#blood communion spoilers

[v-e-l-v-e-t-g-o-l-d-m-i-n-e]

A Vile Hunger for Your Hammering Heart (1x05) / Blood Communion (Anne Rice) / The Thing Lay Still (1x07)  

[nalyra-dreaming]

Prince Lestat arc - a rundown

I offered to write a bit of a rundown on the last books (for @amc-iwtv) , but mostly the last three, with a few references.

Book spoilers ahead!

First off: You can find pretty good summaries/reviews here: Prince Lestat, Prince Lestat and the Realm of Atlantis, and Blood Communion

Rest under the cut :)

The books are… a lot.

Pun intended.

They’re all narrated (mostly) by Lestat, but there are various chapters by other characters as well.

This rundown isn’t to review them, or comment too much on the plot (or its holes), but towards the important pieces in regards to the show. Imho, obviously.

In Prince Lestat - Lestat is wandering, while Louis is with Armand at Trinity Gate. He is somewhat jaded, removed.

There’s a lot of reasons, but in order to understand the situation (especially in respect to the endgame settings), there’s just a few things more I have to point out:

In Memnoch the Devil Lestat goes heads to head with a spirit claiming to be the Devil. Including going to Heaven and Hell, losing an eye trying to get the Veil of Veronica, later getting that eye back from Maharet etc. He falls into a… coma, in a church. Likened to Christ in various comments (!). Louis (and a few others) tend to him. Armand is so shaken by it he commits (tries to commit, it’s retconned later) suicide. Lestat wakes (at the end of The Vampire Armand, after Armand has drunk from him and has seen the spirit), listens to some music, and then goes back to dozing, while listening to music. And THAT (second) coma, or better mental absence, is very hard on Louis. Enter… Merrick. Only Louis and David are left, caring for the dozing Lestat in the flat at Rue Royale (and in the church, he moves around a bit, back and forth). Louis becomes obsessed with reminiscing, with trying to make his own peace with their past, and Claudia. He wants to raise Claudia’s spirit. David decides to help him. Merrick tricks them into turning her. And they do raise a spirit. Using torn-out pages of Claudia’s diary, in which she makes it very clear that she hated them both and used Louis to kill Lestat. Raising a spirit that claims to be Claudia. It’s quite the harsh encounter. And it drives Louis to suicide.

He puts his coffin into the courtyard of Rue Royale (there, where he fell to in the show(!)), and lets the sun burn him during the day. Asking David to scatter his ashes.

Only… he’s not ashes. He’s a burned husk, still firm. Too old already to be burnt to cinders during one day. And David doesn’t know what to do. And then… Lestat wakes up, and returns. He wants to know if Louis wants to return… but neither Merrick nor David can tell him.

And so Lestat makes the decision and uses his blood, and theirs, to bring Louis back, knowing full well that if he does this - then simple "suicide“ will be out of the question for Louis in the future. Essentially making Louis -almost- as strong as him.

And then… the Talamasca make them leave Rue Royale.

And Lestat lets the flood of new vampires drive him from New Orleans. Wanders. Louis goes to New York, to Armand.

These events are important for the last books (and the show) imho, because their relationship changes fundamentally with this attempted suicide.

Before, Louis asked for it (in the book, he changed his mind(!), but Lestat turned him anyways, something which always added to the resentment there.).

In the show, Lestat only turns him after clear consent. He gives him a choice.

There, at that burned husk, Lestat tries to find Louis’ consent through Merrick, and David, but fails.

"Help me, Merrick. Help me, David!" he called out. "What I've begun I'll pay for, but do not let it fail. I need you now."

Lestat knows Louis might be far from happy being resurrected. And, accepting the possible repercussions, he does it anyways. This time, Lestat does not give him a choice.

And Louis… resents him for it. For a while. Silently. Privately.

It estranges them again.

(And they still haven’t found a way to communicate properly.)

So Lestat roams in Prince Lestat. Far and wide.

Several iPhones later (the book does address the difficulty of modern technology for vampires, and the fact that they’re always on the verge of being exposed, something which the show has taken up, too) he is finally called back to Paris by Jesse and David, in order to help them with the new threat that is burning the (rising numbers of ) vampires all over the globe. The Second Burning. (The First Burning was Akasha’s rampage in Queen of the Damned). Because the Voice, their enemy… the spirit which propels them, has awakened, come to consciousness, and it is spread too thin. Khayman and Roshmandes are behind the burnings (and a few others). The elders want Lestat to become their prince.

The finale happens in New York, at Trinity Gate, where Lestat takes the Sacred Core into himself.

Essentially making him the single most important vampire.

This is also the book where Lestat encounters our Doctor Fareed Bhansali (!) - and where said Fareed carries out experiments under the tutelage of the ancient Seth. Experiments, which make Lestat produce hormones and semen, has sex with a willing-for-once woman (in contrast to that rape in The tale of the Body Thief), and they then take that semen, without Lestat’s knowledge, and make… a mini-me, a clone of Lestat’s. His son, Viktor, who is raised by vampires.

And, this is also the book where we hear about Rose - Rose, a girl Lestat rescued at a very small age(!) and who he gave to a foster family, and visited regularly. This Rose didn’t quite put two and two together until she finds herself in danger, and is rescued by Louis(!), who not only knows about her, but also knows what she means to Lestat. And goes to rescue her in Lestat’s stead. Bringing her with the Doctor’s help to Trinity Gate.

Where Viktor is also brought to. Yes, they fall in love immediately. Yes, they get married and turned. By Pandora, Marius and Lestat.

Aaaand this is also the book where Lestat force-feeds on David, and also makes fun of that:

“Now, that’s an idea,” I said, kissing him quickly though he stared forward and continued to ignore me. “If I was ‘King of the Vampires,’ I’d make it the right of every maker to drink from his fedgling anytime he chose. Maybe it would be good to be king. Didn’t Mel Brooks say, ‘It’s good to be the king’?”

Nice one. -.-

Ghosts are properly introduced in this book, too - even the ghost of Magnus, solidified, and in physical appearance. And yes, that Magnus, even though Lestat did scatter the ashes.

This is also the book where Lestat chops off Roshmandes’ hand… and then his whole arm for effect. He had an axe made for that very purpose.

And this is his mind after: "I stood up and turned and faced the others. I wondered how many of them wanted me to be their leader now. Well, I had given them a gruesome taste of what I was capable of, acts that were far more difficult to perform for anyone with a drop of humanity in him than simply blasting others away with invisible force or exterminating heat. I’d given them a really good taste of what sort of ruler I might be."

"I’d given them a really good taste of what sort of ruler I might be."

That sentence always struck me as quite the statement. The sort of ruler who chops off limbs, for effect. The sort of ruler laughing in the face of his adversary.

The sort of ruler never backing down.

But also the sort of ruler who wouldn’t heed the other’s call for Roshmandes’ death because he had given his word. (This is very interesting in regards to Antoine(tte) bc he gave his word there as well. Lestat keeps his promises.)

At the end of the book Lestat decides to return to his roots, his castle, which he had started to have rebuilt. And Louis makes up his mind to join him there, eventually.

Lestat now has to go to coffin early, lest he burn the young ones. He has to lie there, and wait, till his ancient vampire bodyguards deem it safe for him to get out.

And Louis hesitates, pondering the fates worse a vampiric existence, after having encountered ghosts. It’s not said explicitly, but it’s in his later address, which I’ll get to in the next book.

Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis continues directly from the previous novel.

Lestat dreams of the fall of a great city, and talks to Amel, the Sacred Core. He and Magnus make… peace, though it’s hard-won, as Lestat is still very much traumatized, 200+ years later. Roshmandes has been introduced to Derek… a being, who replicates from a part of himself if chopped off. And who doesn’t die, when drained (and his blood tastes good!!). Roshmandes is also very much pissed still, but Lestat is adamant that he has given his word and won’t have him killed, to the chagrin of the other vampire elders. They encounter others like Derek, and Kapetria, who is their leader, tells the story of Atalantaya (Atlantis) and the aliens(!) that made them. Of Amel, who created that weird matter Luracastria, which is what vampires turn into more and more. And what Amel is made of, too. Amel, in Lestat, who is trying to gain agency, trying to control Lestat. Trying to control his body, which makes the other vampires nervous. Who loves to look at Louis.

Who drives Lestat finally to go to New Orleans, and get Louis.

And where these quotes happen (the first one is what I meant with Louis pondering beforehand - he says here he tormented Lestat. Made him pay. Thinking Lestat would lose interest also speaks volumes imho.)

“I know what you need,” he said. “You need one person who is always on your side. Well, I’m ready to be that one now. I don’t know why I tormented you, made you pay for asking, made you come all this way. I always knew I was going to come. Maybe I thought you’d lose interest because I never really understood why you wanted me in the first place. But you’re not losing interest, not even with the whole Court, and so I’ll come. And when you tire of me and want me gone, I’ll hate you, of course.” “Trust me,” I whispered. He was cutting me to the heart and making me happy, and this was pain. “I do,” he said.

