#Interview with the Vampire imagines

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Lestat engaging in wax play with you.

NSFW below Cut.

Lestat was not a submissive, and though he may have taken many roles on the stage during his time with the Theatres des Vampires, he would never act that one. Hence why you were the one, laying on the bed, bound by the silken ropes that you could break free of easily but did not, wrapping your fingers around your wrist restraints, Lestat looming over you. The hungry look on his face almost brought you to tears - not of pain, despite the sting of the wax from the candle that was falling onto your skin to cool there - but of pure pleasure, of the eroticism of it all. No pillows, no sheets, nothing for comfort, just him and what he intended to do with you. It was absolutely perfect, the way that he let the wax trickle down onto your chest, creating a design around your nipples that would stay pink after the wax had cooled and turned hard - and of course, a small L right in the centre, right on the sternum. “Lestat,” You gasped, your eyes on the stretch of his fangs, watching how they showed themselves, how he was starting to lose himself in the moment with you. “Mon amour,” He said, pulling the wax off of your skin little by little, and then started to run his tongue along the irritated skin, making you moan with delight. “What a beautiful little canvas you make for me.” “Oui - create a work of art out of me,” You urged him, and he was amused by this, enchanted even, as he brought the candle down over your stomach now, leaving little drips in a pattern that only he could see, until he was down between your legs. Each new drop brought out a little whimper in you from the original pain, which then turned into a smile as the pleasure came afterwards. But the wax was only a tease. “Ahh - I see this work of art here does not need any modifying,” He said, and then playfully brought his mouth down to the area between your thighs, kissing upwards. The area was already sensitive from all of the foreplay, so it didn’t take much to get you gasping, and pleading for more - which was exactly how Lestat wanted you.

Requested by: Anonymous

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Lestat wooing you would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

( I wrote this draft a while ago, and only now edited and finished it, so hopefully I'll still like it after my next viewing of IWTV lol. I tried to balance romance with Lestats naturally manipulative and toxic side. And I tried to make a neutral set of headcanons for something I think would really depend on the type of person.)

- When he can, and when he wants to be, Lestat is like a dream personified: one you feel so vividly and yearn for so ardently that you pray you’ll never breach the waking world again. He sweeps you off your feet; both figuratively and literally, until all that’s left of you is a foggy haze that can think only of fairytales and fantasy. 

- And yet, the dream is bound to end as nothing short of a nightmare. 

- Lestat views mortals as toys, things he can do with as he pleases, and dispose of as quickly and as often as it suits him. He hardly ever takes into consideration the feelings and the value of those around him, save for when he decides he wants them: and even then, he can’t help but play cruel little games. 

- Lestat’s love, in general, is a game. It’s a game of cat and mouse, one that only he ever manages to win. No matter how long it may take, no matter how hard you may try to avoid it, no matter how much it might hurt you, you’ll end up being his in one way or another, even if it kills you....

- At first, Lestat is very open about his infatuation with you, introducing himself to you in the dead of night as you walk the streets or sit in your garden. He apologizes for scaring you, ignoring how strange his sudden appearance may be; how it seems almost impossible for him to be where he is right in that moment.

- Though you're too distracted by his physical appearance to truly consider the logistics. Too distracted by his complexion and his hair that seems to be glowing in the moonlight, how striking his eyes are, how expensive his clothes are. He's completely foreign to you; both in physical attributes and status, and because of that, you're taken with him from the start.

- Being with him is thrilling, it's exhilarating, and it feels almost dangerous, so comparably taboo to everything you've ever been taught to yearn for. You would have never imagined that you'd be sneaking away in the middle of the night, tiptoeing past your parents room or climbing down the steep side of your home's architecture: all to meet with a man who only ever appears to you in dark corners and secluded spaces. You would have never imagined slipping back inside just as the sun rises and hiding your exhaustion in the morning at the breakfast table, knowing that if your father ever found out he'd lock you away.

- But just being with Lestat is enough to make you forget about any and all consequences that you may face. He's able to strip away your worries: waxing poetic about how he loves you and how he'll never allow anything to happen to you. About how he's capable of giving you a life that you couldn't even imagine.

