty. Daniel’s also already seen Armand being monstrous, so there’s no pressing need for Armand to disguise that aspect of him, like there was in his marriage to Louis. Sometimes love is just about someone seeing you for what you are and still sticking around. That’s it.

I think Armand wanted to keep his marriage, really, like he wanted to keep the coven, and like he wanted to keep the cult. He’s an opportunist who’ll jump ships if it helps him survive, but he likes stability and familiarity and the status quo. It’s why he chooses the coven over Louis. But once something’s gone he tells himself he never wanted to keep it so it’s easier to pretend that he let go of it instead of having to remember he lost it.

[disregardandfelicity]

The boy filled his glass and held it up now in a salute. "My master," he said, his eyes flashing on me as he smiled; but the toast was to Armand.

"Your slave," Armand whispered with a deep intake of breath that was passionate.

"What can I do to make you love me? " he whispered. "What can I give?"

"Tell me what you want, Daniel, and I'll get it for you. Why do you keep running away?"

Armand does only what Louis wants. He is Louis's creature, and that's in the nature of their sexuality, the nature of the relationship between them that's been established over 70-some years. So ... he wouldn't do that without permission. He lives to serve. Exactly.

"You're not my slave at all, are you?" I whispered. "Yes," he said, almost laughing again. "I am, if you must know."

Interview with the Vampire | The Vampire Lestat | Queen of the Damned | Hannah Moscovitch - Autumn Brown | The Vampire Companion | The Vampire Armand

[lizardkingeliot]

I rewatched 1x07 and 2x01 yesterday and I can’t believe how much I missed when I was still a ~casual fan holy shit. It might just be the fact that I have more context now, but Armand saying “I protect Louis from himself” at the end of 1x07 sure does feel a lot like “he preserves my happiness” from 2x05 where we learn that… you know. Armand has definitely done some reprogramming in Louis’ head. I can’t believe it took me so long to pick up on what’s happening because it’s so obvious now… 😭

And the stuff about Claudia writing she didn’t dream in her diary and then Louis remembering that wasn’t true? That feels… significant. That they would make it a point to tell us in the first episode of the season that some of the things Claudia wrote about are just straight up lies.

There’s also this part in the 1x07 inside the episode where Rolin says something like… is this a story Louis is telling or is this a story Armand told to Louis. Which has me very 👀👀👀 and if nothing else is a reminder I need to not skip those because I hardly ever watch them lol.

Anyway I don’t know what point I’m trying to make here and I still don’t have a clue how far they’re going to take this and what exactly will be recontextualized or be shown to be outright false but this really is such a mind fuck and an exceptionally cool way to tell a story…

[my-coven-is-claudia]

Daniel, Louis and their “strange alliance”

this quote from eric from a pre-season 2 interview has been rattling inside my brain for far too long so i want to break down a scene from season 1 that has gained some newly-found importance.

in 1x02 daniel and louis sit down to have dinner as louis recounts an experience of attending the opera with lestat and its bloody end. what’s most interesting about this sequence is less so to do with what happened at loustat’s opera date but more so this surprisingly touching moment between louis and daniel.

it starts off with louis mentioning how the dessert served for him and daniel is taken from a off-handed remark in daniel’s memoir.

this suggests A LOT. it seems to imply that louis has attentively read daniel’s memoir and likely has a genuine vested interest in daniel as a person outside of what he can do for him in relation to rejigging his jumbled memories. you can’t tell from this screenshot but he almost seems embarrassed that he went to such lengths with making sure to serve up this exact dessert that daniel mentioned. and the fact that it was an “offhanded remark” also drives me insane. he either read through daniel’s memoir and specifically noted down this mention about the dessert or realised that he wanted to share a meal with daniel and proceeded to scour his memoir in order to find mentions of food he likes. there is also the possibility that he asked one of his servants to read through the book again but we know for sure that louis read daniel’s memoir himself at some point. whatever the case louis went to the effort of making sure daniel would get to eat something familiar and that he most definitely liked. he did that to make daniel feel comfortable.

this is especially significant as louis chooses to eat this dessert alongside daniel, despite the fact that it tastes like “paste” to him. he is actively choosing to eat something that tastes like gruel to him essentially and for what?? to appear less monstrous? to comfort daniel? maybe show that he still has some humanity left in him. it’s important to mention that this is in the aftermath of daniel confronting louis about how human readers likely won’t be sympathetic to louis and lestat’s need for blood to survive. however, it doesn’t come across as a calculated move to appear more appeasing to potential readers. this seems wholly for daniel’s sake.

louis - for whatever reason - is intentionally presenting himself as approachable and human to daniel.

this is followed up by daniel seemingly picking up on louis’s offer for connection and opening up about the woman that’s on everyone’s mind currently: alice.

daniel details how he proposed to alice in paris in a cafe (which lines up with the story he tells in 2x02) and names the street that it was located on. louis recognises this and verbalises it.

this is yet another grasp for connection, of understanding, between louis and daniel. louis wants to show daniel that he’s genuinely interested in his story, in him as a person by showing that’s he actively listening to him.

now, what we’ve all been waiting for.

this moment is the whole reason why i want to tear this scene apart!! this is probably up there with daniel offering louis a break in 2x01 as one of the most sincere and vulnerable moments we’ve gotten from daniel, a typically cold and sarcastic character. whatever you think about the alice-armand parallels and who exactly he is truly talking about here, daniel is fondly speaking of someone now estranged from him. he remembers the little details about her, an insecurity that she was ashamed of that he completely adored! he loved her for who she was, imperfections and all.

and to top this all off daniel closes his laptop! he ends the session! he likely does this out of a mixture of embarrassment that he’s rambled about his ex-wife live on tape but also maybe a sign to louis that he’s taking this seriously. that he’s appreciative of him trying to meet him on his level. that this moment was real. by stripping away the symbol of the supposedly strictly professional nature of this reunion he may be signalling that this conversation is indeed important to him.

and the fact that daniel is able to even have this vulnerable moment with louis at all, reminiscing over his lost love (whilst louis is doing something very similar with lestat) is so intriguing! obviously louis and daniel are most definitely not strangers to one another but they aren’t best friends either. they haven’t seen each other in decades and for daniel especially this has been a very abrupt reunion. whether he likes it not, daniel likely relates on some level to louis’s complex feelings towards lestat, his lover. like louis, daniel may not miss his relationship with alice in relation to the toxic dynamic they shared (slight guess here but the revelation that she initially rejected his proposal suggests to me that their relationship was a bit rocky at least) but he most definitely misses her as a person and the memory of their time together.

finally, what closes off this scene is this… odd expression from louis. not entirely sure if i’m being too optimistic when i say that louis may be sympathising with daniel here but admittedly he does seem a little confused as well. but if this truly is meant to be a look of contempt i feel like it would’ve been more akin to louis’s more obviously disgusted reaction to the coven’s play in 2x02. instead, in this scene, i think louis simply did not expect daniel to so openly accept his offer of connection and is just stunned to hear this bristly old man reflect his own feelings so accurately. he’s finally found someone who understands his situation with lestat. someone who understands this dichotomy of longing and anguish all at the same time. obviously, their situations are not a 1:1 but this scene has always stood out to me as a parallel between daniel and louis’s previous relationships.

a key part about this whole daniel and louis form a “strange alliance” thing is that it seems to stem from the two men realising that they have a lot more in common than they initially believed. that’s why it’s “strange”: because it’s unexpected.

although in recent episodes they’re definitely at odds with each other, this scene combined with other sprinklings of subtle moments of connection suggest to me that daniel might become a genuine friend to louis. it is a strange friendship but they both want to get to the bottom of louis’s memories. no one else in dubai is able to tell louis how it really is and is able to actually push him to question the lies he’s been fed (and that he’s fed himself). intentionally or not, daniel is looking out for louis and is indirectly helping him to accept his past mistakes. maybe he sometimes pushes him too hard or says some stuff he probably shouldn’t but ultimately daniel is the catalyst for louis actually remembering the truth. without him louis would not have come as far as he as over the course of the series

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi! I haven't read the iwtv books so could you explain what you mean by Lestat keeping Louis and Claudia as mortal as possible? And it's something that Marius advised? I wouldn't mind any spoilers!

