fresh-blue-hell

[fresh-blue-hell]

Imagine Being a Loyal Patron of the Theatre des Vampires and Catching Armand's Attention

Pairing: Armand x Reader

Word Count: 1933

Summary: You visit Theatre des Vampires and you notice things are exactly what they seem. You catch Armand's attention.

For months you had watched Santiago come out on stage and tell everyone what they were about to see was real and that he loved them for it. Every night, audience after audience was splattered with red syrup. Every night ending with a murder, a couple of hundred witnesses none the wiser. Assured by the same man that had previously stated that it was real, now telling them it was fake. Patrons convinced that the victims were part of the cast. Willful denial. 

You had been one of them once. However, you quickly realized you couldn’t fake that kind of terror. The fear that was palpable in the air. The look of impending death. In the end, Santiago had them greeting death like an old friend. It was not natural and you were hooked. 

You started watching the cast more intently. Their eyes were unnatural. The way that Santiago spoke to the victims, still he wasn’t the most interesting theater cast member. Each night he would “fly” up to the catwalk, the man up there never failed to meet your gaze. At first it seemed coincidental, like he was looking in your general direction making it appear as though he was looking at you. Then it didn’t matter where in the audience you were, he found you. You stopped watching the shows. Your eyes searching him out in the darkness. His calling to you. 

You attended every performance for two years. You had learned a few members' names. You had met Sam in the ticket booth; he sold the tickets to the shows he wrote. He always had your stubs waiting for you, the spot expertly tailored to your mood of the day. Each offering a new view of the shows you had memorized. It didn’t matter where you were sitting, you were still in view of him. It was as if Sam could read your mind. 

You had met all of the cast over the years. They were all particularly nice to you. It was hard to tell if it was the frequency of your patronage or if there was something more sinister at foot. After all, you knew they were actively killing people every night. Did they know that you had figured it out? That Theatre des Vampires wasn’t just clever or avant garde? 

Tonight was different. Sam wasn’t alone in the ticket booth. He didn’t have your ticket waiting for you. And as you approached, you were met with four unnaturally alluring eyes. The man for the catwalk.

“Would you accompany me tonight?” no introduction. Just an inquiring look that felt like a challenge. “We mean you no harm.” he softened his approach, likely noting that you shifted your weight towards the door. 

“On the Catwalk?” you were confused. Perhaps there would be a terrible accident resulting in you falling to your death. The only one that could tie the theater to the string of missing persons plaguing Paris.

“Yes, on the catwalk. No, you will not fall to your demise.” He smiled both breathtakingly stunning and terrifying. They knew. You had to realize how monumentally bad this was for you. 

“You never have anyone up there with you, save Santiago occasionally. So, why me?” you weren’t digging your heels in exactly, but you weren’t entirely ready to follow a vampire into the dark without knowing so much as his name. 

“We have been doing this for a hundred years. And no one had figured it out. If they did, they never came back, let alone returning every night.” He looked at you as if you belonged under a microscope, fit for study.

“So am I more of a curiosity or a threat to you?” your posture was as far from at ease as one could get. 

“Neither, Ma Cheri. You are more special than you know,” his eyes looked earnest.”Now, will you join me tonight? Otherwise we have a regular ticket for you.” you wanted nothing more than to say yes. It was an uncontrollable impulse. 

He led you into the theater, through the crowds of patrons and vampires. Celeste eyed you suspiciously. Santiago looked like a cat that was about to eat the canary. You were both mystified and terrified. As you approached the stairs to the catwalk, the actors were now far scarier than you had ever thought them to be. 

“Enjoy the show.” Santiago purred into your ear as you passed him, the hair on the back of your neck stood on end. He who had not yet been named led you up the stairs to the area you would be spectating from.

He stood there in silent appraisal, looking out over a sea of fresh spectators. You sat there appraising him. Even in his outward youth, you could see all of his countless years. You had so many questions but made no move to voice them. He volunteered nothing. 

The show began as it always had. Santiago addressed the audience and started his monologue that wound up with him flying up to the catwalk. This time, when the spotlight shifted, you were in it as well, and you saw something that both blew your mind and completely disarmed you. Santiago was not truly harnessed in. It was clipped to a random loop that looked like it could have been a harness, but in the end you realised that Santiago really was flying about the theater. Your dawning realisation was met with a wink before dropping back down to the stage. Your head was spinning. 

The rest of the play passed in a monotonous blur. You memorized the lines, knew all the queues. The only difference was now you could watch the mystery man up close. He was unmoving. He has a script with him, though he didn’t reference it much. The director?

The night’s victim was brought out and from here you could see the glimmering fangs. The screams echoed up here. The blood that made it onto the stage was visible where you had never seen it before. The body was dropped through a trapdoor and you could see down below the stage. You felt your legs give out. The ringing in your ears overpowered Sanitago’s closing remarks. You never felt the ground. Rather, two strong arms wrapped around you breaking your descent. 

“I told you you wouldn’t fall.” he offered you a soft smile as you fought back the tears of your own panic. You wanted to pull away, You wanted to puke. Too many feelings fighting to be the first released. “I’ll let you go if you promise to stay calm.” You looked at the theater, still full of patrons, and nodded.

“I need air.” you were gasping and your vision was fading to black around the edges. Like a brain shortcircuiting. You were gasping, panicking and grasping at anything to try and stay grounded. As it happened, the only thing for you to cling to had been him. 

“Let’s get you outside.” He helped you down the stairs, all but carrying you. You passed the theater vampires who appeared amused by your reaction to tonight’s show.

“I don’t understand.” you stated once the cool air of the night pricked your skin, reviving you into the nightmare your brain attempted to escape.

“Of course not. You were just faced with the impossible. All of the things you were taught are fiction just became fact.” he shifted away to give you space and was intrigued to see you moved with him, having to be near. 

“Why show me at all?” you looked at him as though this answer would solve all of life’s greatest mysteries. 

“Because you saw and accepted what no one else would. You saw a coven of vampires , pretending to be human, pretending to be vampires and called bullshit. But you kept coming back anyway.” He was the supernatural being, but looked at you as though your existence was the impossible one. “No it’s my turn, why?”

“Ummm,” did you lie and risk him calling you on it or answer honestly?

“Honestly.” he laughed as you jumped. It wasn’t the first time he had done this, but this time it was unnerving. 

“Two reasons I guess. First, I was curious about the impossibility of it all. And then there was you.” you glanced his way to gauge his reaction, but you found none. 

“Me?” It was a mock surprise. “You risked being right and possibly dying for it because of me?” the more he pondered the admission, the more confused he became. Surely he had known what your answer would be, but knowing and understanding did not equate the same thing.

“Yes, I guess so. Though the possibility of death didn’t occur to me until tonight.” he stood there looking at you slack jawed.

“Maybe you are a bit of a curiosity.” he joked, you relaxed.

“Two impossibilities?” You looked at him and made eye contact for the first time. He was saddened that this may not have happened. If only you could have known that Santiago had been the first to realise you knew. It had taken Him and Sam both to stop Santiago from following you home that night and draining you. 

“My name is Armand.” he offered, still searching your eyes for a flicker of home. “I have a question, if you’d permit me.” he looked so young, your heart felt like goo in your chest. You nodded for him to continue. “Would you ever consider joining me?” he looked slightly to your side, breaking eye contact.

“For a show or joining you more definitely?” Big difference.

“As my companion. You’ve called to me every night just as I have called to you.” he returned to your gaze.

“What does it mean to be a vampire’s companion?” even the world felt supernatural.

“The closest thing humans have is a spouse. Though a companion is far more than that. The life of a vampire is a lonely one. A companion is a shelter from that loneliness. A comfort in the dark painful existence.” for the hundredth time tonight you asked yourself why you. You hardly felt qualified for the task, though you understood the loneliness Armand described. 

“I do not wish to rob you of your mortality. I only long for your companionship for as long as you'll grant me.” It wasn't as if you had anything to lose. You had your flat and your own suffocating loneliness. 

“I accept. I will join you as your companion along with everything that comes with it.” maybe you were signing your own death warrant, but you quickly realized that you  didn’t care. “How does this work?” Armand closed the miniscule distance between you until your noses were touching. 

“However, you are comfortable.” he smiled as he stroked your hair. “But first, there is one thing you have to see.” He stepped back from you far enough for you to see his whole face. Out of nowhere, two sharp fangs appeared. 

Your response was unexpected. You pulled him in for a kiss, fangs bared and all. And he let you. 

“I agreed to be a vampire’s companion and you thought that your fangs were going to be the deal breaker?” you giggled and he just shook his head at you. Taken by the complex little creature you were. “I do have one question.”

“Anything.” he looked at you like you were the entire galaxy.

“Your place or mine?” you found yourself in a strange apartment before the syllable died on your lips. “Yours I guess.” You answered your own question.

[fresh-blue-hell]

you know a fic is good when it has this

[fresh-blue-hell]

that half-blank, half-apocalyptic look

"i can b ur angle or yuor devil" etc etc "get a man who can do both" etc etc

obsessed with this vamp i think he should get to do whatever he wants forever

[fresh-blue-hell]

Interview with the Vampire 1.05 | 2.05

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#And he was right!!!

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2022 - ) I 2.08

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which could mean nothing

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I found it hilarious that he was basically justifying himself to Daniel, even though he calls him unworthy of his story and time😂 We see you Armand.

Interview with the Vampire | 2.02

[fresh-blue-hell]

No one has painted me in over 400 years.

[fresh-blue-hell]

Teen Wolf Incorrect Quote #8

Stiles to Liam: Fine doesn’t mean fine. 

Lydia: The scale goes: great, good, okay, no okay, I hate you, fine. 

Liam: *confused puppy noises*

[fresh-blue-hell]

Teen Wolf Incorrect Quote #4

Stiles: So you kissed. Then what happened?

Liam: I came over here to tell you guys.

Stiles: So she is over there waiting for you?

Liam: *Runs back to his date*

[fresh-blue-hell]

Panel from my webcomic, Our Fierce Differences. I'm on break right now writing Chapter 3 but I love how this panel looks. I too would have no idea what to do in this situation.

[fresh-blue-hell]

closer than ever

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: In the midst of a quiet, cold night in the woods, old feelings resurface between you and Joel.

warnings: bit of angst, mentions of loss, depictions of grief, established relationship (sort of), Ellie being a smart-ass, pet-names (sweetheart, darlin)

wc: 1.7k

note: I was making food for my dogs and I dropped everything to write this bdw.

The smell hit you first. Salty, metallic, and slightly rancid. Your stomach churned as you stared at the open can of dog food in your hands. It was the only thing Joel had managed to scavenge. "Best I could do, sweetheart," and you knew he meant well. He always did.

You tried not to gag, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth, shaking your head. "I can't do it, Joel," you muttered, pushing the can away. "I'll just throw it up, and that's even worse. I'd be dehydrated."

Joel's brow furrowed, his gaze flicking between you and the can. "You gotta eat somethin'. You're lookin' too pale."

Ellie, seated nearby and chewing on what little jerky was left, leaned over and made a face at the can. "Don't make her eat that, dude. That's disgusting," she said, her voice half-amused, half-horrified.

"It's all I could find. We're in the middle of fuckin' nowhere," Joel muttered defensively, shooting her a look.

"Yeah, well, it's dog food," Ellie retorted, stretching out the words like they were meant to gross him out. "She's not a dog, Joel."

Joel let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Ain't like i'm feedin' it to her by force."

You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped despite the situation. The woods were eerily still, the only sound coming from the crackle of the fire Joel had started for warmth. The air had a sharp chill to it - not enough to freeze you, but enough to remind you that the seasons were shifting. The three of you were on the move, searching for Tommy, hoping he'd have answers.

"Thank you, Joel, but I'm not eating that." you said, shaking your head. "Help yourself, though! Looks like its all yours," you added with a teasing smirk.

The teasing faded as the fire crackled low. The stars were unusually bright, their glow filling the sky. There were only two sleeping bags between the three of you. Joel must've noticed the worry crossing your face. "You can take mine. I'll be fine."

You blinked at him, incredulous. "Are you out of your mind? You're no good to us if you're frozen solid."

Joel chuckled softly, the sound low and warm in the cold night air. “I ain’t gonna freeze, darlin’,” he muttered, clearly amused by your concern.

You hesitated for a moment, then whispered, careful not to disturb Ellie, who was already deep in her sleeping bag. “We can just share. It’s big enough for the two of us.”

He stayed silent.

Joel and you had been together before everything fell apart. It was the best thing that’s ever happened to both of you. After he lost Sarah, things changed. The grief consumed him, and the man who once held you close became distant, shutting himself off from the world, including you. It had been a long time since he'd shown any affection, and it stung - but you'd never push it. A piece of him died with Sarah, and you knew how deeply he adored her.

You still remember it all too well. Two decades ago. The way he held Sarah’s lifeless body in his arms after she was shot, refusing to let go until you were lucky enough to find a cabin, a rare moment of luck amidst the chaos that day - the day hell broke loose on Earth.

He held her so tightly, like he was trying to stop time. With a slow, reluctant tenderness, he laid her on the unmade bed that once belonged to someone else, covered her as though she were still asleep, and left without saying a word to you or Tommy. And in that moment, a piece of him stayed behind, lingering in the stillness of that room.