- He's worse than the devil when telling you how he'll let you live deliciously: promising you no more pain or sorrow for the rest of time, how not even sickness or death could ever touch you again. But only if you'll trust in him, love him, accept him, him, him, him. His tone is never above a whisper yet it's deafening, rendering the world around you silent so that all you can hear is the beating of your heart and the softness of his voice.

- When he talks to you about the future, it's as though he can read your mind: as though he understands you on some deep and emotional level, perfectly summing up your deepest and darkest feelings that you do your best to hide. He promises to change the things you wish to change, to give you the things you have always yearned for, to rid you of the grievances and the heartaches that you have grown to worry about. Out of everyone in your life, it is a complete stranger who seems to know you best, and it makes you feel as though you are somehow one in the same, connected on some otherworldly level.

- He flirts with you in your more lighthearted moments together: making you laugh and flush and hide your face. He speaks so smoothly, so charmingly, so intelligently. All the boys you've ever met have either been perfectly plain or dreadfully boring, and Lestat is the total opposite: so full of life and passion and romance. It's like he holds your heart in his hands and tells it when to beat.

- He calls you such beautiful things: things reserved for your parents or the letters between history's greatest lovers. Some are comparably innocent to others, holding the affection of a guardian rather than a lover. Pet, lambkin, sugarplum, treasure, angel, beloved, darling, dove, lover, my love, my dearest, my heart, etc. Not to mention when he speaks in his native tongue.

- It's easy to forget who you actually are when every name he seems to call you is a term of endearment or your name spoken in a tone that you've never heard before. He makes it seem so foreign and different: makes you feel different.

- And when he feels his words are no longer enough, he moves on to gifts: covering you in gems and jewels and satins. You tuck them away in the bottom of your dresser, keeping them hidden away from your families prying eyes. The first time you visit his home, you're shown a room that's already made for you: it's closets and dressers full of luxuries that you've never known.

- When he zips and clasps you into them, his fingers linger on the pulse beneath his touch. He kisses your wrists and your neck as his hands slide across your body, listening to the heartbeat racing in your chest and the thoughts crossing your mind, knowing that his affection is filling you with burning heat.

- It's an age of innocence that you live in, and Lestat is a creature of sin: when he woos you, it's bound to include seduction and lust. He wants to sway you towards a life of debauchery, the type of life he has lived for quite some time, the type of life that he can give to you: one without punishment and restriction, one with only pleasure.

- He tries to lower your inhibitions: tries to trap you in a whirlwind of excitement, and romance, and affection, until all that's left is a dizzying love that makes you want to give yourself to him and only him. When he feels he can get away with it, he'll lean in close, staring straight into your eyes as his mouth draws nearer to your own. A grin pulls at his lips, feeling as though he is seconds away from stealing a kiss and sealing your fate.

- It's then that you pull away, wanting to; needing to, preserve your chastity, not wanting to allow yourself to get carried away and do irreversible damage; to be a fool for the sake of love. On one hand, he loves it. On the other, it infuriates him. He soothes himself with your touch, pausing only for a moment as your head turns away from his own before dropping his face into the crook of your neck or burying it in your hair, feeling your softness against him; a promise of what he is capable of winning as long as he can remain patient.

- You're so soft, so warm, so sweet: all attributes he tries to imitate himself; wanting you to trust him more than anything. He drapes himself across you, lays his head in your lap or rests his chin on your shoulders, wanting to seem gentler than he is. He is a monster, yes, but he's determined to convince you that he is not: as though he holds less control than he actual does, as though he is weaker than he is. Perhaps in a way, he is weaker: weak for you, for your touch, for your acceptance, for your love.

- And in convincing you that he is weak for you, he manages to win you over and turn you away from your family, planting seeds of doubt in your mind and ideas about running away with him. He introduces you to passion, to all of the things your family taught you to stay away from because they're sinful and will lead you down a dark path. He questions why something so beautiful and pleasureful would be so wrong for you to engage in. Why god would mean to keep you from enjoying them, from enjoying life and enjoying him, enjoying all the pleasure that he convinces you to let him give to you.

- At some point, he will find himself an entry point into your regular life: likely by attending a party that you and your family are at, and making himself known as an honored guest or sponsor; someone that the people around him are bound to respect and trust. He pretends not to know you when the two of you are introduced, though the way he looks at you when he kisses your hand will tell anyone who's watching that that is simply not the case.

