#ofthinegrief

[lorelodge]

@ofthinegrief - cont.

[ Daddy Lou ] Doesn't sound familiar. Have you asked Lestat? [ Daddy Lou ] He's been itching for a Sephora spree. A new Moroccanoil signature fragrance just dropped. You know how he is.

[inkblxxd]

"i don't play fair, remember?"

open ended on the era!

Armand remembered everything. He held a dear recollection of all the instances when Louis preferred to change the rules of the game midway. Such moments redefined people, places, and their overall impressions of what future they expected for each other. Together. Sometimes, Armand's detailed plans, which he crafted over decades, were derailed by Louis's unpredictable mood. Armand tried to make him predictable. But this was Louis. Armand sighed as he settled back in a new leather chair he purchased for their Dubai apartment. He liked the way it felt beneath his touch. As he caressed the armrest, he averted his gaze from the other man. From a distance, it appeared that Armand deflated entirely and submitted to a proposed defeat. "Yes," he spoke quietly, drooping his head like a famished flower. "How could I forget?" When Armand looked up, his eyes told a different story: a flicker of danger drenched in layers of orange and yellow. Another wrong word, spoken too soon, would have birthed a different plan.

[chervbino]

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊… ( @ofthinegrief )

Silence fell over Armand, which was never a good sign. Nothing was louder than Armand’s silence. He wasn’t the type to yell, and when he does, he reaches the point of no return, as he did in San Francisco. Something inside of him died on that fateful day. Maybe part of his love for Louis died that day. And part of a longing for the fascinating boy started to develop. 

But here he was. With Louis. Because his love for Louis was still there. How much was he supposed to do until he would receive love in return? Armand thought about Paris, how he asked Louis if there was room in the other Vampire’s heart for him. And maybe he should’ve read the signs that there were none.

He lied, making things up, altering memories, and for what? He even saved Louis from the sun. For what? For his own benefit. For his own fear of abandonment. And Louis? He knew all of that, he knew, and he used this knowledge against Armand. For some reason, Louis turned even more into Lestat. As much as Armand tried to ignore it, he saw it in those green eyes he used to love so much.

Armand didn’t blink, just like back then when they argued in San Francisco, Armand only gave Louis that half-blank, half-apocalyptic stare. And once more, he let Louis come into his space without fighting back. Pathetically, Armand never fought back when it came to Louis. He never laid his hand on the younger Vampire. The most violent act Armand performed on Louis was probably pushing him away from Daniel. But did that make up for the verbal violence he inflicted on Louis?

“Perhaps…”

Was that the punishment for the things he said about Claudia? For the things he said about Lestat? No, everything that happened, the entire argument in San Francisco, was based on Louis’ foolishness in consuming foul blood. The blood of that fascinating boy.

“But what does it say about you, Louis? You are still here, with me. You are still here even though you were free to leave. What does that say…about you?”

And suddenly, Armand reached his hand out, grabbing the side of Louis’ neck with much more force than he used in the past. It wasn’t enough force that Louis couldn’t end it; Armand would never use his entire strength on his companion.

“You love me, Louis. And this is the only way you can show your love. I understand. I don’t blame you. Lestat broke you. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault, Louis. You just cannot accept my love yet. It takes time, I understand.”

Armand stayed calm, his voice monotone, soothing, and yet there was a little flare in his eyes, taunting, daring like the silence before a rising storm.

[chervbino]

“Tell me why you always come back.” and/or “Push me one more time and see what breaks first—me or you.”

DARK TOXIC SHIPS ( @ofthinegrief )

There had been a day, way back when, Armand found Louis not just stunningly handsome but also complex and fascinating. The humanity surrounding him, the compassion in his eyes, such a complex Vampire with such a strong personality, unlike all the others Armand ever met… well, almost. 

Tell me why you always come back.

A question Armand started to ask himself as well. What made him cling to Louis like that? Was it nostalgia? Was it despair? Was it his fear of loneliness? Or was it simply the kind of masochism that has always been part of his life, even back to the days when Amadeo was still alive? Oh, Armand hated even thinking about Amadeo.

Eerie silence surrounded Armand while the blank stare focused on the handsome face he used to love so dearly. The face he wanted to destroy and kiss at the same time. He wanted Louis to suffer; he wanted Louis to love him again.

One step closer. Pause. One more step. Pause.

Apocalypse flared up in those amber-colored eyes. Should he destroy Louis once and for all? Would it destroy Lestat as well? Ah, or would it destroy himself? Was there still love for Louis? He wondered. Or was it Daniel’s friendship with Louis that held him back from taking the last step?

Push me one more time and see what breaks first – me or you.

“Ah,” with a blink, the blank stare was gone, replaced by the facade Armand loved to show so often: the good saint, the nice guy who’d manipulate you with kindness and love. “Is my presence so disturbing? Oh, Louis, are you scared of me suddenly? Don’t you remember what I told you? I won’t harm you. Have I ever? Louis? Have I ever harmed you?”

[corvidamned]

@ofthinegrief | continued There's so many characters about on this street. The lady of the evening and her john, the drunkards, and the salesman sweeping shop before close. The writers, and the artists, and the tourists. Of which, she considers herself the latter, people watching with a crisp folded map in hand. Her fangs border on emerging, as she considers the pickpocket or the cabby off the clock. From purchasing flower seeds, her attention is drawn to the air and the swagger of new money. She swings and hits a strike, and remembers the laws of man. "It is a pleasant night, sir." She adds, sharply. She's not done with him, and he's been most rude, as if he must be getting home to someone. Yet the cut of his suit and the glimmer of his cane suggest, perhaps there's no one except the work that's never done. "And I have no board." She looks past him, then right through him with such warm brown eyes, lit by the street lamplight, one could almost mistake them for red. With his free will still intact, she dares him to reject her again. There's no one worth their word watching, so why does he still perform? "If you could point me to the nearest hotel, I'll get out of your hair."

[brightreporterwithapointofview]

i'd love to write if you are interested!

I would absolutely be interested! Let me know if you’d like to plot or feel free to just send me a meme!

[savagegardenfleurs]

i would love to write with you!

@ofthinegrief

// you did the easy part for me! Yay! Rare instance in which mun unlike 80% of every character I have ever written ever (I see you L.estat and your ego and simultaneous self loathing)(< in reference to social anxiety also generalized anxiety and the neurodivergent thing as a whole), but… 👉👈

I see this, and agree with you, personal life offline decided to hit me with a trolley granted a not entirely unexpected one but :(, once that passes which it will but has not yet and there is no point in minimizing it or attempting emotional repression, etc, but, once that passes and I have the headspace for plotting etc, if mutual assume you can message to just ‘yap’ about things if you want, I only write everything down twice extra clearly for reason of past experiences and directness never hurt as far as communication goes.