And:

“I’ll come if you want me. I’ll come and I’ll stay and I’ll be your companion if you want. I don’t know why you want this or how long you’ll want it, or what it’s going to be like, being with you and watching all your antics up close, and trying to be of help and not knowing how to be of help, but I’ll come. I’m tired of fighting it; I give up; I’ll come.” I couldn’t believe I’d heard right. I stared at him as helplessly as I had in the hallway of the townhouse when I’d first seen him, trying to grasp what he had said. He leaned close to me, and he put his hand on my arm. “ ‘Wither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people’; and because I have no other god and never will, you shall be my god.”

(HIS GOD. Remember Armand’s little comment?^^)

Louis is with Lestat at the court after, trying to find his place. He is also the one to find a solution to the problem of Amel being stretched too "thin“ and connected to them, by remembering the silver cord (!). He proposes that either every vampire’s heart could be stopped - like his in Queen of the Damned when Akasha died, he is not connected anymore(!) - or Lestat’s can be stopped.

“You don’t need Gremt,” said Louis. “You have me. If you stop Lestat’s heart and every other blood drinker worldwide suffers it in one form or another, I won’t suffer it. I will be wholly conscious and able to restart Lestat’s heart. You just have to tell me how.”

And they do.

Louis closed the lid of my coffin and seated himself there. He was close enough to me that I could take his hand and I did.

And it works, the great disconnect from the spirit, for everyone, except Lestat.

The book ends with Lestat being captured by Roshmandes and brought to Kapetria, so she can cut open his head and remove Amel from him directly, finally dislodging him of the spirit as well. Lestat is awake during the day (for a while at least) here.

When he returns, he and Louis are closer than ever before, roaming through Paris. (They finally talk, yay^^)

Louis knew what I couldn’t confide, and he was respectful of it, and comforting and patient. Louis never failed me.

On a meta level this is very interesting, because Lestat is the mother here, carrying the core. The other hosts had been female. And Louis is the father, literally cutting the cord (and he is pissed when it doesn’t work for Lestat), and also others see him as needing to be rescued but in the end it is HIM who saves them.

And it is HIM who holds Lestat’s hand through it.

The book also closes with Lestat noting that it is almost 2pm in the afternoon(!).

Blood Communion

This one is pretty straight forward, and almost without detours, story-wise.

Lestat is living at his court, enjoying it, and being somewhat unsettled by that. Louis is having a good time there, learning from other vampires. Marius is drawing up the rules, smaller shit happens, they set up dungeons. Roshmandes fledgling Benedict commits suicide there, lets the young ones drink him dry.

Roshmandes wants revenge. The elder ones try to protect Lestat, but Roshmandes kidnaps Gabrielle, David and Louis. Returning ash and an item of each.

Lestat is… numb. (I have seen others say that he doesn’t react much but to me he reads totally numb. Autopilot. As if blinkered.)

He makes the decision to give himself up in order to save the rest of those that are in his court. Roshmandes picks him up, and Lestat does an all or nothing move, blinding Roshmandes by eating his eyes and then burning him again and again and then drinking him dry and dismembering him. He takes the rest of it to the court telling the young ones to receive the ancient blood in order to receive the blood communion.

He remembers Rosh saying something before his death and keeps on pressing the issue until the others finally follow his requests and track down a hideout, where they find Gabrielle, David and Louis - necks broken and heads turned back, encased in iron, in an underground hole.

Lestat gets Fareed bc he’s terrified of not being able to heal them. He’s most nervous for Louis.

In the end Lestat realizes that he has accepted being a vampire, that this is his family now. His tribe. That he is, indeed, their prince. That they need new rituals.

There’s some nice comments re the other characters, a beautiful, but also painful argument with Armand.

They put up mortal evildoers into their dungeon(!), for convenient feeding and for the younger ones. Lestat turns his architect, telling him he’ll likely hate him in a while, but that he’s doing it anyways.

He and Louis dance, as a couple, at the ball.

So that’s the books.

A few final notes.

Throughout the books Lestat struggles. He’s been raped into this and he’s literally going at it full defiance mode, the if-I-have-to-I‘ll-do-it-properly approach. Which costs him. Which is often counterproductive. He often rages. When he‘s scared he laughs. And or gets angry. He’s also frighteningly powerful, far beyond his age, due to circumstance.

But he’s human still, turned against his will. He never accepted this life, not fully. An actor, forever prohibited from performing (apart from that little stunt with his rock career).

It literally takes Lestat dying by his children’s hands, sleeping, rock star, Akasha, body switching, meeting God and the Devil, coma, ghosts, witches, Louis‘ attempted suicide, and being forced into a ruling position with absolute horror-terror to think Louis might be dead to come to terms with it. And be happy with what and who he is. Which, conversely, brings him closer to his humanity again.

It takes Louis that attempted murder, decades with Armand, seeing Lestat as mortal, seeing him comatose, and then learning the truth about Claudia, a suicide attemtpt and the resulting power upgrade, and more years at Trinity Gate reflecting and tending to the garden to accept what he is missing. What he wants.

He‘s just as insecure as Lestat is - and, in a way, both think they’re not enough for the other. Louis just says it out loud before he comes to court.:)

After the last book both have accepted who they are. Lestat needs a lot of variety and drama. Louis a good book and conversation by the fire ;) They both get that at the court.

But Louis is also happy with the decisions that Lestat makes. Like the dungeon. Or the chopping off hands. He accepts Lestat’s dark side.

And that dark side is there. Lestat rapes in the books. A woman. Forces David, into this life, force-feeds on him. He destroys fledglings on sight. Turns when he wants, who he wants. Physically fights. Enjoys the fire gift. Enjoys killing. Maims.

He also is altruistic and generous. Kind when the mood strikes him.

Loving so much he cannot think.

The highest highs, the lowest lows.

Which is why I found the comments by Sam Reid re his arc and that we see "hints of the Prince“ in the show‘s Lestat, but that he’s not there yet, immensely interesting.

Definitely not a coincidence, this statement imho. AND… if you keep in mind the events of Prince Lestat… it might very well be that Amel is awakening in the show and pushing him once he snaps. Or even towards snapping. (The little monologue in the driveway in episode 5 was very telling there imho. "I fought my nature“. His nature… the spirit‘s wish is innocent blood and violence (at least then).)

So I hope you enjoyed the wild ride. Hope it made sense? :) Please let me know if you‘d like to know more/something else ;)

[cloudofbutterflies]

my favorite vampire chronicles scenes

Should be obvious, but major spoilers for the books ahead.

1. Daniel’s turning. I’m not even going to try to describe it. I love them to death, and I love this scene a little farther than that. It’s so GOOD.

2. Loustat reunion scene. It’s so soft and sweet and they are still ridiculously in love. It’s so human it hurts. It’s tender, it’s soft, it’s two people who have been in love for hundreds of years and are only beginning to find the words to express it. 

3. Lestat crying at the Witch’s Place while Nikki plays the violin. Lestat, we can all see your fundamental empathy and wish for things to be better, and we love it for you, even if you were fucked over enough you will always struggle to express it in ways we can see as good.

4. Louis burning the theatre in Interview. Go my little pyromaniac go<3

5. Blender.

6. The end of blood communion. I loved seeing all my little rights violations happy, I will admit it.

7. Tale of the body thief loustat. Your honor, they are stupid<3

8. Louis chapter at end of Prince Lestat. It was so good to see him again, and see him so happy. I love the little cynic sm.

[neo--queen--serenity]

I LOVE that they made Antoine a woman in the AMC adaptation. Like that was one aspect from the books that never got a whole lot of context until much, much later in the series. Like we KNEW Lestat made a new vampire side piece when he and Louis’ relationship was on the rocks in the book, but Anne just kinda…never did much with his character or told us what happened to him til nearly the end of the series. Even then we didn’t get much. So making him female is, to me, one of the many adaptation changes that makes the story feel fresh in the retelling. But will Lestat turn Antoinette into a vampire out of spite like he did with Antoine? We’ll have to wait and see.

[rapha-reads]

anne trying to make me believe that she killed off louis and gabrielle and marius in the final tome of lestat's adventures as if these three weren't the heart and soul of the entire chronicles and without them lestat wouldn't just crumble and die for good, right, anne, of course

and yet here i am sobbing in my pillow at 5am because that's what my life is all about and i am going through all the emotions

[jullythevamp]

Armand makes up with Marius in the last book and Daniel is quite literally deleted. No more devil's minion lol

!! spoilers for blood communion!!

I think make up is a strong word imo. they just got closer (there is no mention of both talking just the two since tva) because marius almost died.

and yes daniel was deleted in blood communion 💀 I'm still not over the daniel erasure in many other books ESPECIALLY THE VAMPIRE ARMAND.

BUT since the last mention of daniel states that DM are together, I will believe they are together. and it would make sense for marius and armand to be talking again since marius misses daniel.

at the end of the day nicki is dead and I would still kill for nickistat. let a DM girl dream lmao.

[te3mo]

alright now that ive settled back into the land of tumblr as i eagerly search for more father paul content id like to drop my thoughts that i had written down as i finished the finale because oh👏🏻my👏🏻god👏🏻

the entire show was brilliant, but im specifically discussing pruitt here bc im a hopeless romantic and his interpersonal tragedy moved me the most.

spoilers duh

The revelation that this entire mess erupted only from a lifelong desire to somehow reunite with Millie and Sarah was agonizing to me. The God fearing priest feared death above all.

