As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)
Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.
No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.
No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.
Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.
Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.
His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.
All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.
The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.
One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.
It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.
The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.
That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.
It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.
Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.
Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.
Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.
Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.
He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.
In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.
The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.
It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.
That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.
It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.
The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.
It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.
The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.
Lazarus pit green.
It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.
As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.
Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.
He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.
That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.
Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.
Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.
Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.
544 notes
·
View notes
my little scaredy cat
request: [anon] i would love to see watching horror movies with best friend!eddie and reader instinctively grabs his arm and hides herself against him and it leads to feelings and confessions haha
warnings: none! except it's unedited, which would be scary if that wasn't 90% of my writing on here lmao
pairing: eddie x fem!reader
wc: 3.1k+
i had a lot of fun busting this one out. it's just so cute and certainly how i wish i was spending my halloween! also, rest assured, i am also eyeing the other request you submitting anon. <3 happy haunting, my friends.
This was such a stupid idea. Such a stupid, stupid idea.
You’ve always been a scaredy cat. Everyone in your friend group was well aware of it – you loved the idea of Halloween, but your poor heart just couldn’t take most of the frights that came with the eccentric holiday.
It was fine, most of the time. If anyone had the urge to plan out a day at a pumpkin patch, you were eagerly accepting the invitation. If anyone wanted to bake any sort of sweet treats laced with pumpkin spice or caramel apple flavor profiles, you were already in your car and armed with the perfect recipe to help them. Someone wanted to peruse the decoration aisles of various stores? Wait no more, the perfect shopping buddy could be found in you. You, who could handle most of the trivial and sweet aspects of the holiday. You, who divulged in the more aesthetic side of it all rather than the scary side of it.
Your distaste of being jumpscared or unnerved by gore and ghouls alike only really caused issues when it came to your best friend, Eddie Munson.
His taste in experience of the frightful time of year was entirely the opposite of yours. It’s not that he didn’t like decorating caramel apples with you or that he didn’t find your choice in decorations cute, because he did. But he liked the terrifying aspect of it all – he liked the adrenaline rush of fictional danger.
And friendship, in all its glory, is about give and take, is it not?
Compromise. That’s what he called it when he’d begged and pleaded for you to join him in a movie night. Because the moment the suggestion fell from his lips, you both knew he had no intentions of watching one of your usual festive movies that only teased about the creatures that crept through the night. PG-13 films that didn’t really do it for him. No, Eddie Munson had insisted you join him for a movie night, and you both knew exactly what kind of movie he intended to play.
You just hadn’t anticipated the scariest fucking movie you’d ever endured for the boy beside you on the couch.
“Shit!”
Your squeak is muffled over by the crescendo of creepy instrumental echoing from the small TV across the room. A cycle had quickly been found during this movie night; the movie would fall eerily silent as a tense scene arrived, you’d tense every single muscle so hard that Eddie could feel you shaking from the other side of the couch, and then once the jumpscare occurred and your small squeals were let out involuntarily, his own laughter would follow.
“Oh, come on,” he coos a little, leaning closer to the middle of the couch, still a fair distance away from your figure bundled up in blankets that were being used more as shields than anything at this point, “That one wasn’t even that bad!”
“To you!” you snap, yanking the fabric back down from your eyes only to glare at Eddie rather than look at whatever grotesque was plaguing the screen, “I’m a scaredy cat, remember?”
And oh, remember he does. In all your years of friendship, Eddie had called you that nickname more times than either of you could count. He never meant it with ill will, but it was easier to tease you than to admit just how adorable he found your small reactions.
Easier to tease than to admit just how badly he wishes you would seek protection or refuge from him during the scares he put you through.
His face falls slightly, but he doesn’t let his small grin slip up, not wanting to give himself or his twinge of guilt away, “I’m sorry, kitty cat. C’mere – I can protect you from all the big bad monsters-”
Eddie’s opened arms are only met with one of the pillows you’d stolen off his bed to make the couch more comfortable. It smacks into the center of his chest with deadly aim and ferocious power, making him let out an exaggerated oomph.
“Fuck you,” you grumble, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders now that the scare had passed. You almost tack on a comment about how he’s lucky you like him, because you would never endure this for anyone else.
Robin had tried. Steve had tried. Nancy had tried. They’d all tried to entice you in the scarier, classic Halloween experiences to no avail. Every offer of going to a haunted house, or attending the premiere of the newest horror movies at the local theater, were shot down before they even finished their sentences.
