#Vampire chronicles x reader

[nightqueen1221]

I crave good requests so I'm just putting tags of fandoms I want requested. If you're seeing this on a tag you follow or whatever, feel free to send a request after reading my rules.(Pinned Post)

[nightcolorz]

we don’t give devils minion era Daniel enough credit bcus imagine ur boyfriend (who can kill you) has the emotional volatility of an ultra mentally ill teenager and u fight constantly and not only is this bitch prone to tantrum style throwing and breaking things when he’s angry, he can also *read your mind* and 100% is going to call u out and break down cry and scream etc over something you DIDN’T EVEN SAY OUT LOUD 😭😭 like omfg Daniel can have the most restraint in the world during an argument and his uncontrollable stream of consciousness is still going to get him in deep shit, it’s a miracle he fared as well as he did actually

[lady-phasma]

Armand N$FW Alphabet

I’m trying not to make these what I want to do to/with him but they are headcanon. Note: I headcanon him as omnisexual so the below works with all genders.

Warnings: I don't really think I need to put this given the title but MDNI. Mentions of sex, implied trauma, just graphic in general.

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Armand is kind and soft afterward. No matter the scenario he will check on his partner’s emotional state and offer them comfort if needed. As for himself, he won’t ask for it but sometimes he needs it (especially after anything D/s related). Although he’s usually pretty chill and relaxed afterward, at times he can be energetic and chatty. The more intense, the more chill he will be.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

This is heartbreaking, but I don’t think Armand would have a favorite of his own. He’s not vain in that way and is really insecure. He does like to show off his tiddies though. As for his partner: eyes. I think he would be enamored with the eyes of all his partners.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A lot. I’ll throw in some weird TVC headcanon I’ve had for over 20 years: vampire cum is pale pink. It’s a blood thing, like their tears. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this stuff. Armand cums a lot. I mean a lot. (More detail under S below.) He’s indifferent to it with his partners as long as they climax, he doesn’t have a cum kink but it’s turned off by it either.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

All of them! But seriously, maybe that he enjoys being a switch. I think Armand is much more Dominant with women, but not always. He’s very into whatever his partner is into and adjusts easily. It’s a secret because he wants to be whatever his partner needs, but he also truly enjoys the fluidity and flexibility of being a switch within the context of D/s.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Very experienced and very talented. No matter what parts his partner is rocking Armand has experience. He’s very open-minded about sex and, although maybe not particularly laid back, he has learned a lot in his time. He doesn’t like everything, but he has probably done it at least once.

F = Favorite position

As with most things, this will depend on Armand’s partner. However, he really enjoys being on the bottom and watching his partner if at all possible. Even when he feels Dominant with his partner he enjoys being underneath them. I don’t know that he has an absolute favorite, but he wants to be able to see his partner.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Armand is very serious most of the time, but not uptight during sexy times. Silly things happen during sex and he’s probably experienced it all anyway. There’s no point in making his partner nervous or embarrassed. He’s not going to be giggling during the act, but he will certainly laugh when appropriate.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is so well groomed! Series canon shows us that he cares about his appearance. He is nothing if not fastidious. His pubic hair would never be neglected and it definitely matches the drapes and his glorious chest hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment?)