I've been on Reddit and watching reaction videos on YouTube and nobody seems to be touching on Pruitt and Millie the way I wished they would. I know we didn't get much content regarding their story in the show - only the brief reconnection under tragic circumstances in the finale - and I do wish I knew more, had more detail, but I think the fact it was left so fleeting and vague made it all that more sombering in the end. In so little time, it was shown how deeply he adored her; always had, always would. Of course there are several brief moments throughout the entire series that indicate such, but we can't truly put all the pieces together until the end.

Mildred immediately recognizing him despite her limited coherency due to her advanced dementia. The way he tears up simply sitting beside her for her first in-home communion and gently adjusts her blanket.

The way he interacts with Sarah whenever he sees her - staring at her from a distance, which Sarah comments he has done her entire life and assumes it was with judgment and perception that she is a sinner, since she is a lesbian. But no, it was always the opposite. He gazed from a distance out love and a yearning to be by her side raising her - and at the Crock Pot Luck now, he gazes as he always had but this time with the desperate hope that he will get a second chance.

He tells Sarah he's proud of her when any opportunity arises. Proud of her for caring for the community - she isn't "just doing her job," she is simply a wonderful human being. Proud of her again, he says, when she douses the church in gasoline. His flesh and blood he has admired from her birth despite not being the one to care for her and watch her grow from the perspective of an active father - he is so proud of her. He was always so proud of her. No matter what she did, he was proud of her.

Millie begins to regress in age, and Sarah continuously tests her cognition - is her mother really "here" now? How aware is she, truly? And when she asks her what her father's name is, Mildred hesitates. She is clearly coherent at this time, she so quickly confirmed that her childhood chores were the dishes and her rebellious youth was for boys and booze, but when Sarah asks what her father's name was, she hesitates. Sarah has to press for the answer - although it is a brief hesitation, it is a hesitation nonetheless.

When Pruitt returns for her in-home communion and meets her upstairs this time, there is something to be said even just in his body language as he leans casually against the door threshold, smiles at her with such warmth, saying that Sarah informed him she was feeling better. Followed by the way Millie shakily says his name in disbelief and then the way they hold hands while he ecstatically exclaims he has so much to tell her. He sounds like a giddy child with so much fun news to share; I interpret his thoughts as something akin to "I've lived such a long life wishing you could have been by my side, but let me tell you all about it since you weren't."

The finale. My God, the finale. Their conversation as they sit alone in the church now burdened with blood. "It was you," he said. The only thing he ever wanted was her, but she never asked him to take off the collar. She never would have - she clarified this. Everything he ever did, this entire disaster, was all because of her. He wanted a second chance; he wanted a true miracle. A true miracle, to him, was the ability to be together with Mildred again and love their daughter together. His commentary that Mildred was never a sin, never a mistake. That Sarah was never a sin, never a mistake. That he would have done anything for his Millie; he would have gone anywhere in the world with her.

Sarah's death. Hamish's acting is just *chef's kiss* in every damn episode, mostly through how passionately he expresses himself. Constantly. Every episode. But the sheer horror on his face at the sudden sound of a gunshot from behind him and Sarah immediately being struck down, and his impulse is to chase Sturge down and tackle him and kill him. There was no thought process to this - this was an act of pure impulse stemming from turmoil. It was an act to protect his daughter - IMMEDIATELTY eradicate the threat to her (though she is obviously already mortally wounded). Mildred runs in, crying for her baby girl, and Pruitt desperately tries to force his blood into her mouth as a last ditch effort to "save" her, but even in death Sarah does not want this. This is not resurrection, this is a curse, and so she rejects it and dies. She dies while, for the first time in her life, seeing both her mother and father right over her. Together.

The way Pruitt carries his daughter out of the church in silence. Mildred stays behind briefly only to ignite the church, which Sarah had already flooded with gasoline. And then they walk together and sit on the bridge, which Millie had explained was Sarah's favorite spot as a little girl.

While Pruitt caresses the face of the daughter he so dearly wanted to openly love and cherish, he rips off his clerical collar. He tosses it away without care. Mildred never asked him to take it off and never would have, and on his own accord, he finally does. His daughter is dead, and the rest of them will all be dead soon, too. The prayers for his miracle went unanswered. He will not get his second chance.

And as the sun rises and the island burns, he asks not God for forgiveness, but Mildred.

I loved every aspect of this show. I have no complaints. I imagine I will rewatch this multiple times. It has been a while since I've been so emotionally impacted by a piece of media. I loved the dynamic between Riley and Erin, I loved Leeza forgiving Joe Collie, I sobbed during Riley's sacrifice and I loved Sarah's character long before suspecting the dynamic between her and Pruitt. I loved every symbol in the entire series.

But above all, I loved the love Pruitt had for Mildred.

Anyways pls do follow me if you're as obsessed as I am, I haven't been active on here in years but Tumblr has always been great for fangirling and this seems like a great time to write fanfiction again.

[ladisgarde]

(Blood Communion spoilers)

thinking of Armand beating his fists bloody in despair at thinking Marius may have died, that was raw.

[fenicenera83]

Genuine question .... My friends told me that Armand ends up with Lestat in the last book, not Marius?? I was very upset with that tbh but now u say he's with Marius?? Please tell me it's true because I don't want to read Armand ending up with anyone else except the love of his life!

I don't know why your friend lied to you, or if they don' t really understand what Anne wrote. But Anne has always linked Lestat to Louis. Lestat is in love with Louis and vice versa. I recommend you read Blood Communion because for those who love Marius/Armand it is important. Without giving too many spoilers, however, I can tell you that Anne specified how Armand reopened his heart to Marius and that he needs him. And that Lestat appears by his words to be Marius/Armand's number one fan :)

And knowing that Anne identified with and deeply loved Lestat I think those words are her legacy on the Marius/Armand couple, and they are words of love.

I Hope this help!

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Predictions: Eternity In A Box (Spoilers for Blood Communion)

In Ep3 I was freaking out over the parallels b/t vampires running their fingers thru Louis' hair as he thinks he (& Claudia) are gonna die.

In the movie's version of The Trial, Santiago condemns Louis to solitary confinement:

"Eternity in a box. Walled in a dungeon. Your only company will be your screams."

And I'm convinced the Theatre's gonna bury Louis alive.

TBF, I could be WAY off; but I was thinking abt how the scene went in the movie: the Theatre locked Louis in an iron coffin and buried him underground in the walls of Theatre, and how Mr. I Could Not Prevent It waited until way later to come in and literally dig Louis back up.

Hatred as a Box: Buried Alive

Both are HORRIBLE ways for vampires to "die." Compared to going out by fire it's a light sentence, sure, until you consider the LORE.

Iron + vampires = no bueno. (The same applies to witches & fae.)

Initially, AR's vampires weren't subject to traditional wards like silver, iron, crosses, garlic, etc. The Theatre coffin was wooden, just sealed with iron locks. But magic DOES have a strong effect on vamps, as highlighted in Merrick.

In TVA Armand describes his kidnapping by the Children of Satan:

In Blood Communion, AR specifically retconned iron in 2 notable instances. Cyril bound Baudwin in iron pickets ripped from a wrought-iron fence:

And most infamously: Rhosh's kidnap of Gabrielle, Marius, & Louis:

(I pray to GOD that AMC gets this far, it's one of my fave AR books.)

I can't tell if the coffin AMC!Lou's in is iron or wood, but if he's stuffed in the Wet Room's morgue-like "burial vaults," that's definitely metal, if not steel/iron. Which is such a clever modern update to coffins. 👌

Then there's the pebbles all over Louis. Nothing much here, except that they're made of stone, and I was reminded of the hardening/crystalizing process of AR's vampires, as they age & become more & more stone-like as their luracastria hardens over time.

The stone hardening of a vampire =/= Death, but rather SLEEP; as exemplified with Akasha & Enkil--the 2 oldest vamps, who look/feel like statues. (The QotD movie took this too literally with Maharet.)

But yeah, I like the visual poetry of Lou in a coffin full of stone pebbles, essentially put to sleep by Santiago for eternity in a box; which is not unlike too what Rhosh would end up doing to him in BC.

Love as a Box: A Prized Treasure

The imagery of coffins & the theme of Louis spending eternity in a box further made me think abt Louis' (toxic) romantic relationships.

I've spoken ad nauseum abt Loustat, so I wanna focus more on Loumand here. Cuz Armand's love of Lou seems to contradict his tendency to wait for catastrophe to strike b4 he "rescues" Lou from horrible situations that could've been avoided had Armand made his move a lot sooner. (Unkind & ungracious, I know, but I'm on a tangent here.)

We see this with the Theatre, as Armand lets the coven slowly descend upon Louis & Claudia, knowing they're in danger but wanting Claudia out of the picture before he extracts Louis.

We're seeing it in Dubai, as Louis' broken "in pieces for the privilege of putting them back together again," like jigsaw pieces kept in a box. (Not NEFARIOUSLY, but Louis does speak about "pieces of himself" that he's lost/forgotten. And he asks Armand's permission to see Claudia's diaries? Which tells me that Coven Master Armand's ALWAYS held significant sway over Louis' life in their household.

And I suspect that we'll see it again if AMC pulls a Merrick on us, and swaps out Merrick & David for Armand & Lestat (a la AR's Tulane drafts), when Louis puts his own coffin in the sun and burns alive.

