masterlist!! (i’ll try my best to update this every time i post!!)
⤷ ゛wips ˎˊ˗!!
˚◞♡ pirate! louis x reader
˚◞♡ dr. fareed x reader
˚◞♡ real rashid (rashid) x reader
˚◞♡ maker!armand x fledgling!reader
currently writing for:
yellowjackets!! 🐝🥩
interview with the vampire!!🧛🏼♀️🩸
a knight of the seven kingdoms!! 📜🖋️
mdni, please!! 🚫 no homophobia, transphobia, racism, xenophobia allowed, you will be blocked!!
asks/requests are open!! please do not request topics covering: pedophilia, rape, scat/pee, thank you!!
latest fic: armand x alicent hightower coded! reader
frankenstein taglist!! (please send an ask with your @ and what you’d like to be tagged in!): @jspidey5 , @vampsclassiffied, @homiesexual-or-homosexual, @frozenhuntress67, @calam-arii, @progirl88 , @qardasngan , @itsthedanceofitalywoahwoahwoah , @pixviee @punkandnerdy9
enjoy!! likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated!! i mostly started writing for myself, so i'm glad to see people enjoy my work!! ₊˚ෆˎˊ˗
my louis would be devastated after that. he'd be on suicide watch again. what the fuck was this lukewarm c'est la vie bullshit. right after his daughter basically denounced him forever we're back on the bench psychoanalysing lestat because god forbid we let the weight of anything settle. the writer's questionable choices. at least have the courage to let it linger? at least you take it seriously first, if you're gonna ask the same from me?
Hello, how are you? I hope I am not bothering you. I am writing to you as I am living through the hardest moments of my life. Hashem is slowly dying in front of my eyes and our children. He needs an urgent surgery, and I am helpless to save him. Please, your donation and sharing of our story could be the reason my husband's life is saved! My children deserve not to lose their father. Verified by @/gazavetters #53 @qamar2026
Share Samar's story to help her get the money she needs to save her family!! Repost, comment, spread the word!! Donate if you can and share this post to those who are able to help!!!!!
Samar's Urgent Plea: Save Qamar and Omar | Chuffed | Non-profit charity and social enterprise fundraising
okayy so i recently watched s.1 ep.7 of hotd so can we get like coven leader armand with a short tempered alicent-like reader?
A serious trigger warning for domestic violence and allusions to SA. Please take care of yourself and do not read this if you are at all triggered or uncomfortable with reading about that.
note: manipulation (not just armand), blood drinking (consensual and not), violence but no gore, NUCLEAR family, Santiago is a scapegoat for violence for me idgaf, reader is as morally gray and repressed as Alicent is in the show, hints to nsfw
Being under your maker, Vincent's, care was a privilege. It was something you were reminded of every night of your existence.
He was the one who graciously allowed you and your children to reside in his family's home under careful supervision. They were your responsibility, your burden, and your reason for living all at once.
They had come from your human flesh and were given a chance at survival with your tainted blood. The sweet agony of hearing their screams during birth and their subsequent transformation was almost unbearable. It meant they were alive, and that was one of the worst things they could be under Vincent's roof.
You fantasized about what your life would be like without the burden of your children. If perhaps you had never allowed yourself to be entranced by Vincent in both life and death, you would already be in the ground. Rotting seemed preferable to the life you led with your family.
The oldest of your children, Alexander, was disappointing. He failed at virtually everything a vampire of his age and caliber should have already succeeded at. His own coven, fledglings, responsibilty you had the unfortunate privilege of having at half his age. None of the hopes you had for him never fully realized, and you made sure to mention it whenever you got the chance. You were not deaf to the gossip and insults that were hurled his way by other members of the coven; you simply stopped caring to refute them ages ago.
Helen and Dante, your third and fourth-born respectively, were your saving graces. They had enough sense to hide away far out of sight from the rest of the coven's prying eyes before they could embarrass you further. You made sure they had a semblence of status as your children, but your efforts only distanced themselves further away. They were sweet and pliant in a way that gutwrenchingly reminded you of yourself, long ago. Before the blood and the killing and Vincent.
And then there was Amon. He was the only one out of your children that truly saw you. The only one who steadfastedly assured you that you had made the right choice in staying with Vincent, among other things. You tried your best to ignore that glint in his eyes when he looked at you. It was like he saw you as more of a person of interest, a fine specimen rather than his mother and superior. What terrified you the most, however, was his willingness to defend your honor over the smallest of slights. While it was…rewarding to see the aftermath of his attacks, you scolded him endlessly that he was not yet free to do whatever he wished and that he was no coven leader.
That seemed to work, if only for a short while. But nothing stuck forever, and then there would be another crisis for you to tend to.
Despite his best efforts, Amon remained as equally troublesome as Alexander. It sickened you to think what would become of your oafish older sons and unsullied younger children.
Vincent was another story entirely. It was one of your deepest sources of shame, how you came to be his.
—
You could hardly look away from him. A vampire with dark olive skin and piercing orange eyes was before you, a beauty unlike anything you had ever beheld. His lips were engaged in conversation with Vincent, an exchange between coven leaders. It was a sight you were accustomed to, but never was a leader as poised and attractive as this one.
"Ow! " You whipped your head around at the sudden exclamation from behind you. Dante was rubbing his arm, with Alexander looking a little too innocent for your liking. The look you shot the two of them made their backs stand a little straigher.
"Are they going to be a problem, Signore Vincent? " The Parisian coven leader, Armand, asked your maker.
Vincent coughed, springing you into action by offering a steady hand on his back and a handkerchief. He waved you off, but leaned on your palm as he responded.
"No, Maître. You must forgive my children, they are quite adept at, " He paused to ponder a gentle description of your sons. "Unruly displays of affection. But I swear to you that we will cause no disruptions to your troupe. "
"Very well. " Armand flicked his attention between you and Vincent before stepping aside and allowing you all further into the theater. You guided your maker to a seat as he began his coughing fit.
Alexander, ever the 'charmer', immediately honed in and began chatting up a dark haired vampiress. Amon sulked in a corner, joined by his sister shortly after. Dante was quickly singled out by members of the band and was in enthusiastic conversation with the musicians.
"You're doing it again. " You looked down at Vincent. At your confused look, he said, "Pinpointing every one of them, keeping tally marks of their transgressions and concocting a speech for later. "
"I don't concoct. " You said, incredulous.
Vincent seemed to disagree. He took your hand, and it took everything in your being not to wrench it out of his clammy grasp. "Stop your worries. Everyone is safe, and you need not be so guarded. "
Training your face into a strained grin, you wordlessly nodded. You gently unslipped your hand from him and whispered.
"I'm going to coffin. Tell the children I said good night, please. " His smile and soft eyes haunted you on your trek from the foyer of the theater to the inner bowels of the building. You found your shared coffin with relative ease, considering its position in the middle of the room. Your children's coffins encircled the space to make it seem like a mausoleum.
You contemplated locking yourself in the coffin with a padlock, never to emerge for anyone or anything ever again.
"That would not be wise, " A voice spoke from the ether, jolting you from your thoughts of passive despair.
"Maître? I apologize, I did not mean for my thoughts to be so…intrusive. " You offered, clasping your hands together, knuckles turning white. The coven leader, your new leader, approached your form with a confidence you had not seen Vincent carry himself with in ages. You maintained eye contact, his golden irises never once wavering to blink or drag his gaze up and down your body. It was like he was psychically trying to pry open your soul, hold it in his hands for the both of you to see.
What terrified you the most was the fact that you wouldn't have denied him that privilege.
He leaned close to your face, still fixated on you. "Are you unhappy with your lodgings? Is the space my coven has graciously prepared for you and your family inadequate? "
You shook your head. He beckoned you to speak. "No, not at all, Maître. I simply…" Your gaze left his as your mind drifted to your maker. "I do not easily acclimate to new surroundings. I..wanted to find comfort on my own, rather than disturb Vincent with my tossing and turning. "
"Your Vincent does not tolerate you getting comfortable? "
"…Quite the opposite. Vincent revels in making me as uncomfortable as possible. " You hanged your head in shame. You didn't catch the split look of understanding that showed on Armand's face before he spoke.
"I see. " He turned his head towards the coffin, still unopened and the newest one from the local funeral parlor. He lifted the lid with one hand, and you tilted your head to look at the interior.
"I was told that this particular lining is quite lush. " He took your hand, ignoring the slight flinch the moment his flesh grazed yours, and placed it on the inside walls. The fabric lining the interior was unlike anything you had felt before.