Only one person could break your staunch demeanor on your limits. And right now, you sort of hated his guts.
Eddie softens a bit, watching the way you pout and curl into yourself just a little tighter.
“Sweetheart,” he finally drops the cool guy demeanor, his voice gentle as he leans over with genuine concern, “We can turn it off, if you really want. Hell, if you want me to, I’ll put on something in your taste. Little Shop of Horrors, or maybe Beetlejuice? Those don’t usually scare you.”
The offer is enticing. But you have a point to prove.
“No,” you sit up a little straighter, square your shoulders with a little more defiance and faux bravery, “No, you wanted to watch…”
You pause, and Eddie smiles softly as he supplies the title of his film of choice, “Poltergeist.”
“Right, yes, Poltergeist. You wanted to watch it, so we’re gonna watch it.”
Your stubbornness is admirable.
Even when it falters. Even when another jumpscare has you ever so slightly scooching towards the center of the couch, no longer pressed to the opposite arm from Eddie in defiance. Even when Eddie spreads his legs casually, and you bump your knee into his thigh, the slightest touch bringing immense comfort.
Once you discover that, it all seems downhill from there.
A press of a knee against the side of his thigh turns into your side brushing his. Suddenly, the blanket you’d wielded like a weapon becomes shared. Moments where you try to hold up a barrier between your eyes and the screen cause slight disturbances in Eddie’s own vision. And then, it happens.
The thing he’d been diabolically planning for years. The one scenario he’d dreamt of every Halloween season, the one intention he’d held secretly every time he’d put your through endless scares.
The one touch that could send him into cardiac arrest.
He almost missed it, it happens so suddenly. One moment, you’re just curling up a little bit closer to him. The next, your arms fully wiggly their way around his bicep, capturing his arm in your grasp as your face buries into his shoulder. He can no longer smell the buttery popcorn or faint chocolate on his breath as you invade his space. It’s all sweet shampoo and subtle perfume that tickles his nose, skin against skin in a quick flush as he can hear the vibrations of your predictable scream against the fabric of his shirt.
You hardly seem to notice the sudden entanglement of your bodies in all your fear — your knees practically in his lap and your torso clinging onto his forearm for dear life. You’re acting on instinct, seeking out humane comfort without considering what you were doing.
When you do notice, you don’t let go, only slacken your grip.
“Oh, I-“ you stutter, pulling back slightly to look up at a stunned Eddie, “I’m sorry, that’s- I just- I was scared and-“
“It’s fine,” he cuts you off, eyes blown wide, “It’s… it’s fine.”
It’s more than fine.
His heart races in a way no horror movie or haunted house could incite. Every nerve ending tingles, everywhere his body connects to yours burning in delicious warmth. He wants to spend an eternity like this — you, curled up to him, clinging to him like your holy savior.
Years, and years, and years of wait pays off. Patience is surely virtue as those big eyes of yours look into his.
After a couple awkward beats of silence, you whisper, “I don’t think I like Poltergeist.”
Just like that, you have him laughing again. It’s slow and steady, a gentle chuckle that stirs from his chest in disbelief as he tries to thaw from his shock and yearning.
“You think?” he breathes out, tone not nearly teasing enough to cover up the shakiness.
He swears he can feel your heart pounding against his shoulder.
“Don’t be mean,” you start to scowl, slowly unfurling. But he stops you — angles his arm so you can’t slip your arms away as easily as before, tilting his head in closer.
“Mean? I could never be mean to you, my little scaredy cat.”
“You’re literally being mean as we speak-“
And so, he decides to stop speaking.
It’s impulsive and an even dumber idea than you enduring such a scary movie to be around him. But you look so fucking cute, his heart is tearing up his throat, and suddenly his lips are on yours in his largest spurt of bravery to date. Even more brave than the time he’d made himself a human shield between you and that dude with a chainsaw at the local haunted house, despite the way chainsaws actually kind of made him shit himself.
You don’t fully reciprocate at first. His lips are pressed hard against yours, tips of noses crushed and eyes fluttered shut, and he starts to believe he’s made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake that just washed years of friendship down the drain.
Until your hands tighten on his bicep. Until that soft squeeze comes, and it feels like he can breathe again despite sharing the air with you.