Armand enjoys intimacy to a degree and depending on the circumstances. He needs it more than most. It doesn’t have to be deep, but it has to be present. He is highly attuned to his partner’s emotions at any given moment so he requires that connection. Unfortunately, he doesn’t require the same attention in return. He is deeply invested in his partners and their mental/emotional state during sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This act is all about efficiency and need for Armand. It’s not a self-love situation. It’s also not perfunctory exactly. He enjoys it and needs to do it. But he doesn’t light candles or watch porn. If he feels the need it’s possibly because his partner isn’t available or in the mood. It’s not a harsh affair, but it’s not going to take very long. I want to watch this so badly!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I’m going to skip the general D/s stuff because I have a couple posts about his D/s interests here and here. He’s definitely into degradation for himself (but would find it difficult to do to a partner) and he’s very into praise (for both himself and his partners). Probably his biggest kink is hands, touching and being touched (see W for more info about this). Vampires have naturally perfect manicures so their hands are generally pretty sexy, but the act of touching communicates a lot for Armand. Suck on his fingers, scratch your nails down his back, let him reciprocate, or just a soft graze of the back of your fingers against his cheek, hands might be his biggest turn on.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In his own home or domicile, for sure. He needs to feel safe to let his guard down completely. He doesn’t care where, but he will be most present and relaxed in his own space (or that of his partners). He does enjoy a little public action and isn’t above public displays of affection. However, he can be himself most comfortably in a safe, familiar place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I interpreted this two ways: Armand gets excited by seeing his partner get excited and that he gets turned on by words as much as physical touch. Praise him, tell him how beautiful he is, how much you want to do to him and what (or what you want him to do to you), tell him how much you truly desire him and he’s ready to go. But watching his partner react to his words/touch makes him horny in a different way entirely. He can’t get enough of watching their eyelids flutter or them bite their lower lips involuntarily.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Hard limits would be “dirty,” human bodily functions. He’s too old, too fastidious, too him to be into any of that. He doesn’t enjoy being restrained or tied up. If his partner holds him down a safe word can trigger immediate release, but the time to untie knots, etc would take too long and he’d have to use his strength to break them. That doesn’t interest him. Pin him down because he lets you overpower him? That’s sexier anyway.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Armand loves giving oral! He is enthusiastic and talented. Not only does he get completely engrossed in the act, he likes to use it to overstim his partners if they really enjoy oral. He likes receiving as well, but is usually less focused on his on enjoyment than that of his partner. In light of that, if his partner is submissive or just enjoys giving, he will happily receive.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Like most things, this depends on the mood/vibe of the situation, but Armand is typically slow and sensual if he’s in charge. However, slow and sensual doesn’t exclude rough this alphabet is from a template so I wanted to point that out. Whether he’s in charge or not, fast and hard can be a lot of fun for him, but maybe likes that best when he’s submissive.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Armand loves spontaneity in his sex life. Anywhere, anytime. But if the quickie turns into something more, that’s fine by him. He likes to flirt and imply, goading his partner into initiating the quickie even if he won’t initiate himself. He especially enjoys quickies as a surprise. He doesn’t mind if it’s in public or private, quickies are fun and add interest to his sex life.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

So many. He likes trying new things with people. He enjoys pushing his boundaries and helping others push theirs (with consent). If he doesn’t enjoy it he won’t do it again. He definitely enjoys acts that are taboo or unconventional because he’s beyond such human notions at this point. Excitement is difficult to experience after 500 years. He’s not a thrill-seeker in general, but he does like novel and experimental sexual exploits.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Forever. I headcanon vampires as having a short refractory period and Armand is no exception. If he is turned on by his partner he is turned on and insatiable. He’s rarely pushy (though he can seem needy), but he will always be ready when they are. He is motivated by his partner’s pleasure so if he finishes first he will bound back quickly to satisfy them. It’s not a stretch to imagine him going all night with very little downtime if he paces himself. Can his partner handle it though?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Armand doesn’t own that many, but he enjoys using them when his partner does. He would happily use them on his partners if they wished, delighting in pleasing them. There is a shyness about him that might make him reluctant to have toys used on himself by a partner since that requires an amount of attention that can make him uncomfortable. He quickly relaxes and gets past this with the right partner/circumstance and can enjoy the occasional toy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He isn’t a fan of physical teasing (like edging), but loves to flirt. Drawing out the pleasure for his partner or himself is fun for him, but rarely to the point of it being uncomfortable. All of his flirting is used to heighten what will happen later on, so teasing once that has begun doesn’t serve him. He wants his partner to feel good.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Armand is very quiet. Sighs, moans, small groans are his love language. Whispering a command/consent or encouragement or his partner’s name in his silky voice is enough for him. He doesn’t need to be loud or overly vocal to let his partner know how he feels, but he can’t help but moan and praise. He’s not going to scream your name, but he will let you know when you’re being good for him or taking him so well.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is obsessed with touch/physical affection as validation. He needs to be perceived as desirable and having his partners touch him in any affectionate way is crucial to him. (Even if that affection comes from D/s or CNC.) He needs affirmation that he's beautiful and wanted.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

