#LESTAT USING SIRI ?????????????

[sandushengshou]

Interview with the Vampire | 2x08 “And That's The End of It. There's Nothing Else”

[nelegance]

Very brat Lestat. I can see Armand’s eye twitching now as he stares at his iPad screen.

[petrowriting]

daniel molloy promised us all a divorce and he DELIVERED!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[miraculan-draws]

Jacob Anderson gets a lot of very well-deserved praise on his accent work in IWTV, especially in the sense that it goes back and forth— the thick NOLA Creole drawl to the sterile, stripped-clean, carefully blank American that he uses in Dubai, and then back again. If you listen closely, you can hear him very subtly letting that drawl "seep" back in during really intense Dubai scenes. It's absolutely phenomenal.

BUT! I would also like to give Sam some flowers that I don't see mentioned much. Mostly because we only hear it in two scenes, with very few lines: the reunion scene in 2x08, and the S3 Teaser. Sam is doing! Two completely different accents at once! And I KNOW it's intentional bc it's a book thing and our boy has a doctorate in Lestat.

In Louis' account of events, Lestat was fresh off the boat. The French accent is very thick, and he also peppers in a lot of French into his sentences. (Most fic writers tend to lean into this). But by our start date in 2022, Lestat has been living in Louisiana for over a century. In TVL, set in the 80s, Lestat describes LOUIS as the one having an accent.

So what is Sam doing with this?

FOR STARTERS. There are whole stretches of words, entire lines in those scenes even, where Lestat sounds pretty casually American: "shut up" like "shuddup", "and I thought, who better to carry on the great work", "Siri, pause". The French thickens a bit when the emotion intensifies, but even then it's not entirely present like it is in the rest of the show. The nasality and softened "T" of "nineteen sevendy three" "Did you hurt yourself?", the "I can't, Louis." THE WAY HE SAYS LOUIS' NAME SOUNDS DIFFERENT. not lew-EE anymore, but LOO-ee.

The teaser?? Very fun. The entire line "There's a goblet on the table." And "but, then again...it might not." AND!! Of course accents of all kinds tend to soften when singing, but in the song he only sounds French when speaking French.

And these HAVE to be conscious choices, they have to be planned and the ratios played with because neither of these are Sam Reid's speaking voice. He is doing two accents at once and it's so subtle but it's also doing so much to make Real Lestat distinct from Memory Lestat. What a GIFT what a TREASURE what SUBLIME leads we have for this show.

(Assad I see you scheming too, I will gush about you too)

[ghouldump]

Love Me | Lestat de Lioncourt x Bi!Reader

ෆ as your companionship seems to be failing, you retreat, seeking comfort from a woman who looks awfully similar.

a short fic from me to you. bi reader, as well as rockstar lestat, has been high in demand. i actually accidentally deleted a few really good ones, but there i honestly write whenever i’m bored, so more is bound to come along.

Throwing the large book, you expected it to hit him in the head, but before it could connect, the book went left, falling onto the floor.

“How long will you continue this, ma chérie, you don't menstruate, so why must you go on like this? Hm, do you want to shop, a new handbag, shoes, a new boy toy?” Lestat asked, smirking. Behind the grin, he was incredibly frustrated. The two of you had been arguing for over an hour, and he didn't even know why.

“What does that have to do with anything? You always have to ridicule, when a problem is being addressed,” you screamed, a few tears escaping. As much as you tried to hold them back, the barrier was crumbling, as you grew angrier.

“Are you serious? What is the problem? Go on”

“That boy that you bought home, he looked like him-

“It was merely a coincidence”

“And the one before that, and before that, and many more. All of them resembled him, your Louis,” you whispered, wiping your tears.

“All of them were also drained and burned”

“After you fucked them,” you said, shaking your head as he chuckled.

“50 years, I have given myself to you, and you alone, but I haven't been enough, I’m not Louis”

“Y/n-

“You revealed your identity to the entire world for him. I let you turn me at only nineteen to fill your lonely void, and you’ve never told me you loved me, do you even love me?”

“What kind of point are you trying to prove? I told you, Louis and I had a very different relationship, than what you and I-

“Right, you loved him, and I was the replacement,” you laughed, grabbing your phone and handbag.

“Where are you going?”

“Out, text me from your iPad, if you need anything,” you grumbled. He was too much of an illiterate man-child to even learn how to use a phone, depending on you and Siri.

“The sun will be out soon”

“I won't be long,” you said, making sure to slam the door.

Your emotions were all over the place, angered at the terrible decisions you'd made over the years. You were a young party girl, in the 70s, when you met Lestat. It didn't take long before he was your boyfriend, and you were bragging to your friends about the sex. After months of dating, he confided in you about a weird call from his former lover’s partner, revealing his identity afterward. Soon, he asked you to join him in darkness, and immediately you agreed.

However, looking back, you felt like an idiot, you should've stayed away when the adults told you about the strangeness of Lestat. The rumors of him not aging, only being seen at night. You couldn't see past his charming personality or handsome face, to realize he was trying to fill the void Louis left.

Walking through the French Quarter, you maneuvered through the crowd. You rolled your eyes at all of the tourists, especially since the writer, Daniel Molloy came out with his book, people were flocking to the city.

Going into a random bar, you sat down, your eyes scanning the menu. Alcohol didn't have much of an effect on you, only making you slightly tipsy, but it was something that made you feel human.