Have a nice day!

Hey!

So to expand on that a bit:

After Lestat was turned against his will and after he encountered the Children of Darkness and Armand he tries to find Marius, Armand's maker (and a true ancient, them calling Armand ancient is very funny to me tbh^^) to find some (more) answers.

Ultimately he does manage to rouse Marius' interest, and Marius raises him from a dirt nap and takes him to the island where he lives and cares for "Those Who Must Be Kept". (We know that also happened in the show in some kind of manner, because Lestat refers to TWMBK in ep7.)

Marius tells Lestat his life story, introduces him to Akasha and Enkil.

And he gives him advice (from "The Vampire Lestat"):

"If you mean to survive, you must live out one complete lifetime as soon as you can. To forestall it may be to lose everything, to despair and to go into the earth again, never to rise. Or worse. . . " [...] "Then do as I advise. And understand this also. In a real way, eternity is merely the living of one human lifetime after another. Of course, there may be long periods of retreat; times of slumber or of merely watching. But again and again we plunge into the stream, and we swim as long as we can, until time or tragedy brings us down as they will do mortals. " [...] "Exactly, make them in love. And make certain they have had some lifetime before you make them; and never never make one as young as Armand. That is the worst crime I have ever committed against my own kind, the taking of the young boy child Armand. "

But he also gives him a warning:

"You know why not. I can't have you or anyone else know the location of Those Who Must Be Kept. And that brings us now to something very important: the promises I must have from you. " "Anything, " I said. "But what could you possibly want that I could give? " "Simply this. You must never tell others the things that I have told you. Never tell of Those Who Must Be Kept. Never tell the legends of the old gods. Never tell others that you have seen me. " I nodded gravely. I had expected this, but I knew without even thinking that this might prove very hard indeed. "If you tell even one part, " he said, "another will follow, and with every telling of the secret of Those Who Must Be Kept you increase the danger of their discovery. " "Yes, " I said. "But the legends, our origins . . . What about those children that I make? Can't I tell them- " "No. As I told you, tell part and you will end up telling all. Besides, if these fledglings are children of the Christian god, if they are poisoned as Nicolas was with the Christian notion of Original Sin and guilt, they will only be maddened and disappointed by these old tales. It will all be a horror to them that they cannot accept. Accidents, pagan gods they don't believe in, customs they cannot understand. One has to be ready for this knowledge, meager as it may be. Rather listen hard to their questions and tell them what you must to make them contented. And if you find you cannot lie to them, don't tell them anything at all. Try to make them strong as godless men today are strong. But mark my words, the old legends never. Those are mine and mine alone to tell. " "What will you do to me if I tell them? " I asked. This startled him. He lost his composure for almost a full second, and then he laughed. "You are the damnedest creature, Lestat, " he murmured. "The point is I can do anything I like to you if you tell. Surely you know that. I could crush you underfoot the way Akasha crushed the Elder. I could set you ablaze with the power of my mind. But I don't want to utter such threats. I want you to come back to me. But I will not have these secrets known. I will not have a band of immortals descend upon me again as they did in Venice. I will not be known to our kind. You must never-deliberately or accidentally-send anyone searching for Those Who Must Be Kept or for Marius. You will never utter my name to others. " "I understand, " I said.

Lestat goes to NOLA after and tries to follow Marius' advice - and heed the warning.

That is the why.

The how...

Lestat never shows them the full extent of his powers. He lives with them in a house, as a family, not as a coven. He tries not to be the "coven master" for long stretches of time (going so far as to leave his home for example). He hides the more monstrous aspects of their existence, as well as the cruel implementations/rituals other covens have. Since Louis is very much also "poisoned by the notion of the Christian God" he does not tell them much either, probably half for fear of Marius and half for the gut feeling that the knowledge he has would actually not help much.

That is what I mean that he keeps them as mortal as possible.

They live with mortals, in their midst, masquerading as mortals, having hobbies, and interests, going to theaters, cinema etc. He makes his fledglings from and through love, and tries to live a "life" with them.

As good as he possibly can.

(The downside is, of course, that Louis and Claudia unfortunately have no concept of what awaits them with the other vampires. Which is exactly why Lestat did not want them to go to... Paris.)

[danielmolloystits]

looks just like an angel (Armand/Daniel, 1/1)

Summary:

The man in the chair—who Daniel assumes must be the priest, judging by his black button-down and white collar—looks up and smiles as he enters, all gleaming white teeth like one of those ads for toothpaste that four out of five dentists recommend. He has deep skin and dark, curly hair that he keeps having to brush away from his brown eyes. “Hello,” the priests greets him. “Welcome.” “Um,” Daniel says. “Hi.” — The drug den Daniel wakes up in after his encounter with Louis and Armand gets busted, and Armand decides to pretend to be the priest at his court-ordered N.A. meetings. That’s it. That’s the fic.

Pairing: M/M, Armand/Daniel Molloy (Devil's Minion) Rating: E WC: 5,555

It’s 9:52 in the morning. Daniel’s mouth tastes like he ate roadkill for breakfast and his head is pounding so loud he wants to tell it to come back with a warrant. Across from him sits his probation officer, whose name he’s pretty sure is Sarah, wielding a kind expression and a notepad that contains a quick summary of Daniel’s many sins.

So far, he likes Sarah. Sarah is nice. Sarah is telling him how she’s going to get him through this without it destroying his entire life. Well, she hasn’t used those precise words, exactly, but Daniel has been able to glean the gist of it—she’s been saying things like “first offense” and “dismiss the charges” and it has all vaguely sounded like it might not screw everything up for him forever.

So that’s something, at least.

“Of course, pretrial diversion does come with some requirements on your end,” Probably-Sarah is saying, with a look of what appears to be genuine concern on her face. Maybe she’s a good liar, but Daniel thinks there’s a chance she actually cares about the dumb hungover kid who’s half-sitting, half-melting in her office chair. “You’ll need to start attending NA—Narcotics Anonymous, that is—and we’re going to administer periodic drug tests to make sure you’re keeping clean.”

Christ, he’s such an idiot. A stupid fucking idiot who’s just lucky to not be dead right now. His innards churn miserably in agreement with that thought, and Daniel hopes that they’re at the tail end of this pretrial check-in thingy. He really doesn’t want to throw up on this nice lady’s carpet.

Sarah continues, “But if you hold up your end of the bargain, then I’ll hold up mine.” She smiles at him, apparently oblivious to the imminently-threatening hostage situation that is Daniel’s stomach right now. It’s kind of sweet, though; she looks like she really believes he’s gonna make it through this program. Like she thinks he could maybe be somebody someday.