Lately, though, things felt different. The more time you spent away from the QZ, trying to take Ellie to the fireflies ... he became softer around you, even more so around Ellie.

You could see how she was healing a part of him, the cracks in his heart starting to close, even if none of them were aware of it. But you were.

You've spent most of your life around Joel Miller. You knew him from the inside out. You never talked about how he's not affectionate with you anymore, not in the way he used to be before the outbreak.

You know he needs time and space, and you're ready to give him that, even if it meant slowly going crazy over it. You knew he hadn't fallen out of love with you; he made sure you knew that - whether it was giving you most of the food, making sure you had the warmest layer of clothes even if it meant him going without, or offering you what was left of his coffee grounds; and you know how much he loved coffee.

Even when words weren't there, his actions spoke louder, and you could feel the love in every small gesture, even if it was unspoken.

Your thoughts returned to Joel, as they often did, and how much he’d changed. How the man you’d once known - the one who had loved you so fiercely, despite the world falling apart - was slowly starting to resurface, little by little.

The crackling fire snapped, pulling you out of your thoughts. You glanced over at Joel, now starting to arrange the sleeping bag, his eyes distant yet soft, and his movements slow and deliberate as he gestured for you to get in. He gave you a nod, his eyes dark in the dim light.

You shook your head. “No, you go first,” you said with a small smirk. “You take up a lot more space than I do.”

He didn't argue. He nodded, listening to you without protest, and started climbing in, settling quickly. You followed, slipping in front of him, feeling the warmth of his body just behind you. You couldn't help but smile to yourself; it felt like nothing had changed, the familiar comfort of being close to him bringing back memories of the past. You shifted slightly, reminding yourself of how, more often than not, you used to be the little spoon.

"You alright?" his words bringing you back to the present. "Yeah," you replied softly. With that, he draped an arm over your hips, his hand gently resting against yours; the warmth of his touch grounding you.

It took you by surprise. His calloused hands were gentle, warm, reassuring you that he was still here, still the man who once held you close without hesitation.

You turned around to face him, your heart skipping a beat as you took in the soft glow of his face, illuminated by the faint light of the moon and the dying embers of the fire.

His features were more beautiful than ever; and without thinking, you leaned closer, your warm hands cupping his face gently. As your fingers brushed his skin, he closed his eyes, a quiet sigh escaping him.

Teary-eyed, your voice barely a whisper, the words coming out before you could stop them; "I missed you."

Joel’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his eyes lingering on your lips, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air between you. His heart raced, matching the rhythm of yours, as the distance between you both seemed to shrink. Slowly, ever so gently, his forehead touched yours, the warmth of his skin grounding you both. Closer than ever- physically, emotionally - like a puzzle piece fitting into place.

Your finger traced the outline of his lips, soft and tentative, as if asking for permission. It was all so delicate.

Then, with a breath that seemed to suspend time, you kissed him. Softly at first, gently, testing the waters, wondering how he would respond.

And then, he kissed you back. Not the tentative kiss you expected, but one full of depth, of yearning. It was slow, deliberate, as if he were pouring everything he had into that one moment—every ounce of love, every regret, every unspoken word. It was a kiss that spoke louder than any conversation ever could. This was enough. For you, it was enough.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes fluttered closed, both of you breathing in the silence, your hearts still racing but in sync.

Without a single word, without a need for more, you settled into each other’s arms, the unspoken understanding between you clear. And with that, you fell asleep, a quiet peace settling over you both.

[fresh-blue-hell]

❝law one❞ | armand x fem!reader

pairing: armand x fem!reader

summary: A few weeks ago, you began an unlikely friendship with an odd American with passion for photography. One night, he saved you from a drunken man, revealing his true nature as a vampire. Now, you're left with two choices: face death or meet the leader of the French vampire coven—alone.

warnings: armand is a warning himself, sexual tension, mind control, mind reading, armand projecting, mentions of murder, violence, reader isn't a good person, english is not my native language

a/n: this could also work as a short series. should i?

It wasn’t so much the truth about vampires being real, or the memory of Louis killing a man and draining him dry in front of you, that scared you. It was the reputation and the stories surrounding the owner of the Théâtre des Vampires—what Louis called the ancient leader of the French vampire coven—coming to interrogate you and decide whether you had the right to live.

You sat in your cold room, the moonlight casting silvery patterns on the worn wooden floor, waiting on your old couch for the man to enter. For two hours, though, the only sounds were the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and the faint echoes of Louis bickering with his daughter, Claudia—or so you had been told.

You weren’t afraid of death or whatever hid beyond it. What truly terrified you was the not knowing—the weight of not knowing what to expect. This Armand, the so-called Maître, wasn’t just another figure from Louis’ dark world. He was a name wrapped in whispers, the leader of the French coven, an ancient predator whose age stretched beyond your comprehension. The thought of him—a creature who had outlived centuries, who had walked through history itself—coming to meet you was something you couldn’t possibly be prepared for. It wasn’t fear of his fangs or his powers that made you shiver. It was the thought of standing before him, alone, under the gaze of someone who had seen and survived it all.

You were so lost in your thoughts and fear that you didn't even notice the sudden stillness in the room. The bickering between Louis and Claudia had stopped. They were both silent. He was here—right behind the curtains. You could only make out his shadow, towering over Louis as he whispered something to him. Your heart began racing faster and louder in your chest as you froze, unsure of how to act when he finally entered.

You watched as the shadows of Louis and Claudia moved, fading away and leaving him standing alone at the center. For a long moment, he remained motionless, an unsettling calm filling up the space. Then, with calculated slowness, he reached for the curtains, pulling them wide open, and there he was.

He looked like an angel—no, you quickly corrected yourself, a devil. No angel could compare to the beauty of the devil. His presence was effortlessly commanding, an unspoken ancient power unmistakable in every breath he took. His dark, curly hair framed a face sculpted with the precision of an artisan—high cheekbones and a sharp jawline softened only by the fullness of his lips, which he pressed together in silent contemplation. His piercing yellow eyes locked onto you, seeing through you as if they were stripping you bare. The moonlight danced on his dark brown skin, illuminating a beauty that felt impossibly timeless. Every movement, every breath, every shift of his gaze seemed intentional—as if the world itself paused to welcome his grace. He stood there, a figure from some ancient dream, and for a moment, you could hardly breathe under the weight of his presence.

You sat there, unsure whether to speak or remain silent. He was quiet for what felt like an eternity, though only a few minutes passed. His eyes seemed to strip you bare, his head tilting as if trying to read you. And maybe he was. What was the human mind to the powers of an ancient vampire? You imagined it was like looking through glass—clear and translucent. A wave of shame and embarrassment washed over you, thinking of what he might have seen in your memories.

In perfect sync with your rising anxiety, a smile crept across his face. But it wasn’t the kind of smile one gives a friend to offer comfort. No, it was the kind that sent shivers down your spine, making you feel utterly humiliated. And he hadn’t even said a word yet.

"Armand," he spoke, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. It was sweet but commanding, your body tense like it was waiting for his command to breathe. His gaze slowly drifted from your eyes to your neck, lingering there for a moment before dropping to your hands, which you clenched tightly in your lap. You hadn’t realized you’d been digging your nails into your skin, drawing blood, the small beads of red unnoticed by you but not by him.

"I was told, repeatedly by Louis, that I should let you live." His voice was quiet, but it felt like a thunderclap in your chest. He studied your face, like a predator watching his prey, savoring the anxiety radiating from you. He enjoyed your fear. "But tell me," his eyes darkened, narrowing, "what makes you so special, so unique, that I shouldn't tear you apart right here, right now?"

Each word of his felt like a tightening noose around your throat, his gaze cutting into your skin. The room felt smaller, suffocating like time stopped. Over your heart, you couldn't even hear the ticking of the clock anymore.

You didn’t dare speak, not sure if you could form words, or if he'd even let you. Every part of you screamed to escape, but your body was frozen.

"You can't speak?" he asked, his voice sharp, eyebrows raised as the silence stretched between you. The seconds felt like hours, each one heavier than the last, and your throat tightened.

A flush of humiliation washed over you, and you could feel your face burn, wishing more than anything that you could disappear into the floor. If only you could move.

With a soft, almost knowing nod, he took off his coat, folding it carefully before placing it on the table beside him. The simple motion felt deliberate, as though he was setting the stage for something more.

"I remember you." His voice was firm, cutting through the air as he moved past the table, coming to stand directly in front of you. He towered over you, forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. He leaned casually against the desk, every movement calculated, controlled. "Louis spoke highly of you, so I wanted to see for myself. That was a few weeks ago. I didn't think he'd let you live this long."

"Louis is a good man. He would never hurt me." The words tumbled out before you could stop them, a protective instinct kicking in. The sudden urge to defend Louis caught you off guard, and as soon as you spoke those words, you regretted them.

Armand’s head tilted slightly, his lips curling into a small smirk as he finally heard your voice. There was something about the way he listened—did he enjoy it? Did your voice soothe him in some way?

You shook the thought away, trying to regain control of your mind, but it was too late. Armand had already caught it. The faintest flicker of something dark passed across his eyes, and you could almost feel him savoring your vulnerability.

"He is," Armand agreed. You could be wrapped in layers of blankets, draped in thick clothing, and still feel so exposed in his presence. Was it him, his power, or was it simply you that made you feel this way? Did he use his ancient powers to make you feel naked and bare? You wondered if he had this effect on everyone or if it was just you. Could he manipulate you with his powers, or was this all your own doing? The idea of being bare in front of him sent a shiver through you—both terrifying and exciting at the same time.

"But he is a vampire. And you... you're nothing but a human. Not even an exceptional one, dare I say." He smirked, his gaze shifting from you to the window. It was a dark night, the only light coming from the moon.

"You don't know me." You shook your head, straightening your back, trying to regain your composure. "You can read minds, yes? Because you hold that power, you think you understand them. But thoughts do not define a person. Actions do. You speak so highly of yourself, so certain of your superiority, making people tremble at your presence. Yes, it works, but it speaks volumes about you. The way you carry yourself, the choices you make, the way you treat others—that defines who you truly are. Not your powers. Not your age. So you can take your ancient, pretentious powers and shove them up your ass. If you want to kill me, kill me. But don't pretend you're the one who gets to decide my worth just because you're older than the goddess in the night sky."

Your voice trembled with a mixture of anger and fear, but inside, you could feel the tension. You had no idea how far you were pushing him, but part of you didn't care.

His gaze was fixed on you again, but this time, it was darker—deeper. Not yellow, not orange. Pitch black. No light from the moon could reflect on them. Not even the brightest star could break through that abyss. You expected him to strike, to lunge forward and tear apart your throat with his fangs. But instead, he stood still. His gaze alone was enough to make every inch of your skin crawl.

"Two years ago, a boy moved in across from your house, with his sick, aging mother," he said, his voice low, like the rustling of wind through dead leaves. Your stomach dropped. Not this. Not this memory. "He developed a crush on you. Came over every day just to see you."

"Stop," you whispered, eyes shut, trying desperately to push the memory out, to silence his voice. But it was useless. His words, like tendrils, wormed their way into your mind.

"One night, he came over with your favorite flowers, asking you for a walk under the moonlight. You said no, but he wouldn’t leave. You stabbed him with your scissors, your anger overtaking you as he collapsed to the ground. Your first thought? How his blood ruined the flowers."

His gaze didn’t move. It was as if he were reading you, page by page, every flicker of your emotions, every hesitation, every fear laid bare before him. Your thoughts had become his plaything, and you were powerless to stop it.

"You threw the body in a dumpster and lied to his mother about it. Two months later, she took her own life in her son's room," he said quickly, ignoring your desperate pleas to stop.

"A year later, you fucked a man twice your age because his wife moved away and you needed rent money." His words sliced through you like a cold blade, laying bare your flaws, your actions. Thoughts don’t define a person, he reminded you. Actions do. And you were rotten to the core. Your reflection, your past, it was all being recited back to you with brutal precision.

"Are you still worthy of life?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He tilted his head, savoring your torment. "Will you fuck your way out of this one too?"

Before you even had time to process his words, rage took over. Without thinking, you lunged at him, mind clouded with pure fury. You knew you didn’t stand a chance, but for a split second, you wanted to scar that perfect, god-sculpted face of his.

In an instant, your body slammed against the wall, feet dangling in the air as Armand’s grip tightened around your throat. His nails dug into your skin, suffocating any attempt at a breath as he held you effortlessly, his gaze never leaving your face.

"How dare you speak of the goodness of a man when you," he paused, his voice cold and venomous, his face so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. His nose nearly brushed against yours. The worst part was that, despite everything, your body responded to the proximity. Even in the midst of the violence, something in you craved it.

"You, you little, useless thing," he continued, his voice low and mocking, "you have none of it in your soul. You manipulate and take. You lie and bargain. You took an innocent life because you were annoyed. You bartered with desire for warmth." He laughed in your face, cruel and taunting, as you struggled to breathe. Your hands clung to his, your legs growing weak as the air drained from your lungs.

