thinking about the horrific implications of Gabriella loudly fucking Lestat's body double while he actively re-lives his traumatic memories of being turned and assault by a monster who only preyed on men that looked exactly like him
it is soso frustrating that amc seems to have been a Lot stricter on this season and what they were allowed to get away with, like, as much as I am going to withhold total judgment until the end of the season, and a lot of what we've got so far Is good, the biggest loss is absolutely gabi's plot around gender. like, its something that frames her hatred of being a mother and wife, and her connection with lestat, and her love of becoming a vampire.
lestat and gabrielles dynamic is founded on the fact that they want to become one another; lestat wants his mother's beauty, gabrielle wants lestats masculinity, and they view each other as extentions of themselves, especially in the face of their family. and gabrielle takes to vampirism like water because it gives her the agency to be anything she wants, anything outside of societal expectations or wishes, which includes being masculine and looking like a young man when they are out. idk it just sucks that instead of that we're only getting gabis worst sides and instead of what makes her a compelling vampire, shes pushed more in the girlboss milf-y end of the presentation spectrum :/
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 :)
see inside me there are two wolves: one of them knows that it’s a bit disheartening that claudia’s rape and torture is being used as a device to further the character development of two men especially two men who also abused her and failed her in life. and the other wolf in me is a petty bitch who wants to watch them tear bruce apart limb from limb
