#armand is there briefly

[desertfangs]

The Prime Minister's Assistant Marius/Daniel - Explicit - 4224 words

This is something I started writing an eternity ago and then I got distracted with other projects and forgot about it. But I've been thinking a lot about Court lately and also how sexy Marius is in a suit (and a position of authority) and so I decided to finish this.

It's Court Shenanigans at their finest. Armand leaves to spend a few weeks in Paris with Louis, so Daniel is going to spend that time helping Marius out around Court. It doesn't take long for work to turn into... more fun activities.

Very short excerpt:

Daniel arrived at Marius’ office, a large room lined with heavy wooden shelves, and a red velvet chaise against the wall near the door. Marius’ desk was in the center and the surface was immaculate and clear of anything but the single file he had open in front of him and a small pile in a basket on the far corner. 

Marius sat behind the desk. Daniel looked him over appreciatively, a little heat creeping into his cheeks as he did. Marius was wearing an expertly tailored gray suit, his long blond hair cascading down around his face. He had angular, sharp features and a strong jaw. He was always handsome as hell but the suit was doing good things for him. It was almost sinful how good. It showed off his shoulders and the color was good on him. 

“Nice suit,” Daniel said. 

Marius looked down automatically and then back up. “Thank you. It was made by a tailor Armand recommended.”  

“You know, it would look even better being torn off of you.” Daniel waggled his eyebrows in a joking manner but if Marius wanted, he was more than happy to close the door and make a mess of this pristine office. 

“Very funny.” Marius frowned, but Daniel caught a spark of something in his eyes. “You look quite dashing yourself. Did Armand pick your tie? It brings out your eyes.” 

“Yeah,” Daniel said, not bothering to mention that Armand had picked the whole outfit. He dropped into one of the chairs in front of Marius’ desk. “So, what do you need me to do, Mr. Prime Minister?” 

Marius got up. Daniel admired the way the suit moved on him as he pulled down a binder from a shelf and handed it to him. “These are the newest arrivals at Court. We need to get them identification documents which can be set up in the records office.”

“There’s a records office?” Daniel whistled. “You really have thought of everything.”

[Read on AO3]

[mirrorhouse]

every time i think about how armand as rashid is a kind of visual echo of how he looked as amadeo i want to explode

like... his big brown eyes... all his little expressions... his hair...

[userarmand]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE — 2.03 "No Pain"

[queenoftheimps]

OK so I know it's been a running joke that Eric Bogosian has been spoiling things during the entire press tour

but it is fucking HILARIOUS that MOST of the stuff he spoiled or hinted at HAPPENED IN THE LAST FIVE MINUTES OF THE FINALE

[clarasghosts]

“But I can’t leave,” she said, wondering where to find words to explain.

Interview with the Vampire (2022-present) / The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson (1959)

[chamaleonsoul]

Interview With The Vampire, season 2, episode 2: "Do You Know What It Means To Be Loved By Death?" (2024) // Ocean Vuong, "On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous."

[shippy-from-apocalypse]

Armand is operating on a Whole New Level of fucked upeness can you imagine having LESTAT look at you and go "YIKES 😬no thanks you're a freak and i'd rather avoid that kind of drama"

[brsb4hls]

I feel with the change the show made in regards to vampire intimacy an important aspect gets overlooked.

First off, Anne Rice's book vampires do not have sex. They can't. (Which makes sense, I mean if you're dead, how do you get blood to flow down there).

The sex is basically the blood sharing.

(Common vampire theme, the whole thing is a metaphor for sex mostly).

So vampires drinking from each other is peak intimacy.

The full frontal is a nice added bonus and now that the show established it I admit I do miss it (we're pretty tame right now), but it's not the main indicator of a couple's bond.

So when Louis casually drank from Rashid! Armand in front of Daniel they might as well have fucked right on the table.

Just wanted to point that out.

Also in regards to devil's minion:

I do hope for a lot, but am not sure how far the show will go. But if known drug addict Daniel Molloy would only get one drop of Armand's blood I'd be ecstatic.