Cuz this is all just history repeating itself. We've seen this dynamic in Lou's life w/ Les. As his 2 great romantic loves, Les & Armand are similar & different. Neither of them's healthy for Lou, but they genuinely love him in their own effed up way. But Claudia's still right: BOTH of them keep Lou in a box.

Louis of Troy: Venus de Milo

Let's think for a sec abt the Venus de Milo we saw at the end of Ep1:

At the time I was thinking: why did AMC pick that statue? Sure, it's famous & iconic and is at the Louvre in Paris. But I stuck a pin it it.

Loumand visits an art museum in Ep4, and we can probably assume it'll have something to do with Armand's career as an art thief/broker.

During WWII all kinds of buildings got looted & bombed up, and museums had to literally bury their priceless art in boxes/crates in the dirt in order to keep them safe from the Nazis and people who wanted to steal/destroy the priceless statues.

Which is ironic, cuz a lot of discovered art was excavated/dug up; people exhuming ancient statues out of the dark earth, into the light of a new era--like a vampire. (Venus de Milo was dug up too.)

Supposedly, VdM depicts the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite, holding the Apple of Discord in her hand (which was found broken off next to the statue). The Apple of Discord was the prize given to Aphrodite during the Judgement of Paris, a beauty pageant that caused Paris to run off with (the already married) Helen of Troy/Sparta & started the Trojan War. Herodotus, the "Father of History," said the West (Greeks/Europeans) vs the East (Asians/Africans) were always fighting cuz people kept stealing e/o's brides. 😂 Women were chattel just like animals in antiquity, so bride raids & cattle raids were typical catalysts for numerous mythic & historic conflicts.

Typical xenophobic fodder for racist miscegenation laws, ofc, but vampire literature eats this trope up, thanks to Dracula. AR's books do this over & over--culminating in Rhosh's infamous rape/capture of Gabrielle, Louis & Marius in BC. And AMC's emphasis on interracial/multicultural relationships inevitably draws comparisons, too.

Naturally, I'm thinking about how Troy burned over Helen; and the Theatre burned over Claudia (& Madeleine); and the Chateau burned over Gabrielle/Louis/Marius.

But I'm also thinking about how the first time Akasha & Enkil moved in 1000+ years, it was cuz Akasha allowed Lestat to drink from her, and Enkil was so mad that he got up and nearly curbstomped Lestat to mush b4 Marius wrestled Enkil off of him. 🤣

The victim/woman inevitably gets blamed, from Helen to Akasha, and ofc Louis; but it still tracks that entire wars get launched purely over love/sex--another form of treasure/money/property/status.

And I can't help but wonder how much AMC will or won't lean into the possibility that Lou's being held captive in the Dubai penthouse by Armand--NOT necessarily by force, but rather by...compliance; COMPLICIT--and that their relationship is a huge catastrophe that Lestat will inevitably have to "rescue" Louis from like some damsel in distress, like he had to do with Nicki. Or if Lou will somehow rescue himself and NOT pull a Merrick after all. 👀

And that (finally) brings me to my final point.

Safety as a Box: Louis' "coffin"

When Daniel asked Lou where his coffin was, Lou told Dan the entire Dubai penthouse was his coffin. Thanks to Armand's UV-light-controlled iPad, the vamps can walk safely in gold-warm sunlight.

But the penthouse still radiates CHILL. They're in the middle of a desert, but Daniel's constantly in a cardigan, Louis' often dressed in hoodies, Armand even wears an actual coat--it looks cold. 🙁 The sunlight's filtered/diluted; it can't warm anybody--human or vamp.

As opposed to the natural lighting at 1132, coming not from the windows (which are always carefully closed & curtained), but from the fireplaces--seemingly ALWAYS roaring by Loustat's coffins in the Coffin Room, and sofas in the parlor (there's another one across from their bed, too). 1132 exudes warmth; the florals & earthtones adding to the tropical NOLA vibe--there's peacocks on their wallpapers ffs.

Loustat's townhouse emulates a wild & free Savage Garden, but the vampires sleep in extremely close quarters in their coffins--even doubling up after Lou breaks Les.' Is it confining? Or intimate?

I have to wonder if, in Louis' efforts to take Claudia's words to heart, and not be confined in a "small box" anymore, Lou insisted on not sharing a coffin with his 2nd husband. Instead, they sleep in a HUGE king-sized bed, with plenty of space (at the price of less intimacy). But Louis hilariously STILL sleeps like a corpse vampire in a coffin, arms/hands folded across his chest! XD

And as spacious as Louis' new bed is, he's sleeping in a literal JAIL CELL; an utterly inorganic crypt-looking edifice of strange shapes, where the open plan does nothing to distract from the mental patient aura of the sunken bed & padded ceiling & metal (iron? 👀) cage bars. Is it for Louis' reluctant safety? Or for Louis' elusive sanity?

Pick Your Poison

So this is my long-winded way of saying: Lou's BEEN doomed to spend eternity in a box. It's just that that box is shaped & defined by the love his 2 control-freak toxic AF husbands have for him:

Lestat is clingy and heavy-handed, and 1132 is more cramped/crowded, but more warm & intimate. It's a contained wilderness/Savage Garden in miniature; the seraglio crawling with mistresses (Antoinette) & soldiers picked for an orgy; fit for a pimp--where Louis himself is paranoiacally caged like a prized slave/housewife.

Armand is more distant/mature (internally desperate) and enabling, and the Dubai penthouse is more spacious/open-planned, cold and foreboding; a locked off tower in the sky. It's a glorified jail cell not even trying to disguise its bars; full of around-the clock staff & handlers & nursemaids/doctors (Fareed)--where Louis is jealously guarded like an in-house mental patient kept in an asylum.

[v-e-l-v-e-t-g-o-l-d-m-i-n-e]

Lestat, Armand and their complicated love/hate relationship

I found myself backing out of the room and away from him, staring numbly at his small dirty figure. His auburn hair shimmered despite the dirt in it; his eyes burned like two lights.

Grotesque he seemed, among all the candles and the swimming colors of the flat, this filthy waif of the netherworld, and yet his beauty held sway. He hadn't needed the shadows of Notre Dame or the torchlight of the crypt to flatter him. And there was a fierceness in him in this bright light that I hadn't seen before.

I felt an overwhelming confusion. He was both dangerous and compelling. I could have looked on him forever, but an overpowering instinct said: Get away. Leave the place to him if he wants it. What does it matter now? - The Vampire Lestat

"It is like not knowing how to read, isn't it?" he said aloud. "And your maker, the outcast Magnus, what did he care for your ignorance? He did not tell you the simplest things, did he?"

Nothing in his expression moved as he spoke.

"Hasn't it always been this way? Has anyone ever cared to teach you anything?"

"You're taking these things from my mind. . ." I said. I was appalled. I saw the monastery where I'd been as a boy, the rows and rows of books that I could not read, Gabrielle bent over her books, her back to all of us. "Stop this!" I whispered.

It seemed the longest time had passed. I was becoming disoriented. He was speaking again, but in silence.

They never satisfy you, the ones you make. In silence the estrangement and the resentment only grow.

I willed myself to move but I wasn't moving. I was merely looking at him as he went on.

You long for me and I for you, and we alone in all this realm are worthy of each other. Don't you know this? - The Vampire Lestat

I beat him again, turning him this way and that. And then I drew my sword to sever his head.

Let him live like that if he can. Let him be immortal like that if he can. I raised the sword and when I looked down at him, the rain was pelting his face, and he was staring up at me, as one half alive, unable to plead for mercy, unable to move.

I waited. I wanted him to beg. I wanted him to give me that powerful voice full of lies and cunning, the voice that had made me believe for one pure and dazzling instant that I was alive and free and in the state of grace again. Damnable, unforgivable lie. Lie I'd never forget for as long as I walked the earth. I wanted the rage to carry me over the threshold to his grave.

But nothing came from him.

And in this moment of stillness and misery for him, his beauty slowly returned.

He lay a broken child on the gravel path, only yards from the passing traffic, the ring of horses' hooves, the rumble of the wooden wheels.

And in this broken child were centuries of evil and centuries of knowledge, and out of him there came no ignominious entreaty but merely the soft and bruised sense of what he was. Old, old evil, eyes that had seen dark ages of which I only dream.

I let him go, and I stood up and sheathed my sword. - The Vampire Lestat

He heard me. But he didn't give an answer. He looked to Gabrielle, who stood near the fire, and then to me. And silently, he said, Love me. You have destroyed everything! But if you love me, it can all be restored in a new form. Love me.

This silent entreaty had an eloquence, however, that I can't put into words.

"What can I do to make you love me?" he whispered. "What can I give? The knowledge of all I have witnessed, the secrets of our powers, the mystery of what I am?"

It seemed blasphemous to answer. And as I had on the battlements, I found myself on the edge of tears. For all the purity of his silent communications, his voice gave a lovely resonance to his sentiments when he actually spoke. - The Vampire Lestat

"Each time the death and the awakening will ravage the mortal spirit, so that one will hate you for taking his life, another will run to excesses that you scorn. A third will emerge mad and raving, another a monster you cannot control. One will be jealous of your superiority, another shut you out." And here he shot his glance to Gabrielle again and half smiled.