“I bought your drink, the least you could do is give me your number,” you heard the man next to you say rudely.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.

“A pineapple martini,” you said, handing him your card.

“I didn't ask you to,” the girl argued.

“Listen, I didn't spend $20 on an overpriced daiquiri just because you're cute-

“And I told you, I didn't ask you to buy it,” she argued.

“Can you two take that elsewhere, I don't want to hear all of that, while I enjoy my drink,” you said, tapping the man’s shoulder.

“No one cares, and keep your hands off-

The man stood from his seat, lunging forward to grab you next, when you caught his arm, twisting it. You watched the man in satisfaction, thinking of how men hadn't changed, even in the 60s, 70s, 80s, and so on — there were always the disgustingly perverted men.

“You don't know how to keep your hands to yourself, it’s gross, but it makes me feel less guilty for breaking your arm,” you said, shrugging before twisting his arm. He screamed in agony, holding his arm as he ran out of the bar, just as your martini was sat down, along with your card.

“Hey, thank you for that,” the woman started, as you sat down. By her accent alone, you knew she was a tourist.

“It was nothing,” you mumbled, twirling the little straw, focused on the drink.

“How did you do that? Do you take self defense classes?” she asked.

“No”

“Well, that was pretty impressive, I don't think I’ve ever seen-

“Lady, I just want to enjoy my drink-

Your eyes widened at the woman, she was perfect, she looked like Lestat, if he had been gender-swapped. Her blonde tresses were inches away from her waist, sky blue eyes, and full pink lips. Her bone structure was symmetrical, her straight teeth as white as milk. She dressed hyper feminine, wearing too much pink and white. You tried not to be weird, forcing your eyes to stop wandering, despite catching a glimpse of her toned body.

“I’m sorry, I know I can talk too much sometimes, sorry,” she apologized.

“You’re fine, I’m just in a shitty mood,” you shrugged.

“What’s wrong?”

“My partner is caught up on his ex, even though they broke up forever ago,” you admitted.

“Why do you hold on to him then?”

“Everything else is perfect about him, I can’t help but want to be loved by him,” you mumbled, thinking of Lestat. Since he revealed himself, he had been very busy, but when he wasn’t, his attention was on you. Waiting for him backstage, in the hotels, in his coffin, the quality time was incredibly intimate.

“If he’s as perfect as you claim, why are you here, obviously upset?” she asked, scooting closer.

“I don’t think I will ever come close to being loved as much as Louis,” you admitted, gulping down the pressure of the tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching to touch your hand.

“I will be fine, are you new to New Orleans?” You asked, staring at her hand laid against your own.

“Yes, I’m Lisa by the way, but I want to move here, I’ll be out here for a few weeks, maybe we can hang out, you could be my personal tour guide,” she said, briefly biting her lip. In her thoughts, she was hopeful, wanting more than to spend time with you. You seemed mysterious and she was dying to know why.

“Y/n, What did you want to do?”

“See historical landmarks, try local cuisines, hang out with you,” she said, leaning towards you.

“Me?”

“A woman as beautiful as you deserves all of the attention”

“I could say the same thing about you,” you smirked, remaining still as she leaned closer, allowing her to press her lips against your own.

As you moved closer, your phone dinged, making you reach into your pocket. Pulling away, you rolled your eyes as you stared at the coffin emoji, paired with a question mark.

“I have to go,” you told her, going to stand.

“Could I have your number, we could hang out sometime, if you're free,” she said, fidgeting. Smirking, you couldn't help but think of how much she looked like him, yet acted completely different.

Laughing, you unlocked your phone, handing it to her. After her number was saved, you were making your way to the townhouse. The sun could be seen coming into view, and just as you began opening the door, you could feel the heat burning against your skin.

“I thought you wouldn't be long,” Lestat said from the top of the stairs, as the door was shut.

“I wasn't”

“You left nearly two hours ago,” he said, following behind you, as you walked past him, up the stairs.

“And I’m home, did you want to argue more?” you asked him, rudely. He was stunned by your tone, but recovered quickly.

“No, I wanted you to return to me, in perfect condition,” he said, watching as you stripped from the clothing, holding your phone near.

“I’m okay, it will heal,” you told him, feeling his eyes on your lightly burned shoulder. You didn't say anything else, climbing into your coffin, and he couldn't admit your already different behavior left him feeling embarrassed.

Just as your eyes were about to shut, your phone lit up, as Lisa’s message appeared on the screen, asking if you made it home safely. Lestat stared at your coffin, hearing the sound of you typing, before slowly moving to his own.

“Sleep well, ma chérie”

“You too,” you said, hearing the sound of his coffin closing.

Lestat was confused by the way you were acting. This wasn't the first and most likely wouldn't be the last time you'd get into an argument, but this time seemed different. You'd leave and eventually come home, and he'd pick a fight, and just as you started to argue back, he would apologize for his actions and everything would fall into place.

Now, just two hours later you acted completely standoffish with him, as if you didn't want to be bothered. Was the argument that serious to you? You understood the love he held for Louis, but that it was best that they remained friends alone. He was with you, he had been all these years, he cared for you, he lo-.

Lestat didn't know how to express himself, arguing, being jealous, possessive, then ravishing you with gifts, that's all he knew. What he didn't realize was his failure to comfort and reassure you, not taking you seriously, you were pulling you away, as you began to desire your needs elsewhere.