"Even now, you're fighting to give in," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. Then, without warning, he dropped his head to your neck. You felt the cold scrape of his fangs against your skin. "Does your body crave violence? Do you thrive in it? You've never known a gentle touch, so why wouldn't you?"

His grip tightened, his nails digging into your skin, and the world around you blurred. Your thoughts became clouded, your body trembling, both in fear and an unwilling desire you couldn’t control.

"Fuck you," you managed, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. But before you could even finish, you felt the excruciating sting of his fangs sinking into your skin. Pain and pleasure collided in a sickening rush. He held you there, feeding on your terror, until the last of your strength slipped away.

The last thing your human tongue remembered was the honey-sweet taste of his blood.

[fresh-blue-hell]

This gives me joy 💙

[fresh-blue-hell]

THE INTRODUCTION OF LISSETTE DE LIONCOURT

TIMELINE: 1910-1917 / 2022

SETTING: NEW ORLEANS / DUBAI

NEW ORLEANS, 1910

Lissette de Lioncourt at 7 years old

Lissette often wondered why exactly her papa had decided to take them to New Orleans. She hadn't been in Paris very long, especially after running from the orphanage and being found by him. He'd claimed her as his own and taken them far, far away soon after.

Not that she minded. Paris had odd memories for her, if only a few.

She knew exactly what her father was and what he did, but she never thought it an issue. He'd made it very clear that once she reached a certain age, she'd be turned as well, as he refused to live in a world without her. She found that the idea wasn't as repulsive as it could've been. The idea of being with her father forever, the idea of eternal family.

Tonight Lissette's papa had gone to a poker game and of course, as he refused to go most places without her, she'd gone right along with him. She'd either be cuddled in his lap, or outside sitting peacefully with her pen and paper. Lestat had done well teaching her art and music. She was only seven, but her love for the piano was almost as strong as her father's.

As she sat outside the room where the game happened, her legs dangling off the couch, she hummed softly to herself. A melody her father had written for her that always put her to sleep. She traced the drawing with her fingertips, not quite sure how truly good the drawing was.

"Ma petite!" She heard from the game room, knowing it was her father's way of calling to her. She clutched onto her drawing, little legs running to him, her dress shuffling as she ran. She opened the door and watched as Lestat's smile grew large and content, a glimmer of proudness in his eyes. "Ah, there she is. The apple of my eye. Venez ici." Come here.

She giggled and fell into his lap, hands clutching at him as he laughed. "Gentlemen, may I introduce the pearl of Paris, the princess of my heart and the true head of my home, my daughter Lissette de Lioncourt."

She waved excitedly. "Bonjour!"

"English, mon ange." My angel. He whispered in her ear.

"Oh! Hello!" She showed a big smile, one of her teeth missing.

"I didn't know you had a daughter, Mister Lioncourt." One of the strange men with a strange moustache looked at Lissette. She cuddled farther into her father. She did not like these strange men.

Lestat took a puff of his cigar. "Odd. I never really go anywhere without her. Though this little miscreant always finds ways to run off." He tickled her side and she giggled.

"Bringin' her here, Lioncourt. This ain't no place for a child. Let alone a little girl." The other one spoke. Lissette hadn't bothered to learn their names, and some words were partly lost on her. Her English was very good, but they just spoke so fast.

The vampire looked him up and down, blue eyes piercing through his soul. Then he laughed, a direct juxtaposition of his earlier expression. "Forgive me, monsieur's, it's just that this is the perfect place for my little beauty. She loves card games. As a blossoming young strategist, I believe this is exactly where she should be." He looked down at her and watched as she focused at his cards. "Don't you think, Lissette?"

"Oui—Yes, papa." She nodded, realising there was no way in hell her father was going to win this game.

"Well," he patted her head. "That's settled. Let's continue the game, shall we."

As they gambled and played, Lissette found herself whispering in her fathers ear about how exactly to win the game, and he was, seemingly, ignoring her advice.

This made her angry. A lot of things made her angry. She was seven, a lack of Bon-Bon's made her angry.

Her brows furrowed just like her father's did as she decided to kick him in the shin. He jolted slightly. "What is it, my girl? Are you tired?" He asked in French.

She shook her head. "No, papa. I'm only angry. You know I'm right, why won't you listen to me?"

He chuckled. "I'm not playing to win, mon cherie."

"You should always play to win."

"What is she yapping your ear off about now?" One of the strange, strange men laughed. "This one's a talker. She'll need a man to rein her in when she grows up."

Lestat leaned back in his seat, tongue suddenly clicking in annoyance. "She is seven."

"When she grows, surely—"

"She is seven. What would posses you to say such a thing about a little child, monsieur? My child?" His grip around her tightened as the two gave the man the same death stare. Lissette didn't know exactly what he was saying or what it meant, but her father got awfully defensive so it must've been bad. That was a bad man then, like many in her life were.

Before he could answer, a man walked through the door and Lissette felt her father grow slightly happier. Or very much happier. She liked it when he was happy, so she liked him. He was also very pretty.

"Gentlemen, well, you all know Louis du Lac." One of the men with a black moustache introduced the prettier one. "Louis, let me introduce you to Mr. Lestat de Lioncourt.”

"We met already, Mr. Anderson, sir." He huffed, taking his seat. Did the pretty man not like Lissette's papa? Everyone liked papa.

"In front of a florist, wasn't it? We both wanted the last bouquet of lilies." There was an undertone to his question but she wasn't sure what it meant. She suddenly remembered the night he was away and how happily he played with her when he got back.

Louis ( she liked that name very much ) took a look at her with a raised brow. "The kid yours?"

"My heart and soul." He leaned down to speak in her ear. "Say hello, Lissette."

She smiled brightly, teeth bared. "Hi! I'm Lissette. You're very pretty, Mister du Lac."

He chuckled at the sweet way she said her words, honest but so kind. He'd never been called pretty. "Well, thank you sweetheart. And you can call me Louis." He looked back to Lestat. "Bringing a baby to a poker game?"

"Truthfully, she plays the game better than I do." He laughed.

"Aren't you gonna ask the alderman how his head is, Louis?" Moustache man spoke.

"Now, why would I do that, Mr. Anderson, sir?" He looked at his cards.

"You see, Mr. Fenwick, just as I told you, a most discreet n**ro."

That was a bad word. Papa said that people shouldn't use that word. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she glanced at Louis. He seemed quietly frustrated.

The man grumbled. "Would that his doctor had the same standards."

"Gentlemen, show your cards." Lissette sighed at her father's pathetic hand. "Hoo! Mr. Lioncourt, your hand is incomprehensible."

He looked down and smiled. "Oh, yes. I'm terrible at cards. Did I not mention that to everyone? I should've listened to my Lissette, it appears." He said. "Would you mind getting me some more of these money chips?"

They all laughed. She didn't understand what was so funny.

"Louis, did you know that Alderman Fenwick here recently purchased both the title and deed to the Horton rooming house on Villere Street?"

"Yeah, Mr. Anderson believes it could make a fine sportin' house. I recommended the alderman find a managing partner before he commits his money. I recommended he think of you, Louis." The moustache man spoke.

"Very kind of you, Mr. Anderson, sir." Oh, so that was his name. She'd forget it in a week.

"What do you think of the location?"

"It ain't Basin Street. But throw enough Edison bulbs on the facade, get a good margin on the alcohol, no-nonsense madam to keep the girls clean, I reckon a man could make a decent sum. Yes, sir, Mr. Fenwick, sir." Louis went on about a business plan right off the top of his head. He's really smart, Papa!, she spoke in her mind.

Indeed he is, ma petite. He answered.

"I said you'd do it for 10 percent."

That was very little, wasn't it? He seemed like the smartest person in the room, why only ten?

He seemed as astonished as the blonde child. "A-all respects, Mr. Anderson, but you proposing 10 percent for all the work?"

"15 percent?" The other one almost scoffed.

"There's capital investment, and there's labor. Both has its seat at the table. Wouldn't you say, Mr. Lestat?" They tried to placate him, but her papa wasn't the person to ask when it came to calming people.

"Well, I can only speak of my experience, which is, I'm sure, different in my country. Par exemple, you fine gentlemen have heard of the success story that is Le Bon Marché, shoppingexperience like no other. Aristide Boucicaut invests in a new vision..." ramble, ramble, ramble and then quiet. Papa was pulling his tricks again!

"These men look down on you." Louis looked at him with an odd mix of confusion and fear. "I have to say, I find it appalling how men like yourself are treated in this country of yours." Lissette nodded passionately.

"He's right, pretty Louis." She said. He seemed even more afraid.

"15 percent. Do you not know your value? Do you suffer these indignities for some larger purpose? And do you think two pair will win the hour?" He waited for Lissette to pick the correct card from the player beside him, and hand it to him as he gave it to Louis. "I believe there is great opportunity in this city, but to seize it, I'll need protection from the wolves."

And then time continued normally. The chip fell, the men continued to speak, and Louis thought he was losing his damn mind.

"—And that's all to say, forgive me, Mr. de Pointe du Lac, for my bias, but where is the business if there is no capital? It does not exist. No?" Lestat continued normally, as if nothing had happened.

"Alright, boys. Show 'em." Louis put down his cards and glanced at a smirking blonde child. "Ooh. Full boat, Mr. du Lac."

"Got you beat, Tom."

( Louis: He wouldn't tell me how he did it, his trick to make the world stop. And the fact that that this little girl he claimed was his own seemed so comfortable and content in all this made me all the more concerned.

Daniel: A child in the clutches of a vampire? Yeah, I can see how that would be scary.

Louis: I asked him far too many questions about his tricks, and he always said; "In time, Louis. Patience, Louis. Ask me next week, Louis".

Daniel: You started hanging out?

Louis: He was in love with my city and wanted to know everything he could about it. And getting to know him meant getting to know Lissette.

Daniel: So you played docent to the gentleman vampire and his mini-me?

Louis: He had not revealed his vampire nature yet.

Daniel: I'm assuming you only met at night.

Louis: It's New Orleans. Days are for sleeping off the previous evening's damage.

Daniel: Perfect cover for a vampire.

Louis: Racing ahead again, Mr. Molloy. Let the tale seduce you. Just as I was seduced. Money would arrive, wired from France, and the shopkeepers, who would usually close at sunset, were very happy to accommodate him and his daughter. He ransacked the import houses to furnish his town house, ravaged the booksellers of their oldest volumes for a library to continue Lissette's education. And, with encouragement, updated his wardrobe to the fashion trends of the season. It was a cold winter that year, and Lestat was my coal fire.

Daniel: And Lissette? How did she fit into your little trysts?

Louis: Lissette was an unforeseen joy. If Lestat was the sun, Lissette was the brightest star in the sky. Never gloomy, never angry, and according to her, never wrong. I found myself for the very first time, to anyone other than Paul, confiding my struggles to another man. I was being hunted. And I was completely unaware it was happening. )

_______________________

Lissette had grown quite used to sleeping the day away. She would later learn that many psychologists said that was horrible for growing children, but she didn't know any of that. She just knew that she loved the stars, and that she loved her papa, and papa was only awake at night.

She had a bedroom, of course, but she mostly slept in the coffin with Lestat. He said he never wanted to be far from her, in case she got hurt or had a nightmare. Papa was the only one who could calm her nightmares.

It had been a few weeks since she'd met Louis, and she found that she liked him very much. He was very nice and always brought her candy or food from his home. He also liked to talk to her, and asked about her feelings and her thoughts. Before him, Lestat was the only adult who asked, all the others just wrote her off as being cute and slightly odd.

As she laid on her father's chest, feeling his hand run along her hair in the darkness of the coffin, a question popped into her head. "Papa?"

"Yes, mon cherie?"

"Is Mister Louis going to stay with us?"

He waited for a moment, for her question to settle. There was a slight lull, and then he smiled. "My dark miracle, do you perhaps like Louis?"

She nodded against his chest. "Yes, papa. He's very kind and he makes you happy. So he makes me happy."

He chuckled and placed a kiss on her head. "He makes you happy?" He poked her side as she broke out into soft giggles. "Then yes, light of my life. If he makes you happy, he's staying."

"Yay! Yay! Yay!" Her head went up to look at him but it lightly banged the top of the coffin. "Ouch."

Lestat immediately cupped the back of her head, eyes filled with worry. "Ma petit, you must be more careful. I can't have your pretty head being hurt."

"I'm alright, papa. I'm st—st," she bit her lip in concentration. "Quel est le mot pour 'fort?'" What is the word for 'strong'?

"Strong." He said, watching as she mouthed it after. "Repeat; strong."

"Strong." She said. "I am very strong. Do not worry about me."

He looked at her like he could see through her, like he always did. He remembered the small thing he found outside the orphanage a year before he left Paris. The little thing who had his blonde hair, and his blue eyes. Malnourished, frightened and so horribly innocent. She was only four. The more she grew, the more he realised that their souls were meant to meet at some point. They would be forever intertwined, fated by an energy he told himself he didn't believe in. She was his and he was and would forever be hers.

He pressed his hand gently to her jaw, eyes unreadable. "I will always worry about you."

"That's too much, papa. You can't worry about someone forever, your heart would stop!" She cried.