"Is this velvet? " You looked at him in disbelief, gasping at his soft smile and nod. You backed away from the coffin as if you were burnt. "I-We cannot thank you enough, Maître. Truly, this is a gift we do not deserve-"
"Nonsense. " Armand gently interrupted your protests. "You are vampires, same as the rest of us. We all know the importance of rest, and the place where we choose to lay our head greatly influences our ability to hunt. " He took your hand once more, finding your wide-eyed gaze as he placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. "Another influence happens to be the person we lay with, as well. " You gulped, mostly in shock and partly to smother the simmering lust you felt bubble underneath the flesh Armand's fingers found.
Just as you were about to act, whether to act upon your desire or push him away, you would never know. A scream and the sound of objects being thrown snapped you and Armand out of your shared reverie. You snatched your hand back, immediately speeding away towards the building commotion.
The main foyer was in disarray, chairs and wayward bottles were in pieces on the floor. A crowd of vampires were shouting profanities and pleas to stop fighting, and you couldn't tell where your maker and children were. You managed to zero in on a flash of your youngest child's, Dante's, hair color. Your hair color. Your child was the one in danger.
You launched yourself straight into the crowd with your supernatural speed, inadvertedly knocking several members of Armand's coven to the ground with the force of your appearance. Dante was being held to the floor, screaming and bleeding from the head, an older vampire whose face you could not see cackling at his despair. Helen lay crumpled on the floor next to him, although you were unable to see any wounds. You acted without thinking and slit the throat of the vampire holding Dante down, picked his shocked form up and threw him to the side.
You kneeled to Dante's writhing body, your questions almost inaudible by his cries of pain. You shushed him quietly, bringing his and Helen's head to your lap. A quick nick at your wrist made the blood come flowing out and into your son's mouth. As he began to suckle, you locked eyes with the closest vampire, one with curly parted hair and a frightened look.
"Where is my maker? Where is Vincent? " He shook his head. "My Alex? And Amon? " They all stared, slackjawed and wide eyed.
"FIND THEM. NOW! " Your voice boomed throughout the room, spurring the crowd into action. Dante unlatched himself from your wrist with a groan, and you gingerly smoothed back the hairs on his head. You moved your bleeding wrist to Helen's mouth, urging her unconscious mind to drink.
"Shh, love. Where is your father and brothers? What happened, Dante? " He swallowed before speaking with blood stained teeth.
"Vincent wasn't feeling himself, he-he asked Alexander to escort him outside. I think he was with Eglee, so he ignored father. Amon said he'd do it. I don't know where they went, but next thing I knew Santiago was throwing his arm over me, and-and he was squeezing so hard! Helen tried to stop him but he didn't. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. " Dante continued rambling, breaking down into sobs that you shushed away.
You helped Dante sit up so you could hug him properly. Helen made a small sound in her sleep, and you sighed in relief. You wanted to sob, too. You settled for squeezing your children harder.
—
Both coven leaders were talking in Armand's office. Amon returned alongside his ailing father immediately at your psychic command. They were supposedly on a father-son walk, one filled with revelations and a structured bond as your two youngest children were actively in harms way.
You replayed the moment you shared with Armand at your coffin. How foolish were you to think that something as trivial as a coffin was enough to signify a true alliance. Your anger showed in the rhythmic pattern your nails made against the wood of your seat. There was a pain steadily growing throughout your jaw with how tightly you held it shut for fear of unleashing a frenzy held deep within your soul.
The sound of footsteps approaching you caused you to stand, arms crossed and your teeth clacking in rage and impatience. Vincent slowly entered the room, helped by Alexander. You crossed the distance in a flash to deliver a blow to the head to your son. His head cracked against the wall, and his face morphed into one of betrayal and hate.
"That, " You pointed at him, swatting at Vincent's attempts to corral you away from Alex. "Was only a fraction! Of the pain your brother and sister endured in your absence. " You raised your hand once more, but lowered it almost immediately. You scoffed and shook your head. "You are no child of mine. If only it were possible to return to my mortal years, I would've ensured I would never be able to bear a son as useless as you! " You screamed at his putrid face, all twisted into a scowl, as if he had any right to act indignant. Vincent tried once more to calm you, but you ripped yourself away from his grasp.
"Out. " You dismissed your oldest disappointment out, and he left with nothing but a slam of the door. Your maker, despite his weakened form, was sturdy enough to pin you to the wall you had knocked Alexander into just moments ago. You squirmed in vain as Vincent began to bombard you with his own form of torture.
You could do nothing as his fangs sunk into your neck and began to drink. The feeling of his mouth suctioning your blood into him, nourishing him as it weakened you, was one you were all too familiar with. There was a cobweb in the corner of the room, and you wondered if the spider that created it was satisfied with its work or if it too was miserable in the web of its making.
After what seemed like hours of feeding, Vincent finally unlatched himself from your neck and allowed you to collapse to the floor, hard. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you noticed he stood a little straighter, maintained his balance a little easier now that he had his fill of you.
"Armand has allowed us to stay, grazie Dio. Groveling is something I despise doing, you know that. " He nudged your head with his shoe. "Isn't it? I was asking you a question, dear. "
"Yes. I know. " Your words tumbled out like a small child still learning syntax.
"And yet, I had to do sooo much of it. No thanks to your, " He hissed out the final word as if it pained him to say it. "Theatrics. " His hand found your scalp, tugging you up onto your tip toes. You grasped at his hold, fighting to be let free, to fall to the ground so you wouldn't have to look at him.
"I believe a thank you is in order, dearest. Would it not be for me, you would have been outcasted. Discarded without a second thought. " He pouted his lips and you wanted to rip them off. "But your children need you. Your husband needs you. We can't live without you, carissimo. " His lips grazed your cheek as a blood-tear trickled down your face.
"Well? "
"T-Thank you, Vincent. I wouldn't-could never live without you or the children either. " You managed to choke out as his tongue lathed up the trail of your tear. He hummed against your skin.
"Of course, my love. I expect Armand to feel that same regret from you, alright? " He smiled at your confused expression before pressing a kiss to your lips.
"He requested to see you tonight. So I expect to hear nothing more of this nonsense after you are done with him, yes? "
"Yes, Vincent. "
"Hm, what a good pet. "
—
You made your way to Armand's office on unsteady feet. Everyone else had gone to coffin, although you suspected that they had simply confined themselves to rooms in the Theater to avoid interacting with you and your family anymore. You couldn't find the energy to blame them, or do much of anything but trudge slowly to Armand.
The only thing that kept you moving was the thought that you didn't have to spend the night with Vincent's fangs buried in your neck. Not even to feed. Just to hold in his jaw a reminder that he could take away your Dark Gift as easily as he had given it.
Armand opened the door himself before you had a chance to knock. You did little more than sway for a minute before him before he caught you. Any strength you had left in your body was fading quickly, and Armand understood that you needed to feed.
He cradled your head so tenderly you almost sobbed. You wrapped your arms around his midriff, and he allowed it. You smelled his blood, but you ignored the urge to latch onto him and drink in favor of being held for just a moment longer.
"I will not let you go. Please feed, you need to regain your strength. " He whispered close to your ear. You allowed his wrist to rest on your lips and you suckled. Armand let out a sigh, and he began to stroke your head. Mentally, you asked the question:
"Why are you being so kind? I attacked one of your own, I should be punished! "
"Based on your state, I say you have suffered enough. Santiago was out of line, and he was swiftly dealt with, thanks to you. " You paused at your feeding to gaze up at his face. "You were brilliant. Santiago needed to be silenced, and he was. I understand that you were just trying to protect your children. Your protectiveness is…admirable. "
Your face was in Armand's hands. Once again, you allowed yourself to be picked apart and looked upon with total vulnerability by this entity in front of you. Armand smiled as he wiped away a drop of blood from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He offered the smudged liquid to you, and you allowed the tip of his finger to press against your tongue. You closed your mouth, lathing his appendage in your saliva, never breaking eye contact with Armand once. He slowly pulled away his thumb from your mouth, and you pressed a kiss to the tip of it before he removed it entirely.
He smiled at your rejuvinated face, your eyes filled with that same lust from eariler that night. Armand allowed you to pull him in, to press your lips against his and taste his blood. He guided you to his coffin, allowed you to manipulate his limbs to your liking, and later hold you in the afterglow of your communion.
"Maître? " He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder and hummed. "Did…Did Vincent beg you? "
"What? "
You turned to rest your chin on his chest. "Vincent. He told me that he begged and groveled to try and convince you to let me stay. Is what he says true? "
Armand stroked your cheek. "Quite the opposite. It felt like I was the one convincing him to allow you to stay. " The change in your demeanor was immediate. He continued.
"Like I said, I was moved by your dedication to your family. Vincent, on the other hand, saw your devotion as, and I quote, 'a fucking nightmare'. " He gently patted your face to bring your focus back to him. "I have no reason to lie to you. Please, if you truly want the best for you and your children, you know that it no longer involves Vincent. "
"But he said…was all of it a lie? " Your breathing started to get heavy, and Armand pinched his face together in pity. He pressed your face into his naked chest as you sobbed, your tears leaving a bloody mess in its wake.