He breaks away for just a second, “I-“
“Don’t be mean,” you repeat your earlier words with entirely new meaning now. He opens his eyes and finds yours already pleading up at his face, glossy and desperate, movie forgotten.
Those hands once squeezing his bicep let go and move to the collar of his t-shirt. Normally, he’d make a comment about you stretching it out, deforming the perfect fit that took him ages to wear in, but he can’t be bothered to feel anything but delight when you’re tugging him back in for another kiss.
And the last thing he wants to be is mean. So he kisses you kindly, kisses you with all the care in the world that he had buried beneath his skin since the day he met you. Kisses you like it could scare away all the monsters that wait in the shadows. Like he’d lay down his life to protect you from the very frights he’d been subjecting you to for far too long now.
“Hey,” he mumbles, pulling back briefly, “Hey.”
This time, his forehead doesn’t leave yours as he pauses the kisses.
“God, Munson, I’ve waited for this God knows how long, sat through so many fucking scary movies, and you’re really going to-“
“Hold on, what?”
He’s grinning so hard, it aches. In his cheeks, in his chest, in the back of his head. Your words sink in and he relishes each syllable, even in your frustration.
“I- Uh,” you pull back suddenly, fingers still loosely tangled in his t-shirt, “I-“
“Enlighten me, sweetheart,” he insists, eyes finally fluttering back open to catch the embarrassment painted plainly across your face. You wear a nearly painful expression that only tightens as you know he’s watching you, “Just how many scary movies have you sat through wanting me to kiss you?”
“Fuck off,” you sigh out, shaking your head a little, “I mean it. Fuck right off-“
“Cause I could probably give a ballpark number for how many times I’ve wanted to kiss you during them,” he continues on quickly, “Actually, I bet I could count how many times I suggested watching these fuckin’ films just for this moment only to chicken out.”
Your eyes are open again in an instant. Sparkling with hope and realization of what he was getting at. “Excuse me?”
“Do you really think I’m that mean?” he scoffs, finally reaching up for your hands, surprisingly calm despite the delightful storm wreaking havoc in his chest. He takes your knuckles in his and lets his thumb trail right over them, “No offense, but if I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have-“
“You like me?”
Your voice is sweet as honey, bright and drowning out the horror movie still playing.
He smiles, boyish glint and all, as he confirms, “I like you.”
You put the first real amount of distance between the two of you since you’d started to cling to him out of fear, almost as if signaling that bravery beginning to bubble over in your chest, “You actually like me?”
“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”
“No, I- Well, maybe,” you bite your lip, and he’s suddenly dizzy with the need to capture it between his own teeth, “I just… I always thought you might like someone a little braver.”
His nose wrinkles, hands still twisting yours in his, “Excuse me? I think you’re plenty brave.”
“Eddie, you’ve said it yourself, I’m a goddamn scaredy cat.”
“So?”
“So,” you persist, shuffling so that your legs fold beneath you and you gain some leverage over him, “You’re the exact opposite. You love scary things. Not even just during Halloween, but year round. And you’re telling me you like me even though I’m a scaredy cat.”
“I like you because you’re a scaredy cat, thank you very much,” he corrects you immediately, “I love the way you always need me to protect you. I know, I know — not very feminist of me. I’m sorry. It’s just- it’s really fuckin’ cute, y’know?” now that his floodgates have opened, he’s pouring out all the words he’s held back for so long, “And besides, you’re more than just a scaredy cat. You’re also so smart, so beautiful, so funny. Yeah, you scare easily, but you’re also the same person who is the first to put me in my place when I’m being an absolute little shit. And don’t even get me started on all the cute faces you make when you’re talking about things you actually like, or when you’ve been baking with Nance and have flour all over your cheeks-“
“Okay, okay,” you stop his rambling before he can embarrass you any further. Any more affection, and your face might end up buried in his shoulder again, “I get it. You like me.”
It’s quiet for a few moments. The two of you only stare, both smiling stupid, the screams of whatever climax occurring in the movie not even reaching your ears. All you can hear is the echo of his words, of his admission. And all he can hear is the pretty way your breath catches when he gives a small squeeze to your palm.
It’s nice. It should be more anxiety inducing, it should be more dramatic. Eddie Munson should be absolutely losing his mind right now because he just kissed his best friend he’s been in love with for ages, but he isn’t. Actually, for the first time in a while, it feels as though he’s finally found it — he’s found his mind, he’s found his peace as he’s staring at your shy expression. It just feels right. Like a sigh of relief from the Universe.