"And the veil will always come down between you. Make a legion. You will be, always and forever, alone!" - The Vampire Lestat

"Does anyone else know the size of your soul?"

Witchcraft. Had it ever been used with more skill? And what was he really saying to us beneath this liquid flow of beautiful language: Come to me, and I shall be the sun round which you are locked in orbit, and my rays shall lay bare the secrets you keep from each other, and I, who possess charms and powers of which you have no inkling, shall control and possess and destroy you!

"I asked you before," I said. "What do you want? Really want?"

"You!" he said. - The Vampire Lestat

He had only moved very fast, and I had moved faster, and we stood facing each other in the doorway of the crypt, and again I said that single negation and I wouldn't let him go.

"Not like this, we can't part. We can't leave each other in hatred, we can't." And my will dissolved suddenly as I embraced him and held tight to him so that he couldn't free himself nor even move.

I didn't care what he was, or what he had done in that doomed moment of lying to me, or even trying to overpower me, I didn't care that I was no longer mortal and would never be again.

i wanted only that he should remain. I wanted to be with him, what he was, and all the things he had said were true. Yet it could never be as he wished it to be. - The Vampire Lestat

"You're mad to blame it all on me. You have no right," I insisted, but my voice was faltering so badly I couldn't understand my own words.

And his voice shot out of him like the tongue of a snake.

"We had our Eden under that ancient cemetery," he hissed. "We had our faith and our purpose. And it was you who drove us out of it with a flaming sword. What do we have now! Answer me! Nothing but the love of each other and what can that mean to creatures like us!"

"No, it's not true, it was all happening already. You don't understand anything. You never did."

But he wasn't listening to me. And it didn't matter whether or not he was listening. He was drawing closer, and in a dark flash his hand went out, and my head went back, and I saw the sky and the city of Paris upside down.

I was falling through the air.

And I went down and down past the windows of the tower, until the stone walkway rose up to catch me, and every bone in my body broke within its thin case of preternatural skin. - The Vampire Lestat

Poor Armand. And you told me Louis was dead. Go dig a room for yourself under the Lafayette Cemetery. It's just up the street. - The Vampire Lestat

"You always make me laugh," I told him. "I would have laughed at you under that cemetery in Paris, except it didn't seem the kind thing to do. And even when you cursed me and blamed me for all the stories about us, that was funny too. If you hadn't been about to throw me off the tower I would have laughed. You always make me laugh."

Delicious it was, the hatred between us, or so I thought. Such unfamiliar excitement, to have him there to ridicule and despise. - The Vampire Lestat

"It wasn't that I wanted vengeance," he whispered. His face was stricken, his heart broken. He said. "But you came to be healed, and you did not want me! A century I had waited, and you did not want me!"

And I knew, as I had all along really, that my restoration was illusion, that I was the same skeleton in rags, of course. And the house was still a ruin. And in the preternatural being who held me was the power that could give me back the sky and the wind.

"Love me and the blood is yours," he said. "This blood that I have never given to another." I felt his lips against my face.

"I can't deceive you," I answered. "I can't love you. What are you to me that I should love you? A dead thing that hungers for the power and the passion of others? The embodiment of thirst itself?" - The Vampire Lestat

In mute fascination, Daniel had watched that little clip on MTV portraying Armand as the coven master of the old vampires beneath the Paris cemetery, presiding over demonic rituals until the Vampire Lestat, the eighteenth-century iconoclast, had destroyed the Old Ways. Armand must have loathed it, his private history laid bare in flashing images, so much more crass than Lestat’s more thoughtful written history. Armand, whose eyes scanned perpetually the living beings around him, refusing even to speak of the undead. But it was impossible that he did not know. - The Queen of the Damned

At last particular movies struck his fancy. Over and over he watched Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, fascinated by Rutger Hauer, the powerfully built actor who, as the leader of the rebel androids, confronts his human maker, kisses him, and then crushes his skull. It would bring a slow and almost impish laugh from Armand, the bones cracking, the look in Hauer’s ice-cold blue eye.

“That’s your friend, Lestat, there,” Armand whispered once to Daniel. “Lestat would have the...how do you say?...guts?...to do that!” - The Queen of the Damned

At the door, I turned and kissed Gabrielle again. I felt her body collapse against me for an instant; then her attention locked on Akasha. I felt the faint tremor in her hands as she touched my face. I looked at Louis, my seemingly fragile Louis with his seemingly invincible composure; and at Armand, the urchin with the angel’s face. Finally those you love are simply... those you love. - The Queen of the Damned

The other immortals are still around, of course-Maharet and Mekare, the eldest of us all, Khayman of the First Brood, Eric, Santino, Pandora, and others whom we call the Children of the Millennia. Armand is still about, the lovely five-hundred-year-old boy-faced ancient who once ruled the Theatre des Vampires, and before that a coven of devil worshiping blood drinkers who lived beneath the Paris Cemetery, Les Innocents. Armand, I hope, will always be around. - The Tale of the Body Thief

“No. Just tell me what’s happened. You’re in danger, aren’t you? Or you think you are. You sent out the call for me to come to you here. It was an unabashed plea.”

“Are those the words Armand used, ‘unabashed plea’? I hate Armand.”

David only smiled and made a quick impatient gesture with both hands. “You don’t hate Armand and you know you don’t.”

“Wanna bet?” - Memnoch the Devil

“My point is simply that I love you, that we’re linked in some way that none of the others is linked. Louis worships you. You’re some sort of dark god to him, though he pretends to hate you for having made him. Armand envies you and spies on you far more than you might think.”

“I hear Armand and I see him and I ignore him,” I said. - Memnoch the Devil

This was Armand.

He sat on the stone park bench, boylike, casual, with one knee crooked, looking up at me with the predictable innocence, dusty all over, naturally, hair a long, tangled mess of auburn curls.

Dressed in heavy denim garments, tight pants, and a zippered jacket, he surely passed for human, a street vagabond maybe, though his face was now parchment white, and even smoother than it had been when last we met.

In a way, he made me think of a child doll, with brilliant faintly red-brown glass eyes—a doll that had been found in an attic. I wanted to polish him with kisses, clean him up, make him even more radiant than he was.

“That’s what you always want,” he said softly. His voice shocked me. If he had any French or Italian accent left, I couldn’t hear it. His tone was melancholy and had no meanness in it at all. “When you found me under Les Innocents,” he said, “you wanted to bathe me with perfume and dress me in velvet with great embroidered sleeves.”

“Yes,” I said, “and comb your hair, your beautiful russet hair.” My tone was angry. “You look good to me, you damnable little devil, good to embrace and good to love.”

We eyed each other for a moment. And then he surprised me, rising and coming towards me just as I moved to take him in my arms. His gesture wasn’t tentative, but it was extremely gentle. I could have backed away. I didn’t. We held each other tight for a moment. The cold embracing the cold. The hard embracing the hard.

“Cherub child,” I said. I did a bold thing, maybe even a defiant thing. I reached out and mussed his snaggled curls.

He is smaller than me physically, but he didn’t seem to mind this gesture.

In fact, he smiled, shook his head, and reclaimed his hair with a few casual strokes of his hand. His cheeks went apple-perfect suddenly, and his mouth softened, and then he lifted his right fist, and teasingly struck me hard on the chest.

Really hard. Show-off. Now it was my turn to smile and I did. - Memnoch the Devil

Lestat, not a bad friend to have, and one for whom I would lay down my immortal life, one for whose love and companionship I have ofttimes begged, one whom I find maddening and fascinating and intolerably annoying, one without whom I cannot exist. - The Vampire Armand

Lestat, my Lestat - for he was never theirs, was he? - my Lestat was crazed and railing as the result of his awful saga, and held prisoner by the very oldest of our kind on the final decree that if he did not cease to disturb the peace, which meant of course our secrecy, he would be destroyed, as only the oldest could accomplish, and no one could plead for him on any account.

No, that could not happen! I writhed and twisted. The pain sent its shocks through me, red and violet and pulsing with orange light. I hadn't seen such colors since I'd fallen.

My mind was coming back, and coming back for what? Lestat to be destroyed! Lestat imprisoned, as I had once been centuries ago under Rome in Santino's catacombs. Oh, God, this is worse than the sun's fire, this is worse than seeing that bastard brother strike the little plum-cheeked face of Sybelle and knock her away from her piano, this is murderous rage I feel. - The Vampire Armand

"Lestat, give me this one embrace and I'll never ask another thing of you for all eternity. Let me put my lips to your throat, Lestat, let me test the tale, let me do it!"

"You break my heart, you little fool," he said with tears welling. "You always did."

"Don't judge me!" I cried. - The Vampire Armand

“Armand,” I said. “Please.” I dropped down on my knees in front of him, looking up into his face.

All the emotion he had held back was printed there now. He was in a rage.

“Is your heart totally turned against me?” I asked. “Do you have no faith in what we seek to build here?”

“Fool,” he said again. His voice was roughened now by emotion he couldn’t suppress. “I have always loved you,” he said. “I have loved you more than any being in all the world whom I’ve ever loved. I have loved you more than Louis. I have loved you more even than Marius. And you have never given me your love. I would be your most faithful counselor, if you allowed it. But you don’t. Your eyes pass over me as if I don’t exist. And so they always have.”