See gif above. Also, he’s uncircumcised. He has a very proper and polite cock.* It’s as beautiful as he is. It’s not terribly long (maybe 6-6.5 inches/15-16.5 cm) but has a nice girth. Did I mention it’s beautiful? Fairly even in tone with a head the color of his fingertips. Let’s not neglect his balls, though. They are small-ish and tight, accentuating his overall length. Very prim and polite as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This completely depends on his partner and their moods. He can be insatiable to the point of neediness if he’s enamored with his partner. If they aren’t upset with him, his libido is genuine and turned up to 11. If they show the slightest bit of disapproval he has a tendency to use sex to manipulate them and gain their approval/affection.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As I mentioned in A, he will be energetic after if it was a fun, quick, light-hearted event. But if it was an intense scene or emotionally heavy, Armand will be drowsy and relaxed after providing/receiving the appropriate aftercare. Unless it was very close to dawn he probably wouldn’t get incredibly sleepy, but he would definitely be chill and calm after.

Note: yes, some of these headcanons/traits are a result of his trauma, if you feel compelled to point that out, go for it, but please don’t assume I wasn’t aware of which are poor coping mechanisms and maladaptive as I wrote them. I didn’t invent him, I’m just obsessed.

*Thank you Stephen King for that term. Polite, college boy cock is one of my favorite descriptions.

This is the alphabet template I used.

[yakultf4thesoul]

Okay, writers, hear me out…

CountDracula!Ewan I need to read a fanfic like this, Tag me or whatever but please I need it

[laurenluvss]

interview with the vampire aesthetic

[loppsided]

l. de lioncourt as your boyfriend

summary: headcanons for boyfriend lestat

pairing: lestat de lioncourt x reader

wc: 302

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of death/killing

a/n: writing for the best fictional vampire yep! again, requests are open, send something for any character on my masterlist! likes and reblogs appreciated.

you were turned by lestat after louis almost killed you (like claudia) and he was immediately enamored by you

buying you elaborate and expensive gifts to please you

teaching you how to play the piano and any other instrument you were interested in

him opening up to you about how he was turned, talking about how it was, being by himself

you and him growing closer that night as you consoled him

you him and louis going to fancy balls and rich parties together to find some rude upperclassmen to dine on

him helping you with the initial guilt of killing after becoming a vampire

you sharing the same hunger as him so he quickly see's himself in you

sharing a coffin together, you holding on to him as you slept while he played in your hair

a very gentle kisser, takes your chin with his fingers and tilts your head up to grasp your lips

slow dancing to orchestral music

having to deal with his anger outbursts every once and while, calming him down and reassuring him everything would be ok

him taking you to paris, milan, tokyo, anywhere you wanted to go

reading together in the huge library he built for you

him getting you the most expensive and high quality dresses or suits

him comforting you when you talk about how much you miss seeing the sun

going to plays together, laughing loudly in the back at how silly they are

him telling you everything he knows from his many years of being alive, never failing to keep you interested as he details his endeavors

you initially having a hard time getting along with him, but slowly warming up to him

debating current issues to keep yourselves entertained since nights can be boring

being spoiled by him constantly

[theladyofthevarioussorrows]

In honor of Lestat de Lioncourt's 264th birthday, I present to you...

Written in Blood, or the Play in which The Brat Prince Ties the Knot

Part I (of IV)

Fandom: The Vampire Chronicles (Gothic horror novel series, 1976-2018); Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire (TV series, 2022-present)

Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt/fem!reader; Lestat de Lioncourt/You

Word count: 3,900+

Characters: Lestat de Lioncourt (Sam Reid, the best version…­­­the only one that matters, obviously); fem!reader; The Vampire Armand (lol ouch); Nicolas de Lenfent (even bigger ouch, RIP); Santiago; Estelle; Celeste; Eglee; Sam; Gustav; Quang Pham; pretty much the entire Theatre des Vampires.