Book! Daniel carrying around a vial of Arman's blood around his neck was always my fave book trope.

[radiocurrency]

I just tried to write Daniel Molloy having Straight™️ thoughts about a women briefly just to push the plot along and immediately gave myself the ick.

That probably means nothing at all.

[rainbowcarousels]

We were talking today about how Daniel and Armand seperated and how it took it's toll on them. Which inevitably led to talking about Armand's 'death' in MtD and...well, this is just pure angst.

It was also done in about ninety minutes flat so it's bound to be messy. I'll clean it up later.

Burnt Out

There’s a set of lights in the window across the way. 

The pattern changes every few minutes, it’s on some kind of timer and Daniel thinks he can anticipate what’s coming. A three second blink, then change, then two together, the fade, the change which alternates between a blue and a green and he’s right about half the time when he stares at it.

They look like the lights off the coast of home, but if he starts to think of home, he’s pretty sure he’ll scream and that would draw attention to him. They’re not supposed to do that. The older ones keep the younger in line that way, wiping out the ones who can’t keep to the established order. 

It used to be safe, but that was before. That was with Armand, and Armand can’t hear him anymore. Armand is somewhere else. Daniel was the one to leave, he knows that, but it was so hard to keep up with him now. Wasn’t it supposed to be easier now? It was easier years ago, when Armand would sigh put-upon that his errant fledgling liked to wander off and come with him. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The lights are functionally useless – they aren’t bright enough to illuminate the sidewalks or whatever else was outside. 

What was outside?

Surely he’d been outside before, he’d have to have been outside to come inside, so he must know. He just can’t remember and the thought is – 

The thought is – 

The lights go green this time, and not blue like he expected.  An unexpected thrill of joy.

---

Look, it’s not like Daniel doesn’t know something’s wrong with him. 

At first, it was just that things were so vivid, so fantastic that he couldn’t drag himself away. Louis had described such things, he’d seen Armand sit and stare for hours and this – this was normal, wasn’t it? It was the noise that hurt. There were so many living, breathing minds and the noise made his hands shake. He’d tried to control it, but it had gotten worse and he knew part of it was because he’d left Armand. It felt like there was nothing tethering him anymore, like he may simply float away if he didn’t find something to hold him there.

The lights were pretty. They were predictable and if he sat far enough away, the buzzing noise didn’t bother him. 

It won’t last forever. It’ll pass, and when it passes, he can go home and he’ll be able to handle being around Armand again. Armand won’t look at him and see his mistake, the thing that tries his patience, the child who should never have been made at all, that’s what he’s thinking, Daniel knows it. If he could just stop the noise. If he could just focus his mind and not lose his shit, that would be fantastic. 

There’s a payphone outside. He could make a call and go home right now, but he realises with trembling fingers, he doesn’t remember the number.

This wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. Daniel doesn’t remember tearing the telephone booth apart, it’s not like him to be violent with it, that was never him but the phone booth is in ruins and there’s glass in his hands.

It’ll be gone tomorrow night, so he doesn’t bother with it.

---

Hunger drives him away from the lights, so he ventures out. Drinks three, because he doesn’t know when he’ll remember to feed again.

Doesn’t remember what he did with the bodies. Fuck, that’s going to get him in trouble. He’s supposed to deal with that. 

He doesn’t want to deal with it. He just wants to watch the lights, but there’s a lecture from Marius on the horizon if he starts leaving bodies around. He’s good at those. Maybe that’s where Armand went.

The reflection of the lights dance across his window, soothing in how predictable they are. 

---

One of the bulbs has gone out and the sudden absence of it makes Daniel’s entire skin crawl. 

It’s thrown the whole pattern off. He can’t sit and watch them anymore, so he takes to pacing back and forth, back and forth until he forgets about the bulb, looking out at the lights and it hits him with a fresh wave of grief over it’s burnt out darkness. It feels like he’s going to drown without it, he can’t breathe which is ridiculous, he’s a vampire, he doesn’t need to breathe.