I knelt there defeated. I didn’t know where to begin. I didn’t know what to say. I felt such a huge exhaustion, I had no way out of it, no way to find eloquence or reason or the vigor to try to reach him, reach beyond his malice to his soul.

He went on again, staring at me as he spoke.

“I hate you as much as I have ever loved you,” he said. “Oh, I didn’t want for Rhoshamandes to destroy you. Good God, that I never wanted. Never. When I heard them crying out that you’d returned I wept like a child. [...] But how could I not hate you, you who went in search of my maker all those long years ago when I scarce believed in him anymore — and was found by him, saved from the earth by him, welcomed into his lair by him, you whom he loved, you to whom he told the secrets of our beginning, when he had never come to free me from the Children of Satan, you to whom he gave his love, while resigning me to the ruins of all you’d destroyed around me. I hate you! I understand the very definition of ‘hate’ when I think of you.” - Blood Communion

“You who humiliated me and destroyed my world,” he said, his voice now a fragile whisper. “You who later told with such relish how you shattered my coven, my little coven, my little coven of holy purpose. Yet still I didn’t want for you to die. And I should have known that you wouldn’t. Of course not. How could anyone put an end to you? [...]

I found myself on my feet again. I’d drawn back away from him without realizing it. The air was poison between us. But I couldn’t look away or go.

“I love you still,” he said. “Yes, even now, I love you, as they all love you, your minions seeking just a smile or a nod or a quick touch of your hand. I love you like all those throughout this palace who are dreaming of drinking just a drop of your blood. Well, you can leave me now. I’m not going anywhere. Where is there to go? I’ll be here if you want me. And grant me my wish for the moment, you and your august friends. Go and leave me alone.” - Blood Communion

The only thought in my mind, the only image, the only idea, was of Armand, and how Armand would feel when he too could hold Marius like this and know that Marius lived, that Marius had been restored, that all of them were safe and secure, and using my strongest power I sent the word to him. I sent the news. And I sent my love to Armand with it. - Blood Communion

[nalyra-dreaming]

Yes! The Prince version of Lestat ain’t for the faint of heart either lol. One of my favorite Prince era moments is also one of his more savage. It involves an axe, his signature maniacal laughter, and walking the entire length of a grand dining tabletop in designer wingtip shoes. I was grinning so big the first time I read that scene, because I was like ‘there he is….there’s my Lestat’ lol.

Ohhhhhh yes (hey nonny) , THAT lives in my head rent free.

And as brutal as that scene was I WANT/NEED to see that on screen.

Also, as a side note: LOUIS in the last books isn't exactly quivering in his boots in regards to .... things either. His reaction to this scene? A smile. The dungeon for example? *pffffft* It will be really interesting to see them get there - fingers crossed!

[droogiesanddiscourse]

"Hellfire."

Pairing: Monsignor John Pruitt x F!Reader

Summary: You are called first to receive everlasting life from the angel's blood during Easter Vigil.

Warnings: Spoilers for Episode 6 of Midnight Mass and all the content that comes with it. Language. Taking some liberties with how the angel's blood works uhhh hehe. Millie who's that AU. Going off of the stream of consciousness / dream-like writing I am trying so hard to stay out of my head and just write what comes.

"Brothers and sisters,” Monsignor Pruitt concludes. “On this most holy night I come to you with good news. Not only the good news of the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who arose to forgive us of our sins after three days in the tomb. But, also the resurrection of ourselves."

He clasps his hands together in makeshift prayer, eyes sparkling an unfamiliar orange glow that you've never seen before. That of a feral black cat's eyes bouncing back light. The ones that hunt on the outpost of the island, all teeth and heat and hunger and sex and wild and and and--

Visions of nocturnal holiness.

"I ask you. Trust in me. And God will reward your loyalty heavily. Know that I would not ask of the ultimate sacrifice of your life if I did not have utmost faith in our God for the miracle he is about to bestow tonight."

The silence within the church is deafening. Not a soul rises for his offer, parishioners stunned to their seats. His eyes scan, searching for a familiar face. Finally focusing on yours.

“Please. [“____”]," his voice like liquid honey calls to you, echoing through the church. "I call upon you to take the plunge first, my sweet child. Show the good people of Crockett Island that there is nothing to fear. That there is paradise waiting for us all tonight."

He leaves his pulpit, descending down the steps towards you. His arm reaches out, using his slender fingers to beckon you to him with a "come hither" motion. White vestments flowing, covering his human visage as he moves, billowing out like an angel's wings.

Devils were once just fallen angels. Symbols of purity be damned.

He notices your trepidation.

"One moment of pain, perhaps. But an eternity of youth and love and worship in His name. We have been given a tremendous gift, sister ["____"]. Be brave.”

Beverly Keene remained tucked in the upper corner of the church, stirring the choice of death for this evening. She's always been a witch in your eyes; now the harsh comparison rings true more than ever as she concocts a deadly potion of sickeningly sweet liquid.

The smell reminds you of too hot summers and running against the shoreline as the waves lap against your ankles and buying popsicles at the general store and sticky raspberry juice running between your fingers. Familiar memories and tastes intermingled with rat poison.

“And so Jesus rose from the tomb, trampling down death. As will we. I am with you, and you are with me. There is nothing to fear."

Don't drink the kool-aid, the old adage goes.

But you wonder how vanilla and raspberry taste mixed together.

Jonestown redux is standing before you, with his hand outstretched for you to take; his body backlit by the illumination of hundreds of candles. You look up at him through your lashes, lips slightly parted. Your eyebrows upturned and eyes reposed.

"Monsignor. Forgive me, but I cannot," you swallow hard. Back yourself from that cliff, you have one leg dangling over the edge now! "For I have not taken communion as my sins have been too weighty, too difficult to ever be forgiven. I believe I did not deserve the body and blood of Christ at that time, which is selfish of me. Forgive me.”

John almost considers this for a moment, his thick eyebrows furrowing together as he stares down at you.

"There is no resurrection for me. I will die,” you state bluntly. Your words are finally registering. 

Back away back away, make distance between the cliff.

But he smiles, against your expectations. A tight lipped smile, his eyes kissing at the corners when his cheeks raise. Missed by the miracle of reversed age, not reaching the crows feet that reveal only when he's truly happy.

"My angel. You've taken more than enough of my seed in your womb, and down your throat. The blessing is already inside you."

His hand grazes your cheek, and Hellfire reigns down as the finality of his reveal sets in across the room. Hot and prickling at the back of your neck. High pitched buzzing of bees in your ears. Whore of Babylon comes to Crockett Island. Mary Magdalene weeps. Hundreds of eyes descend upon your form, fragile and ready to break at a moment's notice.

Hell has a special place reserved for you for tasting the most unholy fruits. You wear guilt like a halo.

John positions his index fingers and thumb underneath your chin, tilting it upwards. Your eyes dart away, unable to face him. For sure your very skin would burst into flames if you stared too long.

"Look at me," he demands. "Look at me, angel. Do not be ashamed.”

Oh, you’re more than familiar with this position.

Your eyes tilt back, big and yearning and scared yet wanting more. More of John, more of his smell on your bedsheets, more of his fingers in your mouth more of the salty bitter taste of his skin more breaking the boundaries between heaven and hell more more more more flesh more blood no sin no death no guilt.

Hell has a special place reserved for you in due time.

But real hell is living without him. You slip your hand into his, rising from the pew.

The church is silent, conversations about your unforgivable sin now hushed to murmurs. Somewhere in the distance you hear the gentle song of night crickets that intermingle with your delicate footsteps across decades old wood. A resounding creak and moan of the floorboards that echoes through the small church that makes it become an entity of its own, ready to swallow you whole.

Someone is crying, quietly muffled pathetically behind a cloth. A woman blesses herself using the sign of the cross as you pass.

A dead girl walking, and this is the sound of your funeral march.

Your toes bump into the first step leading up to the chancel. Guiding you by your waist, John spins you to face the congregation. Expressions of the crowd are unreadable.

Are you Joan of Arc or a witch about to be burned at the stake?

Blasphemy, blasphemy stood before your friends, family, acquaintances.

A light. The vision of John blocks you away from their watchful eyes as he stands before you, cupping your face within his hands. Your eyes lock together. Gently, he presses a chaste kiss to the center of your forehead. Lips just barely ghosting over your flesh. You tremble before him.

Bev stands behind you, both arms outstretched forward, bent at the elbow. You’re smart enough to realize she’s ready to catch you for when you involuntarily start seizing, your body putting up its final fight against the poison coursing through its veins.

Life. Death. Rise. 

A sob starts in your larynx, unable to burst fully to the surface The warmth of his hands removed from your face, now reaching for Bev's as he takes the small plastic solo cup of juice from hers into his.

"I am with you," he whispers as he holds the cup up to your lips. "As you walk through the valley of the shadow of death I am with you, and you will come out on the other side anew. Whole. Pure as a reward for your devotion to Him."

Raspberry and vanilla threaten to break the seal of your lips, the cup tapped against it. His other hand snakes his way up your back, weaving his fingers within your hair. The digits tug against your locks slightly, tilting your head back.

"Open."

Saliva gathers at the back of your throat.

You can't, you can't, you can't.