He had no reason to lie, but that did not mean he had a reason to tell the truth, either.
author's note: I really apologize to the anon that requested this, I hope the length makes up for the wait!! I really got lost in the plot sauce :( I hope you all enjoyed reading!!!
okayy so i recently watched s.1 ep.7 of hotd so can we get like coven leader armand with a short tempered alicent-like reader?
A serious trigger warning for domestic violence and allusions to SA. Please take care of yourself and do not read this if you are at all triggered or uncomfortable with reading about that.
note: manipulation (not just armand), blood drinking (consensual and not), violence but no gore, NUCLEAR family, Santiago is a scapegoat for violence for me idgaf, reader is as morally gray and repressed as Alicent is in the show, hints to nsfw
Being under your maker, Vincent's, care was a privilege. It was something you were reminded of every night of your existence.
He was the one who graciously allowed you and your children to reside in his family's home under careful supervision. They were your responsibility, your burden, and your reason for living all at once.
They had come from your human flesh and were given a chance at survival with your tainted blood. The sweet agony of hearing their screams during birth and their subsequent transformation was almost unbearable. It meant they were alive, and that was one of the worst things they could be under Vincent's roof.
You fantasized about what your life would be like without the burden of your children. If perhaps you had never allowed yourself to be entranced by Vincent in both life and death, you would already be in the ground. Rotting seemed preferable to the life you led with your family.
The oldest of your children, Alexander, was disappointing. He failed at virtually everything a vampire of his age and caliber should have already succeeded at. His own coven, fledglings, responsibilty you had the unfortunate privilege of having at half his age. None of the hopes you had for him never fully realized, and you made sure to mention it whenever you got the chance. You were not deaf to the gossip and insults that were hurled his way by other members of the coven; you simply stopped caring to refute them ages ago.
Helen and Dante, your third and fourth-born respectively, were your saving graces. They had enough sense to hide away far out of sight from the rest of the coven's prying eyes before they could embarrass you further. You made sure they had a semblence of status as your children, but your efforts only distanced themselves further away. They were sweet and pliant in a way that gutwrenchingly reminded you of yourself, long ago. Before the blood and the killing and Vincent.
And then there was Amon. He was the only one out of your children that truly saw you. The only one who steadfastedly assured you that you had made the right choice in staying with Vincent, among other things. You tried your best to ignore that glint in his eyes when he looked at you. It was like he saw you as more of a person of interest, a fine specimen rather than his mother and superior. What terrified you the most, however, was his willingness to defend your honor over the smallest of slights. While it was…rewarding to see the aftermath of his attacks, you scolded him endlessly that he was not yet free to do whatever he wished and that he was no coven leader.
That seemed to work, if only for a short while. But nothing stuck forever, and then there would be another crisis for you to tend to.
Despite his best efforts, Amon remained as equally troublesome as Alexander. It sickened you to think what would become of your oafish older sons and unsullied younger children.
Vincent was another story entirely. It was one of your deepest sources of shame, how you came to be his.
—
You could hardly look away from him. A vampire with dark olive skin and piercing orange eyes was before you, a beauty unlike anything you had ever beheld. His lips were engaged in conversation with Vincent, an exchange between coven leaders. It was a sight you were accustomed to, but never was a leader as poised and attractive as this one.
"Ow! " You whipped your head around at the sudden exclamation from behind you. Dante was rubbing his arm, with Alexander looking a little too innocent for your liking. The look you shot the two of them made their backs stand a little straigher.
"Are they going to be a problem, Signore Vincent? " The Parisian coven leader, Armand, asked your maker.
Vincent coughed, springing you into action by offering a steady hand on his back and a handkerchief. He waved you off, but leaned on your palm as he responded.
"No, Maître. You must forgive my children, they are quite adept at, " He paused to ponder a gentle description of your sons. "Unruly displays of affection. But I swear to you that we will cause no disruptions to your troupe. "
"Very well. " Armand flicked his attention between you and Vincent before stepping aside and allowing you all further into the theater. You guided your maker to a seat as he began his coughing fit.
Alexander, ever the 'charmer', immediately honed in and began chatting up a dark haired vampiress. Amon sulked in a corner, joined by his sister shortly after. Dante was quickly singled out by members of the band and was in enthusiastic conversation with the musicians.
"You're doing it again. " You looked down at Vincent. At your confused look, he said, "Pinpointing every one of them, keeping tally marks of their transgressions and concocting a speech for later. "
"I don't concoct. " You said, incredulous.
Vincent seemed to disagree. He took your hand, and it took everything in your being not to wrench it out of his clammy grasp. "Stop your worries. Everyone is safe, and you need not be so guarded. "
Training your face into a strained grin, you wordlessly nodded. You gently unslipped your hand from him and whispered.
"I'm going to coffin. Tell the children I said good night, please. " His smile and soft eyes haunted you on your trek from the foyer of the theater to the inner bowels of the building. You found your shared coffin with relative ease, considering its position in the middle of the room. Your children's coffins encircled the space to make it seem like a mausoleum.
You contemplated locking yourself in the coffin with a padlock, never to emerge for anyone or anything ever again.
"That would not be wise, " A voice spoke from the ether, jolting you from your thoughts of passive despair.
"Maître? I apologize, I did not mean for my thoughts to be so…intrusive. " You offered, clasping your hands together, knuckles turning white. The coven leader, your new leader, approached your form with a confidence you had not seen Vincent carry himself with in ages. You maintained eye contact, his golden irises never once wavering to blink or drag his gaze up and down your body. It was like he was psychically trying to pry open your soul, hold it in his hands for the both of you to see.
What terrified you the most was the fact that you wouldn't have denied him that privilege.
He leaned close to your face, still fixated on you. "Are you unhappy with your lodgings? Is the space my coven has graciously prepared for you and your family inadequate? "
You shook your head. He beckoned you to speak. "No, not at all, Maître. I simply…" Your gaze left his as your mind drifted to your maker. "I do not easily acclimate to new surroundings. I..wanted to find comfort on my own, rather than disturb Vincent with my tossing and turning. "
"Your Vincent does not tolerate you getting comfortable? "
"…Quite the opposite. Vincent revels in making me as uncomfortable as possible. " You hanged your head in shame. You didn't catch the split look of understanding that showed on Armand's face before he spoke.
"I see. " He turned his head towards the coffin, still unopened and the newest one from the local funeral parlor. He lifted the lid with one hand, and you tilted your head to look at the interior.
"I was told that this particular lining is quite lush. " He took your hand, ignoring the slight flinch the moment his flesh grazed yours, and placed it on the inside walls. The fabric lining the interior was unlike anything you had felt before.
"Is this velvet? " You looked at him in disbelief, gasping at his soft smile and nod. You backed away from the coffin as if you were burnt. "I-We cannot thank you enough, Maître. Truly, this is a gift we do not deserve-"
"Nonsense. " Armand gently interrupted your protests. "You are vampires, same as the rest of us. We all know the importance of rest, and the place where we choose to lay our head greatly influences our ability to hunt. " He took your hand once more, finding your wide-eyed gaze as he placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. "Another influence happens to be the person we lay with, as well. " You gulped, mostly in shock and partly to smother the simmering lust you felt bubble underneath the flesh Armand's fingers found.
Just as you were about to act, whether to act upon your desire or push him away, you would never know. A scream and the sound of objects being thrown snapped you and Armand out of your shared reverie. You snatched your hand back, immediately speeding away towards the building commotion.
The main foyer was in disarray, chairs and wayward bottles were in pieces on the floor. A crowd of vampires were shouting profanities and pleas to stop fighting, and you couldn't tell where your maker and children were. You managed to zero in on a flash of your youngest child's, Dante's, hair color. Your hair color. Your child was the one in danger.
You launched yourself straight into the crowd with your supernatural speed, inadvertedly knocking several members of Armand's coven to the ground with the force of your appearance. Dante was being held to the floor, screaming and bleeding from the head, an older vampire whose face you could not see cackling at his despair. Helen lay crumpled on the floor next to him, although you were unable to see any wounds. You acted without thinking and slit the throat of the vampire holding Dante down, picked his shocked form up and threw him to the side.
You kneeled to Dante's writhing body, your questions almost inaudible by his cries of pain. You shushed him quietly, bringing his and Helen's head to your lap. A quick nick at your wrist made the blood come flowing out and into your son's mouth. As he began to suckle, you locked eyes with the closest vampire, one with curly parted hair and a frightened look.
"Where is my maker? Where is Vincent? " He shook his head. "My Alex? And Amon? " They all stared, slackjawed and wide eyed.
