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she was wearing that short purple dress you favoured...
Can you draw Armand and Marius? In any way you like, I just like your style
Since I'm still taking chibi requests, here you are, other chibi Marius and Armand (Amadeo)
Thank you so much for liking my art💖💖
NEW FIC: RETROSPECT-Ch.1: Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori (Daniel)
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At the end of the world when the war has taken all it can and left the living more shattered than the dead beneath the soil, two broken souls find solace in each other. One an American soldier tormented by the friends he watched die in his arms. The other a French resistance fighter trying to find purpose in between the waves of doubt and grief. All things are clear in retrospect. And it is in this quiet practice of reflection that these men find comfort, genuine love, and the ability to live once again.
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I had no business going to college but my parents sent me anyway. Poor as we may have been, it was their way of getting me out of town. Getting me as far from them and the family reputation as possible.
Out of sight, out of mind.
And that’s what it felt like here, lying in bed drenched in my sweat and misery while Mr. Leiboweitz played his stand-up piano in the apartment off to the left of mine.
“Mazurka in A minor,” I had guessed correctly on yet another sleepless night. We’d ran into each other in the cramped winding stairway of the centuries old Parisian whitestone. “The song you’ve been practicing.”
“Say the full name, boy. There are many mazurka’s.”
Opus seventeen. Number four.
Light and flighty on the keys near the middle and toward the end where it truly took on the warmth of its Polish heritage. The unique folk sound carrying with it an anguished weight now. A somberness dancing on the keys alongside the jubilance whenever Arthur—Mr. Leiboweitz—played at the strike of eleven-thirty each night.
Rolling my head to the side, I stared out my bedroom window.
Bathed in the muffled melody that was both too loud yet, at times, inaudible.
The city outside was just waking up for rounds of rowdy drinking, sequestered midnight rendezvous, and late night matinees at the theater; shows that were tame enough to pass decency laws but too morbid or raunchy for the eyes of children.
It was June now.
1946.
A little over eighteen months now.
It was funny to think of it that way. Not a sort of funny that’d intentionally make you laugh, although I did, at times, laugh at how quickly time passed while I still felt frozen in time. It was the kind of “funny” you’d describe some odd happenstance like someone pulling you back from the curb just before a car came barrelling by at a full clip. Funny like “what are the odds?” kind of humor but in a sobering sort of way.
Eighteen months since the end of Hürtgen.
Nineteen since Sledge was blown sky high.
Zero since I’d gotten a decent night's rest.
Like I’d said, the mind was funny like that.
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Special thanks goes out to @caelumwingstar, @odi-et-amo-666, @certaindreamchopshop, and my good friend Brie for giving me the gentle nudge I needed to get the ball rolling on this. I've always had a morbid fascination with the history of WWII and what life was like immediately after the war so it was only a matter of time before I wrote something like this. Thank you for making that a "sooner" rather than a "later." lolol. Much love and thanks to you all. 💜
i feel like this is what book armand looked like when he was human
what do you guys think tho, how do you picture him when reading?
Ok so it's not a fic (I'm too mentally fucked for that kind of commitment unfortunately) but I do have a potential idea for a Devil's minion Human AU that I've kept in my notes & I thought it might finally be time to post it here. As usual with anything I post, I ask that you be nice & ignore any typos. I worn you, though, that despite going back and editing it to try to make it more understandable, I still write in what amounts to a kind of stream of consciousness so if it's difficult to understand I apologize. Hopefully, you are still able to enjoy what my brain has been able to churn out.
Now onto the plot -
It's the 70s and seventeen year old (well they don't actually know that for sure but that is how old the boy thinks he is so that's what they'll have to go with) Armand is rescued when the cult his in is shut down.
19 year old Daniel is the journalist (though, as one of the youngest on the paper, his treated more like a journalist's assistant), picked to interview him.
