Armand With Dominant Male S/o pt 2
Backstory: Louis and Armand talk to Daniel about you. Armands, strange feelings and possessiveness of you is revealed. The obsession that Armand reveals for you is unsettling, Daniel can't help but wonder, what happened to you.
Authors note: heres part 2.
click here for part 1.
Tell me if you want a final part 3, which would be, sex.
My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+
The following evening, the soft hum of the dark outside was muted by the tension inside Louis and Armandās apartment. Daniel Molloy, with his usual casual demeanor, entered the dimly lit space, clutching his laptop and a leather folder. The previous night's revelations had stirred something in him, a hunger for more information about the enigmatic [Your Name], the vampire whose existence seemed to linger between Louis and Armand like a forgotten melody.
Louis, dressed in his usual understated elegance, stood by the window, his back to Daniel while muttering a soft tune to the volin playing through the speakers.
Armand, seated at the dining table, his caramel-toned skin glowing softly under the elegant light bulb, observed Daniel with an unreadable expression. The sharp angles of Armandās face, framed by his dark, wavy hair, gave him an ethereal presenceāhis deep brown eyes tinted with orange, so often intense and calculating, betrayed nothing.
Daniel set down his recorder and laptop on the table before opening the folder and placing it next to the recorder. He smiled awkwardly, clearing his throat as he took a seat. āIāve had some time to think about what we discussed yesterday. About [Your Name].ā He let the words hang in the air, watching the way Louisā posture stiffened slightly. Daniel slightly fixed his glasses as he stared at his computer.
Louis finally turned from the window, his dark eyes meeting Danielās. āYes. I imagine youāve found more to ask about him.ā His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of unease that Armand noticed, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Louis took his seat beside Armand, placing Claudiaās diary on the tableāa relic from a time long past, its pages filled with the ramblings, insights, and sometimes unsettling thoughts of a vampire trapped in a body far too young for the horrors sheād witnessed.
Daniel glanced at the diary, flipping it open to where he had last left off. He furrowed his brow as he noticed something strange. āThis wasnāt like this when I saw it last,ā Daniel remarked, his voice cautious. He thumbed through the pages, stopping at a few that had clearly been repaired, the tears mended with meticulous care.
āYou repaired the pages?ā Daniel asked, glancing up at Louis.
Louis sighed, his fingers trailing over the tableās surface. āI did,ā he admitted quietly. āThere were things⦠things I couldnāt bear to read again.ā
Armandās gaze never left Louis, though his expression remained impassive. His voice, smooth and steady, cut through the silence. āThe pages Louis tore out pertained to [Your Name],ā he revealed. His words were calm, but the tension between him and Louis was palpable.
Daniel, ever the journalist, leaned in, intrigued. āWhy rip them out? What was so important that you couldnāt stand to see it?ā
Louis hesitated, his eyes flickering with something Daniel couldnāt quite place. He looked to Armand for a moment before speaking, his voice soft but firm. āBecause they were Claudiaās thoughts. Her observations about me, about Armand⦠and about [Your Name].ā
Armandās fingers twitched slightly under the table, but he said nothing. Louis took a deep breath, his hand moving to rest gently on Armandās. āShe was⦠perceptive,ā Louis continued, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. āShe knew things about our lives that I refused to acknowledge.ā
Danielās curiosity deepened. He thumbed through a few more pages, stopping when something caught his eye. He began to read aloud, his voice filling the room with the words written by a vampire long gone.
āāArmand is unfaithful to Louis,āā
Daniel read, his tone almost cautious, testing the waters.
āHe thinks Louis doesnāt see it, but I do. I see everything. Armandās heart may belong to Louis, but his soul (If he even has one) belongs to another. To [Your Name].āā
The room grew still, the weight of Claudiaās words settling like a heavy fog. Louis remained motionless, his hand still resting on Armandās, but his grip tightened slightly.
āClaudia knew,ā Daniel said softly, glancing between them. āShe saw what was happening between Armand and [Your Name], but you⦠you didnāt?ā
Louisā eyes flickered, a mix of pain and resignation. āI saw it,ā he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. āBut I chose not to believe it. I didnāt want to.ā
Daniel leaned back in his chair, processing this new revelation. āSo, you were blissfully unaware. Or rather, you wanted to be.ā
Armand finally spoke, his voice calm, yet with a certain edge that made Danielās skin prickle. āLouisā love for [Your Name] was always there, but he never acted on it. He feared losing what little he had leftālosing me, losing Claudia. He couldnāt bear the thought of ruining it.ā
Louisā jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his eyes locked on the table.
āAnd you?ā Daniel asked, turning his attention fully to Armand. āYou were with Louis, but it seems [Your Name] was more than just a passing attraction for you.ā Daniel said, typing away at his computer carefully.