A bright young reporter with a point of view.

“And if all goes well, then after your probationary period is up, you’ll never have to see me again.” She tilts her head at him, and sure, it’s condescending. But, like, in the nice way moms are sometimes. “Let’s try to make sure that happens, yeah?” She passes him a stack of papers that repeat all of the information she just gave him verbally, which Daniel is grateful for, because it’s been challenging to try to pay attention when his insides are so valiantly attempting to become his outsides. “I’ll see you two weeks from now.”

Daniel nods and hurries out of the room, right as the hostage situation devolves into a massacre with no survivors. He swallows against the gastric acid and bits of egg that are currently attempting to escape his throat and rushes to the single-stall bathroom down the hall, sending a prayer of thanks to every higher power he can think of that it’s unoccupied. By some small miracle, he manages to keep his shit together until he is on his knees in front of the toilet, at which point everything he’s put in his body for the past week unceremoniously comes back out.

Idly, he wonders how many public bathrooms he’s done this in by now, how many times he has been in this same stupid situation—his mouth and nose hovering above a filthy fucking toilet seat that’s touched the asses of God knows how many strangers—as the choices from the night before come back to haunt him like an ex-lover after a bad breakup.

Too many, he thinks. Definitely too many.

He looks down at where the informational materials are still crumpled in his left fist, pastel-colored pamphlets with titles like Self-Acceptance and Am I An Addict?, and thinks he could probably use a break from living like this. Thinks maybe this won’t be such a bad thing if it leads to him finally getting clean.

After all, it sure as hell can’t get any worse.

***

Two nights later, Daniel arrives at the church closest to where he’s staying in the Castro, which the Welcome to Narcotics Anonymous pamphlet told him hosts meetings three nights a week. Our Lady of Most Holy and Ardent Redemptions, or whatever. He doesn’t actually remember, but he’s sure it was something like that: all overwrought and Catholic, a name that’s meant to imply you have to absolve yourself for the crime of being born.

As he walks through the vestibule, he’s surprised to find it utterly abandoned, blanketed in a thick layer of silence that clings to the dusty pews and eggshell-colored walls like a film. It’s eerie, almost, this conspicuous absence of life—if it weren’t for the printed-out sign attached to the back of the pulpit that reads NA meeting downstairs in Rosary Room!, he’d assume he’d gone to the wrong place entirely. As it is, he wanders around the nave with a vague sense of unease until he finds the stairs to the basement, then follows the unsettlingly-cheery instructions of yet more signs until he reaches one that says NA Meeting here!!! taped to a mahogany door.

For a moment, he has the absurd impulse to knock, as if he’s intruding on something he shouldn’t be. He shakes himself out of it and opens the door.

Inside, there isn’t much to look at: a handful of low bookshelves pressed snugly against the wall, a long table with a coffee pot and an unopened box of donuts, and seven or eight folding chairs arranged in a circle.

Only one of them is occupied.

The man in the chair—who Daniel assumes must be the priest, judging by his black button-down and white collar—looks up and smiles as he enters, all gleaming white teeth like one of those ads for toothpaste that four out of five dentists recommend. He has deep skin and dark, curly hair that he keeps having to brush away from his brown eyes.

“Hello,” the priests greets him. “Welcome.”

“Um,” Daniel says. “Hi.”

“It would seem you are our only attendee for this evening.” A sheepish little laugh rumbles out from the priest’s chest as he adds, “I suppose sobriety is not so much in vogue these days.” He has an accent, Daniel notes, like maybe he emigrated from England but was somewhere else before that. The way it squeezes around his vowels is dimly familiar.

“Guess not,” Daniel agrees, casting a sideways glance at all of the empty chairs. The poor attendance doesn’t bode great for the overall well-being of the Castro’s citizenry, he reckons; it’s certainly not because they don’t need to be here. “Isn’t NA supposed to be group therapy? Is it still gonna...work?”

The priest chuckles softly again, a light exhalation of air to break the stillness in the room. “Yes, though it appears our session will perhaps be a touch more intimate than most. I hope you don’t mind a bit of individualized attention.” His eyes sparkle, almost seem to shine, as he gestures for Daniel to take the seat across from him. “Please, sit. I’m Father Armand.”

He does. “Daniel.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Daniel,” Father Armand says sweetly, and wow, he has really thick eyelashes. So thick and dark that Daniel wonders briefly whether he’s wearing mascara—though he isn’t sure whether priests are allowed to do that. “What brings you to Narcotics Anonymous?”

“Um.” He stutters, flushed and awkward with the weight of Father Armand’s undivided attention. “This is the part where I’m supposed to say I’m an addict, right?”

“It’s just us, Daniel,” the other man replies, in a low and conspiratorial whisper. Like the two of them are getting away with something, like this is a part of an inside joke they’ve shared for years. “You may say whatever you’d like.”

“What if I don’t want to say anything?”

“That’s fine, too,” Father Armand answers easily, a reassuring smile on his face. “Though we might not make much progress on the issues that brought you here if we sit in silence.”

“Fair enough,” Daniel says. “All right, I guess I’m here because a court ordered it. I’d really rather not be.”

“This is not the outcome you’d have wanted, then, but perhaps it is the one you need.” And, warm and friendly as he is trying to be, the priest’s stare seems to cut straight through him, right down to the ugly things inside him that he endeavors to hide. It is wildly discomforting. “An intervention from a higher power, of sorts.”

“Not how I’d put it, personally,” Daniel says, simultaneously bemused and on-edge. He scratches an itch on his forehead. “More like an intervention from the SFPD.”

“Even the SFPD answers to God, Daniel.”

“O-kay.” Unsurprisingly, the fatalistic religious bullshit is not doing much to set Daniel at ease in this situation. “But yeah. I’m, uh. Here because I got busted. In a drug den.”

“What were you doing in a drug den?”

“Well.” Daniel blinks at him. “Drugs, mostly.”

“Yes, that much is obvious,” Father Armand says, waving a gloved hand dismissively. “But what compelled you to the drug den in the first place?” Then, before Daniel can answer, he continues, “Don’t say ‘drugs’ again.”

Daniel was definitely about to say ‘drugs’ again. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for here, man,” he answers instead, shrugging one shoulder noncommittally. “I like getting high. Not a lot more to it.”

“There’s always more to it,” the priest replies, sage-like and frustratingly stoic. “Whether we want to admit to it or not.”

“Orrr,” he drawls the single syllable out sarcastically, “maybe it’s just not worth telling. I was there because I wanted to do drugs and I got caught, dude.”

Father Armand hums thoughtfully. “Surely something in the evening must have led you there, though.”

“I don’t really remember,” Daniel says, and he’s maybe starting to lose his patience a little. “Probably on account of being radically high.”

“You can’t recall anything about the evening other than its conclusion?” In the dim lighting of the basement, the priest’s expression is difficult to read.

He frowns. “I might’ve met a guy at a bar, before. I think I was at Polynesian Mary’s, maybe?”

“Do you meet guys at bars often, Daniel?”

Immediately, he tenses, a frisson of indignation alighting in his gut at the priest’s thinly-veiled judgment.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He probably should’ve known better than to expect anything approaching compassion or understanding from the Catholic fucking Church. Lesson learned for next time—maybe the Episcopalians are running NA somewhere in the city.