Daniel laughs and the sound is deafening.

 He’ll get used to the new pattern. He will. He can do this, because if he doesn’t, if he stops and thinks about it, then…

It’s just one little light. How can the loss of one little light impact everything so badly? But it’s black and burnt and broken and –

 ”Bear witness, this sinner dies for Him!" The light, the blinding light he’d left behind, swallows the voice and Lestat’s screaming Armand’s name, it’s so hard that it forces Daniel to his knees, he can’t be, he can’t he can’t he can’t

he can’t…

---

Daniel.

There’s been something pulling at his mind for days – nights – now, but this is so much louder. It’s the same voice, but the noise of it, shit, he’s going to throw up, can vampires throw up?

Daniel?

Maybe he should find somewhere dark to go to sleep for a while, that’s what Lestat had done when he felt broken, wasn’t it? But if he did that, he was going to be alone with his –

(”Armand!” The smell of the burning, the echoing anguish, and it’s screaming inside his skull. Maybe it’s Lestat but it sounds more like his own voice somehow.)

“Daniel, look at me.” 

Daniel’s not so far gone that he doesn’t know that he should probably jump, because he doesn’t know when Marius got there and he really, really doesn’t like the look he’s giving him. He’s seen that look before, on the plane, in the garden full of stars. Distantly, he thinks that’s probably a bad sign and he opens his mouth to tell Marius that he knows that. He’s not crazy, he’s just – he just has to get this under control.

Instead, he hears himself tell Marius that the lights are broken.

Marius looks at him for a long moment, before turning to look at the reflection of the broken lights and merely nods. “Can you stand?”

What kind of question is that? Of course he can stand. Except…he can’t. Shit, he feels so weak, when did that happen?

I could feel your hunger streets away, comes Marius’ voice in his head. But you can’t go out like that, so let’s get you into some clean clothes.

These clothes are clean. No, they’re not. There’s two lines of red blood streaming down his shirt, splodges of it on his jeans and shoes. They’re brown, as if they’ve been through mud but he doesn’t know when he did that.

“I don’t know where my clothes are,” Daniel’s voice is hoarse, and he realises he can’t remember the last time he spoke aloud to anyone. He winces at the sound of it, that desire to curl up and watch the lights hitting him again. He doesn’t want to listen to the sound of his own voice. Who wants to sit and listen to a headcase like that?

There’s something – blood! It’s rich and thick and god, he hasn’t felt this desperate for it in so long. He’s drinking greedily, he knows, and he shouldn’t, he has to stop, that’s part of those rules too, don’t circle the drain.

I’m happy you remember that, Marius’ voice came again. Don’t worry for me, just take what you need and we’ll go.

It was Marius’s wrist he was cradling. Of course it was, he hadn’t gone anywhere, had he? But… 

Go?

You left a trail here, Marius’ voice continues. The wound is already shut, and he’s still hungry. I’ve fixed it, but you can’t stay.

But the lights, Daniel tries to communicate.

There are lights at my home, Marius’ voice in his head has changed, it’s softer somehow. He can feel his hand brushing through his hair and shit, when was the last time he’d touched someone he hadn’t killed? Weeks? Months? More? There’s lots of things there, you remember, don’t you?

Daniel tries to picture it, but he can’t. There’s a panic rising in him but there’s Marius’ voie again.

It’ll come back to you, Marius’ voice continues as Daniel’s pulled to his feet. He doesn’t sway anymore. It’ll just take some time.

It’s not exactly going home, but it’s close enough that Daniel doesn’t put up a fight about it. As long as he has something to think about, then he’ll be alright. It’ll just take time, and that’s what he has now, isn’t it?

Nothing but time.

[fagulaa]

As a guy with a dissociative disorder [not the one ur thinking of], Armand goes Crazy. like yeah dude, thats exactly what its like! Assad Zaman, when i fucking get you

[winonaryder1897]

where were yall when i was iwtv 1994 posting pre 2022. it was only me and a few brave soldiers then.