Armandās gaze darkened, but his voice remained steady. āI loved [Your Name]. Perhaps more deeply than Iāve ever loved anyone. He was... extraordinary. The way he saw the world, the way he moved through it. I couldnāt help myself.ā He glanced at Louis, his expression softening ever so slightly. āBut my love for [Your Name] didnāt erase what I felt for Louis. Itās not as simple as choosing one over the other.ā
Daniel hummed thoughtfully, piecing it all together. āSo, Claudia knew, Louis knew, and yet you all carried on. Why? Why not confront it?ā
Armand let out a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it. āBecause weāre vampires, Daniel. We live with our sins, with our lies, because sometimes, theyāre easier to bear than the truth.ā
Louis finally broke his silence, his voice thick with emotion. āI couldnāt lose them. Either of them. Not after Lestat, not after everything weād been through.ā
The silence in the room was deafening, the weight of their confessions hanging in the air.
Louis sat stiffly, his gaze unfocused as he absentmindedly rubbed his temple, his discomfort palpable. Armandās expression was cool, his features serene, but there was a tension beneath it allāsomething simmering just beneath the surface.
Daniel, never one to let a moment of discomfort pass without prodding, leaned forward, tapping his notebook urgently. āSomething doesnāt add up,ā he said, his voice cutting through the thick silence. āLouis, youāve been hurt before. Hell, youāve been hurt over and over again. Lestat, Claudia...much more-- and now this? Youāre telling me youād just stay with another lover who ends up cheating? No, thereās more to this story.ā
Louis shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hand pressing harder against his aching forehead. His dark eyes flicked to Armand, but he said nothing. Armandās face remained impassive, though a faint twitch in his jaw betrayed him.
āThereās nothing else to it,ā Armand said, his voice smooth but sharp, as if daring Daniel to push further. His deep brown eyes locked onto Daniel, his control over the situation tightening like a noose. Louis, under Armandās thrall, said nothing, though his discomfort was clear in the lines of his body. The manipulation, subtle but strong, lingered in the air like a poisonous fog.
Daniel narrowed his eyes, sensing the unspoken tension between them but deciding to drop it, at least for now. He knew better than to push too hard when the truth was this fragile. āFine,ā he said, leaning back in his chair, though his pen still danced across the pages of his notebook. āBut how about we delve into something else? Another story, maybe?ā
Armandās gaze flickered for a moment, but he nodded, leaning back in his chair as he spoke.
Armand sat with Louis on the velvet couch, his arm casually draped over Louisā shoulder, their bond at the time seemingly unshakable. Claudia was off somewhere in the apartment, her presence as always felt but unseen.
The door opened softly, and [Your Name] walked in, his presence commanding without needing to say a word. He carried with him a drawing, carefully folded in his hands. His smoky red eyes scanned the room, as if making sure everything was as it should be.
āClaudia,ā [Your Name] called softly, his voice melodic and rich.
Claudia appeared, her curls framing her face as she walked over with cautious curiosity. āWhat is it?ā she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion, as it often was with gifts. But her suspicion melted away as [Your Name] handed her the portrait.
It was an abstract piece, hauntingly beautiful in its strange shapes and shadows, capturing the essence of Claudiaās form without exaggerating her youthful body. It was something more than a reflectionāit was a tribute. Despite her usual aversion to seeing herself represented in any way, Claudia nearly jumped with joy, her eyes wide as she looked at the drawing, her face lighting up in a way it rarely did.
āIt's... beautiful,ā Claudia whispered, holding the drawing with a reverence that was almost foreign to her. She rushed over to Armand and Louis, showing it to them like a prize she had won. āLook! Look what he made!ā Louis haden't seen her this happy in a while.
Armand, always composed, looked at the drawing and was struck by the raw, unsettling beauty of it. But what truly shocked him was the man who stood before him, the artist who had created such a masterpiece. [Your Name]. His smoky red eyes were focused, his sharp jaw moving slightly as he waited for their reactions.
For a brief moment, Armand was speechless, his deep brown eyes locked onto [Your Name]. He hadnāt expected this. He hadnāt expected Louis and Claudia to be acquainted with him, let alone so close to him. The intensity of Armandās gaze was not lost on Louis, who noticed but chose to ignore it, as he often did when it came to things he wasnāt ready to confront.
āBeautiful work,ā Armand finally said, his voice steady but laden with something deeper. Something obsessive.
The drawing was passed between them, admired for its haunting quality, but the true exchange of power in the room went unnoticed. Claudiaās joy, Louisā quiet acknowledgment, and Armandās growing fascination with [Your Name] were now intertwined, even if none of them realized it at the time.
The flashback faded, and the dim light of the apartment settled once again. Daniel, now intrigued more than ever, reached into his folder and pulled out something worn and faded. He gently placed it on the table, his fingers brushing against the fragile edges.