"FIND THEM. NOW! " Your voice boomed throughout the room, spurring the crowd into action. Dante unlatched himself from your wrist with a groan, and you gingerly smoothed back the hairs on his head. You moved your bleeding wrist to Helen's mouth, urging her unconscious mind to drink.
"Shh, love. Where is your father and brothers? What happened, Dante? " He swallowed before speaking with blood stained teeth.
"Vincent wasn't feeling himself, he-he asked Alexander to escort him outside. I think he was with Eglee, so he ignored father. Amon said he'd do it. I don't know where they went, but next thing I knew Santiago was throwing his arm over me, and-and he was squeezing so hard! Helen tried to stop him but he didn't. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. " Dante continued rambling, breaking down into sobs that you shushed away.
You helped Dante sit up so you could hug him properly. Helen made a small sound in her sleep, and you sighed in relief. You wanted to sob, too. You settled for squeezing your children harder.
—
Both coven leaders were talking in Armand's office. Amon returned alongside his ailing father immediately at your psychic command. They were supposedly on a father-son walk, one filled with revelations and a structured bond as your two youngest children were actively in harms way.
You replayed the moment you shared with Armand at your coffin. How foolish were you to think that something as trivial as a coffin was enough to signify a true alliance. Your anger showed in the rhythmic pattern your nails made against the wood of your seat. There was a pain steadily growing throughout your jaw with how tightly you held it shut for fear of unleashing a frenzy held deep within your soul.
The sound of footsteps approaching you caused you to stand, arms crossed and your teeth clacking in rage and impatience. Vincent slowly entered the room, helped by Alexander. You crossed the distance in a flash to deliver a blow to the head to your son. His head cracked against the wall, and his face morphed into one of betrayal and hate.
"That, " You pointed at him, swatting at Vincent's attempts to corral you away from Alex. "Was only a fraction! Of the pain your brother and sister endured in your absence. " You raised your hand once more, but lowered it almost immediately. You scoffed and shook your head. "You are no child of mine. If only it were possible to return to my mortal years, I would've ensured I would never be able to bear a son as useless as you! " You screamed at his putrid face, all twisted into a scowl, as if he had any right to act indignant. Vincent tried once more to calm you, but you ripped yourself away from his grasp.
"Out. " You dismissed your oldest disappointment out, and he left with nothing but a slam of the door. Your maker, despite his weakened form, was sturdy enough to pin you to the wall you had knocked Alexander into just moments ago. You squirmed in vain as Vincent began to bombard you with his own form of torture.
You could do nothing as his fangs sunk into your neck and began to drink. The feeling of his mouth suctioning your blood into him, nourishing him as it weakened you, was one you were all too familiar with. There was a cobweb in the corner of the room, and you wondered if the spider that created it was satisfied with its work or if it too was miserable in the web of its making.
After what seemed like hours of feeding, Vincent finally unlatched himself from your neck and allowed you to collapse to the floor, hard. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you noticed he stood a little straighter, maintained his balance a little easier now that he had his fill of you.
"Armand has allowed us to stay, grazie Dio. Groveling is something I despise doing, you know that. " He nudged your head with his shoe. "Isn't it? I was asking you a question, dear. "
"Yes. I know. " Your words tumbled out like a small child still learning syntax.
"And yet, I had to do sooo much of it. No thanks to your, " He hissed out the final word as if it pained him to say it. "Theatrics. " His hand found your scalp, tugging you up onto your tip toes. You grasped at his hold, fighting to be let free, to fall to the ground so you wouldn't have to look at him.
"I believe a thank you is in order, dearest. Would it not be for me, you would have been outcasted. Discarded without a second thought. " He pouted his lips and you wanted to rip them off. "But your children need you. Your husband needs you. We can't live without you, carissimo. " His lips grazed your cheek as a blood-tear trickled down your face.
"Well? "
"T-Thank you, Vincent. I wouldn't-could never live without you or the children either. " You managed to choke out as his tongue lathed up the trail of your tear. He hummed against your skin.
"Of course, my love. I expect Armand to feel that same regret from you, alright? " He smiled at your confused expression before pressing a kiss to your lips.
"He requested to see you tonight. So I expect to hear nothing more of this nonsense after you are done with him, yes? "
"Yes, Vincent. "
"Hm, what a good pet. "
—
You made your way to Armand's office on unsteady feet. Everyone else had gone to coffin, although you suspected that they had simply confined themselves to rooms in the Theater to avoid interacting with you and your family anymore. You couldn't find the energy to blame them, or do much of anything but trudge slowly to Armand.
The only thing that kept you moving was the thought that you didn't have to spend the night with Vincent's fangs buried in your neck. Not even to feed. Just to hold in his jaw a reminder that he could take away your Dark Gift as easily as he had given it.
Armand opened the door himself before you had a chance to knock. You did little more than sway for a minute before him before he caught you. Any strength you had left in your body was fading quickly, and Armand understood that you needed to feed.
He cradled your head so tenderly you almost sobbed. You wrapped your arms around his midriff, and he allowed it. You smelled his blood, but you ignored the urge to latch onto him and drink in favor of being held for just a moment longer.
"I will not let you go. Please feed, you need to regain your strength. " He whispered close to your ear. You allowed his wrist to rest on your lips and you suckled. Armand let out a sigh, and he began to stroke your head. Mentally, you asked the question:
"Why are you being so kind? I attacked one of your own, I should be punished! "
"Based on your state, I say you have suffered enough. Santiago was out of line, and he was swiftly dealt with, thanks to you. " You paused at your feeding to gaze up at his face. "You were brilliant. Santiago needed to be silenced, and he was. I understand that you were just trying to protect your children. Your protectiveness is…admirable. "
Your face was in Armand's hands. Once again, you allowed yourself to be picked apart and looked upon with total vulnerability by this entity in front of you. Armand smiled as he wiped away a drop of blood from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He offered the smudged liquid to you, and you allowed the tip of his finger to press against your tongue. You closed your mouth, lathing his appendage in your saliva, never breaking eye contact with Armand once. He slowly pulled away his thumb from your mouth, and you pressed a kiss to the tip of it before he removed it entirely.
He smiled at your rejuvinated face, your eyes filled with that same lust from eariler that night. Armand allowed you to pull him in, to press your lips against his and taste his blood. He guided you to his coffin, allowed you to manipulate his limbs to your liking, and later hold you in the afterglow of your communion.
"Maître? " He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder and hummed. "Did…Did Vincent beg you? "
"What? "
You turned to rest your chin on his chest. "Vincent. He told me that he begged and groveled to try and convince you to let me stay. Is what he says true? "
Armand stroked your cheek. "Quite the opposite. It felt like I was the one convincing him to allow you to stay. " The change in your demeanor was immediate. He continued.
"Like I said, I was moved by your dedication to your family. Vincent, on the other hand, saw your devotion as, and I quote, 'a fucking nightmare'. " He gently patted your face to bring your focus back to him. "I have no reason to lie to you. Please, if you truly want the best for you and your children, you know that it no longer involves Vincent. "
"But he said…was all of it a lie? " Your breathing started to get heavy, and Armand pinched his face together in pity. He pressed your face into his naked chest as you sobbed, your tears leaving a bloody mess in its wake.
He had no reason to lie, but that did not mean he had a reason to tell the truth, either.
author's note: I really apologize to the anon that requested this, I hope the length makes up for the wait!! I really got lost in the plot sauce :( I hope you all enjoyed reading!!!
note: talks of depression and unhealthy coping mechanisms, violence (not towards reader), weird and cute Armand (aw), Sant*ago is a Warning (but he gets his comeuppance), like 60% plot and 40% Armand i'm so sorry
It had been a month since you awoke from your stupor. Three months since Dawn had passed. Three months of betrayal left to fester and destroy what little trust you found in yourself to have.
It was difficult to discover how well your coven operated in your absence. As expected of a vampire his age, Armand had done an exceptional job ensuring no one from your coven lacked a purpose.
His approach to leadership and how calculated he was in managing everyone took a considerable amount of weight off of your shoulders. It was all you had wished for when you were still a coven leader.
"Boss? " Missy's irritating recognizable voice broke through your inner thoughts.
"Yes, Missy? "
"You looked kinda dazed for a second…do you need some re-? "
"No. " You cut Missy off. And before she could start apologizing, you signed for her to stop.
"I think the best thing for me right now is to be alone. " You said, calmly.
"O-Okay, boss. I'll let the others know not to disturb. " As she turned away, she quickly added. "But if you ever need anything, just let me know! "
You gave her a glance and nothing more.
The sound of the door closing behind you felt like a weight being lifted from your chest. As much as you loved every one of your original coven members, Missy was exceptionally well versed in smothering. Her efforts of reverence would be better put to use when it came to disposing bodies or teaching the fledglings, but no. She saved her most fervent acts of devotion to you.