[queenoftheimps]

Genuinely trying to figure out if Daniel's conversation with Justin Kirk is taking place outside the penthouse (meaning Daniel is, at some point, able to escape without getting vamp'ed) -- or if this is in the penthouse and Justin Kirk is someone Louis/Armand would allow to visit.

It might be the former (it looks like there's two other people in the background, who don't look like Armand/Louis) -- but him saying "I want to get out alive" feels odd if he's already made it out. If it's the latter, that raises the question of who, exactly, would be allowed in to talk to Daniel, because I have THEORIES.

[spaceandfiction]

The Vampire Lestat is really just about some edge lord atheist falling in love with each new bitch he meets

[lady-phasma]

Captivated

The Vampire Armand x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some biting, mention of blood, smut, spit as lube, penetration but no gender mentioned.

Summary: You decide to go home with Armand, PWP, 3.1k words

a/n: human reader (not a vampire) but not described (inclusive!reader), no specified location, probably not Dubai, modern but no time stated however I decided vampires have announced themselves (like late TVC book canon), I headcanon Armand as a sub but to make this an inclusive gn reader he’s a bit of a switch.

Special thanks to the amazing @aemondsbabe for all the help listening to ideas and letting me fangirl!

You followed him down the hallway. The apartment building was modern and austere. Your footsteps echoed off the bare walls. The liminal quality of the empty space at this early-late hour was unnerving and exhilarating. Everyone in the building asleep except the two of you. Armand walked slowly, but still a few steps ahead of you. He could feel your anxiety, but he could also feel your curiosity. It intrigued him.

Armand unlocked and opened the door, holding it for you to enter after he had stepped inside. The air was cool and made you shiver, compounding your exhilaration. A nagging part of your mind still wondered what you could possibly be thinking, accepting an offer to come back to a vampire’s home with him. When the door closed and locked behind you the sense of dread seemed to deepen momentarily. Then you felt Armand’s hand on your lower back. You exhaled. He stepped in front of you and his gentle smile and calm face soothed your trepidation. You pulled your eyes up from his lips to meet his gaze. His smile reached the corners of his eyes and made you feel… safe? Before you had time to decide if that was the feeling he spoke.

“Shall I make you a drink?” He moved away from you, sliding his hand from your back to your hip and then walking away. “I make a lovely martini.” His voice trailed behind him. You stepped out of your fear and walked toward him. He eyed the shape of your body under your clothes as you approached. He hadn’t intended to meet anyone tonight and was predominately a creature of habit, but you had approached him so confidently. It was difficult to dismiss you.

“I, um,” you cleared your throat. “No, thank you. I almost had too many at the bar. Maybe a glass of water, if you don’t mind that is.”

“Of course not,” he smiled at you again. That smile had drawn you across the bar to him, that and his presence. He commanded any room he was in by being the most mysterious yet unassuming person in it. It was easy to not notice him at first, but when you had looked closer you felt a magnetic pull. You only acted on it when he gave you that exact smile.

You looked around the large room, kitchen and living room open and uncluttered. Ice clinked in a glass behind you, water poured over it, not from the tap. Bottled water, of course. You smiled briefly. Before you could register the sound of his footsteps he was beside you. You took the glass he offered and sipped. Your mouth was dry, but not from thirst. You licked water from your lips and saw him watching. His eyes were the only unnerving part of him. They caught you off guard if you looked away from him for too long. But when he looked at you like that they were beguiling and you wondered what he was thinking. It was more than hunger. You both knew that.

You set your glass on the countertop and walked toward the plate glass window. The view was spectacular, expensive. You marveled at the city lights, pretending to be more interested in them than in Armand. You tried desperately to keep your nerves under control, but it was little use.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” You jumped a bit as he spoke. His voice was soft, but you hadn’t heard him approach this time. “I enjoy seeing the movement of humans around me. Thriving, suffering, toiling, never quite satisfied so they strive for more greatness. Cities have always enchanted me, that ambition is better seen nowhere else.”