“I meant no offense, Daniel,” Father Armand says, voice calm and composed in stark contrast to Daniel’s rising indignation. “I’m just inquiring as to your habits, to get a sense of where you could benefit from some lifestyle changes.”

“Oh, and I’m sure whatever you think I’m doing with these men is high on that list, right? This is the Castro, dude. Fuck you.”

“You have quite a lot of anger,” the priest comments dryly, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as though he’s inspecting Daniel. “Is that what drives you to use?”

Is that what makes you fascinating?

“No, seriously, dude: fuck you. I’m not putting up with this shit.” He stands to leave, but Father Armand reaches out and grabs his wrist before he can, his grip unexpectedly steely.

“A reminder, Daniel, that your participation in this process is necessary if you wish to avoid jail time,” he says, still smiling that same, infuriating smile.

Daniel stops in his tracks. “Maybe not. I’ll work something out with my P.O., I’ll–”

“Yes, Sarah, was it?” Father Armand asks. “I wonder how she would react to news of your resistance to the process.”

“You–”

“I’m only here to help, Daniel,” the priest interrupts with an infuriatingly placid smile. “Now, are you intending to cooperate, or shall I go ahead and inform Sarah of your refusal to participate?” He gestures once more for Daniel to sit, his expression replete with a cool smugness. Begrudgingly, Daniel complies.

“Fucking—whatever, fine.” He closes his eyes and exhales noisily through his nose, trying to will himself into a state of calm. When he opens them again, the priest is staring at him expectantly. “I guess I use because I...I get bored.”

“Bored of what?”

“I dunno, dude.” He shrugs. “Sobriety. Life. Everything.”

Father Armand leans in even closer. “Interesting.”

“If you say so, man.” Daniel rolls his eyes. “Mostly it’s just tedious. I mean, all of it.”

“How so?” There is nothing but apparent sincerity in the question, which makes Daniel’s shoulders relax a fraction.

“It’s the same shit every day, isn’t it? Wake up, go to work, eat dinner, watch TV, over and over until you die,” he says, and the priest nods along as he speaks attentively. “At least drugs break up the monotony a little.”

The unnamed malaise you feel on Sunday afternoons.

“Sure,” Father Armand agrees breezily, his eyes never straying from Daniel’s. “If you do them once in a while, maybe. But they’ve become part of your routine, haven’t they?”

Daniel crosses his arms belligerently. “You don’t know me, man. You’re not my fuckin’ friend.”

“I’m not here to be your friend, Daniel,” Father Armand replies, tone clipped and succinct; annoyed, almost. But then, more delicately, he adds, “I’m here to help you get better. The first step is admitting you have a problem, no?”

“I guess.” Daniel slumps back in his seat, running a hand over his face in exasperation. “All right, so let’s say I have a problem. What next?”

“The next step is coming to believe in a power greater than yourself.” The priest’s hands are clasped together, his thumbs twiddling idly as he speaks, “One that is capable of delivering you from your illness.”

“So, what,” Daniel deadpans. “I’ve gotta convert to Catholicism?”

“If you’re so inclined,” Father Armand responds wryly, as if he’s privy to some great secret that eludes the poor, ailing addict. Daniel wonders in that moment how old the other man is. He can’t have too many years on Daniel, surely, but he seems so much older that it’s almost a little unnerving. “However, it could be anything, really; your love for your family, your will to live. It could even be me, if you wanted.”

He says it like it’s meant to be another bad joke, but something about it brings Daniel up short. Like he’s not really joking at all, actually. “You could be my higher power?” he asks flatly, unsettled and using a fair amount of bluster to cover it. “Isn’t that sort of sacrilegious?”

“I’m not suggesting you pray to me; I’m suggesting you allow me to carry some of the pain that troubles you. To share in the weight of the dreary mundanities that lead you to use.” The priest’s eyes bore into his, his tone soft and reassuring. “I assure you, Daniel, God will have nothing to say about it.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

Father Armand smiles. “I want to help you. Is that so difficult to believe?”

And it is, really. But despite his misgivings—practically against his will—a sense of calm washes over Daniel at the sound of the priest’s voice; the crash of a wave lapping gently at a shoreline, soothing the impotent swell of restless irritation that has been building inside of him since he first sat down. All of that rage, those years and years of tiresome anger, snuffed out as easily as the flickering light of a candle. With nothing more than a few words, Father Armand has taken the heft of that burden from him, as effortlessly as if Daniel had handed it over to him willingly.

Rest, now.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind so much after all, he thinks—putting the confusing knot of chaos inside of him into someone else’s hands. Maybe it would be nice to give his will over to something greater than himself.

“Okay,” Daniel hears himself saying, as though from a great distance. He’s hardly even aware he’s speaking. “Okay. It can be you.”

Rest.

Father Armand beams at him then, and Daniel realizes for the first time how beautiful he is; he looks just like an angel in a Renaissance painting, like a portrait of a martyred saint. His eyes seem less brown, now, closer to the rich and vibrant glow of an ember. Of course Daniel can trust him. Of course.

“Excellent,” he says, and his hands extend to clasp around one of Daniel’s. The leather over his skin is cold. “You are safe with me, Daniel.”

Rest.

Mutely, Daniel nods. The part of him that wishes to object is so quickly subdued, as if smothered by an insistent hand.

“Now,” Father Armand begins, the dingy gold of the basement lights glistening off of his teeth, “you’re going to tell me about what happened before the drug den. What do you remember, Daniel?”

I’m the quiet you’ve been longing for.

As the unspoken words pierce through the veil of his cognition, Daniel jerks like a sleeper agent awakened. In between one moment and the next, his mind is inundated with lurid images of an apartment, the apartment he was in before he wound up in the den: a man—if he can even be called a man—who looks so much like the priest is hovering over Daniel, whispering devastating kindnesses into his ear until the fight slowly drains from his body. He tries to hold onto the shape of them, to remember what it was that happened, but the flashes slip through his fingers as easily as soap bubbles off of a dinner plate. As he reaches for them, grasps at them, a pressure builds in the base of his skull like a low roll of thunder, and a scream tears through his shaking body. He cannot hear it over the ringing in his ears, but he can feel it, feel it rattle his chest and reverberate in his bones. It is agony, unending and complete. It is torture.

The only comfort through all of it is the weight of Father Armand’s hand around his own.

“It hurts,” Daniel whines, instinctively trying to shy away from the throbbing fissure in his head by leaning further into Father Armand’s touch. Tears prick the corners of his eyes like pins.

“Does it?” the priest asks, voice steady and still like the face of a mountain. “Good. Pain is your body’s way of telling you to avoid something. If it hurts, move away from it.”

Daniel sobs, and the next thing he knows he is on the ground, having fallen off of his chair; the hard press of the floor underneath him is the only thing holding him up. “Please,” he begs, not really sure what it is he’s asking for.

A cool finger crooks under his chin to tilt his head up. Through his swimming vision, Daniel sees Father Armand looking down at him. “Do you want me to make it stop?”

“Yes,” he breathes, his body curling up into the fetal position like a dying cockroach. “Please.”

The priest frowns, dispassionate. “What would you do for it? What would you give?”

I could be on my knees in a second.

Another burst of pain blossoms underneath Daniel’s eyes and he winces, cries out. “Anything,” he promises, his fingers reaching out to clutch at the leg of Father Armand’s trousers. “I’d give anything.”

“Would you give me money, Daniel?”