Immediately, Lestat could see the red flags going off, you were gone every night. Some nights before he even woke up, others you'd silently dress in front of him, before leaving. Even when he left for his music business, you always traveled with him, but now you had excuses.

He didn't want to follow you, but he had to, the jealous assumptions were beginning to pile up in his thoughts. Months, it had been months of you ignoring his presence. You’d look at him, hunt with him, and even talk with him if he wanted — but you weren’t putting your all into the relationship anymore. He was making the same mistake as he did with Louis. Choosing when the relationship could and couldn’t open.

He’d dabble in his different tastes regularly, no strings attached, usually killing the person after. You were different, the only way you’d have another person, was if Lestat was present. You weren’t as open to the idea of having others, and in a way, it satisfied Lestat knowing you would never sleep with another, or so he thought.

He had been following you, all the way to Gentilly, until you stopped at the unfamiliar house. His heart could have shattered, as he watched you through the window. The woman, you touched, touched in a way that was only meant for him.

He watched as you and this is unknown woman made love, his heart throbbing. The two of you, going on for what felt like hours, before you were both giggling, going into the bathroom. As the woman came out, grabbing a towel, Lestat was sure his dead heart would stop. This woman, she looked exactly like him, he couldn’t even say he looked better, because they resembled each other so much.

After your shared shower, you both plopped on the bed, holding each other. Your hearts full of passion towards each other.

“Y/n,” Lisa said, playing with your sharp nails.

“Hm?” You answered, your eyes closed. Her warm skin felt nice against your forever icy skin.

“I think I love you,” she said, making you open your eyes.

“What?” You asked, looking at her.

“I love you, I know it’s only been a few months, but that’s all I needed with you to know,” she said. You could feel the tears building up, as you pressed your lips against her own.

Staring at her, you could only see Lestat, the one who stole your heart all those years ago. No matter how idiotic you’re decision was, at the time. All you wanted was for him to declare his love for you, with his mouth.

“Say it again, please?” You asked her, as you pulled away.

“I love you,” she smiled brightly, smashing her lips into yours, as she pulled you back into a hug.

Lestat had tears pouring down his face, as he turned to leave. He didn’t think he could watch any more of whatever that was supposed to be. He couldn't take the idea of you being loving or being loved by another. All this started because of love, you claiming he didn't love you.

“Lisa, tell me you love me, once more,” you said, as you began to glamour her.

“I love you,” she exclaimed.

“No, you don't, you never met me, you won't recognize my face and you will never approach me, do you understand?” you asked her, watching as she silently nodded, you wiped the bloody tear from your eye, just as it escaped,

“Yes”

“You will sleep now, you're very tired,” you said, watching as she nodded, dozing off. She lay beautifully, as you covered her with the blanket. You couldn't replace him, even with the female doppelganger — especially with her. Lisa was a sweet girl, you didn't want to take away her life, revealing your nature, for your selfish reasons.

Leaving her home, you silently went back to your shared townhouse. It was quiet, Lestat already in his coffin, as you undressed.

“Good night,” you mumbled, getting into your coffin.

If this would be life, then you accepted it, second to Louis. You loved Lestat with every piece of your soul, so much that you could take not being loved, but being liked enough to be in his presence.

As the sun eventually left, you got up, dressing to go hunt. You found a random man, draining him in an alley, but as you made your way back home, your eyebrows furrowed. Entering the house, your eyes widened at the sight.

Exotic dancers, well over ten of them, all with wavy blonde hair and shades of blue eyes. A few of them were fawning at Lestat, but he paid none of them any kind of attention.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“For you, ma chérie, I’ll drain them, but I’ll let do whatever you please with them first,” he grinned.

“What are you talking about? Get them out, now,” you said, shrugging off a hand that was about to rub your shoulder. Watching as Lestat controlled them, sending them away, before he sat down, drained from the action.

“What is wrong with you? Bringing all of those women here? God, why don't you think,” you grumbled.

“I was just trying to appease your passions since they were more of your type, I mean, it only took a few months for you to find out,” he shrugged, making you realize he had been there.

“You can't be serious, you're such a creeper,” you laughed bitterly.

“For months, I’ve reached out to you, and you recoiled at my touch, just for me to find out you're having an affair with a woman, who looks too much like me”

“And how is that any different than what you've done?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“I heard you both, making love to her, kissing her, touching her the way that you do me. Texting her throughout the day, you're in love with her,” Lestat cried.

“I’m in love with you, but you love Louis. I can't replace him, so I wanted to replace you,” you said, turning to storm away, when he caught your hand.

“I will always love Louis but don't think that I don't love you. You are my wife, my companion, the one who saved me from myself. I don't want to see you with another, only me,” he confessed. His face was covered in blood from the tears pouring down his face.

“And you have me, but you have to say it, I know you show it in your own ways, but to hear it from your lips, would help me so much,” you told him.

“I love you, I love you, I love you. I know, I am a hypocrite, but end your affair, I can't take knowing you love another, I love you” he pouted.

“Fine, you won't have to worry about her,” you told him, as he moved closer to embrace you. Swiftly, he lifted you, holding you in his arms.

“Are we made up now?”

“Yes, love”

“I don't know how much I could take of that excruciating cycle of neglect,” he expressed.