- He plays nice in the presence of others, treating you more like a child than a potential wife: acting like a protective uncle when in the company of your family, friends, or suitors. He cultivates a close relationship in public with you under this pretense, lowering your families guards and making them believe that he truly has your best interests in mind. When other men come around, he is not seen as a competitor, but rather a guardian, someone that they must convince to like them if they wish to get close to you

- Yet for all of this acting, there always comes a time in the middle of the night when he finds you alone, acting as though a switch has been flipped and he cannot keep himself off or away from you. He grabs you from amongst the darkness, concealing your shrieks of surprise as he holds you close to him, growling about how he's missed you and cooing at you as grumble about how he's treated you all evening. He reminds you that you must keep your love a secret; whether it was initially his idea or your own, and against your better judgement, you begin to soften once more; forgiving him as he smiles at and hugs you close to him.

- He keeps you close to him at parties once he feels he has earned the right to; or even when he feels he hasn't, urging you to sit with him at his side and leaning into you so that he can murmur little comments in your ear, grinning as you giggle and try to hide it. You sit at his side as he plays the piano, watching his fingers fly across the keys as he quietly makes lighthearted conversation or teasing quips.

- In the presence of others, his affection turns gentle and innocent: tapping your chin, booping your nose, patting your cheek, escorting you around by your interlocked arms. In private his affection is more intimate: brushing your hair from your face, toying with your jewelry, lingering caresses, purposefully placed hands, long and gentle kisses. It's hard to grow used to the difference: how he can be one man one moment, and seem like a totally different one the next.

- But Lestat enjoys this difference, this game of his that he gets to play with you. It's a game he takes even further in an effort to make you jealous, to make you even more interested in him: to invoke some kind of strong reaction in you and bring the two of you closer in the long run. It's a rotten and dangerous game that he plays: brushing you off in favor of another, disregarding how happy you are to see him, taking pleasure in your confusion and disappointment.

- He expects to bite then lap at the wound like a dog, be the one to hurt you then strip you of the pain. He expects you to eagerly accept his undivided attention later on: for you to feel fortunate for the scraps, to wait for his beck and call. And how rewarding it is for you when you ensure that his plan backfires. Two can play at that game, you reason, and you watch as he conceals his own jealousy in response to your actions.

- When he stands you up during your nightly meetings, you don't show up the next day yourself. When you're at a mutual party, you dance and stay by the side of a boy your father boisterously insists you'll marry one day. When you need fresh air, you take the boy with you and sit in the garden side by side. And oh how Lestat could snap his neck like a twig: drain him right in front of you and sully your little saintlike dress. There's still a chance that he will....

- Your attention is like a drug to him and when he is left with none of it, he festers in sickness and in agony, rotting from the inside as he suffers from withdrawals. He must remind himself to be patient when he thinks about sweeping you away, about making you his and forcing you to stay with him until the end of time.

- He'll undoubtedly interrupt you, whether during your sit down with your potential suitor or after it happens: either scaring the boy off with the sheer tension and anger that radiates off of him, or stealing you away when his back is turned, grabbing you in the blink of an eye; reminiscent of times when you were both in much more jovial moods. His ability to suddenly appear will never cease to shock you, to startle you before you gain your bearings and sigh at the sight of him; whether in relief or annoyance.

- It's in these moments that he has to be very careful. He feels the need to turn you, to ensure that you're not going anywhere, but in doing that, he is playing a very dangerous game. Lestat believes that you could grow to love him over time, that you would get over the initial resentment of being turned once you realize the gift that he's bestowed upon you. But what if you don't? What if he loses you all the same? You'd be as good as dead then, wouldn't you? Immortal and yet refusing to be by his side. He wouldn't let you, but that's besides the point.

- If he does manage to quell those urges, manage to convince himself that now is not the time to change you, then he must decide on how to deal with you accordingly: decide if anger is the way to go, if sorrow is, if kindness should prevail above all else. Sometimes his temper gets the better of him and his sweetened words turn sour, making you wonder if the man standing before you is the same man you've grown to love.

- Oftentimes, you respond just as angrily, lashing out at him in the same venomous way, your pain and your exhaustion showing through. He can't help but love it, love the anger and the passion that you show him. He finds your fury exhilarating: proof of why he chose you in the first place, proof of how perfect you are for each other.