“Do you have a favorite?” You turned to look at him. He stared out the window but he was no longer seeing.

“Yes,” he replied dreamily. “Venice. But not the Venice you will ever know. Venice was once the most beautiful place on earth for me.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “We didn’t come here to talk of Venice, did we?”

You swallowed dryly as he turned to look at you. There was a moment’s hesitation, Armand waiting, you deciding, then you stepped toward him and placed your hand on his waist. He smiled again, but this one didn’t reach his eyes. Moving with slow deliberation, he brushed his fingers across your cheek and down your neck. Your lips parted and his eyes flicked down, then back up to yours. His gravity was too strong, his allure too overwhelming. His fingers slid to the back of your neck and you leaned forward. Your lips barely touched his at first. Then he closed the distance. His fingers tightened on the back of your neck. A small moan escaped your mouth and you stopped the impulse to slide your hand to his back and pull his body against yours. Something about this man made you want to wait, be patient, savor him.

Instead you ran your tongue over his bottom lip as you kissed, begging for entrance. He allowed it. You felt one of his fangs and almost pulled back at the sensation. But when he moaned you crushed your lips against his, spurred on by his response to the faint taste of copper from the scratch on your tongue. Armand’s free hand flew to your hip, fingers digging in through your clothing as he kissed you back fiercely. He felt the stirrings of human desire begin after the taste of your blood. It was never as satisfying as drinking, but it was more than merely pleasant. He wanted as much from you as you were willing to give but he would not allow himself to rush. He was ancient and patient. But he could be insistent and he encouraged you with his hands, his mouth. The press of his tongue against yours, the coolness of his lips slowly warming from your heat, the way he clenched and unclenched his fingers on your skin, made the ache in your core begin to coil tighter like a spring. Then he slowly began to pull back from you. You opened your eyes, lightheaded from need.

With some hesitation, you raised your hand to his cheek, cupping it in your palm. Armand almost closed his eyes before you moved your hand to his jaw, his neck. Your fingers delved into his hair, tangling in the curls, and you tugged gently. He lifted his chin. You placed your mouth against the cool skin of his neck, feeling his pulse beneath your lips. You let your teeth graze him and he inhaled sharply. You pressed your teeth harder into the unyielding flesh. His hands pulled at you, finally molding your bodies together. The familiar longing tugged at Armand’s chest. He allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your teeth. Though they were harmless, impotent, he felt a rush from your mouth on his neck to the base of his spine. You fisted more of his dark curls in your fingers as you bit down. His hand trailed down your neck, your arm, your side. He had both his hands on your hips, kneading steadily. You moaned. His strength was obvious, but he had tempered it, restrained it. You weren’t sure if you wanted his restraint.

As you slid your mouth down his neck, letting your teeth drag against him, you moved your hand to the small of his back. When you rolled your hips against him that fantastic ache surged in you again. You lifted your head and exhaled. You looked at him as you pulled your fingers out of his hair and rested your hand on his shoulder. His eyes had a mournful quality for a moment, then his countenance shifted and he began to guide you backward to the couch. For only an instant he had been disappointed that you were human, that you could not finish what you had started. He knew you had seen it, but he pushed it aside, choosing to revel in your warmth and mortality. Your calves hit the cushions, but he didn’t let you sit yet. He released you from his grip and stepped back. He raised one eyebrow.

You felt your face go hot as understanding dawned. Slowly, you removed your shirt, watching Armand’s face. You toed off your shoes and slid your pants off. As you stood in front of him, naked, a tendril of anticipation swept from your chest to your core. He took you in with a quick glance. The need in his veins had finally settled at the base of his cock. He began to unbutton his shirt as he stepped closer to you. You slipped your hands inside his open shirt and gently pushed it off his shoulders while he unfastened his belt and trousers. He let your fingers rove over his chest and stomach as he finished undressing. But the moment he was done, before you could catch more than a glimpse of his sculpted form, he crashed into you. Still not using his full strength, he pushed you back onto the sofa. He didn’t let you fall, you glided back, feeling nearly weightless. He wouldn’t hurt you, but what he had thought might not happen with a human was suddenly overwhelming.