“I like you, too,” you break the silence, unable to meet his gaze, “I mean, you probably already got that, but-“
“Say it again.”
“Huh?”
“I did gather that, but my God, please say it again.”
Your eyes meet him, and another piece clicks into place.
Right. It’s so fucking right.
“I like you,” you repeat yourself, a smile beginning to dance on your lips. He can’t help himself — he leans forward and pecks the corner of your upturned mouth, “I like you,” the repetition is music to his ears as he plants a second kiss on your cheek, “I like you, Munson.”
His peppered kisses mark every inch of skin available to him, making giggles begin to escape you. You even try to hide from his onslaught, but it’s no use. He’s quick to drop your hands and wrap his arms around you, tugging you in close and trapping you against him as each kiss grows more obnoxious. Loud smacking sounds, deliberately leaving spit behind that has you squealing. It’s nothing like the squeaks from when you were watching the movie; these small noises are filled with a little more joy, a little more happiness that only fuels Eddie.
“Eddie!” you try to scold, placing two hands on his solid chest, “Oh my God, stop it. You’re gross.”
“You love it,” he mutters with his mouth fully pressed to your temple, nose buried in your hair. That sweet, sweet shampoo intoxicating him.
You like him. He didn’t fuck it up.
You finally go slack in his touch, succumbing and letting him place you in his lap, curled up comfortably as you sigh, “Yeah. Okay, maybe I do. Whatever.”
“Oh, don’t act all tough now, kitty cat.”
Your hands are curled back in the fabric against his chest and you share the wonderful ache he had been feeling in his own cheeks and bones as you look down at him with playfully squinted eyes.
When he ducks down for another kiss, you stop him easily, “Nope. First, I have a request.”
“Anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything. Name it, and it’s yours.”
“Please turn off that goddamn movie.”
He throws his head back in laughter that shoots straight for your heart. The kind of laughter that haunts a chilled autumn night as children prance the streets for candy, as teenagers get into mischief in distant bonfire parties, as elderly couples enjoy morning coffees over eerie fog.
It kind of feels like home. It kind of feels like everything is as it should be, finally.
“I suppose I can do that for you, my little scaredy cat,” he muses as his head tilts back forward, chest swelling with affection, “Besides, I think I know something we can do that’s a little more fun than watching the Poltergeist.”
“Oh, yeah? And what would that be?”
His arms tighten around you as he suddenly throws the two of you to lay down on the couch, his body hovering over yours and pick necklace nipping at your chin while he reaches out to click off the TV. The weight of him between your hips feels even better than either of your wildest dreams.
Years. You couldn’t believe it had taken years for this, and neither could he. But patience is virtue, and he probably would have waited another thousand years for this feeling, truth be told.
“This,” he says boldly once the TV buzzes in sudden silence, dipping down and continuing where the two of you left off. Two sets of lips fit together like the world’s easiest jigsaw puzzle.
It’s safe to say the rest of the night, any further squeaks and squeals you let out aren’t due to ghosts.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @gagasbee @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n
707 notes
·
View notes
My main Devil's Minion theory for the finale, taking into account both the show so far and parts of the books, is this:
Armand has been giving Daniel his blood (in his drinks, in his food, in his IV drip) to cure his Parkinson's. But, without realizing, it caused secondary effect he didn't expect: the blood is what helped Daniel remember what happened in San Francisco. And will continue to help him remember more and more as time goes by. Perhaps do even more than that in season 3.
Leaving the long ass explanation as to why I think this could be it along with heavy book spoilers:
To me, one of the biggest clues for this is that Daniel does not remember anything about the first interview beyond the moment Louis invites him to his place (Daniel says he always wakes up at that moment anytime he thinks about it), which is the exact moment when Armand appears.
He does not remmeber him this until he goes to Dubai and is around Armand for the first time in decades.
Daniel's answer about him "waking up" at that point everytime indicates he has tried to remember that day all these years but he never could go beyond that point. And I don't think that talking about it with Louis is what made the memoris return.
The first time Daniel sees Armand in the dream after all these years, is the exact same day that he gets his levodopa transfusion. That night, after he falls asleep on the couch, he sees Armand arrive at the bar and from then on he continues remembering more and more details.