"Well, lucky for you, young lady, I am immortal! And unluckily, I'll never stop annoying you!" He held her tight, pressing soft, quick kisses to her laughing face.

Her happiness was loud and beautiful. "You could never annoy me! You're my favourite, papa!"

"And you're my favourite, Lissette dearest." He said, settling her once more. "Now sleep. You're a growing girl, you need it."

"Good night, papa."

"Good night, my love."

____________________

DUBAI, 2022

"Lissette was wonderful. Bright, kind, and asked far too many questions—"

"You keep saying was." Daniel interrupted him. "Same thing when you talked about Claudia, way back when. Except, I remember Lissette in that way back when, so...where is she now?"

Louis only smiled, hearing the peaceful footsteps coming up to the door of their penthouse.

Daniel waited for him to answer as the door opened.

"Daddy! I'm home!" A girlish voice was heard from a few feet away. Daniel's eyes widened. "Dublin is just beautiful this time of year! We must visit together soon, all of us!"

Louis stood to his feet, a bright look in his eye. He walked towards a girl with long blond locks as she ran to him. He held her like she was his world, face falling into her beautiful hair and taking a breath. "You're finally home. I've missed you, baby."

"It was only a week." She giggled as he withdrew, holding her face in his hands.

"A week too long, Lissette." He claimed. "You were wondering, Daniel?"

She whipped her head around at the name, eyes lighting up with recognition. "Daniel!" She cried, suddenly making him rise to his feet as she engulfed him in a hug. "Oh, it's been so long! Daddy said he'd called you back, but I wasn't sure you'd actually come. But you have!"

He was confused, unable to reciprocate her hug, only giving her back a small pat of awkwardness. "Hey, Lissette." He cleared his throat as she stepped away, a sweet smile on her face. "I'm sorry, a lot of the seventies as a blur for me. Were we close?"

"Oh." She said, brows creasing in sudden confusion and sadness. "Yes, we were. At least I like to think so." And then her mood suddenly picked up. "But the past is the past! I'd like to get to know you all over again."

"Would you mind doing so after the interview, sugar?" Her father asked, hands lightly pressed against her shoulders.

She nodded as if a sudden realisation had befallen her. "Oh! Yes, yes of course. Don't you worry about it. I'll be in my room unpacking, daddy." She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then skipped off, servants wheeling in her luggage behind her.

"I expect you here for dinner!" He called out, a yes, of course! following his words. He turned back to the reporter, a content look on his face.

A beat passed between them.

"So," Molloy began. "She hasn't changed."

He remembered her now, as she was in the seventies. As she would be forever. That face that had haunted him for half a century and a name he heard in the fleeting wind. Lissette, Lissette, Lissette de Lioncourt. Beautiful blue eyes, the kindest smile in the world. She was real. She was here.

"And I hope she never will." He continued.

"Guess we know who she chose in the divorce."

"We'll get to that. All you need to know right now, is that Lissette's here and thriving. The only family I've got left, truly. And, to me, the most important thing in the world." The vampire said, seating himself back on the couch. The reporter followed soon after.

"Kids," he sighed. "Can't stand 'em, can't live without 'em."

"I never had that with her. Can't stand 'em." Louis said. "But then again, Lissette was never like most children. Becoming another parent to her wasn't really my decision, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

____________________

NEW ORLEANS, 1911

Louis had decided to visit Lestat and Lissette at their home more often. The little girl found that Louis de Pointe du Lac was one of the most pleasant men she'd ever met. She'd had scarce memories of good men in Paris. She remembered what her father had told her, that the only reason he had come to Paris was some money wire, and that finding her had been complete coincidence. She liked to think it was a happy coincidence and he agreed.

She remembered how hidden they had to stay in Paris which confused her greatly. She would later be told that the Parisian vampires were always on the look out for Lestat, and that he had no intention of seeing them again. When they got on the boat to London in 1908, she remembered glowing eyes staring down at her father and then on her. That dark face and glowing ruby eyes had embedded themselves in her memory ever since.

Lissette wasn't quite sure what they wanted from her father, but it wasn't anything nice. He did not like the Paris coven, that much was clear. And papa was always right about everything. Especially right about Louis.

Months had passed with their acquaintanceship, each day brighter and brighter. Lissette had never seen the sun as much as she had with Louis, and it was a miracle Lestat trusted him enough to take her out during the day. She'd even celebrated her eighth birthday with him, bringing her his mothers chocolate cake and watching with glee as she shoved her face into it.

Tonight was another one of those nights where the three of them sat around the living room talking and laughing. Currently, Lissette was dancing around the living room with a ribbon in her hand. The ribbon belonged to the box of the dress Louis had gotten her.

( Louis: It can't be overstated just how much Lestat and I spoiled Lissette. It's a miracle she turned out to be as humble as she is. )

"Careful, now, Ettie!" Louis called out as she jumped from couch to couch. Both men knew how accident prone she was, and as much fun as she was having, she was also very fragile. "Don't want you gettin hurt, ya hear?"

She giggled. "Oui, Mister Louis." Her small feet padded over to him and she held her arms out. He huffed a laugh and pulled her into his lap.

"How many times do I gotta tell you? It's just Louis, sugar."

"Papa said it's a show of respect." She insisted, looking up at him with her beautiful large blue eyes.

Lestat laughed from beside them, leaning down to press a kiss on her head. "Forgive me, Louis. I've been trying my best to raise a respectful young lady, but I've been saddled with a stubborn one." She poked his cheek in annoyance and he stuck his tongue out at her.

"I'm wonderful!" She insisted.

"Stubborn." Lestat mouthed to Louis.

Louis shook his head at the two. "Yeah, that you are, Ettie." The smile she gave him was so bright, it melted his heard a little. "So, how would you two feel about coming 'round mine for dinner?"

Lestat seemed to already be aware of the question before it was asked. He smiled. "I would be honoured. But of course, we must ask the lady of the house first." He turned to his daughter, eyes full of mischief.

Louis played along. "Where are my manners? Miss Ettie, would you do me the honour of attending dinner with me tomorrow night?"

She thought about it for a moment. She looked to her father and he gave her a nod. She nodded her head with excitement, face painted with happiness.

Louis chuckled. "It's settled then. Ya'll gonna be meeting all of my family, which means my mother, my brother, my sister and her fiancée."

Lissette gasped. "Your sister is going to be a bride?! Oh, that's so wonderful, Mister Louis! Is he a good man? Does she have a dress? When is the wedding? Ooh!"

The man watched her with the utmost curiosity and so much amusement. This little thing was so full of light and love, it made his eyes light up every time she spoke. He wondered how anyone was capable of keeping a child so innocent and bright, let alone someone like Lestat, who made no effort to hide his indiscretions. If his own children were anything like Lissette, he'd be the luckiest man alive.

Lestat leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her head. She reached out for him subconsciously, always seeking to somehow be held by him. He looked at Louis, as if asking permission to take the girl from him.

She crawled into Lestat's lap after, awaiting Louis' answers. "Yes, she is. Yes, he is. Yes, she does. And I'm not sure, sugar. Soon, I think."

"Lissette has, as of late, fallen in love with the idea of love, if you will." The blonde vampire explained as she looked up with dreamy eyes. "Fairytales, weddings, tragic affairs. All of the above."

Louis quirked a brow. "Tragic affairs?"

"Hm. Yes. Romeo and Juliet is an all time favourite of hers. She likes to be read to, don't you, my dark miracle?" He wrapped an arm across her stomach and held her close. It always seemed he wanted her as close as physically possible.

It was true that many parents, mothers mostly, liked to feel their children close to their hearts. They were a part of them, like a limb or an organ. Lestat was no exception to this. He'd once explained that Lissette was like the a living incarnation of his soul, an inner part of him projected into a person. Being away from her would be true hell.

"Ain't that a little dark? She's still a baby." Louis argued.

"I'm eight, not stupid, Mister Louis." She insisted.

She was so quick witted, much like her father. Louis laughed loudly and held a hand to his chest, looking at Lestat, who was laughing with him. "Yeah, she's your kid, alright."

"I take that as a compliment." He said, in all his arrogant glory.

________________________

Coming to Louis' house for dinner was probably the most exciting thing that had ever happened to anyone ever. At least that's what Lissette thought.

His sister, Grace, was immediately enamoured with Lissette. She'd heard of the girl and her father many times from her brother but was not prepared to have a little girl throw herself into her arms and ask a million questions about her wedding and about Levi.

Lestat had laughed and Louis had looked to her with amusement and whispered practice.

Then they were all seated for dinner, and Lissette refused to sit anywhere but her father's lap. The entire family smiled at that and agreed she should be as close to him as possible.

She'd never been around so many nice people before! It was so exciting, and they were all so nice.

"I can't thank you enough, Mama du Lac." Levi spoke after they all sat for dinner. "I never been east of Alabama, and now I'm going to see the pyramids."

"Oh, I think every young family deserves a little adventure. Wouldn't you say, Monsieur Lioncourt?" Florence, the matriarch, asked the vampire

"Oui, Madame. My mother, she gave me every advantage in life as a young man." Lestat spoke carefully, spooning some food into Lissette's mouth. "My first Mastiff, first flintlock rifle, the means to make my way to Paris." He wiped the left overs off of his daughter's face and smiled down at her. "As I try to do for my Lissette."

"And she's just an angel, ain't you, sweetheart?" Grace spoke up, poking her stomach from beside Lestat. Lissette giggled.

She poked her fathers cheek to get his attention and make him lean down so she could whisper in his ear, rather loudly. "I really like them, papa."

The table laughed, having heard her even though she was so sure she was being secretive. Louis looked to her from the head of the table. "Yeah? We like you too, sugar."

She reached her arms out for Louis, wanting to be closer to him. His mother awed audibly. She found that nowadays, she craved him almost as much as she craved Papa. He cared for her almost like Lestat did, held her like he did. She liked it. It was different, but wonderful.

Louis looked to Lestat at this action, and he simply nodded, giving him the permission to hold Lissette. "C'mere." He smiled, rising to his feet to pick her up and settle her into his lap.

"It was Louis that purchased

your holiday, Levi." Paul cut in, eyes staring down at his food. "It's Louis who controls the money."

"Pay no mind, Levi." Louis nodded his head thoughtfully, petting Lissette's hair.

"And I don't know who gave you the right to call our mother your mother. She's not your mother yet

and will never be your scientific mother." He continued his rant. He had never like Levi.

"Paul." His mother chided.

Lissette furrowed her brows. She looked up at the man whose embrace she was in and this time, she really whispered. "Papa, didn't make me, mister Louis. Is he not my papa?" Her eyes were quick to turn tearful. She'd always been awfully sensitive.

"No, baby. Don't think like that." Louis whispered back.

He shared a look with the vampire, whose face had turned sour at the question. Non, ma petit, he spoke within her mind. Louis' brother is not...quite in his right mind. Do not pay it any attention. Alright?

She nodded at him. Alright. I love you, papa.

I love you more.

Lestat regarded Paul with an angry look, then a slight grin. "I do love this bouillabaisse."

"What?" Paul asked.

"Down here, we call it gumbo."

"We had a gumbo the other night, didn't we, Louis? After the opera?"

"Oh, we've got Louis to an opera." Grace spoke with a laugh.

"Iolanta." Lestat clarified.

"Bout some blind princess, didn't know she was a princess. Stomach got grumbling, left half way through." Louis scoffed.

Paul looked between them. "And what exactly is the nature of your relationship with my brother, Monsieur Lioncourt?"

He considered the questioning before answering. "Your brother and I have been discussing a few investment opportunities."

Paul made sure to add, "The birds asked me to ask you. I wasn't being rude."

Lestat then turned to the others. "Monsieur Freniere, would you tell me how you came to propose to this delightsome young woman?"

"Oh, that's a good yarn."

"Are you one with Christ, Mr. Lioncourt? Is your daughter baptised?" Paul asked, eyes eager.

Papa said baptisms were for mortals, like religions in general were. He never saw the point. If there was a God, and he truly believed Lissette's soul was pure, he'd take her, baptism or not.

"How 'bout you shut your damn mouth?" His brother cut in.

"Louis." His mother chided him.

"That's alright, Louis, Madame, the birds speak for him." Lestat waved them off. "I came to know Christ in a monastery. I wanted to be a priest. Just like you, Paul. And under the guidance and discipline of the monks who lived there, I came to memorize both the testaments, the writings of Assisi, Aquinas, Erasmus, all the saints and scholars. My father," the word was bitter on his tongue, an angry scoff coming out.

Lissette shook her head and Louis looked at her confusedly.

But her father continued. "—a vulgar man, did not think much of this education, and so he and my brothers conspired to pull me out, lock me away, where, between beatings, starvations, and the failure of Christ to intercede the beatings and starvations, I slowly forgot all about the testaments, Assisi, Aquinas, Erasmus, all of it."

"Stop." Louis demanded.

The anger was palpable and it sunk into the minds of others, powers growing difficult to control. "And so to answer your boring questions, no my daughter is not baptised and will never be because there is an ocean between Christ and myself!"

"Stop!" Louis banged his fist on the table. Lissette flinched, on the verge of tears again. "Don't do that shit here! Not with my family. You understand?"

They were both so angry. Lissette didn't like it. It felt like danger was at every corner.