It was a drawingāClaudiaās portrait, old and worn with time but still visible, the haunting beauty still intact despite the years. Danielās eyes were sharp as he looked from the drawing to Armand and Louis. āIs this the one?ā he asked, his voice low but intense.
Armandās eyes widened slightly, his carefully composed facade cracking ever so slightly. Louis, too, looked genuinely shocked, his fingers tracing the edges of the worn paper. They had never expected to see it againācertainly not after all this time.
āI thought it had been destroyed,ā Louis murmured, his voice filled with disbelief. Armand said nothing, his gaze locked onto the drawing as if seeing a ghost from his past.
Daniel, sensing their astonishment, leaned forward. āI picked it up at a pricey bargain,ā he said with a slight smile, tapping the paper gently. āBut Iād say it was worth it.ā
Armandās eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting to the worn-out signature at the bottom of the page. It was faint, nearly burnt out, but it was unmistakable. The signature of [Your Name].
Once it had seemed like a good more hour of talking, Daniel closed his laptop and called it a night.
After Daniel left the apartment, the door closing with a quiet click, the tension that had filled the room seemed to dissolve. Louis remained seated at the table, his thoughts lost in the past, when he felt a gentle brush of lips against his cheek. Armand stood over him, his touch tender, his expression soft but unreadable.
"Iāll return soon," Armand murmured, his voice low and comforting. Louis smiled faintly, his gaze following Armand as he made his way out of the room. He trusted Armand, as he always had, but there was a part of him that couldnāt shake the feeling of something... unsaid.
Armandās steps were silent as he glided down the hallway, his destination clear in his mind. He passed through the grand archways of the apartment until he reached the library, where one of the blood donorsāan obedient mortal, carefully chosenāwaited silently. With a simple motion of his hand, Armand beckoned the man to follow him.
The two entered the library, the scent of old books and polished wood lingering in the air. Armand walked with purpose, his fingers grazing the spines of the countless volumes that lined the shelves. He spoke softly to the donor, his tone gentle yet commanding. "Your sacrifice is greatly appreciated," he said, his deep brown eyes not once meeting the manās gaze. "Your family will receive the funds after this transaction, as promised."
The donor nodded, wordless but obedient, as Armandās hand stopped on a particular book. He didnāt pull it out as one might expect. Instead, the book shifted slightly, triggering the mechanism of a hidden passageway. The library wall creaked open, revealing a narrow staircase that spiraled downwards into the shadows.
Armand descended the steps, the air growing cooler as they went deeper. The donor followed closely behind, his breath quickening with fear and anticipation. As they reached the bottom, the dim light illuminated a grand architectural room. The space was unlike anything else in the apartment, filled with the artistry of centuries. Paintings adorned the walls, handmade poems scattered across a nearby table, their words haunting and timeless. Sculptures, each more breathtaking than the last, were placed with precision and care. Vines hung from the columns, giving the space a Greek and Roman aestheticāa temple for a forgotten god.
At the center of the room, bound in silver cuffs that attached to long, heavily restricted chains, was [Your Name]. His presence filled the room as much as the artwork surrounding him. Armand's steps slowed as he approached, a soft smile pulling at his lips. His voice, as smooth as silk, echoed gently through the space.
āHello, my love,ā Armand cooed, his dark eyes never leaving [Your Name]ās form. āI wouldnāt have needed to do this if you hadnāt tried to escape.ā His smile was sweet, but there was a sinister undertone to his words. The chains clinked softly as [Your Name] shifted, his hands still busy working on a sculpture. He didnāt look at Armand immediately, his focus still on the statue he had been creating, the marble coming to life beneath his skilled hands.
But when [Your Name] finally turned his head to meet Armandās gaze, the room seemed to still. Armand, with the speed of a striking serpent, vamp-sped toward him, his lips brushing against [Your Name]ās in a kiss that was both possessive and tender. There was a softness in Armandās touch, but also the undeniable reminder of who held the power.
āIāve brought you food,ā Armand whispered against [Your Name]ās lips, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pulled back slightly. His eyes flicked toward the donor, who stood silently by the doorway, his fate already sealed. āItās been too long since youāve fed properly.ā
The donorās heart raced, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he realized what he was. Not a sacrifice for his family, but a meal.
[Your Name] looked at the donor briefly, but his focus returned to Armand, their connection fraught with tension. The chains that bound him were a constant reminder of the twisted love that had brought them to this moment. Armandās obsession was more than simple infatuationāit was possession, a need that consumed him as much as the hunger he had for blood.
Armand brushed a hand across [Your Name]ās face, his thumb grazing the corner of his mouth. āYou wonāt try to escape again, will you?ā His voice was soft, almost gentle, but there was no mistaking the threat behind the question.
"I don't think fondly of being starved again, escaping sounds tempting, but I...doubt I could ever escape you." Your voiced hummed out, putting your sculpture tools down, as your lips connected with Armands, this time you taking the lead.