This ties back to the books, since in Queen of the Damned and more so in the Devil's Minion chapter we find out in the 70s-80s Armand used to feed Daniel his blood. Since the first time Armand feeds Daniel, he has visions. It creates a connection between him and Armand but later on also allows him to have very vivid dreams and have visions that only vampires should be seeing.
It's an established canon detail that consuming Armand's blood as a human makes Daniel have dreams/visions related to Armand and other vampires.
We still don't if DM's happened as it did in the books (at least the part about his 12 year relationship with Armand, since he ofc never got turned in his 30s), but there is a clear connection with the book.
In the show, he shouldn't be dreaming and remembering Armand in the first interview, since Armand erased his memory with his mind gift. Armand is a really old vampire, he has Marius' blood, his erasing of Daniel's memory should not have stopped working randomly.
And I don't think is random, I think it's happening because of the vampire blood is mixing with his medicine and food. It's making him remember and see things he once forgot since the mix is not only curing him, it's taking down the walls Armand himself put in his brain.
I don't think this is what Armand intended, it can be a secondary reaction he didn't anticipate.
Why the mix works on Daniel in particular? Could be any reason they want: Armand's blood is that powerful since he's ancient, it works because Daniel used to drink his blood in the 80s so his body is used to it and now mixing medicine with said blood has a reaction it never has with anyone else, it works because it's mixed with this particular medicine, etc. They can go with many options here and change it depending on what they decide for DM's in the 80s.
Now, another reason why I'm suspicious about the blood-in-medicine bit is another spoiler from the books: Doctor Fareed is actually a vampire. Not only that, he and his immortal companion and maker (Seth) develop medical science on vampires. Additionally, they run a clinic for the treatment of mortals, particullarly for incurable medical conditions. Parkinson's is incurable.
To me it's not too far fetched that Armand has asked Fareed this favor, of mixing the levodopa with his blood.
What vampire blood can do in the books isn't really a deus ex maquina, since it has it's limitations and it doesn't seem like it could be so potent it can cure every human condition ever and recover vampires from all injuries, but the show has not followed 1:1 all the rules from Vampire Chronicles either. Armand being immune to the sun being one of them, and it's a pretty important one, yet they added that right in.
This doesn't have to mean that vampires could now cure all incurable condutions with ancient vampire blood. It could be only Daniel: because he had it before in the 80s and formed a connection to Armand, or maybe because it's Armand's blood in particular (and he's not interested in helping anyone else lol.)
Transfusion aside, we now have the hint that Daniel likes his martinis better when Armand makes them. Because Armand puts more vermouth in them. Per Armand himself, Lestat tasted "like vermouth and annihilation". Could it be that vermouth is just generally what vampire blood tastes like?
Daniel could like the taste of Armand's drinks because they had traces of his blood in season 1. Armand could know how to make them perfectly because he remembers how Daniel likes them (maybe he used to add the blood as an ingredient just for the taste back in the day lol, since Daniel liked it so much.)
There are other scenes where we see Daniel asking "Rashid" personally for a refill of what looks like wine in one episode. And Armand does grab the cup to bring him more. We see him making Daniel a martini in another scene in particular, when Louis tells him "he's lingering."
Daniel having different drinks, courses of food, more drinks, dessert, it's shown many times in the first season and Armand is always around.
Perhaps Armand saw that only feeding Daniel his blood wasn't doing much and that's when he decides to go with the IV drip. More direct method, straight to Daniel's veins. As soon as he does, Daniel starts to remember.
Being "Rashid" is what gave Armand this advantage, since it would have been suspicious to have an ancient vampire who supposely "doesn't know Daniel", making him martinis and bringing him drinks, keeping tabs on his medical treatments and scheduling him a doctor.
But as a supposed member of the staff and pseudo asistent, Daniel thought it was kinda normal that Armand was doing these things for him.
And why would Armand want to help Daniel? There's a couple of options to choose from:
DM's did happen in the 80s and he still cares for Daniel, loves him even:
It's important to note that one of Armand's big hopes when he's with Daniel is for Daniel to grow old. Armand wanted him to live his mortal life and mature, experience life as a human to its fullest. Daniel would argue and constantly try to push Armand to turn him when he was "still young". (Also motivated by Armand's own looks, he wanted to be with Armand as an immortal and also appear young next to Armand.) But for Armand, what was important was Daniel living his human life, as he would love him regardless of his physical age. Not to mention Armand is sure the maker-fledgling bond is destined to fail, and all fledglings will eventually resent their makers, he doens't want Daniel to hate him and end their relationship. Daniel argues that as a human he could die at any moment, as a vampire he can be strong like Armand, he doesn't have to worry about protecting him, and they can be together forever, young and now. This causes tons of fights between them.