Armand’s skin was cool against yours, but it felt amazing. Your hands roamed eagerly over his body as he kissed your neck, your shoulder, your chest. You dug your fingers into his shoulder blades as he brushed his lips across your nipples. You could hear your heart pounding and fleetingly wondered what it might sound like to him. This thought was torn out of your mind when you felt his hand move between you. You groaned and bit your bottom lip as his fingers found the root of your arousal. The last few moments had passed so quickly that you had barely registered the increasing need you felt. But now your attention was focused on his fingers moving between your thighs, as well as the feeling of his cock, hard against your belly. His soft sighs were barely audible as he continued licking and kissing you. You ran your hand through his hair, drug your nails down his neck, and elicited a moan from him that vibrated through you. You pushed your hips against his hand and felt sudden, overwhelming urgency.

“Armand…” you said his name breathlessly.

“Yes?” The single word muffled by your skin against his mouth. You moaned quietly, summoning the courage to say it outright. You thought you felt him smile. Then his hand sped up and you fought the urge to beg. You could think of one thing and one thing only.

“Please,” there was a tinge of whininess in your voice, but only a little. You dropped your voice lower. “Please fuck me.”At this he looked up at you. His expressive face, curtained by his disheveled hair, fueled your need for him.

“As you wish,” he almost grinned.

When he moved his hand to your hip you felt disappointment tempered only by anticipation. You didn’t want him to stop. His touch was feather-light as he slid one hand behind your thigh. In the same fluid movement he sat up to kneel between your legs. Exhilaration rippled through your stomach. He held your gaze as he pursed his lips and slowly dripped spit into his upturned palm. You licked your lips and writhed involuntarily. Unhurried and languidly, he stroked his cock, his hand gliding easily along his length. Even in the dim light you could see the precum as he swiped his thumb across the tip. You seemed to lift your hips each time he slid his foreskin back. Armand watched you, enjoyed drawing out your need for a few more agonizing moments. He could be infinitely patient. You could not. Your human desire for him was as attractive to him as you, your body, your presence.

Armand’s eyes slowly moved down your body. It was excruciating. The wait was interminable. You wanted to put your hands on him again, to feel his skin on yours. You both watched as he moved his hand to you, fingers deftly finding their destination. You arched your back and your hands scrabbled to find purchase on the couch. A small smirk had crept onto his face. You barely noticed. He leaned forward and grazed the head of his cock between your legs. Your breath came in short pants. You desperately reached for him as he propped himself over you, one hand on the couch by your head, the other guiding himself into you.

Armand exhaled a soft grunt. You looked up at his face, caught his gaze just before he closed his eyes. He slid his hand across your hip and pulled your leg to his side. You almost held your breath as he hooked his arm behind your knee. He was focused entirely on the exquisite feeling of sliding into you. With preternatural control, he didn’t rush. You snaked a hand into his hair and pulled his mouth down onto yours. He quite enjoyed allowing you to move him around and your urgency was intoxicating. But he could be patient enough for you both.

“Oh god,” you moaned as you broke from the kiss. You didn’t open your eyes to look at him, all your senses were concentrated on how deep he was inside you. “You feel so good Armand. I… I want…”

“Yes, you want me to hurry,” he finished for you. He made a sound that was half amusement, half resignation. “Not yet.”

His slow strokes were intense, each one bringing him closer to being fully inside you. Your hands itched to grab his ass and pull his hips into yours, but it would have been futile. Instead, you tightened your hand in his hair and lifted your lips to his again. Your other hand stroked his chest and arm, his side, and up his back. As he slid into you again, his hips keeping a steady rhythm, you could barely kiss him, doing little more than holding your open mouth against his. You dropped your head back down and looked up at him. He was watching you. For the second time this night your face flooded with heat. You held his gaze and moved your hips in time with his., gauging his reaction. He knew better than to loose control with a human, but the captivating way you looked at him almost fractured his resolve. When his hips met yours again, he stopped and ground into you. A groan came from deep in your throat as you tilted your head back. Armand watched as your neck was bared to him, watched your pulse race. With more restraint than most, he kissed the hollow of your shoulder, moving up to the side of your neck. This slight motion pushed him deeper inside you. You panted and tried to roll your hips against him.