Lestat licked his lips, attempting to calm himself. A fake smile graced his face. "I am cursed with my father's temper at times, and the rudeness is all mine."

Louis' mother nodded. "That's alright. It's the humidity. It does that sometimes. Why don't we have some ice wine? And Levi here can tell us all again how he won my joychild's heart."

But Lissette's lip quivered and small sniffles came from her. She didn't like violence or loud noises. Papa made sure to keep them away from her, but not tonight.

While Levi recounted the tale, Louis realised the girl was crying, trying his best to soothe her without making a scene. He held her close to his chest. "I'm sorry, Ettie. It's alright. It's all good." He said.

Lestat whipped his head around to face her at the sound, only to see her holding Louis with a tight grip. His heart broke at the sight of his daughter in tears. "Forgive me, monsieur Freniere." He interrupted, not unkindly. "It seems I must get my Lissette home. She's had a," he looked directly at Paul. "-a taxing day, I think."

He rose to his feet and took Lissette from Louis who frowned in their direction. "You don't have to—

"No, I think it's best we go." He kept his tight smile, speaking within Louis mind, meet me after I put the little one to bed. "Thank you madam, for this wonderful feast." Lissette pointed at Grace before they could leave, and her father walked them over to the woman.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss on her cheek as a goodbye. "Bye, bye, Miss Grace."

She smiled and huffed a laugh. "Bye, Miss Lissette."

And the two of them walked off.

_______________________

That night, when Lestat put Lissette to bed, there was silence. It was uncommon for tense quiet to fall over them, but her mind was a whirlwind. What was Paul saying? Should she have been baptised? Was papa not her papa?

Did she even have a family?

"Ah, I've found it!" Lestat exclaimed, walking back into her room with a stuffed teddy bear. He took her blank expression in for a moment. He wondered if he'd do better to stay with her that night, but knew she needed to be asleep as soon as possible. Sleep fixed a lot of things for Lissette and even a catnap would do her some good. Even if she wasn't used to sleeping at night, he knew she needed to rest. Then he read her thoughts. "My angel, you do not need to drive yourself mad considering that man's words." He said, sitting by her bedside. He smiled down at her. "You do have a family. I am your family."

"I know." She said. "I know that, papa."

But her face was still melancholy. "So what is it then? Why are you still upset?"

She took a minute to breathe before answering, noticing her father's tense expression. "You are my papa, but...who made me?"

He sighed, eyes clenching shut. He never wanted her to ask that question, never wanted to answer it. I made you, he wanted to say, but it was untrue. I will make you, he would say if she was old enough to understand the transition to vampirism she would one day go through. He thought he could avoid the conversation until they got to that point which, in retrospect, was a stupid thing to believe. Lissette was a curious girl, an innocent girl who still didn't know the world, of course she would have questions.

"The truth?" He asked. She nodded. "I do not know. It has never plagued me, I do not care to know. To me, you were dropped from the sky and into my arms."

It was a beautiful answer, but it wasn't an answer.

She smiled at him before huffing slightly. "I wish I was yours."

He looked down at her and cupped her cheek. "You are mine." He assured.

Lissette nodded, though she was still thinking.

There was a sudden knock on the door before they could continue their conversation. Lestat immediately perked up, recognising the soft breaths of the man on the other side of the door. "Come on in, Louis!" He called out. Lissette was excited again, her eyes blown wide with happiness. "We're upstairs!"

The opening and closing of the door, soft footsteps treading up the stairs as he found his way to Lissette's bedroom, his face bright.

"Mister Louis!" She cried out, trying and failing to get out of bed as Lestat held her softly.

"No, no, no, mon ange." He said sternly. "It took ages to get you into bed, you're not getting out now."

She frowned and huffed as she laid back down. Louis laughed at that and Lestat just shook his head.

Instead of waiting for her to come to him, Louis sat himself on the other side of her bed, leaning down to lay himself beside her and boop her nose. "Always so excited to see me, aren't you, Miss Ettie?"

She nodded rapidly leaning closer to him. He was the first person after her papa who'd loved her and that meant more to her than he'd ever know. He wasn't obliged to love her or care for her but he did. He chose to be part of her life, knowing what he was getting into with her. She would forever hold him in her heart, this much she knew.

"Can Mister Louis tuck me in, papa? Just tonight?" Her eyes were impossible to say no to, and this fit in so perfectly with Lestat's plan. A family. Just like Lissette always wanted.

He nodded. "Of course, Lissette." He looked to the man who nodded, though his eyes did not stray from the girl.

He didn't know it then, but this was his first inkling of fatherly love.

( Louis: It gladdens me to be able to say that raising Lissette was one of the greatest joys of my life.

Daniel: Kids tend to be like that.

Louis: But not yours, right Daniel?

He did not like the casual insult.

Daniel: That's funny. You know, last time we did this interview, you said Lissette almost killed you at some point. How's that for the greatest joy of your life?

A silence followed between them. Fathers could be so complicated.

Louis: We'll get to that. I believe you can attest to this, but children give you hope. Lissette gave me hope. The purest form of love. )

Lestat looked to him. "We'll take our business elsewhere once she's asleep, hm?"

Louis nodded as he fixed the blankets on the girls bed, settling her teddy bear in her arms. Lestat left the room and she smiled up at him.

"You got your teddy?" He asked playfully. She nodded at him, eyes turning sleepy. It was said that when you feel safe around someone, your body takes it as a sign that it's alright to rest. "Did you have a good time tonight, Ettie?"

"Mhm." She hummed. "I liked Grace very much. And your mama."

"They liked you too, sugar."

"Do you have a daddy, Mister Louis? I didn't see him there." She asked lowly.

His eyes turned slightly sad as he tried his best not to look away from her. "My daddy passed. Five years ago."

"Oh." She tried to wrap her head around the concept of death. The only death she'd been faced with was followed with life. "I'm sorry. That must've made you very sad."

He smiled at her gratefully. Yes, it had been five years, but Lissette's empathy meant a lot to him. "Thank you, Ettie." She yawned. "You tired yet?" She shook her head and he laughed. "Yeah, I think you are."

"I have a question." She piped up before he could send her off to sleep.

"Okay."

"You had a mama and a daddy, and I only have a papa. Should I have a daddy too?" She asked carefully.

He furrowed his brows. "You have a father, Lissette—"

"No. Not a father, a papa, like you have a mama. It's different." She argued. She knew this to be true. "You'd make a good one, Mister Louis."

He hadn't cried much in his life, not really. He was raised strong, resilient. But her words made him want to sob in relief.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "You're the sweetest, Ettie de Lioncourt." He raised the blankets up to her chin. "Sleep, now." He rose to his feet as she yawned again, eyes dropping shut. He stood by the door, watching her small frame cuddle into the sheets. "Good night, sugar."

"Good night, daddy." She whispered into the wind.

She fell asleep before he could question her, his eyes wide. "Lissette." He called to her sleeping form, but got no answer. He could not bring himself to wake her, so instead he stood at the door and watched her with a satiated look on his face.

____________________

He walked down the stairs with joy in his heart, seeing Lestat standing with his hat in hand.

"Had the little lady fallen asleep?" He asked.

Louis only nodded, that same wide grin on his face.

Unbeknownst to him, the vampire had listened in on their entire conversation. "You seem happy. She's been known to have that effect on people. What did she say to you?"

He only shook his head. "Nothing. Just Ettie being Ettie."

"It must be more than that. Do tell."

He exhaled a laugh before finally letting up. "She uh, she...well, you know I love that kid."

"As she loves you." He replied, the word deeper than either of them truly knew.

"Right." He nodded, and then he shook his head again. "Never mind. She just said she loved me. Gave me a big kiss on the cheek and smiled like she does."

Lestat took his lie in, knowing vulnerability was never his strong suit. "Like you do. She smiles like you do."

Good night, daddy.

She smiles like you do.

Lissette was his now too, it was spoken and absorbed by the universe.

The blonde couldn't be happier about his development, but knew his plans must continue. "Shall we?" He pointed to the door.

Louis gathered himself and followed him out as Lestat continued to speak. "I feel your family has taken permanent offence to me..."

Their voices drowned out as they walked out of the townhouse, unknowing that this would be the night that changed everything.

This would be the beginning, the end.

This would be the creation.

DUBAI, 2022

He was back. Daniel Molloy was back in her life, just like her father had said he would be. He'd made sure to warn her before hand, but the fact that he barely remembered her wasn't something she was prepared for. She knew how much damage the drugs had done to his mind, but it still stung to see that lost expression on his face when she threw her arms around him.

The time they shared, though horribly short, was a nice memory. Few people made an impression on her nowadays so he was always somewhat special. Was she not special to him?

Unpacking in her room, she wondered where he was. He'd never liked the reporter, had he gone away for this? Without telling her? That would've just been rude.

She settled a few shirts into her closet before calling out to him in her mind. My love, she said. I've missed you. It was almost like he heard her immediately, which perhaps he did.

Just a moment, he said.

Then there he was. Her beautiful boy, a smile so bright it was like he hadn't smiled in centuries. Or in the week that Lissette had been gone. She always thought he looked carved from marble, made by the hands of a God she didn't believe in. Angels wept tears of joy when they saw him, and she was his angel.

"Lizzie." He said.

She laughed happily and ran towards him, his arms open for her. She pressed happy kisses to his face, his nose, his cheeks and then finally soft pecks to his lips, grasping at any part of him she could.

Happiness took new meaning when she was with him. Yes, Dublin was gorgeous, but he was even more gorgeous. He held her face and grinned. "My beautiful girl."

"I've missed you, Arun."

Armand smiled at the name. Only she could call him that. Only she had the privilege of knowing him so intimately. "I've missed you too."

Her brows furrowed. "Not that I mind your brown eyes, but...why exactly are you wearing contacts? And," she looked down. "Rashid's clothing? What happened while I was away? Where is Gideon?"

He suddenly looked bashful. "I...I decided to look in on the interview. From afar. With no questions."

"You're undercover? As Rashid?" She suddenly burst out into laughter.

He rolled his eyes and pulled her into his chest. "Don't laugh. Louis thought it was clever."

"He's your best friend, of course he thought it was clever. The two of you are the very definition of tweedle dee and tweedle dumb when you're together." Lissette continued. "And Gideon?"

She was confused when she realised he wasn't there as he was the one of them who was mostly always home. Gideon was often worried about leaving Louis for long periods of time, but he'd drawn the line at the interview apparently. He was worried, very, very worried.

Gideon Russo was one of Lissette's favorite people in the world, and she liked having her favorite people together. She'd grown used to having him around, so this was very odd.

"Left two days ago. Visiting Italy until the interview is over. Or until Louis asks him to be part of it."

Lizzie pulled back and pulled a confused face. "Asks him to be a part of it?" She asked. "This was for him, not Gideon."

"Well, we're all involved. I suspect the time will come when he invites us all in." His hand brushed over her jaw softly.

She scoffed. "He should've asked me earlier. At least I would've had time to prepare. There's many stories where I am the funniest person in the room and he might get them wrong!"

Armand laughed at her adorable rambling. "I think he was just worried. He doesn't like to cause you unnecessary pain. And we haven't discussed him in a while."

"You can say his name. It's not forbidden, you know." She sighed, folding some more clothes into her closet. "Lestat does not cause me pain, anymore. Not since...not for a while, actually." That was a lie. He'd been trying to get into contact with her for the last decade especially, but she hid it from the people in her life. She didn't care. That was also a lie. "I can discuss him. Especially the happy parts. I loved my life, Arun, you forget that."

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her head. "You're right. I know you are, you're strong. The strongest person I know."

"Coming from you, that's the greatest compliment." She said quietly.

He looked at her like every word she spoke was gospel. Even her silliness was magnificent to him.

He looked outside for a moment before looking to her. "The sun will rise soon. Shall we sleep?"

She quirked a brow. "But you don't need to sleep."

"You do." He answered.

She just smiled, a content feeling washing over her heart. "Yes, I suppose I do. But I have to eat first, and daddy wanted me at the table for dinner."

"Then I'm happy to serve." He replied.

"Oh, god, you'll be serving! Oh, this is going to be so fun!" Lissette giggled loudly at the thought.

It was an odd role play which would have Lizzie laughing for days, if not weeks. She wondered how long he'd keep the ruse going and how long she could keep it to herself.

He shook his head at her. "You are insane, you're aware of that, yes?"

"Your bar for insanity is awfully low, you're aware of that, yes?" She shot back.

He only looked at her lovingly.

_______________________

NEW ORLEANS, 1910

Lissette had been crying for most of the night. It wasn't a new thing for her to cry often, but this was different. She missed Louis. He hadn't come back in weeks, after that wonderful night when he tucked her in and treated her so kindly.

Had she said something wrong? Had she done something he didn't like?

"Sweet girl, Louis will be back, you must not weep." Lestat attempted to calm her as her little tears stained the keys of the piano.

He had her sat in his lap in front of the piano, her small fingers over his. He'd been trying to cheer her up, and music had always had a place in her heart.

"Nuh-uh." She said. "He left. He doesn't like us anymore." She was so sure of this, and she didn't like being ignored. She hadn't seen the sun in a while because of the lack of him in her life. To her, Louis and the sun were one and the same; bright shining beacons of light.