“Lestat?” you said, as he sat down, having you straddle his lap.

“Yes, chérie?”

“Tell me again, tell me you love me,” you said, sighing in fulfillment as his arms wrapped around your body.

“I love you and I’ll say it as many times as you need”

…

[everlastingrandom]

Lestat de Lioncourt will languish in a blighted, dilapidated house for 70 years but he's still got that iPad with 5G internet speed so that he can use Siri

[v333nus-demilo]

as much as i LOVE lestatposting i think it definitely understates lestat’s understanding of and engagement with the modern world (as shown by siri pause, this man does in fact have a grasp on it and uses it regularly, even if he thinks himself above it). however. i think the average armandposter has a perfect grasp of his simultaneous deadpan fascination and agitation with technology. i love both but god armandposting scratches an autistic mental itch i have fr

[dame-lazarus]

Things Lestat does in fic that are just Peak Lestat:

- buys mindfulness coloring books that he ends up tearing the pages out of in rage

- bursts into tears in a time loop and then fakes tears in subsequent loops because it made Claudia and Louis pay attention to him

- sends Louis many long texts

- signs all his many long texts to Louis “yours sincerely, Lestat”

- burns down a Barnes & Noble in response to Daniel’s book (someone please help me find this fic 🙏🏻)

- publishes an article in The Cut in response to Daniel’s book

- has a bathroom full of anti-aging serums even though he is, in fact, ageless

- vapes, constantly

- compares himself to a Greek god in song

- uses Siri for sexting

[vampire-dove]

I personally believe Lestat did turn Felix himself, but I think their dynamic is objectively funnier if he didn't. Like imagine being a millennial fledgling and attaching yourself to some crazy old man who hasn't showered in a three decades. You chase rats for him in a hurricane, you teach him how to use Siri, you live in squalor with him in a house without electricity, you watch him play a plank of wood all night long. And then his ex husband (who he talks about 24/7) comes home unexpectedly and then he lights you on fire and tells you to leave

[nalyra-dreaming]

Comments on 2x08!!! Well… spoilers, obviously:)

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Being buried like that is my absolute worst fear holy shit

Armand painting himself as the poor little victim makes me livid lol

Louis thinking about what he could havw changed and always arriving at kissing Lestat?!!! 😭😭😭😭

Armand reviving Louis but letting him tonrise by himself *insert middle finger emoji*

Louis going a bit mad - holy shit. sooooooo creepy I love it. And him preparing and getting their asses!!! Sublime!

Thank god Louis takes her diaries and dress 😭

Calling “Francis“ LMAO and with Come To Me toooooo 🙌😈😈

That sliver of light separating Louis and Armand… and Armand just continues to lie….

Sorry not believing the dungeon scene. Lestat just… sitting there? Contemplating and citing Magnus??? Mhhhh. Louis… threatening him and then… passionate kiss and leaving with Armand? That’s…. another Armand fanfic. Sorry, but … lol. No. No way. OR it’s edited and Louis bargained for Lestat‘s life there. As for Claudia’s back then. For example Louis could have burned Lestat there and that is why he was so apprehensive and fearful in SF. But this??? Nahhhhhhh - but: We‘ll see. In s3 apparently ^^ I could also see Louis burning him there or in the theater in a rage, but we’ll see. Anyways: this??? Nope. :)

Also, that blood of Akasha nod is very weird

Ah yes - the disassembly has started 😈

Get him Daniel!!!!!

There goes the broadcasting theory 🤓

And the soldiers!!!!! Yesssss

Not believing the rehearsing btw

LESTAT SAVED LOUISSSSSSSSSS Yesssss baby 🙌 I KNEW IT

Look at them bleeding ears 🥹 (also Armand (supposedly) would have let Louis die. Right. We‘re alllll clear on that, right.)

77 YEARS BASED ON A SEISMIC LIE (ooof!!!!)

Oof Louis is maddddd

Yes get his ass. Also him threatening Armand 👀

Hurricane Odetta! 2021!!!! The crime tour was funny. And then… Moss house. Implied fledgling but… no way

Yeah. Rip my heart out while you’re at it. JAM just have the energy for them. And god… Lestat breaking on remembering Claudia burn 😭 and the embrace on him calling himself her father.

Lestat looks like healing from burns still 👀 (also him using Siri?!!!)

Louis apologizing for making Lestat miserable

Because he didn’t know it was a gift 😭😭😭😭

That embrace. The looks. It’s just raw 😭😭😭

And to leave us like that the BASTARDS!!!!

Daniel!!!! Sweety!!!! Love the sass!!!Look at your eyes!!!! But yeah no, Armand did not turn you out of spite lol

But - calling it: contested NOLA meeting (OR Lestat is in Dubai either Louis)

Louis (supposedly) returning to Dubai alone… I get it. Louis needs to find himself. And honestly?? After Claudia asking him who he is outside of Claudia and Lestat? To say: “I own the night“????? ROCKS. 🙌🙌🙌

Also: Louis challenging the other vampires to come and get him - well - with the s3 announcement??? - HERE COMES THE VAMPIRE LESTAT!!!

I‘m not crying and grinning happily, you are…

*sniffs*

Episode Insider:

Jacob texting that pic - LMAO

Assad: All lf the facade […] has been shown to be a complete lie

Jacob: Lestat would have saved Claudia if he‘d had the energy 😭

Jacob: There’s things said at the end that nobody will ever know other than me and Sam. RIP ME 💀

OKAY. I‘m … good. Happy. Satisfied. Season 3 - here we fucking come!!!!