- It's then that he turns on the charm: smiling and laughing in amusement, somehow turning this rage of yours into a bonding moment. It's baffling to witness, and it gives you much to think about. It's in these moments that he might be forced to turn you, seeing the conflict on your face, hearing the words leave your lips, orders for him to leave you alone, how you never wish to see him again.

- He can't allow you to make that decision, to leave him and be rid of him forever. He'll ensure that you're unable to: that no matter where you go and no matter how far you run, he will continue to be the only one you can turn to, the only one who can understand and guide you. You'll learn to love him then, he'll make sure of it. Despite all the aggravation, a life without him will be even more unbearable, ...and you'll realize that soon enough.

- There's a very likely chance that he'll woo you after he bites you, that he'll turn you during your first meeting, or feed from you and later convince you to let him change you. For the sake of these headcanons, I've pretended as though there's a reason he's unable to steal you away in the middle of the night and run away with you. Just let it be known that under different circumstances, he might react very differently when trying to win you over.

- That being said: Lestat does try to give you the choice when deciding whether or not to change you; regardless of your history together. Although, it isn't much of a choice, is it? It's either change or die: a sort of "pick your poison" type of scenario.

- I can see him making his secret known in an attempt to win you over and intrigue you, to fascinate you with his mere existence and draw you towards him even more. Your interest in him facilitates his beliefs about you: about how you're made for his world and not your own. The fact that you're not terrified of him; that you still yearn to be near him even after learning what he is, proves to him that you're different from everyone else, that there's a reason he chose you out of every other person on Earth.

- Logistically, you know that things like him should not exist: that even if they do, they're dangerous and should be avoided at all costs. And yet, you find yourself incapable of of doing so. Knowing that he exists frightens you, and yet it fascinates you even more, making you want to continue seeing him: scared of losing this double life of yours that has allowed you to see things beyond your own comprehension and the set of beliefs that you've been taught since birth. If you turn from him, you risk going back to a normal and boring life, forced into realism after getting a taste of true fantasy.

- It's a hard decision to make; whether you'll choose to continue seeing him or not, yet you should rest assured that Lestat is seldom finished with a person even when they fully believe him to be. If he wants something, there is simply no preventing him from having it. And the thing he wants most is you....

[mightybeewrites]

Imagine being a fellow black! fem vampire tagging along with Louis and Claudia when they make it to Paris

A/N: getting back into interview with the vampire made me completely starved to be apart of this world and I just had to write smth about it! Hope yall like it! Anybody can read it, I just had a black femme character in mind lol

The three of you met in the battlefields of Ukraine. You slept out in the woods—underground—in a little hole you dug yourself.

You would sleep for days, to avoid drinking. Because the blood is bad here.

Too much misery.

Too much despair.

Too much isolation.

You hated it.

You needed to find a way out.

You needed a place with fresher blood and companionship.

After a couple weeks of waking up—poking your head out of the surface and feed on birds or rats that came across then going back to sleep—you felt the presence of two vampires …

Your eyes immediately snapped open.

It’s been such a long time since you had a companion—the last time you had one was your master. You desperately got out of your hole and sped to the two. It was as if your heart started to beat again.

Seeing that they’re black and since you’re black too, yall hit it off quite well!

——

Getting into Paris was the best thing ever. The streets were lively and the blood was sweet. You, Claudia, and Louis were like siblings. Louis being the oldest—obviously, then Claudia and finally you. Even though it didn’t show physically, given how you was turnt at 22, it showed mentally.

Louis had his hobbies, Claudia was bold and searched out for more vampires in the land, and you kept to yourself—also having a hobby turnt dream.

When you wasn’t hunting with Claudia or conversing with Louis, you liked to draw and read books. The wars of the world made you want to draw to cope.

It started to captivate your time immensely up to the point where the two practically had to drag you outside for some fresh air.

~~

“Working that pencil once more, Y/N??” Claudia said, walking into your room, putting on some of her jewelry.

You was sitting at your desk, drawing on large sheets of paper—pictures of landscapes and portraits hung up around. A faint “Yes.” Murmured out of your lips in which Claudia rolled her eyes.