You rubbed your eyes, shapes and colors bursting behind your eyelids. You could sense a presence approaching your room, and solemnly rose from your seat and opened the door before they could knock and worsen your mood.
"Why, hello. " Santiago grinned. You slammed the door in his face.
He began to laugh behind the wood as you returned to your chair facing the window. Santiago, the lead actor of the Theatre, was awful to deal with. He consistently attempted to undermine your authority with your original coven, and in all honesty you could have tolerated the disrespect if he made more of an effort to appear blameless.
"I simply wanted to chat, O Great One. Or, was that O Fake One? I've heard whispers that your acts of greatness in the wild wild west were nothing but-" You ripped open the door, unable to stave off the urge to prove him wrong at any cost.
"What do you want, Santiago? Isn't there an audience that needs to be squawked at? " He breathed out a laugh, and the metallic twinge of iron and unwashed gums permeated your nostrils. You fought to keep an unwavering mask while he spoke.
"Squawking? Is that all you beileve we do here? "
"I think that's all you do here, Santiago. I will ask once again, what do you want? "
He leaned against the door, prompting you to put more effort in keeping it as closed as possible. "Join me for a little hunt. It'll be nice to get out, wouldn't you agree? "
You squinted your eyes, tilting your head. "Not five minutes have just passed from you accusing my status as coven leader and now you want me to hunt with you? Is there something in Parisian blood that makes the vampires here so bold? "
He winked. "No, I'm afraid that's all me, darling. " He offered a clawed hand to you. After a moment of just looking at the appendages, he let it fall back to his side. You turned your head the side as he had the gall to lean in close to your face.
"Should you ever decide to leave without the company of your followers, new or old, " You almost gagged at the inhale you heard him take, close to your scalp. "I will gladly be there to show you the wonderous sights of Paris. "
You said nothing, felt a faint smile cross his face before leaving. You remained in the doorway, frozen. Not in shock or fear, but in utter repulsion at the idea of Santiago being your companion or coven member in any capacity. The brief thought of meeting with Armand to discuss Santiago crossed your mind, but you purged it.
Despite how you would have preferred to see Santiago cast out from the coven, you knew that the Theatre needed an act. And you had no interest in being on stage.
—
You were sitting on your throne, from one of the countless dens you had established with your coven. Dawn was sitting at your feet, her hair was on fire, but she didn't mind. There was a bleeding heart in one hand, in the other was a dagger.
You stabbed the muscle, and instantly woke. Panting, you sat up, dishelved and sheets stained with your blood-sweat. You thought of beckoning Missy, but decided against it.
"Go back to sleep. "
There was a figure in the corner of your room. Despite it being day outside, you couldn't make out their features, nor did you recognize their voice.
"Rest. You need rest. "
Your eyelids became heavy, but you fought as hard as you could.
"Rest. Please. Nothing will happen if you go to sleep, I promisd. " The voice sounded desperate, clawing at the walls of your mind to drift off.
"Why? " You tried to ask more, do more, but your limbs began to shake. Your hands were vibrating and your brain screamed that you needed to lay down.
"Rest. Now. "
Your head hit the pillow and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. When you awoke, your bedsheets were clean.
—
The rest of your days and early dawns were spent engulfed in paranoia. You were not prepared to face your combined coven, and the comfort your room once brought you was ripped from you that night you dreamt of Dawn and the figure in your room.
Missy tried to reassure you (in her own special way, of course) that she kept watch of your room all day, and no one could go in or out without her seeing. Aside from the fact that you didn't want her to be so close to you, there was a voice telling you that someone else was watching you.
Knock! Knock-knock! Knock!
You sighed at Missy's silly 'password' reverberating through the room. It was a tactic that she had installed to make you feel more safe. If anything, it just made your tolerance for her lessen.
"Hello. " Santiago purred. You almost managed to slam the door in his face, but he seemed to have learned from his last visit and even went as so far to let himself into your room.
"Santiago! Get out! " You yelled.
He ignored your demand, standing in the middle of the room, appraising the furniture and trinkets sprinkled throughout the space.
"I will admit, I didn't take you for a sentimental. "
"Get. Out. Now. " You spoke through gritted teeth.
It was only when he grazed a finger along one of Dawn's necklaces and said, 'I didn't take her for a liar, either' that you leapt to where he stood. He was clearly caught off guard, and shouted when you dug your nails into his shoulders. You threw him to the ground, still keeping your hand embedded in him. He hissed and clawed at your wrist, but the pain didn't register.
You dragged him all the way to Armand's office, disregarding the stares and worried conversations floating from the coven. Wrenching a hand free from his flesh, you swatted at Santiago's face, stunning him for a moment, and then pounded on the door.
Armand opened the door, mouth partially agape as if he was going to say something about being disturbed. He didn't manage to do so, as you barged into his office, a squirming and hissing Santiago in tow.
You flung Santiago into a wayward corner and turned to Armand. He looked curious and deeply confused. You gestured to the vampire cowering in the corner.
"This is your coven? This is who you have allowed my coven, my blood, to fraternize and familiarize themselves with? The way you have allowed this-this fiend to-"
"Fiend?! You drag me out by my wounded shoulders for several minutes and I'M A FIEND?! " You snapped your head towards him.
"You shut your mouth. You are not allowed to speak, no, BREATHE, until I am done talking. " You pointed at Santiago's disraught face and instantly watched your words come to fruition. Faint gasps echoed from behind you as you faced Armand once more.
His expression was briefly impressed before hardening into his usual stare.
"I assume Santiago has..overstepped. I extend my deepest apologies, I will see to it that his actions will recieve proper punishment. "
"Do it right now. " Armand tilted his head. You continued.
"I want to see what your idea of punishment is. I want to see what you’re going to do to him so that I can do something much worse. " Your voice lowered to a whisper by the end of your demand. Armand didn't move a muscle for a moment, a dark glint flickering in his eyes before he nodded. You watched as he made his way to Santiago's squirming form.
Still mute, Santiago tried to physically beg for mercy from his master, but Armand telekinetically lifted him from the floor.
"I see you tried to make yourself known in places you were not wanted. A familiar tale from you, Frances. A stage for a younger man, a whole play for your own ego, two loves when most are satisfied with one. " Santiago's eyes burned bright with hatred at Armand's words. Your bloodlust was threatening to boil over, and Armand could sense it.
"It is a wonder why I have not destroyed you like I did your maker. " His palm produced a ball of flame, and he brought it close to Santiago's face. You could see that the older man's expression was twisted in fear, and a smile almost broke out across your face.
The flames lightly burned the right side of Santiago's cheek, the only sign of acknowledgment from him was the lightest shaking of his hands.
"They are as much of a coven leader as I, Frances. No matter how little we see of them, or how merciful they are. Longevity is a sign of power, and you will do well to remember that we are are the oldest beings in this building. "
Your fangs poked out as Frances' screams echoed throughout the Theater, the smell of burnt flesh lingering for days afterward.
—
Missy began to distance herself after treating Santiago's wound. She screamed at you for the first time, hysterical that you deferred to Armand rather than her for retribution.
'AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOU, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! '
'DID YOU EVER EVEN LOVE US?! LOVE ME?! DAWN?! '
'I hate you. '
You made no move to stop her as she permanently moved in with the rest of the coven. The room felt tens times lighter without her nearby.
The self imposed isolation got worse. Without Missy, no one brought you fresh kills, no one kept you company. Several decades, centuries with your girls, your supposed 'family', and not one of them came to see you despite all of you residing under one roof. You hunted after the coven did, disposed of the bodies in the same way they did, but you still felt empty. The hunt lost all of its exhilaration without someone to share it.
After one particularly chatty evening after opening night of a new play, you heard a soft knock at your door. Not a secret password, not an angry pounding, just a polite tapping.
You opened the door to Armand's face. He had a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. You flickered back and forth from the buds to his features, a small grin slowly forming on your lips.
"What is this for? "
He handed over the bouquet. "For opening night. Every member gets one. "
You shook your head, inhaling the petals' sweet scent. "No, they don't. I would've heard Cassandra's thoughts from here. " At his frozen expression, you explained. "Cassandra was our resident botanist, she's always loved plants. " You smiled fondly at the memories from your time with your coven.
Armand watched your eyes go misty before you asked. "Why are you giving these to me, Armand? "
"I wanted to stave off your sadness. At least for a moment. Similar to Cassandra, your melancholy has a way of traveling far. " You were stunned at the thought of your loneliness making its way all the way to Armand.
"Thank you. It wasn't my intention to make my self pity so..permeable. " You smiled, but one that didn't quite reach your eyes. His hand found your own.