You cannot dare to lose the chance to miss another one of those too hot summer days where the children of Crockett island throw their books haphazardly into their backpacks basking in their first hours of summer vacation and the salty water clinging to your hair making it curly and sticky raspberry juice dripping between your fingers–

But oh the visions of him with and the way he whimpers into your neck when he thrusts into you, his hot mouth on your pulse point, the way his hand pin down your wrists forcing you to stay still. Murmured praises and bedroom hymns whispered as the moonlight coats both of your bodies in a ghostly blue glow. Was it truly ever living without him? No more hiding no more secrets you are his and he is yours. A boundary death cannot even cross–eternity is a beautiful thing to imagine.

A tear slips out of your eye, rolling down your cheek. The pad of John’s thumb gently rubs it away. Sympathy for the condemned.

"Drink."

And you do.

[effyrosemary]

oh my god unethical priest marius you're a genius!!!!! do you think armand resists the idea that letting his priest fuck him is totally okay in the eyes of god or is he relieved to finally let go and give into his baser desires.... or both! do you think it makes him less guilty or more? god and imagine if marius were to weaponize armand's guilt in order to keep him even more trapped, like yes you are so bad for this and i'm the only one who can absolve you. i'm so invested LOL if you have any hcs of how it would play out i'm aaalll ears

Omg! thank you! To answer your question:

I think it’s both kinda. I think for Armand it would be so liberating to finally give in to these desires, and I think the shame is also kind of what gets him off (it’s the classic “oh no this is so wrong, but it feels so good!”). But I also think that there’s still a small part of him that genuinely feels it’s wrong to do these sexual things. Armand desperately wants to believe in something, I think, and to have that stability so he can have a space for himself to rebuild and to trust again. (don’t get me started, I have this whole fic idea of Daniel trying to provide Armand with a cozy little home and emotional support and stability so Armand has a space to heal, but that’s another story for another day) But I also feel like Armand is very nihilistic in some ways, so maybe he feels guilty but he also goes against the guilt on purpose, to feel that hurt and to feel that shame, I don’t know if you’re following me hahah

And omg, Marius weaponizing the genuine guilt is so wrong and so deliciously GOOD. (idc! it’s fiction! they’re not real people! let us have our dirty thoughts OK!)

When I first saw “unethical therapist Marius” on @monstersinthecosmos I was so immediately hooked. (I then sent this anon bc I needed to talk about it lmao, I was still not familiar with tumblr again after being away for a long time and I thought maybe people will think I’m weird but now I say fuck it bc Anne Rice never shunned away from people thinking her stories/characters were strange/too much.)

Marius is always so seemingly in control, and I love when he’s fooling himself that he’s doing the right thing when he KNOWS he’s not. That’s also why I like Pandora and him together, she kinda sees through his mask. Spoiler: I still remember that one part in Blood Communion after Marius kills Arjun where they’re all sitting around the table and Marius is furiously talking to Pandora and Lestat says: “I had never seen him so angry”, in other words; Lestat has never really seen Marius’ mask break like that, except now that he is upset with/about Pandora. Or when he’s helped out of the ice by Pandora and Santino in QOTD where he childishly snaps at her and says “I can walk unaided, thank you!” when Pandora reaches out to touch him, and she just gives him a shove and is like ‘“Fine girl, walk then lmao”

He wants to be this voice of reason, this stability etc, and he is, but he’s also human. So I love it when those kind of characters secretly give in to their bad side and try to justify it! I also love it when usually reserved people finally snap and can’t control themselves anymore when they finally get what they want, it’s my favorite thing. (There is this beautiful fic by @0junemeatcleaver0 where Marius kinda loses his composure at some points and he gives in to what he really wants and it’s so good. Highly recommend that fic in general.)

I LOVE headcanons, please tell me if you have some! These are some of mine regarding priest!marius:

- Marius has to actively restrain his thoughts from going wild when he sees Armand on his knees, or when the boy is reaching up to clean a shelf and his shirt rises and Marius can see the silky skin of his lower back. He’s practically drooling :)

- Armand secretly kind of knows the relationship between them is wrong, but he tries to test Marius by experimenting. (Sitting next to Marius and accidentally letting their knees touch etc that sort of thing, playing it dirty but also safe you know)

- Armand gets turned on when Marius is preaching in front of the crowd (idk how that shit works I’m not even religious, I never grew up religious lmao! how bad I am!) because Armand loves to see Marius in a position of power, and he loves how the people of the church look up to him.

- Armand has definitely thought about sucking Marius off under his robes when he’s speaking in front of a church full of people.

- At night, when Marius can’t think of nothing but Armand’s shapely legs and his lovely mouth, he turns to his Bible with the stubborn will of A Good Man and tries to ignore the insistent throbbing between his legs. And he can manage it, at least for a while.

- But then one night, he walks in on Armand praying on his knees and he walks up to tell the boy to go on home because it’s late and he should get some sleep, and the boy looks up from where he’s kneeling and says in a small voice, cheeks blushing; “I can’t, father. I’ll have sinful thoughts when I’m trying to sleep, I need to pray first.”

- And Marius offers he can help Armand with these thoughts, if Armand is willing to learn how to be a proper man of God.

- Nothing gets Marius more worked up than the idea of Armand calling him ‘ Father’ when they’re getting dirty together, it drives him feral

Alors… as Armand once told David Talbot; “Look, I’m deranged x”

* English is not my first language so apologies if there are some typos. Edit: I can’t believe I forgot the word “not” in the previous sentence for DAYS I have No Brains

[cleolinda]

Varney the Vampire: Chapter 14

Chapter 13: Interview with the vampyre

This is a short chapter and also a good one. If you were a fan of Henry Bannerworth Knowing That He Is In Dracula, this is the chapter for you.

I'm going to tag this "cannibalism" for real-life reasons, and also "unreality" because I want to talk about an aspect of fiction that might not be great for you if you don't feel like you're on solid ground. I mean, if people are using that tag for Goncharov, this is the high-octane stuff.

Chapter XIV.

HENRY'S AGREEMENT WITH SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. -- THE SUDDEN ARRIVAL AT THE HALL. -- FLORA'S ALARM.

To catch you up, the Bannerworth family's new neighbor has offered to buy Bannerworth Estate, since the family obviously will not want to live there now that a mysterious vampyre is harassing them by night. Upon arriving at the neighbor's house, Henry Bannerworth discovers that said neighbor: is the fucking vampyre. Like just chilling there, in a dim room, vampyring. Henry promptly starts having a very apparent breakdown, all while his kinda-uncle Marchdale is like, "Shhhhh, Henry, it's rude to tell people they're vampyres."

I. Still interviewing the vampyre

The unnamed servant brings the unnamed refreshments that Sir Francis has called for—unnamed but for "a glass of wine."

"You take nothing yourself?" said Henry. "I am under a strict regimen," replied Varney. "The simplest diet alone does for me, and I have accustomed myself to long abstinence." "He will not eat or drink," muttered Henry, abstractedly.

I grew up with the impression, and you may have too, that vampires specifically don't like wine, but why? I spent way too long googling this without getting a solid answer, as you will remember from our Public Domain Wine Dot Com digression. But I have finally learned that the "I never drink......... wine" thing was not in Stoker's Dracula, nor anything before it; much the way that Nosferatu (1922) introduced the concept of sunlight crisping vampires, it was the Balderston-Deane play adaptation (1924) that introduced the line, which was then adapted by Tod Browning for the screen (1931):

Both the line as written and Bela Lugosi's delivery put an outsized emphasis on it being wine. He could have been saying he didn't drink coffee after dinner. I'm spending an hour on google trying to figure out if it has anything to do with communion wine—nope. It ain't blood. That's all. As Henry points out, Varney doesn't eat or drink, period, and that's the underlying premise here. Because, you know. He's dead. That is the story that James Malcolm Rymer has going at this point in time, and he might or might not stick with it.

I'll wrap this segment up by noting that Henry is absolutely sure that the painting and the person are the same, because they both bear "the mark or cieatrix [a transcriber mistyped cicatrix?] of a wound in the forehead, which the painter had slightly indented in the portrait, but which was much more plainly visible on the forehead of Sir Francis Varney." A cicatrix—[sic]atrix?—is just a scar. The dude has a telltale scar.

II. Will u sell the house tho

Varney still has real estate on his mind (one wonders if this gave Stoker any ideas):

"I cannot yet," answered Henry, "I will think. My present impression is, to let you have it on whatever terms you may yourself propose, always provided you consent to one of mine." "Name it." "That you never show yourself in my family." "How very unkind. I understand you have a charming sister, young, beautiful, and accomplished. Shall I confess, now, that I had hopes of making myself agreeable to her?"

OH

NOOOOOOOOO

This is already bad for both Flora and her devoted Charles Holland, obviously, but you have to remember that Varney was inspired by the template of Polidori's Lord Ruthven, who was, pop-culturally, the Dracula of his time. And (SPOILER), the way the story ends is that Our Hero Aubrey is unable to prevent Lord Ruthven, who he has discovered to be a vampyre, from marrying, murdering, and vampyring his sister:

When on the staircase, Lord Ruthven whispered in his ear—"Remember your oath, and know, if not my bride to day, your sister is dishonoured. Women are frail!"

