I've never made a post since joining Tumblr several years ago. I don't even know if anyone will actually see this, considering I don't have many followers(?)/friends here, but I've been wanting to get these thoughts out, so...
Here are a few of my thoughts about Devil's Minion this season.
There's been a lot of discussion about Daniel and Armand's dynamic and where their individual journeys—and their relationship—might be headed over the next few seasons. I've ended up with a couple of theories of my own.
Before I get into that, though, a small disclaimer: I'm genuinely exhausted by the negativity that's taken over part of this fandom. It hangs over everything like an oil slick on what could otherwise be perfectly clear water. Sure, there are ripples. I'm the first to admit that some directing and stylistic choices could have made Season 3 stronger. But that doesn't justify the endless doomposting and the relentless criticism of every. single. thing. If your favorite hobby is sucking the joy and creativity out of other people's excitement, please log off and go touch some grass. Thanks.
Now, onto the topic that's been worrying so many people: the idea that Armand's feelings for Daniel are one-sided.
Guys... no. Just no. And I think the show makes that pretty obvious.
From Daniel's perspective:
- There's an incredibly unique Maker/Fledgling bond between them. It honestly reminds me of Muirn Beatha Dàn, the Gaelic expression describing two souls bound together. Neither the books nor the show give any other Maker and Fledgling such a visceral, deeply personal connection.
- Then there's Daniel's inexplicable sense of longing and need whenever it comes to Armand. That's the source of so much of his confusion and discomfort, and it goes far beyond the anger of being abandoned by his Maker. Anger has always been Daniel's oldest friend—his sharpest weapon against fear and against the world itself. What he feels here reminds me much more of saudade: that bittersweet ache for someone who's absent, mixed with the painful awareness that they may never come back. If the Past Devil's Minion theory ends up being true, those feelings would suddenly make perfect sense.
All of that makes it very difficult for me to believe Daniel doesn't return Armand's feelings.
Daniel is overwhelmed. His entire world has collapsed under the weight of several life-changing revelations arriving all at once. But despite that, he's there for Armand. And Armand is there for him.
Now, from Armand's perspective.
People make it sound much more complicated than I think it actually is.
Armand is, at his core, a deeply traumatized young man who's spent centuries learning that horror is answered either with more horror or with self-erasure.
In this version of him, I find it completely believable that his obsession with Daniel started during those six days in San Francisco in 1973.
For seventy-seven years he'd been living on a knife's edge, taking care of Louis while constantly knowing he could be exposed, discarded, or broken all over again at any moment.
Then twenty-year-old Daniel walks into that apartment. Louis gives Daniel something Armand has never truly felt he received himself, despite all the devotion he'd poured into that relationship. Daniel is alive. He's brilliant. His mind runs like a perfectly tuned machine. He refuses to bend easily. Most importantly, he's so wonderfully, ridiculously human.
Daniel's humanity could have been the perfect excuse for Armand to disguise something profound as something harmless. That would also explain why Louis never saw Armand's stories about Daniel as a threat to their relationship over the following fifty years, while Armand himself quietly remained obsessed with him.
Daniel may have become Armand's breath of fresh air—a brief escape between one dishonest obligation and the next.
Let's not forget these three very important points that come from Armand himself:
He specifically says 52 years. That includes the 1970s and 1980s.
He talks about giving Daniel back half of his life and making amends for the harm he's done. What exactly does that mean? What is he supposed to be giving back if, as Episode 5 clearly shows, Daniel remembers the memories Armand brings up in the park perfectly well? And what harm is Armand actually referring to?
Speaking of those memories, why doesn't Armand mention a single moment from Daniel's life before 1990?
So where does that leave us?
Personally, I think this love story is absolutely going to be mutual. Will it be written well? Will it live up to everything we've imagined?
I sincerely hope so. I guess we'll find out around 2028 or 2029.
I honestly don't know where Daniel's story is going.
The simple reality is that Eric Bogosian isn't getting any younger, and neither is Daniel. That's not pessimism, it's just a fact.
Looking back at Seasons 1 and 2, it's obvious he's lost muscle mass, weight, and his hair seems a little whiter every time we see him. I truly wish Eric another hundred years of life, but it's also reasonable to wonder whether age could eventually affect the direction the show takes with Daniel.
I can imagine three possibilities:
- Daniel's arc ends with his death (for good).
- Daniel leaves the story in some other way, with an open ending.
- Daniel's storyline becomes intertwined with Talbot's, allowing him to continue in another body.
That last possibility could either be fascinating... or absolutely terrible.
Since Regina is essentially Claudia's doppelgänger, the writers could use a similar narrative device to let Luke Brandon Field take over from Eric Bogosian. They could invent some completely non-canon magical solution to physically rejuvenate Daniel. They could simply recast him altogether.
Who knows how many other possibilities exist?
Honestly, all of them scare me a little, and I genuinely don't know what outcome I'd want.
I guess we'll just have to wait and see.
One last thought—and maybe it's more of a wish than anything else.
Let the story seduce you.
When it's over—and only when it's over, because this story was never written to provide immediate, exhaustive answers—we can decide whether we loved it or not.