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#i apologize for typos i'm on tumblr to stay awake rn
hekateinhell · 1 year
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7 and/or 18 đź’–
7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?
answered here!
18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.
This was one of the ones I was scared to get lol but I'll try! Don't get me wrong, flattery gets you everywhere with me but actually picking out something that *I* like from my own fics? Can't think of a thing tbh, so I went with the scene that's been the hardest one for me to write so far - just because the content is pretty heavy (for me), and it took a few changes and rewrites to get to where I was satisfied with it as a plot device.
(Our House, Chapter 3 spoilers)
Armand and a girl; maybe seventeen, eighteen years old. Beautiful, high Slavic cheekbones, smudged eyeliner accenting her light blue eyes, dark hair. Armand halfway behind her, his hands cupping her bare tits, fake vampire fangs in his mouth, his head turned slightly to mimic biting her throat.
"Eleni," Armand said.
And Lestat, he's there too. He's taking the selfie, pupils blown wide, his cheek pressed to the girl's head, blond hair everywhere, an arm going around her head to rest his hand on Armand's shoulder. Not inherently sexual, more familial than anything, the three of them laughing; a teen's photo for fun and mild shock value.
[So this was where I had to decide how exactly I wanted Armand to present the history of his relationships with his ex-girlfriend and Lestat to Daniel. We get a bit more from Armand's POV later, but it doesn't really expand beyond what we're shown here. This is what's relevant to Armand right now, and this is what he wants Daniel to know. The rest will come later (when I decide what the hell "the rest" is). One of the best writing tips a friend gave me is: even if you're writing from just one person's POV, you need to know what the other people in the scene are thinking.]
Armand passed the phone to him wordlessly, mentally checking out. Daniel could see it in the dimness of his eyes, in the tiredness of his shoulders. Emotional or chemical—something drug-induced? Daniel had no way of knowing.
[Concerned Husband Danny is my fave, this was one of his times to shine. I wanted to make sure he's hyperaware of Armand right now, not taking his eyes off him for a second.]
"Just like Paris."
"She's pregnant here," Armand reached up and tapped the screen. And, dear God, was that a great distraction or what?
[Oh shit! moment, hopefully for the reader and Daniel both.]
"Really?" Yours? went unsaid. Armand heard it anyway.
He nodded, barely. "We were so young... Just reckless, stupid street kids that had no way of knowing better. But I loved her, and she loved me."
[It was important to me that it's clear Eleni was a meaningful and formative romantic relationship in Armand's life, even though he's older and married to a man now. He's bisexual, and Eleni was truly his first love.]
"Is she still in France?" Daniel asked, perpetually curious to a fault. It was the reporter in him. He was an intelligent man, he'd already figured out the loaded implications behind a child Armand never mentioned to him before. Abortion, most likely, given how young they both looked.
"Eleni?" Armand arched an eyebrow, as if they'd been talking about anyone else.
Daniel nodded.
"Yeah. Yeah, she is," Armand smiled in the empty way some people have a tendency to do, "Cimetière des Innocents.”
[My baby boy is broken inside, and I needed y'all to know that. Also, Les Innocents name-drop!]
Damn. "I'm sorry, love." It seemed to Daniel he was saying that a lot lately.
[By this point, it's already been a couple months of drama, and Daniel's gotten one bombshell aside from this one dropped on his head tonight. He's a saint of a man, but every person has a limit before they start burning out and idk if y'all noticed... but Armand in this fic... he's a lot, okay?]
Armand sighed, "Do you know what she said?"
Rhetorical question, and he continued, "She said it was a miracle, that it was God himself giving us a second chance. Telling us to clean up our act, get clean, find other ways to survive, to provide. And I believed it too."
[This part was weird for me because I was trying to tap into what a girl who'd been raised with a Catholic mentality might think. I never said Catholic, but clearly, she was religious to quite a degree and my mind went to Catholic. Kind of trying to channel the CoD fervor into something else here, and also pull stuff from my own life experiences.]
He sighed again, "We were just kids." Armand looked and sounded a lot like a kid just then.
He took a minute to lean against Daniel's arm, playing with the zipper on Daniel's hoodie. Up and down, up and down. Zip, zip, zip. "Well, I guess God changed his mind."
[I feel like Armand is such a classic C-PTSD case in almost every universe I write him. I mean- he is in canon! And reverting to child-like comforting behaviors when confronted with a stressor/trigger can sometimes be part of that, so I tried to have it come out here - as well as emphasize the fact that he feels secure enough around Daniel to act that way in front of him in the first place, instead of retreating into himself and/or masking.]
Daniel gently massaged the spot below Armand's ear, silently urging him to continue.
"The week she was supposed to give birth; it was June, it was so hot already. She went to see her father. She said she wanted him to know, the man who had abandoned his daughter to chase the drink. Oh, he was furious. The neighbors heard him screaming—calling her a whore, a sinner, a useless junkie."
[This one was hard, and unfortunately, it's a common enough scenario in real life. Some children just are unwanted and unloved, and they're treated that way. Definitely hurt to write.]
Armand paused for a breath, letting his head loll against Daniel's shoulder, pressed his face against Daniel's neck as if he wanted to feel his pulse against his skin. "He pushed her down a flight of cement stairs. She hit her head, Danny."
[Originally, I was going to have Eleni die by suicide after having a miscarriage, but just seemed much more potentially triggering to an audience since miscarriages are something many people do experience (though I definitely do tag). Ultimately, I just didn't think it was necessary to go that route to achieve a similar impact. As a writer, this one almost hurts me more because the difference is that in this version, she was excited for her baby and her future with Armand, their little family. She wanted to live!]
Daniel wrapped an arm around Armand's chest and pulled him close, tight enough to hurt. Not lovingly, to comfort, but with the instinctual urge to get him out of harm's way, too many years too late.
And now Daniel knew, or at least he thought did—the reason, or a reason, why. 
A reason Armand had taken such a keen, uncharacteristic interest in the preparations for Lestat and Louis's daughter.
A reason why "introducing" Armand and Lestat had had an outcome akin to throwing a jungle cat and a rabid dog together in a cardboard box. 
A reason behind Lestat and Armand playing Russian roulette now, as Daniel understood it. Using the needle to simultaneously reconjure and numb the memories of who they’d been once upon a time—Lestat, without expectations and responsibilities, wild and free; Armand, about to have a family for the first time in his tragic life, in the worst circumstances possible. 
And, finally, the reason Armand seemingly lost his mind and started begging him for a baby one arbitrary evening in June, out of the clear blue fucking sky.
[Listen... this fic was originally going to be a fluffy, mildly hurt/comfort two chapters. Suddenly, I had to come up with a decent enough reason for Armand to be going off the rails. This is what my brain gave me.]
Armand sat up and reached for the phone in Daniel’s hand, swiping to the left and handing it back to him.
"My only blood family," Armand murmured, touching a blurry ultrasound image on the screen that didn't especially look like anything at all. "A little girl," he smiled, sweet and subdued, the glow remerging only to fade from his eyes, confirming what he knew Daniel had already deduced, “who died along with her mother.”
[Can't lie, this is the one and only time I have ever cried over anything I wrote. I imagined what the baby looked like, if Armand ever got to see her or hold her. I named her. I'm so sad lmao I'm so sorry to end on this note. But this was actually interesting to remember, and I miss this fic in a way I haven't in a while, so thanks for the opportunity to ramble about myself I guess!]
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