He nods enthusiastically even as the motion of it only exacerbates his anguish. “Yeah,” he says, “everything I have.”

“Hmm,” the priest hums. His expression as he watches Daniel is calculating, frigid. Slowly, he lifts one Doc Marten-booted foot to rest on Daniel’s chest. “Would you give me your obedience?”

Instinctively, Daniel’s spine straightens under the weight of his heel, the firm way it presses down on him a strange but poignant comfort in his addled state. The feeling it grants him is not quite relief, but it is something adjacent to it, something that loosens the tightly-wound tangle of anxiety that squeezes his lungs. He craves more of it. “Yes.”

“Yes what, Daniel?”

He swallows roughly. “Yes, Father.”

Lowly, the priest murmurs, “Good boy.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, his gaze growing half-lidded and hungry. “Ask me what you can do for me, Daniel.”

A shudder runs through him, sharp and electric. His mouth tastes of ozone. “What can I do for you, Father?”

The priest grins at him, then, wicked and predatory. “Worship me.”

The words echo around Daniel’s mind like a hollow room, silencing all other thought. Silencing the terrible cacophony that has been threatening to rend his very self in two. He squirms with the ecstasy of it—the unparalleled bliss of reprieve—mewling his acquiescence to the priest’s demand.

He can feel Father Armand’s pleasure at his submission trickling like a leaky faucet down his spine. “Do you feel that, Daniel?” he asks, as calmly as if he were asking about the weather.

Tears are still streaming down Daniel’s cheeks; his nose is stuffed and snotty from crying. “Yes, Father,” he croaks.

“That is solace, my dear boy,” the priest tells him, unwavering and impassive. “I have given it to you, and I can take it away from you just as easily.”

At the thought of the pain returning, a fierce panic slices through Daniel, hot and pointed as a knife in his guts. “No,” he moans, his bottom lip quivering as he stares at Father Armand. “Please don’t.”

The boot presses down harder, pinning him to the yellowed carpet. “You forget yourself, Daniel,” the priest replies.

He whimpers and corrects himself: “Please don’t, Father.”

“That’s better,” Father Armand says with a mean twist of his lips. “Tell me: where is your place?”

And Daniel has played this role before, knows the script by heart. Could recite it in his sleep if he had to. “Beneath you, Father.”

The priest grinds his heel into Daniel’s sternum, then, wrenching a pitiful cry from between the boy’s lips. It hurts, of course, but in a different way than before; this isn’t the horror of his soul being cracked in half and poured over the ground. This is a familiar pain, a welcome one, one that Daniel arches up into like a cat stretching its back.

“Do you like that, Daniel?” Father Armand asks, a trace of amusement coloring his voice. “Do you like it when I hurt you?”

Wordlessly, Daniel nods, because he does. He always has. He’s always pining to feel something, anything. Whatever it takes if it means not being bored.

“Say it.”

“I like it,” Daniel wheezes, forcing the words out from underneath the weight on his chest. “I like when you hurt me, Father.”

“Greedy, aren’t you?” the priest purrs, half-aroused and half-contemptuous.

“Yes.” Daniel hisses, his fingers clawing into the carpet as his body curves to accommodate—to seek out—the press of Father Armand’s heavy boot. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, that he wants this after everything that’s happened today (the past week, some distant part of his mind whispers), but he does. Maybe he simply craves the release of oblivion after teetering over the edge of it. “Yes, Father.”

“I could make you feel good, too. If I felt like it.” He lifts his foot a fraction of an inch, enough to make Daniel’s lungs expand gratefully where they’ve been compressed. Then, slowly, he drags the toe of his boot down, down, down to where the boy is hard and aching in his jeans. He runs his instep along the shameful bulge that presses against Daniel’s zipper, pressing just lightly enough to tease. To threaten. “Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Daniel moans, a needful, pathetic little sound that makes Father Armand snarl. “I do, Father.”

“Do you think you deserve that, Daniel?” His boot pushes down a bit harder, and Daniel writhes into it, gasps at the delicious torment of the priest’s brutality.

“No, Father.”

“Beg for it, then.” Even though Daniel’s eyes are screwed shut, he can feel the burning weight of the other man’s stare boring into him. His boot steps harder still. “Beg for me. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Daniel wants to reply, knows that he needs to reply, but he can’t; his mouth is too occupied with crying out, held captive as he is in a state of delirium.

“Pathetic,” Father Armand spits at him. “Must I speak for you now, too?”

He can do nothing more than nod, than accept the fate he has been dealt at the hands of this cruel master.

“You want me to fuck you.” It isn’t a question; rather, the priest speaks flatly, clinically, down at the boy he has pinned. “You want me to bury my tongue in your ass until your voice gives out from screaming and then fill you to the point of breaking, is that right?”

The words are torn directly from Daniel’s thoughts as though Father Armand heard them uttered aloud. As though he can read the twisted desires playing on repeat in Daniel’s mind as plainly as thumbing through a children’s picture book. The noise Daniel makes isn’t so much language as one of desperation distilled.

The boot lifts off of his chest, suddenly. “Stand.”

Daniel does, albeit slowly and on shaky legs that threaten to buckle from underneath him.

Father Armand smiles. “Good boy.” He gestures with his chin in the direction of the table, still covered in untouched donuts and cold coffee. “Bend over. And drop your pants.”

Sweating and trembling, Daniel feels more of a mess now than he did the day he awoke from his bender. Like the screws holding him together have been loosened and he is the lightest touch away from falling to pieces. Nevertheless, he complies, bracing himself on his elbows as he awaits further instruction.

“You’ve been insolent,” Father Armand comments as he slowly comes to stand behind Daniel. He runs the fingertips of one gloved hand over the swell of the boy’s ass. “Don’t you think you deserve to be disciplined for that?”

And Daniel is still beyond the point of language, so all he can manage is a thin, reedy little moan. Internally, he is only capable of thinking the word please on a recursive loop.

There’s a rush of air, then, followed by the sharp sting of Father Armand’s leather-covered palm striking one cheek. Daniel sucks in a harsh breath, an involuntary inhalation somewhere between a hiccup and a gasp. He gets almost no break before he is being hit again, then again, over and over until he can feel the blood rising to the skin from the burst capillaries. Almost as if from another room, he can hear himself crying out. Although the soles of his feet are rooted to the church carpet, he feels as though his consciousness has abandoned his body to wander elsewhere. The pain is practically transcendent in its savage persistence, the only thing anchoring him to this material plane the rhythmic pulse of the blood rushing to his cock.

Father Armand is relentless, and Daniel wonders whether he is going to be punished past the point where he can no longer withstand it. Until suddenly, the abuse stops, and the priest instead permits his cool fingers to trace over the damaged skin. His touch is surprisingly gentle, laced with a fragile sort of reverence; Daniel can hear the rustling of fabric as the priest crouches down, as if seeking out a better angle from which to admire his own handiwork.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, spreading Daniel’s ass open, the word ghosting feather-light over the sensitive flesh. Daniel whines, restless with the effort of keeping himself still against the overwhelming urge to arch into the contact. “What a beautiful little thing you are.”

The praise wrenches a strangled cry from Daniel’s throat, wanton and depraved. He wishes he still possessed the ability to speak, wishes he could beg for Father Armand to please, please fuck him now. Beg the priest to make him full, to try and satisfy the yearning cavern inside of him.

He’d do anything to not be so fucking hungry.