“Y/N I love you but you have to put your pencil down every once in a while!” She put her arms around you and looked over your shoulder. Something common she’d do. “Oh—that’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Claudia.” A small smile tugged at your lips and then you felt yourself being pulled away from your desk. “H-hey-! Claudia!”

“But it can wait, come on! We’re going to a play! Louis found some other vampires!”

“Some other what!?”

[monlestat]

my brother!!!!! he tossed himself off a roof! my sister!!!!!!! she buried me alive! my daughter was my sister was my throw pillow when he wouldn’t look at me kindly!!!!!! lestat lestat lestat lestat lestat lestat LESTAT-

[glitteringpoet1685]

Season 3 is going to be a challenge for some of you Armand defenders, but not for me, because as soon as we get Armand in Paris tying his hair back in ribbons and wearing cravats and frock coats or whatever other cunty historical outfits the iwtv costume department cooks up, Armand could commit any number of heinous, evil actions and I would simply stare at my TV with cartoon heart eyes popping out of my head anytime he is on screen.

[xjade-lotusx]

I've stared at this for hours now thanks

[asthedeathoflight]

I think an underrated angle on 2x05 is something that either Jacob or Assad said in some interview somewhere, which is that in that episode Louis is addicted to heroin. Thats why he has that whole stash of drugs that he gives to Daniel, that's why he gives Daniel the drugs even though he's already got him alone. He didn't just use those 128 boys for sex he was using them to get high. Bring them home, get them to shoot up, and then drain them to get that secondhand high.

It clarifies something that's always confused me about that scene, which is why Armand saves Daniel the first time. He wouldn't save Daniel as a person, he clearly knows Daniel needs to die, but he's not seeing Daniel as a person there. Daniel is just a substance. He rips him away from Louis to stop him from using.

And i think that adds a whole other layer to the fight he and Armand have to think that this is Louis on a bender, with Armand cleaning up after him because he's not stable enough to. Louis in the bed for a week isn't just healing from the burns, he's going through withdrawal. Him at the table with Daniel giving him the "bright young reporter" speech is probably the first time he's been sober in months.

It adds another layer to Armand's desperation, that Louis has been running from both Armand and himself in this way, and of course Armand wants to erase that memory. Of course he wants to pretend that that fight never happened. Not just to protect himself but in a way to protect Louis from having said those things. When he describes the fight to Louis afterwards, he says "you said the worst things you've ever said to me." And he doesn't really know how to forgive Louis for that so he just wants to bury this rock-bottom moment and move on like it never happened. After all, Louis was high, he didn't really mean it, but if he remembers then maybe he might think that he had a point. Better to wipe the whole experience away.

[gracerings]

twitter trying so hard to get the locals to watch iwtv but then we get tweets like ‘team lestat or team armand?’ like this is twilight and people answering ‘team therapy!!!’….like could you be any more boring???? COLORLESS FLAVORLESS DULL DULL SUFFOCATION BY THE BEIGEST PILLOW or whatever it is louis said. go watch heartstopper or something and leave iwtv to the real FREAKS

[platoapproved]

iwtv ships + book quotes

[whatisthiswitchcraft]

‘Interview With the Vampire’: Ben Daniels on That Bloody Season 2 Finale

[schrutexbucks]

cannot stop thinking about this tweet actually

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being a liberal woman, and the three vampires wanting to make you part of their family.