With his sparce clipped words (expressed to Daniel through a translator), lack of any opinions & seeming disintrest in everything that had happened to him, Daniel doesn't truthfully feel much for the kid. Sure he's a victim. It's pretty hard to ignore the practically medieval clothes, gaunt figure, greasy hair (he'd venitmently refused use of the bathing facilities when offered), cold eyes & the bags underneath them. Not to mention his clear confusion over most technology after a certain decade. He is also, however, creepy as shit, rude as hell &, at times, borderline threatening. So Daniel quickly drops his attempts at being nice rather early. Of course there were times compassion got him the answers he needed but there was something to be said for annoying the information out of someone. It was certainly more fun & something that came far more naturally to him.
He writes the article, along with serval of his colleges, all given the same assignment just interviewing the different cult members (the older journalist getting to meet the higher up members of course), & it goes well or maybe it doesn't. Maybe it barley intrests thier readers at all but who could blame them when his subject was so unsettling that he frankly reminded Daniel more of a bug than a boy & non of the unpleasantness actually occurred on American soil. At least he actually got paid this time. Money was important for his growing habit, after all.
Years passed & Daniel soon forgot about Armand (though he did feel some pleasure over the arrest of the leader of the cult), distracted by bad breakups, chasing stories, sodomy in club bathrooms & numerous stints in rehab (thank fuck one of of his hookups - turned interviewies - turned friends with benefits - turned just a friend, was a rich art dealer).
Things quieten down. He makes the mistake of hoping. Alice doesn't pick up after his first attempt at an apology. He's mad at first then sad & then, after some time spent on other people's couches & even more spent in their beds, his almost proud of her for actually putting her foot down this time. He desperately wants to go for the needle but manages to stop himself in time. He throws his phone out the window instead. Louie says he's proud of him. He knows it's pathetic how nice it is to hear. When was the last time someone had said that to him? Said it & genuinely meant it? Certainly not his parents. Maybe Alice? Before she found out what being with a journalist was actually like. Then Louie's pretty but extremely irritating friend "that just happens to share my bed sometimes" scoffs & mutters something Daniel would know is an insult even without Louie elbowing the blonde but dosn't really do anything else to stand up for him & Daniel makes the smart choice to let it go for once instead of biting the French bastered like he wants to. So his not Louie's "best pal" anymore? Whatever. His never really been anyone's anything. He'd survive.
A few years pass like that.
Ex number 2 comes round to exchange leftover articles of their relationship (a time honoured break up tradition Daniel is all too familiar with at this point in his life). He thanks her like a man & waits for her to leave before getting black out drunk.
Louie & Frenchy break up & make up about 10 times a month. Daniel's stauchly stays on Loui's side, it's a princeble thing definitely nothing to do with how good the revenge sex is he insists, lying through his teeth (but well what else is new).
Lestat gives up acting, deciding music's where it's at now. Daniel makes sure to scoff extra loud at the news & then is forced to hide how impressed he is when the dick actually starts getting popular (the power old money & a pretty face will get you - Daniel thinks, not as bitter as he would have been a few years ago).
His bitterness is much more real when he is dragged into doing a documentary about the "Vampire's" first tour. There are ground rules from Louie, of course, too angry with Lestat right now + needing to deal with his cousin, aparenly wreaking haffic at her Catholic school to come on tour with them - 1. sex is fine as long as protection & caution are used (Daniel refrains from asking if that just goes for him or if Blondey's inability to keep it in his pants had finally robed Louie of the ability to care about things like groupies), 2. Only booze & cigarettes (now that one was definitely for Daniel but despite their many issues he did at least trust Lestat to keep his nose & veins clean after being the one to find him half dead in his bathtub after Alice angrily admitted to being glad she got an abortion during a paticularly bad argument) & 3. Any crimes committed will get no help fixing from him (Daniel dismisses this one completely as he knows that one patheic whine of 'Mon cher' would have Louie running).
The tour goes relatively well, considering the kind of people involved & louie & Lestat's relationship surprisingly makes it out still intact much to Daniel's suprise &, even weirder, his relief. Though a drunken make out on stage had made Daniel panic for a while that he would lose Louie's friendship forever (nah its ok I mean I don't...really want it to be a repeat thing but I don't really blame him....I know you don't see yourself like that but...you are rather kissable sometimes Daniel).