Summary: Fem!reader is the newest addition to the Theatre des Vampires, and Lestat becomes smitten with her (of course he does, the little whore!). Lestat’s allure, charm, beauty, and viciousness are not lost on the reader, and she falls for him (I mean, who wouldn’t, let’s be honest). With fem!reader being the freshest member of the Coven, Santiago “initiates” her (similar to how he brought Claudia in) by casting her as Lestat’s co-star in the next play as his love interest. The play, overseen reluctantly by Armand is about a wedding (in the vein of The Taming of the Shrew, As You Like It, or something similar but accurate to the time period, that is the vibe…Lestat, little miss Lady Macbeth himself, “barely Balthazar” Armand, “too old to play Hamlet, too young to play Polonius” Santiago, and I are all Shakespeare girlies, so I thought it would make sense); fem!reader and Lestat are actually getting legally married, unbeknownst to the mortal audience. Fem!reader and Lestat are to be the bride and groom, Santiago is the Justice of the Peace, and the rest of the TDV are the wedding party. While Armand is still the Coven leader, he “directs” the play and Nicki leads the orchestra. Things do not go the way they were planned to go (in Armand’s case); a story of love, sex, and vampire drama unfolds.

Warnings and additional tags: New/eventual relationship, established relationship, smut (P in V), fluff, mention of sex, mention of masturbation, (F and M), oral sex (F and M receiving), all characters (except the reader, duh) are written to be as close to the way they are in the books as well as the show to the best of my ability, reader-insert, reader-interactive, use of Y/N, Lestat gives the reader pet names in French (this is Lestat, after all), mutual pining, flirting, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism (is anything Lestat does really a secret? No, not really), blood drinking, blood sucking, bloodletting, biting, gore, violence, murder (feeding on humans is the only instance of this), both Lestat and fem!reader are bisexual, age gap (fem!reader is younger than Lestat by at least a bit but it doesn’t really matter as much because he himself is a new-ish vampire; Lestat would still be somewhere in his thirties in mortal years by the show’s timeline), Lestat is very seductive and persuasive (fem!reader doesn’t need much persuading, so it’s not a bad thing), a bunch of mentions of Shakespeare, lines from As You Like It are in italics and dialogue from vampires using the Mind Gift are in bold italics.

Notes: This story takes place while Lestat is still performing with the Theatre des Vampires and is newly a vampire himself. Magnus is obviously dead by now (thank God). The events of this fic take place after Lestat breaks up with both Nicki (he is still alive at this point in time) and Armand, but before he meets Louis de Pointe du Lac and later Claudia. I don’t have anything against either character (I adore both greatly!), this is just a “what if?” kind of situation. This is a basic idea I had had for literal years ever since I read the books, but I didn’t do anything with it until the second season of the show started, specifically episode 10. I wasn’t immune to Harlequin Lestat, and I was FERAL about it. Sam Reid only made that worse for me (God, I am so in love with him…that man IS Lestat. He doesn’t just play him, he BECAME him, and no one else has come close. Tom Cruise and Stuart Townsend could NEVER!). The premise of the fic came to me while listening to “Written in Blood” by She Wants Revenge…one thing led to another, and here we are! Also, yes, I KNOW the vampires don’t “have sex” in the novels, but they do in the show (a LOT). I might make references to things that have happened in the books (mostly Interview with the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat, possibly a bit of Queen of the Damned) but might not have been shown in the TV series yet, so reader beware of that. Let this be the spoiler warning if you are not familiar with the books or haven’t watched the show. I am completely ignoring both movies, because they mean absolutely nothing to me now that the (far superior) show exists. The piece that fem!reader uses for her audition comes from Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It…she is reading as Rosalind while disguised as Ganymede, and Lestat reads with her as Orlando. I thought the parallels were a nice touch. I obviously do not own the rights to As You Like It, I merely used the one scene for Y/N’s audition, and to add romantic and dramatic effect. Special shout out to my best friend Riley for their contribution and ideas!