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Loustat (SPOILERS) Pt2: Reunion

You don't know the HALF of what Lestat feels for Louis, to let YOUR grimy arse steal his man, just for LOUIS's happiness. ANYTHING for Louis.

Am I the only one who felt left hanging? We BEEN knew it didn't make sense, but what's your POINT, exactly? If Louis misremembered Lestat whispering, it's just par for the course about the odyssey of recollection. But if Lestat DID do telepathy, is that evidence of...what? That the vampire bond works differently than what's been explained? That he COULD read Lou's mind? AMC, this is AGGRAVATING.

Your goose is COOKED, my guy.

The copium & denial pack Louis was smoking as he laughed was 🤌

That's right, start sweating!

Master manipulation; cuz he certainly would NOT have, as we soon find out. ANYTHING for Louis. (Dang, Imma have to take back some of what I said about Lestat's character development not having started yet.)

I was shocked. I was NOT expecting this plot twist. I was ready to throw Lestat out with the rest of the TRASH, in the DUMP. Well dang. Guess I'll only leave him rotting in a TINY landfill.

I nearly SCREAMED--@nashvillethotchicken and I were talking about Loustat as Bobby and Whitney ages ago! I cannot BELIEVE AMC threw in a New Edition reference in the year of our lord 2024; y'all are diabolical AF, Rolin, STOP IT.

I wonder if AMC used Hurricane Odette cuz the OG script was set in pandemic!2020, so it would make sense that a year later Louis would head back to NOLA during 2021 when Hurricane Odette last hit.

That looks like NOLA's Pontchartrain Hotel--lemme find out he bumped into the Mayfairs when Rowan & them were in town, LOL.

Lestat got more aliases than the KGB; meanwhile Louis just sprinkles his long AF unique AF name all over the place. 🤦 But I guess it's ok, since the tour guide never mentioned him & Claudia by name. (Not Tom Anderson in another finale, LOL.) Louis so offended the tour guide said he ran a voodoo cult. XD

Fall of the House of Lioncourt-Melmouth.

You're gosh darned right! THEE Louis of Troy is in the building!

You love to see it. "A wearisome fledgling; all the millennials are--" not Lestat making PALE PROXIES of rat-catcher extraordinare LDPDL out of millennials. 😭

Lestat, if you don't get your crazy arse outta here with that bloodstained wooden keyboard Imma ROTFLMFAO.

NO JOKE, I effed up my friend's whole set when I started screaming "Siri, Pause," cuz my friend's Siri started freaking out and effed up the volume! XD

HERE WE EFFING GOOOOOOOO

(Best scene all season, fight me on this)

You know this was TEARING Lestat up, cuz of what happened in 1973--I gave Louis to you so you could do BETTER by him than EYE did, and instead it's NICKI ALL OVER AGAIN.

Imma smack him--this is NOT the time to be self-loathing, Lestat!

NOLA is my home--and the SAINT is not a city--I'm gonna cry.

He did. He just forgot, when reality settled in and the allure/nostalgia/glamour wore off. "I tried to make nights awful for you." Not the whole time, Louis. Y'all actually were happy b4--even Claudia said "the easy times" stopped after Florence died; and esp. after Charlie died. Lou can't be blamed for grieving his mom's death, and he definitely can't be blamed for Lestat & Claudia falling out after Charlie. Everything that happened after that--the 7 years of depression--was ALSO Lestat's fault. "I wanted you to suffer, cuz I was suffering;" I'm glad Les just waved that aside and said they BOTH wronged e/o.

He's not suicidal anymore then! He has nights in front of him to look forward to! So Lou can finally "learn to live honestly" with HIMSELF.

And Lestat dove RIGHT ON IN with that! He's been carrying that with him for DECADES, worried about Louis & what happened.

I LOVE that Les' language changes (the way his voice CRACKS and goes so TINY, oml)--he asked Lou in 1973 if he was "ill," and if something had happened TO him; so as to not spook/trigger or blame him--but he can ask more candidly now in a (relatively) "healthier" 2024 if Lou tried to hurt/kill himself; and get a more candid/honest answer. CLOSURE, y'all, I'm gonna cry.

GOOOOOOD. Don't EVER forget your daughter. Y'all need to have a Claudia Memorial; to KEEP remembering her, as she was in all her vampiric splendour, the good times AND the bad times.

I KNOW this hurt Louis to his effing core. The way Jacob cried FIRE!

I'm so glad Lou hugged him--YES YOU WERE, Uncle Les. And you KNOW it; you FELT that bond b/t y'all, even if she never looked at you. The distance b/t y'all was in name only, cuz a little Black girl couldn't have TWO daddies in 1917 and have one of them be white on top of it. I AM YOUR MAKER, sure, but you were her BLOOD FATHER, and she loved you, which is why she hoped you'd help her.

ANOTHER ROUND IN THE STORMY ROMANCE OF YOU TWO. 😭👏

What are these magical off-mic speeches/pep-talks Louis keeps giving people in Season 2?!? THE PEOPLE WANNA KNOW, gosh darnit!

DRATS.