The documentary comes out. It actually does some good for Daniel's career. He genuinely thanks Louis and "reluctantly." thanks, Lestat. They celebrate & actually manage to not cause too much property damage, this time.
Louie & Lestat take in Louise's cousin Claudia after she's kicked out of her catholic girl's school for brutally beating up a kid from the local boy's school for harrasing her classmate who it turns out is her secret girlfriend (also french, can type be imbedded in DNA? Daniel wonders).
He laughs at the idea of those two taking care of a kid. He stops laughing when he realises just how much parenting (even a rather shitty attempt at it) eats into 'partying/hanging out with your friends' time.
He let's them be. Bassed off his few interactions with Claudia (+ what he knows of Louis's family before coming to San Francisco), the girl needs all the help she can get.
He uses the rare quiet to his advantage. Getting a pultizer wasn't exactly the intention. He'd just realised that there was a lot of shit he thought people ought to know that he didn't think they were being told. He would be lying if he said it didn't feel good to be recognised for his skill, though (even with the occasional death threat sent to his door).
Then a murder happens or....well attempted murder (the guy wasn't dead yet after all).
Well-to-do man in his mid-30s living off dear mum & dad's inheritance with his young sister (a musical prodigy) & adopted brother but the attacker? Less was known about him other than he was Indian (which already had Daniel's fingers itching for a scoop, knowing how quick police often were to manipulate such incidentieces).
Apparently, he goes by Amedao (no last name given so far). Said it was in defence of the kids. That he'd heard screaming. That he'd apparently heard a lot of things coming from that apartment. The other neighbours were just too selfish or cowardly to do anything about it. Living in New York for a few years now Daniel dosn't find that surprising, hell even in Modesto people seemed experts at ignoring how much his dad yelled in the evening, how quickly his mum could twist herself up into a panic or how often Daniel would come to school with a new suspiously placed bruise.
Amedao had stopped because the kids had asked him to (more likely begged Daniel thought). Amedao wasn't sorry even if the man did end up dying. It's what he deserved, but that the kids needed looking after & that a doctor (female!, You can't trust men no matter what schooling they've had! & shit Daniel couldn't really argue with that) needed to check over the children's injuries & the American law system needed to question the brother's insistance on home schooling.
Daniel, of course, is intrigued. While beating some guy, you've apparently never met before, almost to death for the sake of children you have no connection to dosn't exactly scream sane. Breaking down a door with an axe (where had he even gotten that? Daniel wonders) just because you thought a child might be suffering didn't sound like the behaviour of an irredeemable phyco.
Then he saw his face.
He was using a different name, so it took a second to fully hit. It had been a long time after all & the guy in front of him undoubtedly looked different. Hair shorter & cleaner than the last time he'd seen him & actually brushed this time. Skin free from dirt & dressed in modern clothing (nothing flashy but undoubtedly better than the tunic & trousers that had essentially been rags when he'd been found). Still thin but now looking more like a college student than a vagrant. In fact, he was so changed that Daniel would have probably never made the connection if it weren't for his eyes. Still ringed by dark circles (though slightly less pronounced than he remembers, the power of well apiled makeup rather than an actual improvement in the sleep department Daniel thinks sadly) but the same brown colour, so dark it was almost black yet able to look startling ember in the right light, thanks to those little flecks of gold hidden in his irises (he knows not from the image, too small to pick up that kind of detail, but from memory). The same half dead stare. Daniel privately wonders what he'd looked like when he'd been beating that guy to a pulp. Would his eyes have been ablaze with righteous fury or pure madness?
The journalist inside Daniel suddenly needs to find out.
Boy getting dressed, Venice, circa 1530
"Why aren’t they helping you?"
inpatient human armand from kittymand's au
Marius de Romanus Appreciation Week (2024)
Day 3 The Spring by S. Botticelli
Watercolors and black pigment liner pen
Translation: "Amadeo! What are you doing? Lower that cloth!"
Amadeo is modeling as Mercury for Riccardo while Marius supervisions them. But Amadeo has to tease Marius by slowly raising his cloth and joke with Riccardo, who's blushing 🤭