Language: English (except for a handful of pet names and expressions used by Lestat in French, hopefully I did it correctly. I took 4 years of French in high school, but I am not fluent)

_________________________________________

It was a cool autumn night in Paris, and while mortals slept, the undead were busy welcoming their newest member to their coven inside the old auditorium. The Vampire Armand stood proudly in front of the stage, looking up at the Theatre’s founder and poster child Lestat de Lioncourt, giving him notes and stage directions he knows full well Lestat will not listen to. Next to Lestat was Y/F/N Y/L/N, a freshly turned vampire herself.

Today was Y/N’s audition to join the Theatre des Vampires, and although nervous, she felt at home already among the other thespians in the room with her. With her lifelong love of theatre and literature that only intensified in her newly immortal life, Y/N knew she was in good company. She caught herself stealing glances at Lestat, as if against her will, but she knew she couldn’t help herself. Of all the vampires in this room—the stage director and Coven leader Armand, fellow company members Eglee, Celeste, Estelle, Sam, Gustav, and Quang Pham in the seats, as well as the gifted violinist Nicki hiding in the wings—there is something captivating and enchanting about this charismatic blonde actor. Y/N felt immediately attracted to this man, and she was both alarmed by and pleased with this sudden revelation. Lestat could feel Y/N’s attraction to him, something he found adorable, endearing, distracting, and quite arousing. Lestat gazed at her, a charmingly wicked smile on his face as he admired the young vampire in front of him. Armand, annoyed but pushing the uneasy feeling down, turned to look at Y/N.

“Welcome to the Theatre, dear Y/N. The Coven and I are interested as to how you found yourself in Paris, and how you found us. Please, enlighten everyone,” Armand said, with a slight air of both curiosity and mild arrogance rolled together. Y/N quickly moved her glance from Lestat to Armand and shivered slightly before she answered.

“Hello all, my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, and I was visiting when I was given the Dark Gift. I have been in Paris ever since. I heard about the Theatre through my maker, and through discovering the Theatre, I found out about the Coven.” As she told the truth, she felt Santiago staring daggers at her, full of amusement.

“So, little miss Y/L/N, it seems as though you enjoy the arts, is that right?” said Santiago, with a slithery snark. Y/N nodded her head. “A birdie told me that you’re auditioning with one of Shakespeare’s lesser works, yes?” Y/N nodded again. Lestat’s blueish violet eyes widened as he grinned a little bigger.

“Yes, I will be reading as Rosalind disguised as Ganymede. I hope you find it suitable,” she said politely, trying to stifle a small tinge of laughter. Santiago exaggerated his giggle to mock her slightly before speaking again.

“Hmm, I assume you would like to have someone read with you. I wonder who that could be…” Santiago’s voice trailed off as he shifted his glance from Y/N to the left of her.

The slender, blonde, and devilishly handsome vampire beside Y/N spoke before she could even have the thought to respond. Watching from the wings, the violinist Nicki put a hand to his forehead with a quiet groan.

“I volunteer myself. I know the play by heart,” said Lestat. He shot Y/N a soft but sly grin as he placed his hand on his chest, reeling in the blush that appeared on her face. Armand had to hold back a scoff as Lestat offered to read with her. “I’m quite curious to see how she does, if I may.” Lestat gently bowed as he spoke to her, with a smile on his face and intrigue in his heart. Lestat was many things, and subtle was not one of them. Y/N nodded, smiling slyly back at him.

“You may,” Y/N said, bowing slightly. Her cheeks cast a rosy glow upon them as she smiled. Santiago chuckled to himself, and Armand choked down another scoff as he looked back to Y/N and Lestat.

“As you wish. Lestat, you will read with Y/N as Orlando, starting from his entrance after Jaques exits the scene. Y/N, you will follow.” Armand crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the two vampires in front of him on the stage.