“Another visit from my favourite little family,” You smiled when you saw Louis, Lestat and Claudia come to approach you. They were some of the few who did so openly, while many others shunned you. See, you considered yourself to be a modern woman, though perhaps you were a bit ahead of your time. Your neighbours and community though, they considered you a harlot, a sinner. All because you were an educated woman, who wanted to educate others - particularly about sex. Not having it, no no, that was best left up to people to figure out on their own, but the actual information, the dangers, the pleasures, the safety, how to enjoy yourself, things that you regarded as important and wish someone had been open with you about when you were a girl of Claudia’s physical age. “Bonsoir, mon cher,” Lestat said smoothly, taking your hand and kissed the top of it. You bowed your head, and he was soon replaced by Louis. Claudia though, she hugged you, getting close to your neck, making you chuckle and give her a little push away. Not that you could really stop her if you wanted to. But she was quick to disengage. “Ahh, you sneaky little one,” You chided her playfully, smiling up to her fathers. Oh, you knew all about them. Perhaps too much about them. Their homosexual relationship. Their vampirism. The interracial relationship that most people would frown upon even if they were man and woman. But you were the only one in the city who didn’t think badly, who didn’t judge or look down their nose. You loved them like they were your own family, and wanted them, above all, to be happy. They even eliminated a couple of your protesters for you, something neither of you acknowledged. “So have you thought about our offer?” Louis asked, his hands atop of his cane, leaning on it slightly, the dark glasses hiding his eyes from you. “Oui, have you?” Lestat echoed in that sophisticated, erotic way that he often spoke, leaning in close to you. As Louis often said, he had a way about him. A way that could charm God out of Heaven and the Devil out of Hell and get them to tango in New Orleans. “Just a little more time, ma famille,” You said, knowing their patience was waiting. They wanted to turn you, make you a bigger part of their family. Your liberal thoughts enticed them, and they wanted to keep you. “I still have work to do in the daylight. But soon,” You stroked the side of Claudia’s head. “Mon petit, soon.”

Requested by: Anonymous

[userarmand]

2022 vs. 2024

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

drives me glass-eating batshit how Claudia and Amadeo were both teenagers rescued (or "rescued") from violently traumatic situations and taken in by paternal gentlemen vampires who taught them about the world and kept them safe and spoiled them rotten and loved them so so so much in profoundly unhealthy and dehumanizing ways. Claudia and Arun both entering the vampiric world as blank slates (like Claudia remembers her pre-turning past but we only get the barest details, it's hardly ever mentioned) and a wash of divinity, angel imagery and merciful gods. then as Claudia and Amadeo grew they started to pick up on the things that were off in their world and display aggressive behavior (Claudia's killing spree and Amadeo's The Shining moment, etc.) only to be physically punished for it. and then they experience the brutalities of life outside their maker's protection (Claudia under the floorboards and Armand under Rome) except she's able to come back home hardened and confront the realities of what's been done to her while Armand never gets that chance, he's stuck with the Children of Darkness, he's stuck deifying Marius, he's stuck clinging to ritual and tradition and all the things Claudia defies like breathing.

and then they finally cross paths and they're inverted mirrors of each other, Claudia the grown woman desperate to escape her teenager's body and Armand the grown man who wants to be loved and precocious and fascinating like he was as a teenager. Claudia being able to effortlessly pull off the veneer of innocence that Armand has to work so hard to maintain and she's not even grateful for it. she's got the youth he wants, she's got Louis's love, she's more free than Armand has ever been, she fought back against her Maker and got away with it, it's not Fair, it isn't right. so Armand punishes her with it, subjects her to the same cycle of objectification and dehumanization and violence that Amadeo went through (because it could be Worse right, he could be Donating her right). and when that's not enough to make up for everything he's missing he fucking kills her in an elaborate show just like she killed Lestat with the elaborate show that was Mardi Gras, only his writings recording the process damn him just like her writings damn her, their need to leave some mark of themselves above all else consuming everything.

and after killing her Armand spends years dragging around with a Louis who hates him just like Louis dragged around with a Claudia who hated him. he's the good nurse for Louis the way Claudia was and he competes with Lestat's ghost the way she did and he watches a fragile life with flowers growing from dead things all come crashing down in ash and dust like she did, all because of what he did to her. and at the end of the day they're both fucked-up kids whose most commonly used last names stem from the fathers who fucked them up and they could have lived each other's lives and in some ways they almost did.

[laniidae-passerine]

There’s a very easy way to get around the fact that Assad is unable to pass for a teeenager if the show wants to adapt TVA and that’s to rely on the theme of unreliable narration. Armand begins retelling his history and according to him, he looked like he was in his early adulthood. No older than twenty four, for sure, but also not any younger than twenty. And then, just when the audience has bought it, just when this version of events has been presented as the truth for long enough, someone questions it. Asks if he really looked like that. Asks if he’s being honest with himself. And for the briefest moment, we flashback to Amadeo, the age he was when Marius first saw him. Beaten, shackled, afraid. And undeniably a child.

[elinordash]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 2x03 ・ 2x04

Even now, I'm still the only one you trust.