The priest laughs as though he knows precisely what Daniel is thinking and then, with no warning, he is blowing a teasing breath over Daniel’s hole.

The boy nearly screams, his mind still running on the frantic hamster wheel of please, please, please, please, please—

Father Armand interrupts that train of thought by dragging the flat of his tongue over the skin that his breath just kissed, carefully unraveling what little remains of Daniel’s sentience until all that is left in its place is a moaning, bestial creature. A thing composed entirely of impulse, the only thing he understands at this point being what it means to want.

Instinctively, Daniel tries to grind back into the sensation, but the priest does not allow it, his leather-clad hold on Daniel wrought in immovable iron. At the denial, Daniel merely whimpers, no longer able to beg with anything other than his body and sincerely running the risk of going mad with need.

Patience, Daniel, he hears Father Armand admonish, as if from a stereo system inside of his head while the priest licks over him once more. He doesn’t even question it, really, content to assume that the universe is fracturing around him and that reality itself is simply splintering. It certainly feels that way, with how Father Armand’s tongue writes filthy love poems into his skin, with how he fucks into Daniel just enough to torture.

It is not unlike he is drowning, stranded in the middle of a vast ocean and being pulled under by the grasping appendages of the monsters below. He is overcome with a pleasure too fathomless to name, one that threatens to steal the air from his lungs and fill them with something more volatile and fluid. It’s exquisite. He needs it to stop. He never wants it to stop.

Again, Daniel hears the priest’s voice inside of his mind. So very needy, aren’t you? Filled to the brim with unrealized desire, aching for anything that might scratch the persistent itch deep within you.

The words seem to strip him bare, to peel back his skin and the viscera that holds him together until all of his nerves are exposed to Father Armand’s touch. At this point, he is cognizant only of the places where the two of them connect, the world zeroed in like a pinhole on the press of the priest’s tongue against his ass. He has no self outside of this point of contact, he thinks, and he doesn’t care at all. Can’t imagine caring about anything else ever again.

He keens, his hips attempting to roll back once more. This time, Father Armand lets him, allows Daniel to ride his tongue in the way he so desperately craves, and he gasps with the relief of it, his face buried in the crook of his arm as he thrusts backwards to where the priest’s mouth is waiting for him.

Then, one of Father Armand’s hands snakes around to grip Daniel in his fist, and it only takes a few strokes before the feeling of it swells into a feverish crescendo, before Daniel is twitching and spilling messily over the priest’s fingers.

Good boy, Father Armand says, tongue still deep in Daniel’s ass as he works him through the spasming aftershocks. Now, I need you to do something for me.

Daniel slumps onto the table, barely able to hold himself up, and nods limply. Anything. He’d do anything.

Stay still, Daniel.

Father Armand’s mouth moves to lavish a hot, wet kiss to where Daniel’s pulse pounds in his thigh, his teeth scraping delicately over the skin there. Then, there is the sensation of ice piercing his arteries, of numb and cold and bad and wrong.

The world begins to grow dim around the edges. The last thing Daniel remembers thinking before it all goes dark is, Please don’t kill me.

***

When Daniel awakens in his apartment the next morning, he has a bruise on his butt the size of an apple, a killer headache, and a voicemail on his answering machine:

Hey Daniel, this is Sandra. I was wondering why you missed your first N.A. meeting last night; Father Reynolds said you didn’t show. If you need help getting to them, let me know and I’ll help you work something out. Either way, try not to let it happen again, okay?

As he listens to his P.O.—who is apparently not named Sarah—speak, a lot of conflicting thoughts occur to him at once. Most of them are confused, disoriented, wondering what the fuck happened last night and who the fuck Father Armand really was.

But perhaps the loudest of all of them is the realization that that part of him that is so constantly reaching, so constantly starving, is finally contented.

For the first time he can remember, he is satisfied.

[murfeelee]

IWTV Claudia's Celebration of Life: Spark in the Dark - Alternate Universe

As the title suggests, this event is to celebrate the wonderful Claudia; her personality, her aspirations, her journey. The heart for the past two seasons of AMC Interview with The Vampire. This is to take the narrative back to her, proving she's not just a shingle roof for us.

2. Aug 13th & 14th: Alternate Universe

“It’s chaos after you die. It’s a dream from which you cannot wake.” Armand says quietly to Daniel. “Imagine drifting half in and out of consciousness, trying vainly to remember who you are or what you were. Imagine straining forever for the lost clarity of the living—” Armand stops suddenly to glare somewhere to Lestat’s left. “Lestat, I beg you on bended knee to close your mind. I cannot bear to listen to her any longer.” “Listen to who,” Louis asks, sharp as fangs. “CLAUDIA!” Lestat shouts into the swamp, spinning in his inner tube. “These drugs are making me hallucinate our dead daughter. I’ve been listening to her explain exactly how I failed her with much virulence and creativity for the last forty-five minutes.” “What’s she like?” Louis asks, eager as anything. “Magnifique,” Lestat answers immediately. “She despises me. She’s wearing a yellow… I believe it is called a tankini. She has a margarita....” Lestat twists in his tube to glare at Armand. “Montre-lui/ Show him.” Louis squeezes his eyes shut, wrists limp in front of him. Armand’s mindgift transmission is jagged and blurry from the drugs, and Lestat’s view is all the more distorted by his own intoxication, but it’s her, it’s her. Claudia rises from the dead to berate Lestat from her very own inner tube, pausing only to take sips from her human drink. At least she is granted liquor in the hopeless afterlife that is haunting Lestat. Claudia’s hair is pulled back the way it was the day she passed, but her face is baby smooth, no trace of the injury the coven had subjected her to before her murder. She smiles at Lestat, dimple still adorable, no matter how old she gets. “And I don’t give one solitary sh*t if you’ve got him d**kmatized,” Claudia tells Lestat. “He says he forgives you for letting me die?” She brings her fingers together and gestures to her own chest. “I don’t f**king forgive you! ” Claudia starts singing in mockery, bitter as her daddy on his worst nights. She cups her hands (Her beautiful hands! The simple pleasure of her hand in his!) around her mouth like a megaphone. “I don’t forgivveeee you!” “Jesus Christ,” Louis hears Daniel say in the real world before exploding into choking coughs. In Lestat’s psychosis as translated by Armand on LSD, Claudia keeps at it. She urges Lestat to find new and innovative ways to kill himself, embodying Lestat’s senselessness and Louis’ sense in her rage. Their courageous, intelligent, honest-to-God hurricane of a daughter does not look Louis’ way the whole memory, even though Louis deserves the privilege of meeting her eyes again so much more than Lestat does. Even though Louis has spent a lifetime fasting and praying for it. But she is Lestat’s ghost, she haunts him just like she said she would, and Louis figures… He hears his own laugh—hysterical—as the memory ends, the tears wet on his cheeks. Louis figures he’s just too sane to see her these days.

-- Alligator Tears, @siahatha

MY THOUGHTS & CC CREDITS

MY THOUGHTS

A day late, cuz I was busy yesterday.

This post was directly inspired by the latest chapter of an extremely good & unhinged post-canon modern AU IWTV fanfic, where Loustat are back together, Devil's Minion is a thing, and Lestat's being haunted by the ghost of Claudia's memory. Louis' sad that he can only see her through Armand, cuz he can't read his Maker Lestat's mind, ofc.