I get why Jam said they thought the Loustat ending was "satisfying." It was nice, even though I'd've preferred to see Lestat in the Dubai penthouse at the end. :\

I LOVE THIS, AMC, thank you! ❤️

[finitevariety]

louis. louis, there's cloud storage now. he has all the notes in his gdrive

c'mon man. lestat has spent 70 years being tormented by his dead daughter and going insane and EVEN HE can use siri. i'm not saying you need an aws certification but you gotta know about the cloud by now

[sillyvampireboi]

Armand kidnapped my Siri! ao3

Summary: Even though he is the super mega famous vampire rockstar, Lestat de Lioncourt. Who loves messing up and getting involved in human lives and stealing hearts of millions, the innovations of technology are not an easy thing even for him to conquer. 

contents: not beta read, nothing series here I was just having fun, LouisxLestat, ArmandxDaniel, attempt at humor, modern era

a/n: A disclaimer here: I can’t speak French! Every French sentence or word that is in this text, is translated by google translate. I wanted to include that funny detail that whenever Lestat becomes too angry he switches to French. If you can speak French and they don’t make sense at all, please let me know and I’ll correct them<3 

Also idk on which floor Louis lives. It was just a wild guess. 

I love Armand and Daniel so much hihi 

This whole plot is thanks to @giosnape and me joking around~ 

~English is still not my first language ~ 

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As the sun slowly disappeared behind the tall, modern buildings of the city, the desert-like heat subdued to a chilly, warm temperature. Deep below at the foot of the cold towers, mortal life continued to carry on. Tiny cars and even tiner figures continued their journey like small ants in a forest. However, high in the sky, their humming noise did not pierce through the dark air. An other, intimidating and furious noise echoed through the clouds. 

Somewhere around the 50th floor lived Louis de Point du Lac, who gave the mortal world the knowledge and rules of vampires with his eternal lover and companion, Lestat de Lioncourt. The screaming and growling came from the rockstar, who had a “disagreement” with his electronic device for the fourth time this evening. 

“Hey Siri, I said open Spotify.” 

“ I’m sorry. I did not catch that.” 

“I. Did. Not. Asked. You. To. Catch. Anything. Just open Spotify!” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” 

“Open it tu es stupide1— “ 

Ah yes, Spotify. Lestat’s favourite application on his iPad, thought Louis as he was watching him getting increasingly angrier by the minute. However, Louis didn’t understand why he kept insisting to use the free version of the application. He sat through mindless advertisements with the most pitiful expression on his face. Of course, Louis offered to buy the premium for him, but he refused, stating that he “deserved this hell”. Whatever it meant. 

They were in Louis’ spacious living room, with the windows opening towards other skyscrapers and providing a view to the busy below world. Both of them were sitting on the new, colorful sofa, in the middle of the room.

“Hey Siri, change your language to French.”

“I cannot.” 

“Do you insult my intelligence?!” Barked Lestat. At this point he was getting pinker and pinker in the head, all of his veins pumping the sweet blood he drank this evening into his face. 

“Espèce de morceau de brique ! Quand je te dis de me parler français, tu me parles français!” 2

Louis found all of that amusing, seeing his husband getting so unreasonably furious over such a minor thing was the reason he let that go on for so long. Although he broke 15 iPads this week and it was only Wednesday, so as enternating as it was, he thought it wiser to de-escalate the situation. 

“It’s not trying to insult you babe. It’s merely a simple technology, still growing in a child’s shoes.” - chuckled Louis. He couldn’t help but smile at his lover’s frustration. 

“Don’t tell me it’s simple technology mon cher!! It can speak, so tell him to speak French! It understands you.”

Two popular human expressions of this time appeared in Louis’ entertained mind: oh my god and ok boomer. He glanced at Lestat again. His golden curls framed his beautiful face, and his sharp yet soft profile was ruled by a burning rage. Here he was sitting, the Wolfkiller himself with Magnus’ and Akasha’s blood circulating in his dead, powerful body and arguing with an ai voice. Louis thought he saw everything during his endless life, but it turns out his companion is still full of surprises. 

“Lestat, I simply don’t have such a strong accent anymore. Don’t think much of it.” 

“But when YOU speak to him, he listens!” 

“It’s a programmed voice babe. It’s called technology, it doesn’t listen in the same sense as you or I listen.” 

“Programmed? By whom!?? Do you see? There is someone behind this and they do it on purpose! Je le savais!3” - Lestat rose with a strong animation in his long, elegant limbs, while his blue mirroring eyes burned with unrestrained hate.

“No Lestat, it’s not like tha—“

“I know you are listening! I hope you are having fun! Parce que ça ne durera pas longtemps.4” - He screamed into the poor screen of his sixteenth iPad, then he broke into a French cursing wave as he walked around the space, continuing to hiss at his iPad in his hands. 

“I will personally go to his lair and see that the gremlin is behind all of this!” 

“Gremlin? You mean Armand?”

“Oui! It must be him, no one else is capable of such evil doings.” — he snarled as he sprinted towards the open balcony, taking his iPad as “evidence”. 

“Lestat, listen to me. It’s not Armand. It’s the program.” — But in a blink of an eye, the rockstar’s all consuming air disappeared from the room, leaving Louis to his mirth. 

***

Armand and Daniel settled into a tiny but cozy flat outside the city center. Alright. It wasn’t any little apartment, it was Daniel’s on the other side of the globe. Armand insisted on it, saying he simply wanted to study the new environment. 