"The troupe has been very curious about you. Would you like to finally meet them? "
"He won't be there, will he? "
"Ever since his unfortunate decision and subsequent consequence, Santiago has made the choice to step away from the spotlight for this particular play. Missy has taken over for him in the meantime. "
You hooked your arm with his, cradling the bouquet in the crook of your arm. "Missy? Oh God, I'm so sorry for the diva you've had to deal with. "
Armand simply laughed. "Don't be, we have the expertise. She's actually quite the actress, you know. "
"Oh, believe me, I know. " You smiled once more, and it felt like the first real one you've made in a while.
author's note: hello! :D i am so sorry for the sudden disappearance, idk wth happened, but i hope ya'll enjoyed reading!! i hope to continue working on my other wips, but we'll see :') depression is really doing me in, but i'm doing much much better <3 (also, the scene with the figure was inspired by Obsession, in case anyone was wondering)
note: talks of depression and unhealthy coping mechanisms, violence (not towards reader), weird and cute Armand (aw), Sant*ago is a Warning (but he gets his comeuppance), like 60% plot and 40% Armand i'm so sorry
It had been a month since you awoke from your stupor. Three months since Dawn had passed. Three months of betrayal left to fester and destroy what little trust you found in yourself to have.
It was difficult to discover how well your coven operated in your absence. As expected of a vampire his age, Armand had done an exceptional job ensuring no one from your coven lacked a purpose.
His approach to leadership and how calculated he was in managing everyone took a considerable amount of weight off of your shoulders. It was all you had wished for when you were still a coven leader.
"Boss? " Missy's irritating recognizable voice broke through your inner thoughts.
"Yes, Missy? "
"You looked kinda dazed for a second…do you need some re-? "
"No. " You cut Missy off. And before she could start apologizing, you signed for her to stop.
"I think the best thing for me right now is to be alone. " You said, calmly.
"O-Okay, boss. I'll let the others know not to disturb. " As she turned away, she quickly added. "But if you ever need anything, just let me know! "
You gave her a glance and nothing more.
The sound of the door closing behind you felt like a weight being lifted from your chest. As much as you loved every one of your original coven members, Missy was exceptionally well versed in smothering. Her efforts of reverence would be better put to use when it came to disposing bodies or teaching the fledglings, but no. She saved her most fervent acts of devotion to you.
You rubbed your eyes, shapes and colors bursting behind your eyelids. You could sense a presence approaching your room, and solemnly rose from your seat and opened the door before they could knock and worsen your mood.
"Why, hello. " Santiago grinned. You slammed the door in his face.
He began to laugh behind the wood as you returned to your chair facing the window. Santiago, the lead actor of the Theatre, was awful to deal with. He consistently attempted to undermine your authority with your original coven, and in all honesty you could have tolerated the disrespect if he made more of an effort to appear blameless.
"I simply wanted to chat, O Great One. Or, was that O Fake One? I've heard whispers that your acts of greatness in the wild wild west were nothing but-" You ripped open the door, unable to stave off the urge to prove him wrong at any cost.
"What do you want, Santiago? Isn't there an audience that needs to be squawked at? " He breathed out a laugh, and the metallic twinge of iron and unwashed gums permeated your nostrils. You fought to keep an unwavering mask while he spoke.
"Squawking? Is that all you beileve we do here? "
"I think that's all you do here, Santiago. I will ask once again, what do you want? "
He leaned against the door, prompting you to put more effort in keeping it as closed as possible. "Join me for a little hunt. It'll be nice to get out, wouldn't you agree? "
You squinted your eyes, tilting your head. "Not five minutes have just passed from you accusing my status as coven leader and now you want me to hunt with you? Is there something in Parisian blood that makes the vampires here so bold? "
He winked. "No, I'm afraid that's all me, darling. " He offered a clawed hand to you. After a moment of just looking at the appendages, he let it fall back to his side. You turned your head the side as he had the gall to lean in close to your face.
"Should you ever decide to leave without the company of your followers, new or old, " You almost gagged at the inhale you heard him take, close to your scalp. "I will gladly be there to show you the wonderous sights of Paris. "
You said nothing, felt a faint smile cross his face before leaving. You remained in the doorway, frozen. Not in shock or fear, but in utter repulsion at the idea of Santiago being your companion or coven member in any capacity. The brief thought of meeting with Armand to discuss Santiago crossed your mind, but you purged it.
Despite how you would have preferred to see Santiago cast out from the coven, you knew that the Theatre needed an act. And you had no interest in being on stage.
—
You were sitting on your throne, from one of the countless dens you had established with your coven. Dawn was sitting at your feet, her hair was on fire, but she didn't mind. There was a bleeding heart in one hand, in the other was a dagger.
You stabbed the muscle, and instantly woke. Panting, you sat up, dishelved and sheets stained with your blood-sweat. You thought of beckoning Missy, but decided against it.
"Go back to sleep. "
There was a figure in the corner of your room. Despite it being day outside, you couldn't make out their features, nor did you recognize their voice.
"Rest. You need rest. "
Your eyelids became heavy, but you fought as hard as you could.
"Rest. Please. Nothing will happen if you go to sleep, I promise. " The voice sounded desperate, clawing at the walls of your mind to drift off.
"Why? " You tried to ask more, do more, but your limbs began to shake. Your hands were vibrating and your brain screamed that you needed to lay down.
"Rest. Now. "
Your head hit the pillow and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. When you awoke, your bedsheets were clean.
—
The rest of your days and early dawns were spent engulfed in paranoia. You were not prepared to face your combined coven, and the comfort your room once brought you was ripped from you that night you dreamt of Dawn and the figure in your room.
Missy tried to reassure you (in her own special way, of course) that she kept watch of your room all day, and no one could go in or out without her seeing. Aside from the fact that you didn't want her to be so close to you, there was a voice telling you that someone else was watching you.
Knock! Knock-knock! Knock!
You sighed at Missy's silly 'password' reverberating through the room. It was a tactic that she had installed to make you feel more safe. If anything, it just made your tolerance for her lessen.
"Hello. " Santiago purred. You almost managed to slam the door in his face, but he seemed to have learned from his last visit and even went as so far to let himself into your room.
"Santiago! Get out! " You yelled.
He ignored your demand, standing in the middle of the room, appraising the furniture and trinkets sprinkled throughout the space.
"I will admit, I didn't take you for a sentimental. "
"Get. Out. Now. " You spoke through gritted teeth.
It was only when he grazed a finger along one of Dawn's necklaces and said, 'I didn't take her for a liar, either' that you leapt to where he stood. He was clearly caught off guard, and shouted when you dug your nails into his shoulders. You threw him to the ground, still keeping your hand embedded in him. He hissed and clawed at your wrist, but the pain didn't register.
You dragged him all the way to Armand's office, disregarding the stares and worried conversations floating from the coven. Wrenching a hand free from his flesh, you swatted at Santiago's face, stunning him for a moment, and then pounded on the door.
Armand opened the door, mouth partially agape as if he was going to say something about being disturbed. He didn't manage to do so, as you barged into his office, a squirming and hissing Santiago in tow.
You flung Santiago into a wayward corner and turned to Armand. He looked curious and deeply confused. You gestured to the vampire cowering in the corner.
"This is your coven? This is who you have allowed my coven, my blood, to fraternize and familiarize themselves with? The way you have allowed this-this fiend to-"
"Fiend?! You drag me out by my wounded shoulders for several minutes and I'M A FIEND?! " You snapped your head towards him.
"You shut your mouth. You are not allowed to speak, no, BREATHE, until I am done talking. " You pointed at Santiago's disraught face and instantly watched your words come to fruition. Faint gasps echoed from behind you as you faced Armand once more.
His expression was briefly impressed before hardening into his usual stare.
"I assume Santiago has..overstepped. I extend my deepest apologies, I will see to it that his actions will recieve proper punishment. "
"Do it right now. " Armand tilted his head. You continued.
"I want to see what your idea of punishment is. I want to see what you’re going to do to him so that I can do something much worse. " Your voice lowered to a whisper by the end of your demand. Armand didn't move a muscle for a moment, a dark glint flickering in his eyes before he nodded. You watched as he made his way to Santiago's squirming form.
Still mute, Santiago tried to physically beg for mercy from his master, but Armand telekinetically lifted him from the floor.
"I see you tried to make yourself known in places you were not wanted. A familiar tale from you, Frances. A stage for a younger man, a whole play for your own ego, two loves when most are satisfied with one. " Santiago's eyes burned bright with hatred at Armand's words. Your bloodlust was threatening to boil over, and Armand could sense it.
"It is a wonder why I have not destroyed you like I did your maker. " His palm produced a ball of flame, and he brought it close to Santiago's face. You could see that the older man's expression was twisted in fear, and a smile almost broke out across your face.
The flames lightly burned the right side of Santiago's cheek, the only sign of acknowledgment from him was the lightest shaking of his hands.