"Lissette," he sighed, manoeuvring her to face him. He held her small face in his hands. "Louis isn't like us. Our family is different from his, he's only getting accustomed to it. He needs time."

"Too much time." She huffed, nuzzling further into his hands.

He chuckled slightly at her anger. "Yes. It angers me too." He mimicked her facial expression.

They looked so much like each other in that moment, like mirrors of what was and what will be. He was right when he said that she was a part of him, a miniature version of him, in looks at least.

She loved her papa so much it hurt sometimes. Later on she'd think to herself how awful of a person he truly was, and how awfully she still craved him, but not yet.

She wondered to herself when exactly Louis would be back. She missed him, she really, really missed him. It felt lonely without him, even with her papa. Lissette had quickly gotten used to having more than one person around, and going so quickly back to only being a duo was odd. But she would persevere, she was strong. Lestat was enough company for her, at least for now.

"I just hope he comes back soon. I need to have words with him." She said as angrily as she could.

Her anger was so adorable. Her sadness though, was heartbreaking. Every time he saw her cry, Lestat swore a piece of his heart fell with her tears.

"And you'll be more petrifying than death herself, I'm sure of it." He pressed a kiss to her hair.

_______________________

Lissette was trying her very best to read by candlelight that night, cuddled in her bed and upset because papa had some important business to take care of and couldn't read to her.

He said whatever he was doing would make her very happy, to which she had furrowed her brows and asked is he was buying her chocolate. He laughed and placed a kiss on her head, whispering it's something much better. She didn't know anything could be better than chocolate.

She squinted slightly at the small font of the words, unable to keep up with the story. English had such silly words, she thought to herself.

There was a loud thud from downstairs, Lissette furrowing her brows at the sound. She was used to these kind of noises, knowing her father needed to feed so she expected them. Outside of home, loud noises frightened her, but she knew she was safe here and Lestat would never put her in any danger.

Slightly muffled voices came through the door of her room and she decided to see what was happening. Her small feet padded down the stairs, her face questioning and brimming with curiosity. "Papa?" She called out.

No answer.

Then she saw her father seated on the third step of the staircase, and heard the screams of a dying man. She turned her head to see another vampire feeding on some odd looking man. The shock flooded her system.

"Oh, my dear Lissette, did we wake you?" Her papa asked as he beckoned her over. She walked over to him carefully, dubious of what was happening. She crawled into his arms. "I hope you like your gift. Consider it a belated birthday present."

The vampires head shot up from the throat of the man, eyes blown wide in ecstasy. Lestat had told her what it was like for a vampire to feed for the first time and that nothing truly matched the pleasure of that first sip.

She recognised him with an excited gasp. "Mister Louis!" She cried out excitedly, skipping over her father to run to him.

He'd fallen onto the floor next to the corpse, not expecting Lissette to be there, not even thinking about Lissette because of his hunger. She hopped over the dead body and threw herself into his arms. "Ettie wait—!" He cried out, afraid he would drink her blood as well and would never forgive himself.

But she hugged him and he felt...nothing. No hunger.

Lestat smiled. "You don't have to worry about the temptation. Lissette has been a regular drinker of my blood, your makers blood, our connection transcends emotions. Your body can feel it in her, you'll not wish to harm her." He explained.

( Daniel: Wait, wait. He was feeding her his blood?

Louis nodded.

Daniel: What kind of fucked up daddy-daughter bonding ritual is that?

Louis: According to Lestat it was a necessary means of protection. The blood of a vampire makes mortals like yourself heal faster, feel stronger, like they can do anything. And now, it was his way of protecting her from me and my hunger.

Daniel: So no urges? None at all?

Louis: Not in the slightest. )

He let the words sink in before sighing in relief, holding her in his arms like a lifeline. "Oh, baby. Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." She pulled away from him with a wide grin. It was eerie, her lack of reaction. His eyes grew wide with worry as he tried to move her away or cover her eyes. "You shouldn't be seein' this. You need to go back upstairs. Just go upstairs. Lestat!" He cried out desperately. Lissette's innocence was at stake here, her childhood.

But Lestat laughed. "Oh, mon cher, this is nothing new for her. She is my daughter after all, she knows who I am. And now she knows who you are."

Louis was horrified. She'd known? This wonderful child with a thirst for life, had been living with a monstrous creature, and she'd known?

( Daniel: That sounds like a horror movie.

Louis: It wasn't unlike one. I was terrified. Lissette, little Ettie, fully aware and accustomed to the death that lingered in that house. A child; the very symbol of innocence, surrounded by sin.

Soft steps echoed across the room.

Lissette: I do hope you're discussing me. It's a riveting topic, I'm sure. )

________________________

DUBAI, 2022

Daniel stopped talking. Something that was hard to achieve, but the second Lissette walked through the room, he stopped talking. The shock of seeing her again, after almost fifty years had set in.

She was here, she was real. He finally knew for certain, Lissette de Lioncourt was real. He was old, he knew this, but he'd always wondered if she'd been part of some drug addled hallucination. He was glad to know she wasn't, glad to know she was still alive.

His mouth opened and closed as if he was looking for words that didn't exist.

I do hope you're discussing me. Riveting topic I'm sure.

Yes, she was. She was the most riveting topic, perhaps. Her voice was angelic, like silk brushing his ear drums. What was happening?

Louis smiled at her. "Yes, we were, sugar. How do you feel? Rashid help you settle in okay?"

She almost broke character. "Yes, yes he did. I feel wonderful, daddy. But I am awfully hungry."

He waved her over to him. "Sit, eat." He pointed to one of the servers and then back to her. He quickly settled a bowl of blood in front of her. She smiled and whispered a quick thank you before digging in.

Daniel was still quiet, staring at her.

She looked back, eyes enclosed on him. He still had young eyes, though he'd say something different. He was still a bright young reporter with a point of view to her. He was still Danny to her.

Louis spoke. "Now, where were we?" But the reporter didn't reply. He looked between them, catching the tension. A smirk made its way onto his face. "Cat got your tongue, Daniel?"

He cleared his throat immediately, snapping his gaze away from the girl and shakily meeting Louis'. "Uh, yeah. I mean, no! No." He spluttered.

"Are you alright, Danny?" Lissette asked softly.

Her question was so genuine. So sweet. So her.

"Fine. I'm fine." He shrugged off her question. "You're a vampire. Liz," Liz? Why did he call her that? "just saw you. You're petrified. Something about sin and innocence." He filled in for Louis.

"Right." He nodded. "Lissette can fill in the rest of the blanks for herself, I believe." He turned to his daughter, face questioning.

She looked down and licked her lips clean. Her cheeks turned red.

"Huh. I didn't know she would be part of the interview." Daniel raised a brow.

"Neither did she until about half an hour ago." She spat, glancing at Louis.

His eyes softened. "Only if you want to be, Ettie. I'm not gonna force you to do anything."

You can choose this, were the unspoken words. You can choose how to tell your story, this choice you can make.

She took a deep breath and answered. "I'll do it. I can offer a...more nuanced portrait of things, I believe. Though, do keep in mind, I was awfully young at the beginning of things. I'll be speaking of it with a more childlike view."

Daniel nodded. "On the record, right?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes, Danny, on the record."

There it was again. Danny.

He looked at her for a moment, before lowering his face towards the microphone of the computer. "Introducing the vampire Lissette de Lioncourt, the daughter of Lestat de Lioncourt."

"The daughter of Louis de Pointe du Lac." She corrected. "Lestat hasn't been my father in years." Lie. "I am Louis' daughter, no one else's."

I no longer belong to Lestat.

Louis' smile turned so bright, it lit up the entire room. The father and daughter looked at each other like there was nothing else in the world, like everything else had just fallen away. Like he was hers and she was his.

"The daughter of Louis de Pointe du Lac," he said. "The most recent addition to our book. So," he looked up. "Lissette, Louis had just been made a vampire. Louis who you loved, how was that for you?"

She smiled, and the laugh that left her lips was exactly like Louis'.

________________

NEW ORLEANS, 1910

Louis couldn't tear his eyes away from her. His sweet angel girl, who he believed was so innocent and who smiled in the wake of blood just because he was there. The thought warmed him, in a sick sort of way.

He pressed his palms against her face, eyes creased with an unknown sort of grief. She reached out to dab the blood off his mouth with the sleeve of her white nightdress, staining her clothes crimson all while wearing the sweetest grin in the world.

( Lissette: It was amazing. It was beautiful, he was beautiful. It meant Louis could be with me, with us, forever.

Daniel: And the idea of forever? Of eternity? It didn't bother you.

Lissette: Children have no concept of forever, Danny. I was no different. To me it just meant Mister Louis would be there when I woke up, when I went to sleep, and for everything in between. )

She leaned in closer and kissed his bloody cheek. "Your eyes are very beautiful now, Mister Louis. Like an angel."

His heart broke. He wanted to cry, to weep in her arms and thank her over and over again until the word cut through his tongue.

Lestat rose to his feet and moved the body away, wrapping it up in one of their very fancy carpets.

"For our next carpet, I'm thinking Persian. Arabesque maybe. Certainly need a more efficient way of ridding the waste." He said as he rolled the body up in the carpet, ready to dispose of their leftovers.

Lissette frowned. "I really liked that carpet."

"I'll get you another one. A better one." Lestat suggested with a grin. He took in Louis' frightened state, speaking as if to calm him. "The first time is the most unwieldy. Soon you'll be a natural. You'll come to enjoy it, its variations, little surprises."

His voice shook, horror embedding itself in his bones. "I-I gotta go home." He stuttered.

"This is your home now, Louis. Breathe." Lestat tried to comfort him, convince him that everything would be okay.

But nothing could help the new fledgling. "I... I gotta collect money from the cribs."

Lissette pulled a confused face from beside Louis. Where were all these concerns coming from? They were together now, they were all alright. Why was he so worried?

"I have all the money we need. Breathe."

"I have to go see Grace and Paul." He breathed, rising to his feet and Ettie with him.

"Oh, dear." Lestat sighed, nearing him slowly.

"You ain't fuckin' hearin' me!" Louis roared, shoving his companion harshly and throwing him against the wall with one rough touch.

Lissette gasped as the sound echoed across her home, running to her father worriedly. "Why did you do that?!"

Lestat grunted, whispering it's okay, it's okay, to his daughter.

He took in the scene before him, heavy breaths falling from his lips. "I... I need to go home." He opened the door and rushed out, reaching for what was familiar and safe.

"Louis, wait—!" The girl cried out desperately.

Lestat sighed, leaning against the wall. "He's going to find that very difficult."

Lissette was breathing heavily, clutching onto her father's shirt "You have to go get him, papa! He'll get hurt! He can't get hurt!" She begged, tears in her eyes.

"No, no, no, no, no." He shook his head, standing to his feet and then leaning down to be face to face with her. "Sometimes, my dark miracle, people must learn from experience. He'll come back if he knows what's good for him."

People must learn from experience. Let him get hurt so he comes back and realises Lestat was right all along. Like she would many times in the future.

Her bottom lip quivered slightly. "But—"

"Trust me, Lissette." He interrupted kindly. "He's going to be alright. We're going to be alright."

We. There was a we now. She liked the sound of that.

A few more minutes passed like that, Lissette eventually settling back into bed as she impatiently waited for Louis' return.

She was so frightened he wouldn't come back, or would come back damaged beyond repair. Her papa did not leave her side, curling up in bed with her to calm her nerves. There would be no we if he didn't come back.

Louis was a part of their family now, he couldn't leave.

"Lemme in!" An unmistakable pained scream came from outside, the metal bars of their gate rattling intensely. Her heart stopped as Lestat rushed downstairs, throwing a blanket around his shoulders to protect him from the sun. A violent pounding against the door came again. "Let me in, God damn it! Open the fucking door!"

He was in so much pain. Lissette could feel it in his voice.

Finally the screaming stopped, and Lissette's heart settled. Her breathing became regular again as she tried to listen to what was being said.

"The sun gives life to everything but us. I should have taught you that. The life of a vampire has its challenges and its rewards..." her papa said, opening the sky light and letting rays of sunshine flow into the darkness of home. "...but I think New Orleans, with its music, culture, cuisine, shipping yards, conventioneers, thrill-seeking tourists far-flung from their homes, the laissez-faire attitude of the local police force" he chuckled, letting the sun fade away as he closed up the light. "oh, yes... the perfect setting for a vampire home...a vampire family...a vampire romance."

Their words faded away and Lissette frowned to herself. She hated not knowing what was going on.

________________________

NO ONE'S POV

Louis' charred body shook. "Ettie...is she—"

"She is fine. Concerned about you. Immensely so." His voice was deep and velvety. "Lissette is nonnegotiable. My life, is her life, is our life. We can be a family, Louis."

He let the words settle in as the coffin opened up and Lestat settled into it. "I ain't sleepin' in there."

Lestat laughed at that. "We'll get you your own soon enough. You've had a long life, Louis, and such an extraordinary one ahead." He purred. "Have a rest." But his companion was still unsure. "It's okay. You can be on top."