“Yes, maître,” said Y/N, slightly nervous but strangely excited about reading alongside this hauntingly tempting creature next to her. She got herself into character quickly, trying to fight off the thought of how sweet Lestat’s blood might taste on her tongue and how soft his full lips must be, among various other salacious and primal things that she wasn’t aware of that she needed or wanted. It wasn’t an unwelcome thing—Lestat had something disarmingly attractive about him. Y/N felt drawn to him somehow, but she tried in vain to hide it. Lestat cleared his throat and prepared himself as well, his own pale skin turning a faint pink as they moved to the middle of the stage. Butterflies fluttered inside their bodies as they began their scene. After a few seconds of silence passed, Lestat launched into character.

“My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.” Lestat said, remembering the lines from memory as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. Despite her nervousness and giddiness, Y/N began herself.

“Break an hour’s promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o’ th’ shoulder, but I’ll warrant him heart-whole.” Y/N matched Lestat’s intensity and focus as she spoke her lines. Astonished by her delivery, he carried on with his own lines.

“Pardon me, dear Rosalind,” continued Lestat, feeling a rush of adrenaline in the pit of his stomach, the pleasant sensation only growing stronger as she went on. Lestat watched her as she moved effortlessly through her audition, overcome with awe, very nearly stumbling on his own lines as a result. Armand and Santiago watched from the bottom of the stage as Y/N and Lestat kept going.

Armand watched from the front row and noticed Lestat’s immediate and oddly natural chemistry with Y/N and was well aware of the subtle attraction and quiet infatuation she felt towards Lestat. Armand could feel it through her, and it bothered him. He couldn’t help it; he began to feel his face turn green with envy. Santiago, however, was greatly amused at what was unfolding in front of them—and he relished the drama of it all. The rest of the Coven watched from the seats intently, some engrossed, some unbothered. Nicki leaned up against the wall backstage, a pained expression etched on his features. Looking on at his former lover floating across the stage with a woman whom he had only met mere hours ago and watching her fall under his spell just as he had, Nicki shook his head, a grimace forming on his face.

With all due respect, maître…maybe we should keep an eye on the new one, said Santiago, filling Armand’s head with his thoughts without moving his mouth. It’s only a matter of time before our dear founder tries to take her to bed with him…you know as well as I do how he is. And seeing how she’s looking at him—Armand did not want to hear this. Lestat and Y/N were too immersed in their scene and lost in each other to hear them through their own minds.

Armand cut him off. Enough, Santiago. I know very well how Lestat operates. Let them finish. I’ll allow Y/N to continue, for now. We shall decide what measures to take when the time is right… As Armand and Santiago sized Y/N up, she breezed through her audition.

“Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent. What would you say to me now an I were your very, very Rosalind?” Y/N continued as she blushed and smiled at Lestat. Anything he did in his impromptu performance, she followed with masterful skill.

Lestat slowly walked closer to her, his gaze never leaving her eyes. Lestat looked at Y/N, smirking as he brushed some of his long blonde hair behind his ear. He let the silence expand for a second before he continued.

“I would kiss before I spoke.”

Lestat and Y/N gazed at each other as if they were the only beings in the room, amusing Santiago morbidly and annoying Armand profoundly. A mixture of admiration and a deep hunger formed inside Lestat’s chest, and Y/N’s heart pounded against her ribcage. She gulped quietly as she tried to keep up with Lestat. Determined to give the best audition she could despite having to act opposite the most gorgeous creature she has ever laid her eyes on, alive or dead, Y/N tried to fight off her own desire building within her. Soft gasps could be heard from the other vampires watching them from the seats.

“Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking—God warn us—matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.”

Sensing Y/N’s struggle to maintain her composure, Lestat met her energy with his own words. “How if the kiss be denied?” He looked at her for a beat, cocking his head to one side quizzically. Y/N answered him with a playful shrug.

“Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.”

Lestat continued his teasing, delighted by the thrill Y/N gave him. “Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?”

Y/N pretended to scoff. “Marry, that should you if I were your mistress, or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.”

Lestat looked at Y/N with a look of mock surprise. “What, of my suit?” he said, his voice harboring a more sensual tone this time.

“Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am I not your Rosalind?” Y/N floated across the stage like a ghost, every single movement calculated and carried out so smoothly.