"They are as much of a coven leader as I, Frances. No matter how little we see of them, or how merciful they are. Longevity is a sign of power, and you will do well to remember that we are the oldest beings in this building. "
Your fangs poked out as Frances' screams echoed throughout the Theater, the smell of burnt flesh lingering for days afterward.
—
Missy began to distance herself after treating Santiago's wound. She screamed at you for the first time, hysterical that you deferred to Armand rather than her for retribution.
'AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOU, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! '
'DID YOU EVER EVEN LOVE US?! LOVE ME?! DAWN?! '
'I hate you. '
You made no move to stop her as she permanently moved in with the rest of the coven. The room felt tens times lighter without her nearby.
The self imposed isolation got worse. Without Missy, no one brought you fresh kills, no one kept you company. Several decades, centuries with your girls, your supposed 'family', and not one of them came to see you despite all of you residing under one roof. You hunted after the coven did, disposed of the bodies in the same way they did, but you still felt empty. The hunt lost all of its exhilaration without someone to share it.
After one particularly chatty evening after opening night of a new play, you heard a soft knock at your door. Not a secret password, not an angry pounding, just a polite tapping.
You opened the door to Armand's face. He had a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. You flickered back and forth from the buds to his features, a small grin slowly forming on your lips.
"What is this for? "
He handed over the bouquet. "For opening night. Every member gets one. "
You shook your head, inhaling the petals' sweet scent. "No, they don't. I would've heard Cassandra's thoughts from here. " At his frozen expression, you explained. "Cassandra was our resident botanist, she's always loved plants. " You smiled fondly at the memories from your time with your coven.
Armand watched your eyes go misty before you asked. "Why are you giving these to me, Armand? "
"I wanted to stave off your sadness. At least for a moment. Similar to Cassandra, your melancholy has a way of traveling far. " You were stunned at the thought of your loneliness making its way all the way to Armand.
"Thank you. It wasn't my intention to make my self pity so..permeable. " You smiled, but one that didn't quite reach your eyes. His hand found your own.
"The troupe has been very curious about you. Would you like to finally meet them? "
"He won't be there, will he? "
"Ever since his unfortunate decision and subsequent consequence, Santiago has made the choice to step away from the spotlight for this particular play. Missy has taken over for him in the meantime. "
You hooked your arm with his, cradling the bouquet in the crook of your arm. "Missy? Oh God, I'm so sorry for the diva you've had to deal with. "
Armand simply laughed. "Don't be, we have the expertise. She's actually quite the actress, you know. "
"Oh, believe me, I know. " You smiled once more, and it felt like the first real one you've made in a while.
author's note: hello! :D i am so sorry for the sudden disappearance, idk wth happened, but i hope ya'll enjoyed reading!! i hope to continue working on my other wips, but we'll see :') depression is really doing me in, but i'm doing much much better <3 (also, the scene with the figure was inspired by Obsession, in case anyone was wondering)
yes, i am okay!! i really do apologize for that sudden post, but my parents were kinda close to finding out abt this blog and i really didn't want them to find out! sorry again for worrying anybody, i am completely safe and fine, it was just a close call!!
Hi so this blog has become compromised uhh I’m deleting tumblr (hopefully it won’t delete my account but I’m not deleting my account dw!!) if you don’t hear from me in like 24 hours assume this blog has been abandoned I love you all please don’t worry I am safe I am just a little paranoid!!
"You simply cannot trust Louis, he's a completely unreliable narrator and every single thing he ever said should be put to question! It's so good that we finally have Lestat's version, which is obviously the only true one - so good to finally have a reliable narrator!"
hi!! i hope you’re doing well, i just saw your recent post. don’t be afraid of taking a break if you need it!
hello!! you’re very sweet, thank you for checking in, these asks mean the world to me (kinda teared up reading this ask haha!) ive been on a slight break bc of the depression and burnout, but im taking it day by day!! thanks again for this ask, i hope to be back to writing when the time is right for me!!! i also hope you are doing well!!!! <3333
hello!!! i miss you all too! i apologize for my sudden absence on this blog, i really didn't mean to :( i'm not sure why or how, but i have suddenly been hit with the most violent bout of depression i have ever experienced in my life T.T i hope to return sometime soon, but thank you for this ask, i appreciate every single one of you guys <333
Hello! I would like to request armand x fae!reader :)
this was a very fun one to write!!
note: a little short my apologies :(, fae!reader is a menace, armand is STRESSING, usual unbalanced power dynamics (but not in armand's favor for once)
Armand was old enough to know that there was proof of the supernatural. Outside of the obvious, he had heard whispers of witches and other beings the likes of which no mortal had a chance of surviving.
So, to hear of fairies possibly being real should have come as no surprise.
"Is it true that those girls had tea parties with the fairies? "
"I heard Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself has gone and said that the photographs are real! Can you believe it? "
The chatter about the photographs taken by two young girls interacting with fairies was seemingly all England could talk about. Even from the other side of the pond in France, the news had crossed over and was the topic for many discussions.
A few of the members of the troupe had placed bets on whether the photographs turned out to be true or false. The pot was steadily growing more outlandish, but Armand played no part in stopping or engaging in the unruly banter of his fellow artisans.
For all he knew, the chance of fairies existing was about as likely as vampires.
—
On one of his late-night walks out in the Parisian nighttime, Armand found himself pondering the nature of his existence as a supernatural being. It was something he did not permit himself to think of often.
If mortals still dwell on silly matters such as fairies, what is to say that they will bother with further investigating the nature of other creatures? Vampires? The undead? Werewolves?
Armand shook his head. He would need to discuss with the coven what to do in case they would need to flee unexpectedly. They had been relatively safe staging as thespians, but after a handful of years passed, it would need to be considered.
He passed by a lamplight with a stranger standing underneath it.
What kind of author would busy himself with the talk of fairies, anyhow? Was true inspiration in such low supply that one had to turn to gossip for writing material?
Another lamplight he walked by had another stranger.
All the better it be something almost entirely fictional than truly supernatural. He shook his head at the thought of another vampiric inspired novel hitting the shelves. Despite their inaccuracies, the thought of humans becoming interested in vampires put him on edge.
This stranger standing underneath the light had their hand covering their mouth, shoulders lightly moving up and down. This gave him pause. Another sense that made him stop in his tracks was the stillness in the air, how the birds had ceased their singing and the riverbank no longer had a current.
Nearby passerby's had also paused their movements. It was as if Armand had used his Time gift on the entirety of the bank, and anyone who dared get too close.
"I was beginning to wonder when you'd notice that! " The stranger exclaimed suddenly. Armand unpocketed his hand, setting it alight and cradling the flames in his palm.
"What are you? What have you done to-" He stopped abruptly, at the feeling of the fire in his hand dying. No matter how strongly he willed it, the ability to create fire was taken from him. He felt terrifyingly vulnerable for the first time in centuries.
"Oh yeah, I don't want you to get comfortable with that whole coven leader schtick you got going on. " The thing joked. Joking! As if this whole matter was acceptable in any capacity.
"Don't worry, it's just like if you had frozen time. " Suddenly, the stranger materialized beside him. Armand turned away as quickly as possible, flying backwards to the top of the lamplight where they once stood.
"You don't want me close to you, that's fine! I'm fine with that, just, " They spoke both from their spot on the ground and then a voice whispered.
"Remember that you can't get away. I'm not going to let you. " He could hear the smile in their disembodied voice. "At least not yet. "
The stranger placed their hands in their pockets, and began rocking back and forth on their heels, eyes glued to his perched form. Despite his better judgment, a stray appreciation for their beauty crossed Armand's mind. His stomach churned at the way the stranger's head tilted and a grin breaking out. No doubt they had an inkling that he found them attractive.
"Mister, I have a question. " They raised their hand with faux curiosity.
His eyes narrowed as they continued. "How is it that a vampire as old as you is so, " They drawled out the 'oh' syllable. "Combative to the idea that other entities, perhaps magical, perhaps not, exist? "
Armand's lips remained sealed.
"Nothing? Really? Aw, what a shame. " They pouted but began pacing.
Armand settled crisscross on the lamplight. He shut his eyes, trying to settle into a relatively peaceful mindset.
"The old silent treatment, huh? Alright, two can play at that game! " Despite the fact that his eyes were closed, he could tell that they were sour at his refusal to engage.
Seconds passed, then minutes, perhaps even hours. Time became a trivial thing, something he could ignore in favor of preserving his dignity and pride.
"That's what you tell yourself but woo! Let me be the first to tell you, " A gust of wind washed over his face, and he knew they were directly in front of his face.
"You really have no idea what you're messing with. So, to protect yourself and that precious coven you love-er, well care about so much, I think it'd be a good idea to just indulge me. Won't you do that for me, Mister? " Armand felt their soft puffs of air as they spoke. They smelled of dried flowers and rosemary.