_______________________

LISSETTE'S POV

She stayed up for hours thinking of Louis, worry clouding her mind. She couldn't take it anymore, holding her teddy bear and crawling out of bed. Slowly, she made her way to her father's coffin room.

It was very peaceful there, a kind of night where everything just fell into place. Lissette would later learn that it was anything but, that it was only days before that Louis' brother had died and that Lestat had turned him in a moment of utmost grief. But as of now, everything felt right.

She walked over to the coffin, knocking her fist against the wood. "Papa?" She asked carefully.

The lid cracked open, Lestat and Louis both in fancy, silk night clothes holding onto each other. Louis' skin was still charred, burnt by the very thing Lissette identified him as. That made her sad.

Her papa smiled softly at her. "Yes, dear girl?"

Louis looked up through newly emerald eyes. "What is it, sugar?" Even in the utmost pain, he still worried for her.

She leaned in close to him. "Are you alright? Does it still hurt?" She reached out to trace her fingers softly on his burnt skin.

He would've flinched if it was anyone but her, but couldn't bring himself to show that her gentle touch could hurt him. "I'm okay. Don't you worry about me."

For a minute she just stood there, unsure of what to do. She didn't want to go, but didn't know if she was welcome to stay. Maybe they only wanted each other for now and she'd understand. But she wanted to be with them, at least for tonight. At least for a while before she grew up.

Lestat knew this. He knew exactly who she was and what she needed. He smiled at her and then looked to Louis. "Well," he said, eyes back on his daughter. "Come on in. We need our rest."

She almost jumped in with a frightening excitement, settling in on her father's chest and letting Louis wrap his arm around her. Now she could sleep, with her new family.

A beat of silence passed before she broke it.

"Can you be my daddy now, Mister Louis?" She asked sleepily.

His arm tightened around her, the pain exiting his body and being replaced by a light he was told he'd be unable to feel from now on.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, I can do that, baby."

She smiled with her eyes shut and snuggled her teddy bear closer to her body. "That's nice." She yawned. "Good night, papa. Good night, daddy."

Lestat pressed a kiss to the crown her her head. "Good night, mon ange."

"Good night, sugar." Louis said.

_______________________

Months passed with Louis, Lissette and Lestat spending each and every night together, except for the nights papa deemed date nights. She wasn't quite sure what he meant, but he said he'd explain soon enough.

Daddy wasn't very affectionate on a general basis, but he was with her because he knew she needed it. She fed off of soft touches and kind words, and as a growing girl, required it often.

"I'll never get good at it! Never, ever!" She cried out, getting off of her piano stool, stomping her legs stubbornly against the floor. She kept messing up Hungarian Rhapsodies, which was horrible considering it was one of her papas favourite pieces. She wanted to learn it and show it to him, watch his face turn proud. She wanted to see his eyes light up with the knowledge that his daughter was almost as talented as he was.

She would never get there if she kept fucking things up. That was a word they used often, fuck. Other words too, words that she technically wasn't supposed to say but did anyway. They were funny, and always got her point across. Like when papa and daddy were talking about how she could often be too emotional and she overheard.

_______________

"I'm not sayin' I don't love it. She feels a lot and that's a precious thing. She just needs to learn how to deal with things better." Louis claimed, sitting across from Lestat on the couch.

Lestat scoffed. "Deal with things better? She's a vibrant expression of the universe, a cavern of echoing emotion, she does not need to learn anything." He claimed, his dramatics always getting the best of him. Lissette giggled to herself, hidden comfortably by the stairs.

She could do no wrong in his eyes, and mischievously, she often took advantage of that.

"Lestat," her daddy sighed. "She's getting older. Things'll get harder to deal with, it's better she outgrows the dramatics now. I mean, she'll be a teenager soon and they ain't so kind."

"What nonsense! My Lissette is the kindest girl in the world, a few measly bodily changes won't change that." He was so sure of himself, and thankfully what he said would be true. Lissette would become a very kindhearted teenager. "If you really feel so strongly about it, discuss it with her."

"Nah, I don't wanna upset her. She's got the confidence of a bullfighter, I'm not gonna mess that up for her." He shook his head. "That's why I'm talking to you about it."

"This is nothing. This is a nothing issue, mon cher."

"It's not, though." He said, undeterred.

Lissette chose that moment to pop up, her bright blonde hair moving with her. "Yes, it is."

Louis and Lestat both turned their heads to look at her, eyes wide. They were vampires, sure, but they truly thought Lissette was upstairs drawing in her room. She was very easy to distract, at least that's what they thought.

Louis looked at her with concern while papa began to laugh. "I didn't mean anything by it, Ettie. Honest. I'm just worried."

"Yes, mon petit, he's worried you're as dramatic as your dear papa." Lestat said with a fake look of shock.

"That's not what I said."

"It's alright, daddy." She said, settling in between them. "I can be very expressive. But no one can be more dramatic than papa. He's a fucking actor, after all."

They both paused at that and then began talking over each other like the concerned parents they were.

"What did you say, young lady—" Louis.

"Where did you learn that word—" Lestat.

"Where did you hear that—"

"From you." She admitted freely. "You say it a lot. A lot, a lot."

Louis pulled a face. "No, we don't."

"'Lestat, what the fuck are you doing?! Louis, where are my fucking slippers?! You fucking idiot! I'm not cleaning your fucking mess!'—" Lestat interrupted her rather colourful imitation by placing his hand over her mouth.

"Alright, alright. We understand, you don't have to go on."

________________

Louis immediately rose from his seat on the couch, Lestat was out hunting that night, on his own as the other struggled to maintain his hunger. His eyes creased with worry as he neared her, quick steps against the carpeted floor. He took in her frazzled state, the light green dress she wore flying around her as she stomped her foot against the ground.

He frowned. "What is it, Ettie? What's wrong?"

She looked up at him with angry eyes. "What is it?" She seethed. "What is it?! I'm never going to learn it, I'm never going to get better at it! That's such a stupid fucking question!"

"Hey, now, what did we say about that word?" He chastised. He had quickly become the stricter parent, though their version of strict wasn't exactly that. It just meant he was the one who spoiled her less.

Her cheeks turned rosey as she looked down. "That it's for grown ups." She mumbled.

"And what are you not?"

"A grown up." She said quietly.

"That's right." He nodded with a pointed look. "Now, you wanna talk about it using our normal tones? Not the screaming?"

She nodded shyly and the let out a heavy sigh. Louis always knew how to calm her using logic, while Lestat usually joined in on her dramatics. Both had their merits, bur she liked the way Louis did it more. "It's just difficult, daddy. I'm trying, I'm trying so hard, but my hands just won't—they won't work."

He took her hand and led her back to the piano, sitting next to her on the stool. He put an arm around her shoulders and held her close before taking her hands in his own. He played with her fingers for a moment before settling them back onto the piano.

In such a short time he'd grown to settle into the fatherly role quite well. Lissette said so, at least. He held her hands closer to her face. "You see these hands?"

She nodded confusedly.

"They're gonna grow. Just like the rest of you. You're trying to do something really hard before you're ready. You can't play 'cause you can't reach the keys, baby. You'll be able to with time." He swore to her with a soft smile, placing a kiss on her head. "It just takes a little time."

He heard her let out a shaky sigh and cuddle into him. "Papa's gonna be so disappointed."

He pulled away with a laugh. "And what makes you think that?"

"You've seen him play! He's amazing, the best! I want to be like him!" She cried passionately.

Louis sighed at her words, clenching his eyes shut. "Ettie." He said, knowing exactly who Lestat was. He loved him, yes, but did he think he was a good role model? Was he someone Lissette, his daughter, should look up to? He wasn't sure. "Your father—"

"My ears are burning." Speak of the devil. "My gorgeous girl!" He exclaimed happily, bright eyes landing on Lissette.

"Papa!" She ran into his open arms. "How was hunting?" She asked as he propped her up on his hip.

"Uneventful. Especially since your daddy refuses to join me." He threw a pointed look to Louis, who looked down. "You were discussing me, I take it. Riveting topic I'm sure."

Louis spoke up. "Ettie's just a little upset about her piano—"

"Uh-uh!" The girl insisted with a look of urgency.

Lestat furrowed his brows, looking from his companion to his daughter. "Her piano skills? Ma petit, you're the most talented musician I know, second only to myself. Whatever would you be upset about?"

"I can't tell you." She insisted. "And daddy can't tell you either!"

He scoffed. "Daughter, saviour, dark miracle, you must tell me. The only way I can help, is if I know."

"Daddy helped me. I feel better now."

Suddenly the air shifted. Lissette felt it, a negative emotion bleeding into the atmosphere of the room. It made her uncomfortable. If she had been older, she would've seen the sour look on her papas face and the way her daddy looked straight back at him with some sort of challenge.

( Louis: I believe that was the first time it truly occurred to him that making me Lissette's father meant he'd have to share for once in his life.

Lissette: I did not blame him, to be honest. He'd had me to himself for so long, it had to be odd to have me look to someone else for comfort. But Lestat was...possessive.

Louis: To say the least.

Daniel: Yeah, I'm picking up on that. So, he makes Louis your dad and then what? He doesn't like it when he acts like your dad?

Lissette: He was contradictory like that. It stemmed more from his need for control, than anything else. He had a vision of our family, and in that vision he was the sun and stars to both of us. He didn't account for our relationship growing so strong, perhaps even surpassing the one I had with him.

Lissette still wasn't sure if this was true. If her relationship with Louis was stronger than it was with Lestat, but it had lasted longer. It had run deeper, and their similarities were so obvious. But de Lioncourt spirit ran through her veins, that much she was sure of. )

"Did he now?" Lestat spat. "Isn't that nice of him? Next time, you come to me, hm?"

Lissette wasn't sure how to respond to that. She just looked at him confusedly.

"She can come to me too." Louis said, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm her father too, right? Your life, her life, our life. Isn't that what you said?"

He paused and his face grew harder. His grip on Lissette tighter as if to say; this is mine. "Yes, mon cher. That was it." He waited for a moment before allowing a smile to grace his features. He turned to Lissette. "You sleep with me today, yes?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" She nodded enthusiastically. She'd missed being in the coffin with her father.

He laughed. "Wonderful! The sun will be out soon, shall we?" She smiled. Lestat looked to Louis. "Louis." He nodded his head quickly at him.

That was only the beginning of his spiteful jealousy. The next few years would prove to be more and more difficult.

_______________________

NEW ORLEANS, 1912

Even after two years, for whatever reason, daddy still insisted on visiting his old family. While Lissette loved his sister Grace and even his mama was sweet to her, she knew papa wasn't welcome.

He went along to please Louis, to make him happy and content.

( Louis: My unwillingness to separate from humanity was a constant struggle in my vampiric existence. I felt it was essential

to maintain ties. But it was getting more difficult. )

Tonight, Louis and Lestat were getting ready for an opera, a wonderful show he assured. Lissette was to stay home and practice her piano. She was a peaceful child and they trusted her on her own.

"The curtain goes up at eight." Lestat reminded him. Louis was hand in hand with Lissette who was adorned in a lovely lavender dress.

"We'll only be here an hour." He assured.

"They'll seat us late, and we'll miss Nora's entrance with the Christmas tree." He added, as if urging him to hurry.

"You ain't gon' miss anything." Louis said, walking up to his home. His mother stood like a judgemental figure before him, eyes hard and cold.

She scoffed. "Look what the wind blew in."

Louis lowered his head respectfully. "Mama."

He walked up the steps to place a kiss on her cheek. Lissette stepped back and took her papas hand. It was clear there was growing resentment in Louis' old family, one neither Lissette nor Lestat enjoyed.

"You remember Lestat. And his daughter, Lissette." He nodded his head towards the two blondes, who in that moment looked so very similar. It was frightening to think that she wasn't biologically his and yet somehow exuded him from her pores.

Lestat took her hand with fake kindness. "Madame de Pointe du Lac, all the kindness for the invitation."

"I don't remember inviting him, but please, take your overdressed self

and have a fine time." She said coldly, then looking to Lissette and her eyes softened slightly. "Hi, sweetheart."

She smiled politely. "Hello, Madame."

"Madame." Lestat nodded in farewell. "Louis." It was more snappy.

"Take Ettie, will you?" He asked the blonde. "She don't need to be runin' around here and gettin lost."

"I was planning on it." He said.

Louis leaned down and pressed a kiss on her head. "We'll be out of here soon, sugar, okay?"

"Okay." She said quietly.

She didn't like it when Louis went back to his old family. He always seemed to want things to change after, he and papa always fought after. The loud yelling hurt her ears and made her think one of them would leave, slip through her fingers like water.

That's why after every fight they had, she'd sneak into one of their coffins and hold them as tight as possible. She'd beg them to make up and within a few days they usually would. She had quickly become the thing that bridged them together through darker times.

This would eventually become the resentment that festered deep within her. The thing they'd expect from her in every possible way.

She walked with her father towards the banjo band, but quickly decided she wanted to be held again. Lestat sat in one of the seats outside and she hopped onto his lap.

He sighed longingly, pulling out his cigarettes and a match out of his jacket. Lissette watched him curiously. "When can I try that?" She asked as he lit up his smoke.

He laughed slightly. "Later. Much later. You'll try it with me then."