CC CREDITS

-- IP EP pool floats by me

-- Lestat heatstroke tan line in gamma by me

-- Blood bags by @thebleedingwoodland (X X)

-- Louis swimsuit at MTS

-- Gators at Simszoo

[foreignemotion]

Enduring in B Minor

Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac

Summary: As a hurricane approaches New Orleans, Lestat de Lioncourt sifts through his memories of past loves, familial and romantic. Little does he know, fifty years of waiting to hear of Louis de Pointe du Lac's wellbeing is about to come to an end. Word count: 1.2k Warnings/Tags: canon compliant, missing scene, hurt/comfort, pining, memory loss, reunions. A/N: Wrote this following the finale of IWTV S2. All Lestat needs is a kiss on the forehead and he'll be good to go.

—

The advantage of ivory keys was that they did not have a tendency to wear away as easily as wooden ones. Never did Lestat miss the weight of them beneath his fingertips more than when a finger slipped into the incorrect groove. He would wince, hearing the unfitting note in his head clash with the tinny, electronic score that Siri sputtered out.

She, despite her uses, played but a caricature of what an orchestra could. She could not hold a candle to the feeling of drums that reverberated through him when he performed on stage, beating out an irregular heart’s rhythm through his undead body. She could not replicate the shrill of a too-fast violin that would sing through his veins; he would find the boy’s eyes in the orchestral pit and feel his breath catch, the play slowing around him as he stretched out time for another moment to bask in his attention.

Lestat blinked back into Louisiana. He found his hands clawed, nails sinking into the soft wood. It had been made smooth by both his hands and the humidity. He breathed in deep, scenting the Mississippi river and the hurricane that followed eagerly on its heels. The house, and the bunker he was in, seemed to quake in fearful anticipation. Siri continued her lament, awaiting his accompaniment. His fingers lay poised above the keys, yet the thoughts of Nicolas—young, sweet Niki—had made way for thoughts of another.

Louis was the stage-lights that had warmed him for so many nights. With Louis near, he was reminded of what the sun’s embrace could feel like after centuries of bleak midnights. In his absence, there was a deep ache in his bones that he refused to leave him. On the worst of the lonesome nights, when candles were his only company, his teeth would chatter until he ground his molars together. His jaw would absorb the shaking as best it could before it spread to his shoulders, his hands, his entire being. Only when he tasted iron did he realise he was crying, chest heaving with sobs.

Slowly, he lowered his hands to the wood again, fingertips finding their way into familiar grooves as he tried to shake off the ghosts of past lovers. Lestat took up the threnody again, his movements slow in their practice. With each note, he attempted to compose himself, but mistakes betrayed his usual flawless playing. If he still had use of a proper piano, he would have slammed his hands across the keys, causing the instrument to groan discordantly in protest. He could do no such thing with his wooden imitation, and he gripped it with the intention to throw it aside. After a moment’s hesitation, he loosened his grip and sat back in his chair, letting memory overtake him. There was no use fighting them off any longer; they were a monster who demanded to be heeded.

Lestat remembered the date and time exactly. 11:07; September eighth, 1973. New Orleans had been shrugging off her summer heat yet continued to wrap herself in humidity like one would a favourite shawl. Armand’s voice had come to him, his sultry tones like summer smoke, telling him that Louis had harmed himself. Lestat's breath had choked from him, throat constricting dangerously. The sun and her fledgling—fire—had taken too much from him already.

“Tell him I love him, Armand,” he had begged, “Please.”

There had been no reply. He had screamed Louis’ name long after he knew Armand could no longer hear him.

Worry still gnawed away at Lestat like a worm within an apple core. All these decades later and imagined images still haunted him. He had seen Louis burned before, and had carried him up to coffin himself, but his mind was a cruel mistress. She conjured images of fat and sinew bubbling under the sun to expose the bone beneath, of skin sloughing away into ash.

He had seen this all before. He knew the pain of losing your own flesh and blood; he had felt it in the very marrow of his bones.

He did not know if he could endure it again.

As try as he might, he could not weave together all the threads of memory about the trial. It was an incomplete tapestry, the piece long abandoned. Lestat remembered the script, the stage, the smell of singed flesh. He recalled his limbs feeling leaden, his thoughts fogged. He remembered Louis’ wavering voice, his terrified jade eyes, bloodshot and beautiful. He remembered Claudia’s defiance, her words as sharp and cutting as a razor. He reminisced on her bravery, her protectiveness. He could never forget the way she had turned to him for help. Lestat remembered his own shame in being able to only watch.

He would never forgive himself for not being able to save both of them, but most of all to not rescue Claudia.

Lestat resurfaced from the clutches of memory like a man drowning, gasping for breath. He reached blindly for his piano, clutching it in his shaking hands. The wood grounded him, reminding him that he was no longer in Paris. He hunched over the keys now, hair grazing the wood as his fingers picked up the music again. He could lose himself in the notes, to remind him of anything but those he’d lost.

The door to the bunker slammed open, kicking back against the wall. Lestat refused to let it interrupt his playing, yet the smell of warm blood was tantalising. The two rats his catcher had brought him were larger than most; their heartbeats were frantic despite their quietness. Animal blood was tarter than that of a human with a tang that clung to the back of the throat, yet Lestat could not admit he was overly fond of the taste. Yet, is hunger betrayed him, fangs pricking his tongue.

It was then that another scent caught Lestat’s attention.

He continued to play, his catcher drivelling on about the hurricane, before beginning to question his own existentialism. He had heard all this before, but at least it had come from someone he had loved, let alone tolerated…

He was sure that his senses were deceiving him. Louis had always smelled exquisite, like fresh rain laced underneath cigarette smoke. It was intoxicating. It wrapped around him now, almost suffocating in its closeness. It had to be the hurricane, bringing new scents to him the closer it got to the city.

Then why could hear a third heartbeat in the room?

“Who you?” His catcher demanded; his voice had turned away from Lestat.

“Hello.” The illusion that was Louis replied.

Why did his voice sound so close?

He was in such a reverie that when Lestat answered that the name slurred on his tongue. Louis had always tasted even more deliciously than wine.

“Louis…”

Lestat lifted his head from his piano then, if only to confirm that his mind was playing tricks on him. He turned his head, and there he was, those emerald eyes finding his sapphires from across the room.

Time slowed to a halt, the world quietening around him.

“Hello, Lestat.” Louis said, voice smooth as the darkest merlot. Lestat thought he’d never hear it again, and he had to swallow the tears pricking his eyes.

“Hello, Louis.”

[loustat-0]

Here's the reasons why I don't connect well with Loumand in the book :

So one of them is because Louis never even once admitted to Lestat or Claudia so ruthlessly that he loved Lestat and suddenly with Armand he became more free in love & more open , I don't think it was because Armand listened to him or understood him better because there are some parts of iwtv book where Lestat was capable of those yet Louis thought it was manipulation 🙄 . Why didn't he ever think the same about Armand ? 😏 The answer is simple because Armand didn't exactly shown his mind powers to Louis yet . And even when he told Louis he did that & he used it on Louis to make him turn Madeline Louis still forgave him ??? And just asked not to do it again ! And Armand didn't do it ? 😏 What makes us sure he didn't ? Cause there are two sentences which showed he most probably did use it again . 1. " Go to sleep Louis " after Louis burnt the theater & wanted to escape Paris & 2. When he admitted that when he heard Lestat survived he said this :

While it is true that Armand might have kept the fact that Lestat was alive from Louis to protect him it is also worth mentioning Armand does many manipulative things to help the people he loved too . Armand is able to read anyone's mind & if he had read Louis's he must've known if Lestat being alive will make Louis feel anything or not , right ? And why didn't he tell Lestat about Louis being alive ? 😏 What was he protecting Lestat from ? Other than the fact that if he knew he would probably do whatever he could to find Louis again & talk to him & they would probably leave Armand again & get back together ? 😬 So no it wasn't all about protecting Louis from himself or anyone it was for himself too .