During this events filled evening, the couple was covered in a peaceful silence. Daniel, now being a vampire and not needing to rest, was working on his new book: The Vampire Lestat. The rhythmic tapping of his keyboard filled the apartment and the gentle evening breeze carried it towards Armand. The ancient one liked nights like this one. He found comfort in the domesticity of it. 

While Daniel was consumed with his work, Armand was occupied with his iPad, the same as in any other hour of the day. He was murdering the villagers in a new Minecraft server, now being bored of exchanging materials with them, when suddenly the window broke and something forcefully entered the flat. A gush of wind it felt at first, bringing a feeling of dread with it. 

A tall shadow loomed over Armand, as he was sitting on his favourite sofa, and spoke with a voice strained with emotion. 

“I hope you enjoyed your little play, Armand. But what is enough is enough!” — the towering gloom was Lestat in a state of total distress. His usually perfect locks were tingling around his neck and face like Medusa’s poisonous snakes. His eyes burned with rage, drinking in all the shades from the room. 

The boyish figure looked up at him with huge questioning eyes, way too slowly for the blond’s nerves. His usually unreadable face was conformed with confusion. In his beige pants and dark shirt, the same dark coloured as his angelic curls, he looked as beautiful as ever. This innocence fueled the burning flames inside Lestat’s veins further, threatening an upcoming explosion. 

As he glanced away from his eyes, he saw the iPad in his hand.

“Agh! You see? You have an iPad. I knew you were behind this whole appeal!” — he grabbed Armand by the neck and yanked him up. His soft lips were still sealed with silence, only his eyes and face showed more and more confusion. He let himself be dragged towards the blond haired figure, letting his body gracefully loose. 

“Tell me how you do it!” 

“Do, what exactly? I don’t understand any of this.” — a slight annoyance slipped into his quiet voice as he continued to stare at Lestat. 

“You manipulated him on my iPad, with your mind tricks!” 

“You are as deranged as ever. If you have a problem with modern technology, take a walk to the Apple Store.”

“Apple Store? I don’t want apples! I want justice!” — bellowed Lestat into the heavenly face. 

Armand grew annoyed by the behavior of his formal love, so he punched him in the chest, flying him into the wall. 

A rage filled dance began between the two. Daniel, who left his work to investigate the first sound of chattering, now stood in the kitchen, observing their fight. He wore his accustomed expression of half sarcasm and half gayness, as he felt the presence of Louis besides him. 

“So this what decades old anger issues look like in person, huh?” 

“… yeah.” 

The reporter and his interviewed remained in the kitchen, watching the fight unfold, then softening somewhat. 

“It’s your fault.” 

“How is it my fault?? Just touch the gear sign and change the rules of your iPad!” — stated Armand, with obvious impatience in his voice. — “And leave Siri alone.” 

“Now you want to get Siri too??!! Espèce de méchant gremlin!5  You want to take him from me as well and tricking him into not understanding French?! ONLY I HAVE SIRI, you KIDNAPPED him from me!”

“No, I have my own Siri! Leave him alone! My love, Daniel, he wants to take Siri and my iPad! Daniel! Tell him to stop!” — Lestat jumped at Armand, trying to forcefully take his iPad from him, while he continued cursing him out in French and Armand calling out for Daniel’s help. 

“He learns something new every goddamn week, Louis. What will be next, accusing Armand of leaving negative comments under his YouTube channel? — signed Daniel tiredly. They were still standing in the kitchen, not even attempting to help the two iPad kids in the living room. 

“But he does leave negative comments.” 

“Oh come on, you know what I mean. He thinks all of his modern problems come from Armand.” 

“I admit he is overreacting a bit. But give him some time Daniel.” 

Daniel didn’t answer, just looked back lazily at the two ancient vampires, who were quarreling over their iPad as little mortal kids. 

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Translations: 

1 you stupid—

2 You piece of brick! When I tell you to speak French to me, you speak French to me!

3 I knew it! 

4 Because it won’t last long. 

5 You evil gremlin! 

[your-hologram]

Honestly watching Lestat using an Ipad and talking to siri feels illegal like what are they gonna show us next? Him using snapchat filters and sending fire emoji to Louis???

[aquarines]

now that we know that lestat is used to all the modern day inventions (like siri and apple products) the first episode of season 3 should feature him walking into a walmart and being absolutely mesmerised by everything there

[foreignemotion]

Enduring in B Minor

Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac

Summary: As a hurricane approaches New Orleans, Lestat de Lioncourt sifts through his memories of past loves, familial and romantic. Little does he know, fifty years of waiting to hear of Louis de Pointe du Lac's wellbeing is about to come to an end. Word count: 1.2k Warnings/Tags: canon compliant, missing scene, hurt/comfort, pining, memory loss, reunions. A/N: Wrote this following the finale of IWTV S2. All Lestat needs is a kiss on the forehead and he'll be good to go.

—

The advantage of ivory keys was that they did not have a tendency to wear away as easily as wooden ones. Never did Lestat miss the weight of them beneath his fingertips more than when a finger slipped into the incorrect groove. He would wince, hearing the unfitting note in his head clash with the tinny, electronic score that Siri sputtered out.