"You and daddy do it all the time. Why can't I?"

He pulled her closer to prove a point, letting her inhale the smoke around her. She coughed heavily, her eyes watering slightly. "That's why." He said. "You're too small. Patience, my dear. You'll do this and much more."

"Will daddy stop visiting his family by then?" She asked casually.

He paused and considered this. Her words hit him harder than he thought they would. He couldn't understand Louis' connection to a family that clearly did not feel the same way anymore. He had new family now, a better family. One who wanted him and all his flaws.

Lissette had called him beautiful when he was soaked in blood with murder on his hands. Was this not enough?

"I hope so." He said. "I really do."

She yawned. "Can we go home now? I want to squeeze in some piano practice before I go to sleep."

"Just a little longer, mon ange. Daddy'll be back soon."

____________

A few weeks passed and the energy in their home had been tumultuous, to say the least. While they tried to keep things quiet and civil for Lissette, she could sense the bad energy between them.

Nothing was explosive, they didn't fight, but everything felt wrong. Her bones shook with every awkward silence that befell them. She tried to ask, tried to make things better but she couldn't.

She wept softly in her room, hoping desperately that Louis and Lestat would not hear her. It was all alright, she told herself, but it was not true. Anger and resentment had built up in their walls and she felt every bit of it.

Especially tonight, as Louis' kills had caught up to him. One kill, at least. She could hear their yelling from where the incinerator lay, and she wondered if this should be one of those moments where she should interfere. Well, she thought to herself, why should this time be any different from before?

She was there to fix everything. She was there to keep the peace, that was her job. Her papa had always called her his peace, and that was a role she needed to live up to.

But her body couldn't move. She just cried harder as the argument continued. With the slam of the incinerator, they both retreated into their coffins.

( Louis: In recent years, I've come to the realisation that the chaos in our home did more damage than I had thought to Lissette.

Lissette: Daddy, it's not—

Louis: No, it's true. You were a child, living in an unstable home. That is something I'll never be able to make up for.

Lissette: Don't be so hard on yourself. You weren't the only adult in that house, and you were a young vampire. You had your own inner pain. Lestat, on the other hand.

Daniel: I'm with her on this one. Blondie brought you in and didn't think there'd be some trouble? An adjustment period, maybe? )

She stood outside their door, her eyes pressed against the wood.

"I don't like sleeping angry." Her papa said. "For the record, if disrespect was done to you, I would have killed him myself." He continued. "Well, what can I do to make it up to you?"

The coffin from beside him creeped open. "I wanna buy the Fair Play Saloon."

Daddy wanted to buy the fancy club with the pretty lights? She'd like that.

"That's ambitious."

"If you don't wanna help, I'll do it myself." He countered.

"Ridiculous of you to mix human

and vampire business. It always ends poorly." Lestat argued. "But how can I stop you? How can I say no to you?"

And suddenly everything was alright again, and her body stopped shaking. Her breathing evened out, and she retreated to her room.

______________________

GLIMPSES OF A DAMNED CHILDHOOD

NEW ORLEANS, 1912-1917

LISSETTE DE LIONCOURT, AGES 10-15

1913

Ever since Louis had purchased his club, everything had sort of evened out in their home. He had his business and Lestat dedicated himself to Lissette's education even more so than before. It seemed he was constantly preparing her for something that would take a toll on her future, something earthshaking and she couldn't quite grasp what that was.

She was eleven now, slowly growing and her understanding of the world with her. Lissette had started to come to the realisation that papa was actually growing jealous of her and Louis. He directed his anger at Louis and his carefully crafted spite at Lissette.

He'd whisper in her ear as she lay her head on his chest. You'll always be my favourite, ma petit.

I hope you'll always come back to me.

Because I was the first in your life. You know how important that is, don't you?

My beautiful, talented, intelligent girl.

The last one was something he'd say to her over and over again, as often as she needed to hear it. But she was growing to want more than just her fathers. She would often try to sneak out in the mornings, just to feel the sun on her face. She'd draw landscapes where the sun would cover the entire paper like a blanket, she'd watch as children would walk home at night after a day in the park, their skin tan or burned red, their hands rough and faces smiling.

She'd never had a friend, she realised sadly. Her papa told her he and Louis were enough, but she wasn't sure. She tried once, to talk to a boy when papa and daddy were feeding. He had ashy brown hair and green eyes and a sweet chipmunk smile. He'd dropped his ball and it had rolled towards the bench she was sitting on.

She looked down and picked it up. The boy stared at her and smiled. "You gonna throw that back over?" He asked.

She looked back up at him, eyes wide and words unable to leave his face. She stuttered her words out, "u-um, yes. Of course!" And she took it into her hands and threw it back at him.

He looked at her for a second. "You live around here?" She nodded shyly. "Haven't seen you."

"I-I—my parents don't really let me go out." She answered.

"Why do you talk like that?" He asked rudely.

She furrowed her brows. "Like what?"

He answered honestly. "Like you don't know how to talk."

Her eyes began to blur with tears. Like she didn't know how to talk? What did that even mean? Was it her accent? Or the stutter she didn't know she had? She was sure she sounded stupid, so, so stupid. How come she couldn't talk to anyone but her parents and an adult or two around her? Why did children her own age frighten her so much?

She just didn't know how to be. She was immediately uncomfortable when he approached her, like her skin wasn't her own. She needed to learn how to talk, she needed to learn how to be, she needed to be better.

Her silence struck him and suddenly his eyes grew mischievous. "What? Are you simple?"

Simple? What did that mean? Papa said she was a complex girl full of variety.

"Oh, damn. You are." And then he started laughing at her. He laughed at her.

Her heart broke. Why was he laughing? What had she done that was so funny? This felt cruel. This felt mean.

She felt small, much smaller than before. Lissette curled into herself and the boy kept laughing.

He looked her up and down before throwing his ball up in the air and walking away, chuckles still falling from his lips.

"Lissette?" The voice of her papa came from beside her. She watched as he wiped blood from his mouth and sat beside her. He took in her saddened state. "What is it, my love, what happened?"

She just shook her head and cried into his chest. That was the day she realised that there was something deeply wrong with her, that she was missing one of the vital pieces of what it meant to exist, and that she would never be fixed.

_________________

1914

Louis had Lissette by his side and Lestat was on her other side. She lay sandwiched between them as the younger vampire read to her.

"I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture will always remain young. It will never be older than this particular day in June...if it were only the other way!" He read dramatically from Oscar Wilde's magnum opus, the Picture of Dorian Gray. After Dracula, it had quickly become Lissette's favourite book.

She giggled. "Do you think Oscar Wilde knew about vampires when he wrote that?"

Lestat laughed loudly at that. "Wouldn't that be a laugh? Imagine one like us debating and discussing literature with that queen. He'd be consummated and drained within the hour."

"Lestat!" Louis chided. "Not in front of Ettie!"

"Oh, please. As if she doesn't know what we do in the privacy of our room."

He paused for a moment and Lissette didn't take much offence to it. "Did you—did you have the talk with her?"

She furrowed her brows. "The talk?"

"Do you mean did we discuss the carnal nature of being alive? Yes, we did." Lestat answered casually, playing with his daughters hair.

Louis' eyes widened as he let the information sink in. He didn't remember how or who had taught him about sex, but he knew he couldn't ask his parents about it. How could Lissette and Lestat discuss this so casually? What exactly did he tell her? On top of that, he thought they'd have this discussion as a family so he could soften whatever vulgar thing Lestat would inevitably say.

He also thought it would be later on, much later on. She was still so young, and barely had any contact with children her age. Why did she need to know? Couldn't she stay a child for a little longer? Couldn't she be his baby for a little longer?

"Oh, yes. That. It sounds interesting." She said, absentmindedly.

"Yeah, well, you won't be doing that for a long time." Louis said carefully, readjusting the book on his lap.

"That's what the girls at your club do, right?" She asked. Louis didn't answer. "The one with the black hair; Andrea. She's very pretty. I think I like her."

With no friends her own age, she'd befriended a lot of the girls as her daddy's club. While her parents would have their fun at the club, they'd decided she was finally old enough to run around on her own, especially since the employees knew to always keep an eye on her. Last time she'd run off and been accosted by a mean looking man, the employee who was in charge of looking after her had been fired and then never heard from again. They'd learned to make sure she was safe after that.

She'd sit with the working girls and watch as they applied their makeup and laughed together. She'd play cards with them often, and as the budding young strategist she was, she always won. She liked Andrea the most. She had dark skin, darker hair and the most beautiful brown eyes she'd ever seen. She'd asked her a lot of questions about her work after her conversation with papa and luckily she'd filled in a lot of gaps.

She grew more and more enamoured with her as the months passed. She was only six years older than Lissette and she found that she finally had a female figure in her life to look up to. She grew jealous when she saw slimy men out their hands on her, but Andrea assured that she was well compensated for it. She still didn't like it.

Louis pulled a curious face. "Andrea?" He asked before a smirk grew across his face. "You like her, huh?"

Lissette nodded excitedly. "Yes. She gives me butterflies. She's pretty and kind and has very soft skin."

Lestat laughed from beside her. "Like fathers like daughter, I suppose. Is it only girls, ma petit?"

"I don't think so. It's just people. Pretty people, fascinating people. I just like them." She answered honestly.

"Hm." The blonde hummed. "You're just like me then. Welcome to a world of wonder, my girl."

"Not for a while though. A long while." Louis chimed in. "Can we get back to the book now, please? We gotta sleep soon and you know Ettie ain't gonna settle unless we finish this chapter."

"Yes, please." She asked as she readjusted herself on the bed. The soft lull of Louis' voice began again.

___________________

1916

Lissette had recently turned thirteen, and her birthday was a lavish affair as always. Lestat spared no expense, buying the most beautiful dresses and the most fascinating books. The townhouse had been decorated in her favorite colours, pink, white and black, with banners and ribbons everywhere.

Her fathers had insisted on wearing party hats and she giggled when Louis secured the pointy hat to her head. "Thank you, daddy." He tapped her nose.

"You're welcome, sugar. Thirteen years today, my God." He walked her over to the table full of presents. "Who said you were allowed to grow up?"

"No one. No one at all, so the fact that you're doing so is an utter nuisance." Lestat came up behind her, tackling her in a tight hug and carrying her up as she squealed. "My beautiful little girl becomes a woman. Horrible." He flicked her temple.

"That's rude, papa."

"Yes, yes. So," he clapped his hands before her. "as much as I destain the idea of you growing, this is the most important day of the year and should be treated as such. Here." He handed her a velvet box.

She gasped excitedly, taking the box into her hands and being quick to open it. Within it was a golden ring encrusted with a symbol on it. Something like a lion with embellishments all around it. It was beautiful.

"Our family crest." Lestat said with an emotional voice, his smile proud. "The time has come for you to truly understand who and what we are. I hope you value the name as much as I do."

She gave a watery grin and launched herself into his arms. "Not nearly as much as I value the man who gave it to me." She pulled back and slipped the ring on. "Oh, papa, it's beautiful! I love it. Daddy, look! Look!" She turned to Louis with an innocent happiness.

Louis looked at Lestat's face and how it morphed into a look of fatherly pride before he looked to his daughter. "It's gorgeous, baby." Then he flourished his hand and bowed before her, reaching out to hold her hand. "Madame de Lioncourt."

She curtsied. "Monsiour de Pointe du Lac." She gave him her hand and they began to waltz around the room without music. Laughter spilled from them both.

Lestat settled himself at the piano, beginning a soft simple tune. He watched as his daughter danced with a light in her eyes she'd had ever since he found her.

Lissette felt herself grow comfortable, flinging herself around the room like a wild girl. Daddy smiled and laughed with her and that was the day she promised herself she'd never leave him.

( Daniel: So even with the drawbacks, you managed to have a childhood.

Lissette: A wonderful childhood. Full of love and art and affection. Don't get me wrong, there were always going to be things lacking, but isn't that true for every life?

Daniel: Well, most kids you know, see the sun every once in a while. Socialise with other kids, talk to someone other than their parents and their parents workers.

Lissette: If you're trying to say they fucked up, Danny, you're not wrong. But what parent didn't?

Daniel knew she was trying to excuse every mistake her fathers had made with her. She may have said she hated Lestat but her eyes told a different story. She may have said that she had forgiven Louis, but every time a hurtful memory came forward, she wouldn't meet his eyes.

Children very rarely saw their parents the way Lissette did, as infallible. Louis was an angel to her, her beautiful angel. He'd never really make a mistake in her eyes. He thought that, unaware of what would come after the last Mardi Gras Lissette would ever celebrate.

The day her heart would break into a million pieces, along with her mind. )

__________________________________________

AN: so…this was a WAY too long chapter, but I really wanted to introduce Lissette and sort of her dynamic with Louis, Lestat, Armand and Daniel. My next few posts will be one-shots from a lot later in the show, so they won’t be in chronological order but I will provide context for each of them. I hope y’all enjoyed this!

[fresh-blue-hell]

#LuciAngstWeek2025

Day 2: Outcast/Failure

Just tell him how he needs to be for you to love him!

[fresh-blue-hell]

I come bearing a gift

(BTW this is my art 😭 I just never sign shit)