“Mm-mm,” he chastised, lips still pressed against your neck. Supporting himself on one hand, he slid the other between your bodies again. The first touch of his fingers was electrifying. Armand was enjoying your reactions immensely. Yes, you felt amazing around his cock, but bringing these sounds from your lips and these responses from your body did more to spur him on. His tempo increased in time with the movement of his hand. He kissed you higher up on your neck, lips passing over your ear, against your cheek. His long but quick strokes hit that spot, that delicious spot, that could bring you to the edge so easily. You could think of nothing but his cock and his hand. Even his mouth was nearly forgotten until he spoke.

“That’s it,” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek again. “You’re doing so very well.” You moaned beneath him, arching your back, trying to get there, but you didn’t quite know where there was. Then Armand paused, only for a beat, and thrust forward again, fully into you. Now he was relentless, not rough but quick, keeping metronomic time. Something you had never experienced with a human. He was controlled, determined, and truly enjoying himself. He felt you clench around him and groaned into your ear. You dug your fingers into any part of him you could find as the beginnings of your climax twisted at the point where he thrust into you so steadily, but so wonderfully.

“Cum for me,” he breathed. At first you weren’t sure you heard him, then his hand sped up and the crest of your building orgasm broke. You gasped his name, breathed curses into his dark, tangled curls, and gave into the overwhelming sensations. You tried to catch your breath, but Armand didn’t stop. He pushed through your orgasm, drawing it out until he felt your body begin to relax. You shuddered as he withdrew his hand. You were too far gone, too blissful, to notice at first that he had begun moving a bit faster. The sound of his skin against yours was lewd and fantastic. You were sure you couldn’t stand this overstimulation any longer when you felt his hips falter, slow, then stop. Armand groaned and buried his face in your neck as he slid his arm from under your leg.

Your hip felt like molten lead as you lowered your leg. You had a brief moment of near-delirium when you thought that such human problems would be long behind Armand now. You stifled your laughter with a deep breath. He raised his head to look at you. You smiled and caressed his cheek. Somehow he looked younger, more at peace for a moment. He pulled back slightly and you flinched at the renewed stimulation. You prepared yourself for the inevitable. Cautiously, watching as he did so, he pulled out and guided your leg to one side. As he lay down on the couch, you rolled over to make room for him. He pressed himself against the back of the sofa and pulled you into him. His arm was warm and heavy draped around your chest.

Armand sighed as you nestled your ass against him. He curled an arm under his head to make room for you and inhaled deeply. You scent was powerful now and it reminded him of your fragility all of a sudden. He cherished that even after all these years. That a human could draw such experiences from him continued to surprise him. He drew you slightly closer to his chest. You had no thoughts at all except the feeling of his body against your back, his arm around you. You wanted to say something, anything, but words would not come. You lifted his hand to your mouth, kissed it, then laid it back across your chest.

Masterlist

[dykesynthezoid]

Yes yes there’s the Lying and the Betrayal and the Crimes etc but man Armand just appears so. Desperate this episode. And he’s always desperate obviously but it was so clear, so evident, that neediness, in 2x06. That longing. And yes he’s doing something terrible to Louis but god how Louis’s withholding hurts him. Armand being so desperate for every drop of attention, affection, kindness. Louis distracting him with a kiss and Armand responding like he’s dying of thirst. The scene in the restaurant. Armand, briefly, shining under that small bit of love, even knowing he’s about to ruin it all. How can a vampire even be that hungry. How can a vampire even be that unable to see himself as a desiring subject rather than something things happen to. He wants so much and yet he literally doesn’t know how to wield that desire. I’m gonna die fr