That is to say, in the context of 1819 rather than the consumptive Victorian "angel of the house" trope, morally "frail": the unnamed sister was willing to have premarital sex with Ruthven. Meanwhile, Aubrey has a literal rage stroke and is unable to tell anyone what Ruthven is, until after the marriage has been solemnized. These are the actual final lines of the story:

Aubrey's weakness increased; the effusion of blood produced symptoms of the near approach of death. He desired his sister's guardians might be called, and when the midnight hour had struck, he related composedly what the reader has perused—he died immediately after. The guardians hastened to protect Miss Aubrey; but when they arrived, it was too late. Lord Ruthven had disappeared, and Aubrey's sister had glutted the thirst of a VAMPYRE!

Welp. We're gonna need to call in some wellness checks on Henry, I think. But notice that we are in the 1840s—the Victorian era—now, and Flora has thoroughly been coded as both pure (to possibly a racist degree) and physically frail (except for when she's blasting vampyres). We are assured over and over that Flora is the very soul of goodness, and entirely worthy of that paragon of manhood, Charles Holland. I think the two of them might be in for some trouble, but it won't be "moral" temptation. Probably.

"You make yourself agreeable to her? The sight of you would blast her for ever, and drive her to madness." "Am I so hideous?" "No, but -- you are -- " "Hush, Henry, hush," cried Marchdale. "Remember you are in this gentleman's house."

Marchdale manages to drag Henry away before he can insult the vampyre who wants to continue stalking Henry's sister any further, because that would just be uncouth.

"Adieu," said Sir Francis Varney, and he made one of the most elegant bows in the world, while there came over his face a peculiarity of expression that was strange, if not painful, to contemplate.

Peculiar in what way? I have filed this away for later.

III. Coping: not even once

"Marchdale, it would be charity of some one to kill me."

"This man, Varney, is a vampyre." "Hush! hush!"

"I tell you, Marchdale," cried Henry, in a wild, excited manner, "he is a vampyre. He is the dreadful being who visited Flora at the still hour of midnight, and drained the life-blood from her veins. He is a vampyre. There are such things. I cannot doubt now. Oh, God, I wish now that your lightnings would blast me, as here I stand, for ever into annihilation, for I am going mad to be compelled to feel that such horrors can really have existence."

Honestly, I think half the problem is Marchdale telling him to shut up and not rock the boat. Everyone would feel a lot better if they could just gear up, ride out, and—

"Nay, talk not to me. What can I do? Shall I kill him? Is it not a sacred duty to destroy such a thing? Oh, horror -- horror. He must be killed -- destroyed -- burnt, and the very dust to which he is consumed must be scattered to the winds of Heaven. It would be a deed well done, Marchdale."

—yeah, that.

But how do you just go do that? This isn't Count Dracula, who lives in a spooky abbey and then flees home to his spooky castle and gets dealt with there. This is a dude who's going around the neighborhood being friendly and asking to buy estates. He's got servants, he's throwing around money on properties, he's trying to court your sister. How do you just go in and murderate him? What if, somehow, he's not a vampyre, and you were Extremely Mistaken the whole time, and now you're on trial for homicide?

Two examples from my taste in television come to mind:

One is the Hammersmith Ghost episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved: True Crime, in which a man decided to go hunt down and shoot a Boo Ghost™ harassing a district of London in 1804. It ended with one Francis Smith on trial for the murder of a bricklayer who happened to be wearing an unfortunate amount of white. I am sure Smith absolutely believed he was shooting a real ghost, right up until it became tragically apparent that the ghost hadn't already been dead.

The other one is the FASCINATING "Hunting Vampires" episode of Expedition Unknown, in which Josh Gates visits rural Romania to get scared by a cat and talk to a man who actually... well. Let me quote the fan wiki (content note: technically necrocannibalism?):

The next day, Josh meets Petra Rotar, a local journalist, and they drive to Craiova where they meet Daniela Barbu, a prosecutor. She had to charge six men who desecrated and exhumed the grave of Petre Toma. After Petre died villagers began to get sick and have nightmares with Petre in them. Six men went to the cemetery and pulled out Petre's heart, grilled it and prepared a potion from the ashes and everybody who was sick drank it. The villagers' jail term was suspended […] . Petra and Josh go to Marotinu de Sus and to the cemetery where they find Petre Toma's grave. Two angry villagers come but they are able to calm down and one of the men, Florin, is related to a man who dug up the body. Florin and Josh row across a lake to meet Florin's cousin Mitrica Mircea, where Mitrica [one of the six men] recounts the story for them and believes what he did was the right thing.

Like. This happened:

'No one is bothered who did it, it's their own business,' declared 80-year-old Tudor Stoica, shading his face with a fraying hat. 'This ritual often takes place, but in secret, within the family. The problem comes when the police get involved.'

This happened! And they're all sure they're doing the right thing! And I'm tagging this post "unreality," so if you have issues with certain kinds of ideations, I'm gonna say skip down to the next pull quote, but I'm trying to describe a certain quality in fiction: 

Of course I want to say that Mitrica Mircea wasn't doing the right thing, this is real life, there are no vampires to go around staking. But it's a funny thing, how people in genre fiction have to realize they're in genre fiction and things are real, and people in real life have to remember they're in real life and things aren't real, but also, the nature of consciousness is such that a fictional character might express the belief that they live in the real world, and a real person might find themselves in a traumatic moment thinking, This feels just like a movie. Do you ever find yourself in real life saying, "This feels like that moment in movies where the characters don't believe in monsters, and that's why they get eaten?" Can you, then, understand a character in fiction going through the same thing? I can't believe this is really happening, but it is.

Except that they are wrong, because it is fiction.

But they can't know that.

I feel fairly confident of my reality, and I'm confident none of my neighbors need to be staked. But I'll stop there in case anyone else isn't.

"Yes; but reflect, Henry, for a moment upon the length to which you might [have to] carry out so dangerous an argument. It is said that vampyres are made by vampyres sucking the blood of those who, but for that circumstance, would have died and gone to decay in the tomb along with ordinary mortals; but that being so attacked during life by a vampyre, they themselves, after death, become such." "Well -- well, what is that to me?" "Have you forgotten Flora?" A cry of despair came from poor Henry's lips, and in a moment he seemed completely, mentally and physically, prostrated. "God of Heaven!" he moaned, "I had forgotten her!"

H E N R Y.

IV. Marchdale what is your deal

Kinda-Sorta Uncle Marchdale pleads with Henry to not curl up and die because Flora needs him! Possibly to stake her someday! No, Marchdale, Flora has Charles Holland now! HUMPH, says Marchdale to that. As you will recall, Marchdale and Charles Holland loathed each other on sight for literally, in the literal sense of literally, no reason, and Marchdale stands by that:

"I, therefore, now prophecy to you that Charles Holland will yet be so stung with horror at the circumstance of a vampyre visiting Flora, that he will never make her his wife."

Bro, why are you like this. On one hand, Henry insists that Charles Holland is the soul of honor:

"You are, you may depend, entirely wrong. I cannot be deceived in Charles. From you such words produce no effect but one of regret that you should so much err in your estimate of any one. From any one but yourself they would have produced in me a feeling of anger I might have found it difficult to smother."

On the other hand, one might perhaps become concerned that the text keeps raising the issue of whether Charles Holland is trustworthy or not.

V. Anyway, when do we kill him

Henry and Marchdale agree that they won't tell the family that their new neighbor is the vampyre stalking Flora, because that always works out just fine. Marchdale declares, in fact, that there is no way that "this Sir Francis Varney, or whatever his real name may be, will obtrude himself upon you." Obviously, Varney will be intruding on them anon. Should he try such a thing, Henry announces that he will kill Varney really most sincerely dead:

"It would be fatal, so help me, Heaven; and then would I take especial care that no power of resuscitation should ever enable that man again to walk the earth." [Marchdale, very helpfully:] "They say the only way of destroying a vampyre is to fix him to the earth with a stake, so that he cannot move, and then, of course, decomposition will take its course, as in ordinary cases." "Fire would consume him, and be a quicker process," said Henry.

Well, I hope to fuck that they know where the matches are.

Varney the Vampire masterpost

[w-o-r-d-s--f-a-i-l]

Father Paul Hill (Muse)

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Gender: Cis Man

Faceclaim: Hamish Linklater

After the mysterious disappearance of the standing minister of a church of a small Canadian island town, Father Paul steps up of the only place of worship in town where most of the population attend mass. He is a kind and understanding man who despite being strange and slightly withdrawn truly cares for his community.

SPOILERS FOR MIDNIGHT MASS UNDER THE CUT

This is evident in the fact that on a trip to Israel to see where Jesus allegedly lived, finding himself lost in the desert, where he came upon a cave. In that cave he was met with a creature that in all his years of holiness he interpreted as an angel, especially when the creature fed him it's blood after drinking some of his, bringing the old man back to how his body and mind were in his mid thirties. Knowing that the angel could help the people suffering on the island he had called home for the last 50 years of his life, he took on the false name of Paul Hill and took the supposed angel with him back home where he regained the mantle of the leader of the small community's church.

His goal is to help those in the community, to heal their bodies and minds just as he has been healed by giving them some of the angel's blood in the communion wine, functionally making a town of almost vampires who need only to die to be reborn into their ideal, vampiric lives. Paul truly believes that he can make the lives of all of these people better