“I take some joy to say you are because I would be talking of her.” Lestat’s face reddened slightly as he noticed how Y/N’s jaw dropped, but only for a second before she kept going.

“Well, in her person I say I will not have you.” Y/N let out an exaggerated giggle as she playfully spun around slowly.

A dramatic sigh escaped Lestat’s lungs. “Then in mine own person I die.” He looked back at Y/N as she turned to face him again.

“By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come; now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition, and ask me what you will, I will grant it.” Y/N gazed at the vampire in front of her, only inches separating them now. Lestat reached out to gently caress Y/N’s cheek as they looked deeply into each other’s eyes, making her blush even more obvious in her face now. He has her right where he wants her, and as fate or some other mystical thing would have it, Y/N is right where she wants to be. Once again, Lestat drew the silence out for a beat too long before he spoke.

“Then love me, Rosalind.”

Y/N’s voice trembled a little as she leaned into Lestat’s touch. His unbroken focus on her made her feel slightly faint just from the way he looked at her, but she kept her cool as best as she could. “Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.” She shyly smiled up at him, trying and failing to hide her quiet swooning.

Lestat hung on to every word that left her lips as if he had never heard such language spoken before. Of course, he was no stranger to the stage himself, having been the Theatre’s main selling point for a few years now. The act of performing on a stage in front of an enamored audience always thrilled him, but she…she was different. This new and sudden but pleasant feeling cut him way deeper, hit him harder—he knew that she was something magical. And Lestat wasn’t quite sure where to put that desire and hunger, so he decided to do the thing he does best: he needed to have her all to himself, by any means necessary. Lestat was delighted to find that the feeling was so clearly mutual.

Santiago watched Lestat enchant Y/N as they continued with their performances. He gasped quietly as he saw Lestat become smitten with Y/N, rolling his eyes. Just look at those two! Can you believe them? They’ve made eyes at each other from the second she came through the door. They’ve only just met a few hours ago and he’s looking at her like Venus de Milo herself…and she looks as if she’s about to melt through the floor. Armand found himself becoming more and more annoyed as Lestat and Y/N carried on like they were, and Santiago took notice. Maître, you’re grinding your teeth…

Armand huffed quietly. I said let them continue. Y/N is smarter than we realize. If she doesn’t know who she’s getting herself tied up with, she will. I can guarantee that. Armand maintained his mildly annoyed expression as he crossed his arms over his chest. I see potential in her. We can use that potential.

Santiago, ever the drama queen but also the suck-up, tried to push Armand’s buttons. How shall we do that, maître? I wonder what our violinist has to say about this…I can’t imagine he’s especially thrilled about—

Armand cut him off once again. Be silent now, Santiago. Nicki is the least of my worries right now.

Now mildly aware of the growing discomfort in the pit of Armand’s stomach and Santiago’s antagonizing of him, Lestat continued to read with Y/N. He was enraptured by her, this was true—but he also found quite a bit of amusement in making Armand uncomfortable. Y/N, less aware of the effect her performance is having on the Coven leader and his all-too-willing sidekick, matched him masterfully.

“And wilt thou have me?” said Lestat, sultry and low.

Y/N nodded her head and smiled. “Ay, and twenty such.”

Lestat felt his heart flutter in his chest as he moved closer to her. “What sayest thou?”

Y/N gently bit her lip then let it go with a smirk. “Are you not good?”

“I hope so.” Lestat rolled his eyes in a sassy manner.

“Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?” Y/N went on, closing the small space between herself and Lestat.

The vaguely pained expression did not escape Armand’s face. Still wanting to maintain some sort of order and power over his Coven, Armand kept his focus fixed on the two vampires on the stage in front of him.

Santiago, an evil grin taking shape over his features, watched Lestat and Y/N’s bond become deeper by the second as Y/N continued. “Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando.” Y/N gently reached for Lestat’s hand, and he placed it in hers, tangling their fingers together. She looked to where the audience would be sitting. “What do you say sister?” Y/N looked back up at Lestat as he gazed back at her, their vampire eyes blown out with love and desire for each other.

