Toulouseluce



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  1. Public Bookmark 22

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    07 Jun 2026

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    The understanding is this: when Armand and Lestat misbehave, Daniel and Louis get to enjoy themselves together—while telepathically telling each other's maker all about it.

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    07 Jun 2026

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    “Armand?” Lestat looks at him very seriously, then. “He has neglected you?”

    Daniel laughs, though there isn’t much humor in it. “That’s one fuckin’ word for it, sure.”

    “Oh, mon ami.” Lestat’s eyes are round and wet like an animal’s. “A prize such as yourself does not deserve this terrible treatment.”

    He shrugs. “You get used to it.”

    No.” Lestat grabs one of Daniel’s hands in both of his own, making such intense eye contact with the journalist that it starts to grow uncomfortable. “You deserve better. You must understand this.”

    “Okay,” Daniel agrees, shifting a little in his seat. Anything to move past this point in the interaction. “I deserve better.”

    “Good,” Lestat says, nodding resolutely to himself. “This is why you should let me fuck you.”

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    07 Jun 2026

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    Armand thinks himself great at first impressions. He ought to be, having spent so many years twisting himself into whatever form most pleases.

    But when he met Daniel, he had already shattered into the pieces of himself that are loud, insincere, cruel. The pieces that are not worth loving, some part of his mind whispers, in a voice that could belong to Louis or to Lestat or to any number of others whom he has tried to fit inside of himself and keep, an endeavor which has only ever ended in the same blistering disappointment.

    And now—as he is sitting in the wreckage of another failed attempt at shaping himself into a home, covered in plaster dust from an outburst of rage only a fraction as bright as that which he deserved—now all there is left in front of him is Daniel.

    Armand, Daniel, and the monsters memory makes of us.

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    06 Jun 2026

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    —if there’s an antennae or something I have to fucking adjust but, Louis de Pointe du Lac please tell me you can fucking hear this—

    Louis is too shocked to respond immediately. The voice is faint, but it’s not hard to extrapolate when he’d been listening to it dissect his entire undeath for the more tumultuous part of the past month. All he can blurt, both out loud and through the connection, is, “Daniel?”. Lestat squawks something from the shower.

    Thank fuck, Daniel answers, bright with relief. Then a moment of long silence.

     

    So. Slight, uh. Hiccup.

     

    Louis takes the confirmation with all the grace of a brick shattering through a window. “No,” he says, “no, he didn’t.”

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    05 Jun 2026