Armand opened his eyes, and as expected, they were eye to eye.
"Hi! "
"…"
"Okay, so now that I got your pretty eyes on me, let me try to get that mouth to move too. " They winked. Armand trained his face to remain fixed.
"Is it true you're one of the oldest vampires alive? You don't have to talk, but I'll know if you're lying. " A moment passed, and a glimmer of excitement shone in their eye.
"Woo-ee! So, not the oldest, but you're getting pretty close to half a millennia, is that right? " Armand shut his eyes once more, causing a whine to leave the stranger's lips.
"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that! " Armand turned his head, leading the entity to chase after his face. "I was just curious! I've never met a vampire before! " Their hands, comfortably warm, pressed onto his shoulder. An urge to lean into the warmth frightened him.
"Alright, I can tell you just wanna leave, so I'll just tell you one thing. " A hand cupped his ear, that smiling voice creeped into his mind once more.
"Beware the one who prances. Two liars are better than one, especially the one with roots deep within. Let the play occur, and watch your lives burn. "
A flurry of whispers and wind flew around him, carrying the stranger and their pause on time far away. Armand watched the babbling sounds of the river continue, the walking Parisians wander as if nothing occurred.
"Uh, sir! " A man called up to him. "Are you quite alright? "
Armand was shellshocked but had enough sense about him to nod. The man nodded in return, walking into the shadows whilst giving glances back.
There was no way to confirm, but Armand took precautionary measures in implementing protective artifacts around and outside the theatre. Whatever entity had him in their grasp would not enter his last space for himself.
He told himself the lingering smell of rosemary and fresh roses were because of the nearby flower stand.
author’s note: thank you so much for the anon that requested this! if anyone is wondering what photographs i was referencing in the beginning, it's the cottingley fairy pictures! basically, it was a few photos that a couple of English girls who were friends took that they 'photoshopped' to make it seem like they were playing with fairies! this request just reminded me of that hoax and since it happened around the same time as the Paris timeline, i thought why not add in a cute little reference to real history!!
hope ya'll enjoyed reading, and thank you for being so patient with me as i work on my wips :)
Hello! I would like to request armand x fae!reader :)
this was a very fun one to write!!
note: a little short my apologies :(, fae!reader is a menace, armand is STRESSING, usual unbalanced power dynamics (but not in armand's favor for once)
Armand was old enough to know that there was proof of the supernatural. Outside of the obvious, he had heard whispers of witches and other beings the likes of which no mortal had a chance of surviving.
So, to hear of fairies possibly being real should have come as no surprise.
"Is it true that those girls had tea parties with the fairies? "
"I heard Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself has gone and said that the photographs are real! Can you believe it? "
The chatter about the photographs taken by two young girls interacting with fairies was seemingly all England could talk about. Even from the other side of the pond in France, the news had crossed over and was the topic for many discussions.
A few of the members of the troupe had placed bets on whether the photographs turned out to be true or false. The pot was steadily growing more outlandish, but Armand played no part in stopping or engaging in the unruly banter of his fellow artisans.
For all he knew, the chance of fairies existing was about as likely as vampires.
—
On one of his late-night walks out in the Parisian nighttime, Armand found himself pondering the nature of his existence as a supernatural being. It was something he did not permit himself to think of often.
If mortals still dwell on silly matters such as fairies, what is to say that they will bother with further investigating the nature of other creatures? Vampires? The undead? Werewolves?
Armand shook his head. He would need to discuss with the coven what to do in case they would need to flee unexpectedly. They had been relatively safe staging as thespians, but after a handful of years passed, it would need to be considered.
He passed by a lamplight with a stranger standing underneath it.
What kind of author would busy himself with the talk of fairies, anyhow? Was true inspiration in such low supply that one had to turn to gossip for writing material?
Another lamplight he walked by had another stranger.
All the better it be something almost entirely fictional than truly supernatural. He shook his head at the thought of another vampiric inspired novel hitting the shelves. Despite their inaccuracies, the thought of humans becoming interested in vampires put him on edge.
This stranger standing underneath the light had their hand covering their mouth, shoulders lightly moving up and down. This gave him pause. Another sense that made him stop in his tracks was the stillness in the air, how the birds had ceased their singing and the riverbank no longer had a current.
Nearby passerby's had also paused their movements. It was as if Armand had used his Time gift on the entirety of the bank, and anyone who dared get too close.
"I was beginning to wonder when you'd notice that! " The stranger exclaimed suddenly. Armand unpocketed his hand, setting it alight and cradling the flames in his palm.
"What are you? What have you done to-" He stopped abruptly, at the feeling of the fire in his hand dying. No matter how strongly he willed it, the ability to create fire was taken from him. He felt terrifyingly vulnerable for the first time in centuries.
"Oh yeah, I don't want you to get comfortable with that whole coven leader schtick you got going on. " The thing joked. Joking! As if this whole matter was acceptable in any capacity.
"Don't worry, it's just like if you had frozen time. " Suddenly, the stranger materialized beside him. Armand turned away as quickly as possible, flying backwards to the top of the lamplight where they once stood.
"You don't want me close to you, that's fine! I'm fine with that, just, " They spoke both from their spot on the ground and then a voice whispered.
"Remember that you can't get away. I'm not going to let you. " He could hear the smile in their disembodied voice. "At least not yet. "
The stranger placed their hands in their pockets, and began rocking back and forth on their heels, eyes glued to his perched form. Despite his better judgment, a stray appreciation for their beauty crossed Armand's mind. His stomach churned at the way the stranger's head tilted and a grin breaking out. No doubt they had an inkling that he found them attractive.
"Mister, I have a question. " They raised their hand with faux curiosity.
His eyes narrowed as they continued. "How is it that a vampire as old as you is so, " They drawled out the 'oh' syllable. "Combative to the idea that other entities, perhaps magical, perhaps not, exist? "
Armand's lips remained sealed.
"Nothing? Really? Aw, what a shame. " They pouted but began pacing.
Armand settled crisscross on the lamplight. He shut his eyes, trying to settle into a relatively peaceful mindset.
"The old silent treatment, huh? Alright, two can play at that game! " Despite the fact that his eyes were closed, he could tell that they were sour at his refusal to engage.
Seconds passed, then minutes, perhaps even hours. Time became a trivial thing, something he could ignore in favor of preserving his dignity and pride.
"That's what you tell yourself but woo! Let me be the first to tell you, " A gust of wind washed over his face, and he knew they were directly in front of his face.
"You really have no idea what you're messing with. So, to protect yourself and that precious coven you love-er, well care about so much, I think it'd be a good idea to just indulge me. Won't you do that for me, Mister? " Armand felt their soft puffs of air as they spoke. They smelled of dried flowers and rosemary.
Armand opened his eyes, and as expected, they were eye to eye.
"Hi! "
"…"
"Okay, so now that I got your pretty eyes on me, let me try to get that mouth to move too. " They winked. Armand trained his face to remain fixed.
"Is it true you're one of the oldest vampires alive? You don't have to talk, but I'll know if you're lying. " A moment passed, and a glimmer of excitement shone in their eye.
"Woo-ee! So, not the oldest, but you're getting pretty close to half a millennia, is that right? " Armand shut his eyes once more, causing a whine to leave the stranger's lips.
"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that! " Armand turned his head, leading the entity to chase after his face. "I was just curious! I've never met a vampire before! " Their hands, comfortably warm, pressed onto his shoulder. An urge to lean into the warmth frightened him.
"Alright, I can tell you just wanna leave, so I'll just tell you one thing. " A hand cupped his ear, that smiling voice creeped into his mind once more.
"Beware the one who prances. Two liars are better than one, especially the one with roots deep within. Let the play occur, and watch your lives burn. "
A flurry of whispers and wind flew around him, carrying the stranger and their pause on time far away. Armand watched the babbling sounds of the river continue, the walking Parisians wander as if nothing occurred.
"Uh, sir! " A man called up to him. "Are you quite alright? "
Armand was shellshocked but had enough sense about him to nod. The man nodded in return, walking into the shadows whilst giving glances back.
There was no way to confirm, but Armand took precautionary measures in implementing protective artifacts around and outside the theatre. Whatever entity had him in their grasp would not enter his last space for himself.
He told himself the lingering smell of rosemary and fresh roses were because of the nearby flower stand.
author’s note: thank you so much for the anon that requested this! if anyone is wondering what photographs i was referencing in the beginning, it's the cottingley fairy pictures! basically, it was a few photos that a couple of English girls who were friends took that they 'photoshopped' to make it seem like they were playing with fairies! this request just reminded me of that hoax and since it happened around the same time as the Paris timeline, i thought why not add in a cute little reference to real history!!
hope ya'll enjoyed reading, and thank you for being so patient with me as i work on my wips :)