The show has actually given Armand what he wanted in the books, and it's Daniel growing old.
In the show, he made Daniel forget their relationship when they reached the impass of Daniel wanting to let himself die on purpose so Armand would have no option but to turn him. Armand, not wanting to take Daniel's life away, erases his memory to protect Daniel and let him have a normal life. (There's also the theory that erasing so much, 12 years, out of Daniel's mind is what have him parkinson's eventually.)
Additionally, per the books, Armand was correct and once he turns Daniel he starts to resent him as his maker and they break up for a while. Armand knows Daniel is strong and can take care of himself, so he doesn't force him to stay. But Daniel loses his mind while being away from Armand (Armand doesn't know this), ends in the care of Marius of all people, but eventually Armand goes looking for him and Daniel becomes his immortal companion once more, choosing him over Marius. Daniel and Armand end up together as endgame. I think the show has changed the time Daniel spends with Marius, and has instead made the breakup happen between them from the 80s to the current timeline, by the means of Armand never turning him and erasing his memory instead.
DM didn't happen:
Let's say DM has not been a thing so far (but with all the looks between Armandaniel and all the devil minion's easter eggs they have put in these 2 seasons, I doubt it. But hey let's consider!)
Louis said Daniel was a testament of their relationship enduring. Armand is currently desperate to save it, so he's saving Daniel to somehow show and hint to Louis their relationship should too.
Daniel can't die when Armand knows his relationship with Louis is deteriorating, it could be taken almost as a sign that is time to end their relationship as well.
In this scenario, I imagine DM's happens after Dubai. Louis and Armand break up, Armand follows Daniel because he blames him for he breakup (since he opened cracks in their relationship) and is when he tells Daniel to keep him entertained or he will kill him, starts stalking him, etc.
This also makes sense because originally, Armand starts stalking Daniel in a time period he and Louis have broken up.
Extra: Does Louis know of Armand's plans?
Unclear to me. I think it could go either way. Armand is so good at making plans and knitting webs to get wat he hopes/wishes for, he could be doing the entire thing without letting Louis know, going along with the interview because he has other interests for having Daniel close. At the same time, I think Louis wouldn't mind helping Daniel stay alive so he can live longer, publish the book, and I think he considers Daniel a friend. He even offers him the dark gift at one point in the 1st season. But does Louis know of the time Armand spend with Daniel if DM's happened? We'll see.
Finally, I believe this leaves them with many options for season 2:
Does Daniel start to get addicted to the blood? Does he need to keep consuming it to continue to get better? Will consuming it more and more cause for more memories of Armand to return?
Not only that, he can start having visions that directly connect "The Vampire Lestat" with the main plot of "Queen of the Damned". He can be the one to start seeing what Akasha is planning.
The actor for doctor Fareed is going to appear again in season 3. I think that's particular. Even if he's a vampire, he doesn't appear until way later in the books and so far he has only appeared for Daniel's sake. He could be continuing his treatment, giving him more of Armand's blood, and in season 3 Daniel could keep on remembering more and more about Armand or start to form a connection with him because now he needs his blood to stay/get better, but that connection could lead to many other feelings and situations.
That's what I think so far.
I'm more inclined to believe DM's did happen in the 80s, since there have been many clues scattered around these two seasons, but even if they decide to make DM's happen in the current timeline, the blood-feeding could still make sense to me.
But hey, there's also the option that DM did happen, but something health related affects Daniel and Armand sees himself forced to turn Daniel into a vampire in the season finale, since he cannot live with the idea of Daniel dying. Which is why he was maybe giving him his blood in the first place. Having fed him his blood before (and now) could affect how Daniel behaves as a vampire.
And hey, if all this is for nothing and Armand never gave him his blood and I'm fully delusional 🤡, then I guess I'll use it for a fic or something hahaha since I think it makes sense to me anyway lmao.
One way or another tho, there are enough hints for Armandaniel to come to usssss in season 3 FOR SURE.
73 notes
·
View notes