She, despite her uses, played but a caricature of what an orchestra could. She could not hold a candle to the feeling of drums that reverberated through him when he performed on stage, beating out an irregular heart’s rhythm through his undead body. She could not replicate the shrill of a too-fast violin that would sing through his veins; he would find the boy’s eyes in the orchestral pit and feel his breath catch, the play slowing around him as he stretched out time for another moment to bask in his attention.

Lestat blinked back into Louisiana. He found his hands clawed, nails sinking into the soft wood. It had been made smooth by both his hands and the humidity. He breathed in deep, scenting the Mississippi river and the hurricane that followed eagerly on its heels. The house, and the bunker he was in, seemed to quake in fearful anticipation. Siri continued her lament, awaiting his accompaniment. His fingers lay poised above the keys, yet the thoughts of Nicolas—young, sweet Niki—had made way for thoughts of another.

Louis was the stage-lights that had warmed him for so many nights. With Louis near, he was reminded of what the sun’s embrace could feel like after centuries of bleak midnights. In his absence, there was a deep ache in his bones that he refused to leave him. On the worst of the lonesome nights, when candles were his only company, his teeth would chatter until he ground his molars together. His jaw would absorb the shaking as best it could before it spread to his shoulders, his hands, his entire being. Only when he tasted iron did he realise he was crying, chest heaving with sobs.

Slowly, he lowered his hands to the wood again, fingertips finding their way into familiar grooves as he tried to shake off the ghosts of past lovers. Lestat took up the threnody again, his movements slow in their practice. With each note, he attempted to compose himself, but mistakes betrayed his usual flawless playing. If he still had use of a proper piano, he would have slammed his hands across the keys, causing the instrument to groan discordantly in protest. He could do no such thing with his wooden imitation, and he gripped it with the intention to throw it aside. After a moment’s hesitation, he loosened his grip and sat back in his chair, letting memory overtake him. There was no use fighting them off any longer; they were a monster who demanded to be heeded.

Lestat remembered the date and time exactly. 11:07; September eighth, 1973. New Orleans had been shrugging off her summer heat yet continued to wrap herself in humidity like one would a favourite shawl. Armand’s voice had come to him, his sultry tones like summer smoke, telling him that Louis had harmed himself. Lestat's breath had choked from him, throat constricting dangerously. The sun and her fledgling—fire—had taken too much from him already.

“Tell him I love him, Armand,” he had begged, “Please.”

There had been no reply. He had screamed Louis’ name long after he knew Armand could no longer hear him.

Worry still gnawed away at Lestat like a worm within an apple core. All these decades later and imagined images still haunted him. He had seen Louis burned before, and had carried him up to coffin himself, but his mind was a cruel mistress. She conjured images of fat and sinew bubbling under the sun to expose the bone beneath, of skin sloughing away into ash.

He had seen this all before. He knew the pain of losing your own flesh and blood; he had felt it in the very marrow of his bones.

He did not know if he could endure it again.

As try as he might, he could not weave together all the threads of memory about the trial. It was an incomplete tapestry, the piece long abandoned. Lestat remembered the script, the stage, the smell of singed flesh. He recalled his limbs feeling leaden, his thoughts fogged. He remembered Louis’ wavering voice, his terrified jade eyes, bloodshot and beautiful. He remembered Claudia’s defiance, her words as sharp and cutting as a razor. He reminisced on her bravery, her protectiveness. He could never forget the way she had turned to him for help. Lestat remembered his own shame in being able to only watch.

He would never forgive himself for not being able to save both of them, but most of all to not rescue Claudia.

Lestat resurfaced from the clutches of memory like a man drowning, gasping for breath. He reached blindly for his piano, clutching it in his shaking hands. The wood grounded him, reminding him that he was no longer in Paris. He hunched over the keys now, hair grazing the wood as his fingers picked up the music again. He could lose himself in the notes, to remind him of anything but those he’d lost.

The door to the bunker slammed open, kicking back against the wall. Lestat refused to let it interrupt his playing, yet the smell of warm blood was tantalising. The two rats his catcher had brought him were larger than most; their heartbeats were frantic despite their quietness. Animal blood was tarter than that of a human with a tang that clung to the back of the throat, yet Lestat could not admit he was overly fond of the taste. Yet, is hunger betrayed him, fangs pricking his tongue.

It was then that another scent caught Lestat’s attention.

He continued to play, his catcher drivelling on about the hurricane, before beginning to question his own existentialism. He had heard all this before, but at least it had come from someone he had loved, let alone tolerated…

He was sure that his senses were deceiving him. Louis had always smelled exquisite, like fresh rain laced underneath cigarette smoke. It was intoxicating. It wrapped around him now, almost suffocating in its closeness. It had to be the hurricane, bringing new scents to him the closer it got to the city.

Then why could hear a third heartbeat in the room?

“Who you?” His catcher demanded; his voice had turned away from Lestat.

“Hello.” The illusion that was Louis replied.

Why did his voice sound so close?

He was in such a reverie that when Lestat answered that the name slurred on his tongue. Louis had always tasted even more deliciously than wine.

“Louis…”

Lestat lifted his head from his piano then, if only to confirm that his mind was playing tricks on him. He turned his head, and there he was, those emerald eyes finding his sapphires from across the room.

Time slowed to a halt, the world quietening around him.

“Hello, Lestat.” Louis said, voice smooth as the darkest merlot. Lestat thought he’d never hear it again, and he had to swallow the tears pricking his eyes.

“Hello, Louis.”