All I can think of is how numb Louis became when Claudia died & Armand & Louis kinda fell apart & just lived together because there were no other vampires who would accept them & they were both afraid of being alone & not finding anyone who could love them again as they once loved each other . In my opinion they practically stayed together out of desperation for not being alone & for Louis because he didn't have anyone else to lean on as powerful as Armand . And Armand was emotionally so obsessed with Louis & he couldn't end it easily.

Armand tried to make Louis separated with Claudia a lot he wanted Louis for himself & he didn't want to share him which in the book Lestat never tried to do . And then he orchestrated a whole show to get rid of Claudia & make Louis believe Lestat was responsible for her doom 🙄 although poor Claudia was already doomed because of Lestat's selfishness of making someone so young but let's not forget that they punished her for killing her maker & one of their kind . Another attempt of Armand to separate Louis & Lestat & let's not forget did Louis ever actually ask himself if Lestat was still in the theater or not when he burnt it down ? Yes He didn't even care at that moment he was angry & he was mourning & that can make you not think of whatever you're doing at that moment . Because later when Louis said this :

Doesn't this indicate that Louis cared who was burnt in that theater ? He said I didn't really care I hadn't thought of Lestat at all the night I torched the theater . Isn't it weird to you that he thought of Santiago & Celeste but didn't really care about Lestat ? 🤔 And if he didn't then why did he burn Lestat with them ? He said he didn't hate him for Claudia's death . Don't you sense some mind power here ? 👀

And look what Louis said about Lestat being alive : I cannot convey to you the feeling that came over me when I heard this .

I mean what does that say ? Why does Louis say this ?

And one more thing if Lestat had escaped the theater who helped him escape ? He didn't escape in fact Armand had taken him again to the tower 😏 .

4. Finally this is why I don't like book Loumand . No hate on AMC Loumand what so ever because I haven't seen anything from them but if the show runners want to do the books they have to at least notice one of these flaws & voids in Louis & Armand's relationship as much as they did in Louis & Lestat's relationship . 😉

[adamnablelittledevil]

Reacting to The Vampire Lestat - Part II (with a bit of spoilers)

I found out my problem with the narration and description isn't with Anne, but Lestat. That dude sometimes focuses on the most useless stuff instead of telling what is happening or what he's feeling. I'm like, Lestat de Lioncourt, get your priorities (not) straight? But it's not much of a problem anymore now, because it gives me a better idea of who he is and how he thinks, so I appreciate that. I enjoy the immersion, even with someone as chaotic and as distracted as he is.

Turns out when Lestat FINALLY gives me a good picture of things, it's with the WORST event possible.

Remember what Louis said about the little drink? That's the whole experience from the moment Magnus kidnaps Lestat, turns him, kills himself before his eyes and leaves him completely alone. Multiply your worst case scenario by a trillion.

Not that I would want Magnus to stay, God forbid, but the next moment is still pretty bad. You might believe it gets better after his death, but it's not immediately.

Lestat goes from being too frozen to move, to fighting with every fiber of his being and then trying to take it as a positive thing? Which, well, it's a realistic reaction to it, but also heartbreaking.

It's not exactly "rape", but it has pretty much everything a rape can have without penetration? So it basically felt like the same thing to me.

It's quite a long chapter, it's considerably graphic (at least for me), took me over 2 hours to finish it (maybe it was even closer to 3 hours, I don't remember anymore, but I struggled a lot), I kept taking pauses, whenever I thought it was over it kept going and kept getting worse.

It is well-written in the way that makes sense, that moves the story, that narrates and describes what's happening with details, that you can really picture it in your head, that is extremely intense and emotional... But it's obviously not an exciting part.

I feel bad for the way Lestat immediately shifts afterwards and tries to make the most of it. Not that I wanted him to be miserable and feeling sorry for himself, but I'm like, something terrible happened to you and it's okay to take time to deal with it. I'm not even sure he understands how traumatic that was? If he does, he doesn't acknowledge it, let alone admit it. Not even to himself. And it's just frustrating.

Even after I read it, it stuck with me and took me more than a day to get over. I kept remembering it even when I was doing totally different stuff.

It's cool to navigate through things with him as Lestat finds more about how his body and powers operate.

When he went to the village and began to experiment with his powers was fun. Him jumping, cutting trees and whatever the other silly things he was doing and I can't fully remember... It was like an ADHD child high on sugar and sort of cute.

Is that presence... Armand?

You can take the man out of the church, but you can't take the church out of the man (or the vampire), apparently.

This probably isn't necessary, but I want that scene that he sees the house with the family and reads their thoughts? The idea of seeing the thoughts of babies is so sweet... It's not even for him, it's more of a me thing, I guess. I would just like to see it. I don't know. Maybe I'm being too sensitive and PMSing lol. Don't @ me.

Lestat has kissed so many people at this point and he hardly gives details, so I'm like, what are you kissing? A cheek? A hand? A mouth? Is it a friendly peck on the lips? Is it tongue-kissing? Elaborate? I mean, I don't care because the way he does it feels as trivial as a fart lmao. The only one he really has a deeper relationship with so far is Nicki, so I only kind of care about Lestat with him. It's not really a problem, but I just find the whole thing vague and ridiculous lol.

It's not even Lestat that has BPD, but BPD has Lestat at this point. The man is intense, has crazy mood swings, has extreme reactions to things, engages in dangerous behavior, is highly irresponsible with money, has a chronic fear of being alone... I know one when I see it. And vampirism didn't fix it, it only made it worse.

A bit off topic, but there's something about France that is so enchanting? I've always been obsessed with it in some ways, some places, the architecture, the language, the art... It's not like I'm a big nerd or anything, I can't barely name stuff to save my life, but just looking, hearing and thinking about it... There's just some charm to it. I've realized that the simple fact of stories being set in France makes me excited for some reason. I would love if they filmed there and in some of my favorite spots (cough Sainte-Chapelle and Carcassonne cough), for the mere reason it would look gorgeous and they should because I said so. Maybe in a past life I lived there or something, but I've always had that fascination, God knows why.

"Why the hell did Anne write and word it like that?" moment #1, I guess. At least it was fast and I can erase it from my memory.

The book has gotten quite faster and more eventful now, it's definitely better than when I first started it. I hate when it takes too long for things to happen, so this pace is good. And crucial moments happen pretty early on, which I appreciate. It's nice to know I've read some of the most important events by now, even as disturbing as they are. One of the downsides of being in this fandom is not having the full information, so already knowing part of the big events is satisfying.

P.S. Nothing is permanent, opinions might change and this is based on Lestat's narration, which can be unreliable. I'm reading the books so I can find out more about the characters, what potential events might happen in the show, what I can expect etc. This is my favorite show in the universe, so I want to be as informed as possible. I have no idea if I'll become a legit fan of the books or not, but so far I'm enjoying it. I'm posting these comments only for fun.