After what felt like an eternity, Lestat put his finger under Y/N’s chin and gingerly tilted her head up. He started to move down to press his lips to hers, and she moved up to meet him. He closed his eyes, and her eyelids fluttered shut as his lips gently—

A groan could be heard from Armand as Santiago abruptly rose from his seat and applauded loudly. Lestat and Y/N snapped out of their trance and pulled away from each other, no longer able to hide their blushing. The rest of the Coven began to applaud as well. The vampires Sam and Gustav were enthusiastic in their encouragement of the new potential member of the Coven and her undeniable and palpable chemistry with their Theatre’s founder. Celeste looked on with a proud smile on her face, while Estelle clapped wildly. Eglee rolled her eyes before eventually joining in with her applause. Backstage, Nicki shook his head again as he quietly left the auditorium, quietly cursing under his breath.

“Very well done, Y/N. Very well done indeed,” said Santiago, sounding giddier than he probably should. He looked at Armand. “What say you, maître?” he asked with mock amusement.

Armand once again did not listen. He looked up at Y/N as Lestat released her from his gentle but bold embrace. “Exquisite work, Y/N. Exceptional. While we evaluate your performance, you are welcome to remain here with the Coven. We have provided a coffin for you near your maker’s.” Armand started to dismiss everyone before he turned back to Y/N. “We do expect you to keep our hours, curfew is three o’clock sharp.” He shot a subtle but menacing glare at Lestat. Lestat rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself as he turned his back to him. Armand looked at Y/N again. Lestat smiled warmly at Y/N as he winked at her.

Still reeling from everything that just occurred, Y/N nodded and bowed. “Yes maître, I will. Thank you all.” Armand dismissed Santiago and the rest of the Coven, and they all left the auditorium.

It was then that Y/N heard a sensual and seductive voice inside her head.

Très bien fait, ma chérie. I’m impressed.

Y/N turned around to find Lestat leaning against the piano on the stage, his arms crossed over his chest, looking her up and down, dripping with genuine curiosity and insatiable desire. She blushed and smiled as she met his gaze.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, Lestat. It really means a lot to hear.” Y/N walked over to him, slightly nervous but not at all deterred. “You were amazing yourself.”

Lestat rolled his eyes playfully at her compliment but accepted it. “You flatter me, mon amour.” He stood up straight and walked over to her, looking down at her with that softly sly smirk again. “I must say, my dear Y/N, you are quite the actress. Many have come and gone from this theatre, but none have bewitched me so like you have, ma petite fleur.”

Y/N swooned at his words, slightly taken aback by the sincerity in them despite the obvious attraction. “Oh, you’re too kind. It’s not often I’m in the presence of someone so…” She caught herself getting lost in his eyes again—something she has by now realized is very easy to do—before she continued. “So…enchanting as you.”

Lestat chuckled lowly. “Is that so? Well, you have captivated me too, love,” he said, pausing briefly as he took the sight of her in. “I haven’t seen such talent on this stage in quite some time, Y/N.” She blushed deeper as she took a second to gather her thoughts. Y/N sighed softly before speaking.

“Thank you! I’m just happy that I can finally do what I love to do. Up until today, I thought it was unfortunate that I couldn’t do this kind of thing when I was mortal, but I don’t have that feeling now that I’m here. In an odd way, it feels right like this.” Y/N chuckled lightly.

Lestat listened to her words intently. “I know that feeling very well, mon coeur. For what it’s worth, I’m quite glad you wandered into our midst. I can see already that you’re passionate about the Theatre, and it’s refreshing. You’re simply lovely.” Y/N smiled at his words of admiration and encouragement. “I cannot wait to see what other talents you possess, if you don’t mind my saying so,” he said with a smirk, appreciating the slight drop of her jaw. Noticing the positive tension on her face, Lestat spoke gently to her. “Oh, and don’t be nervous, chérie. There is nothing to be afraid of. I have no doubt you’ll fit in here, I am sure of it.” He traced her jawline affectionately before tilting her head up to bring her eyes to meet his, just like he did during her audition. “And, if I may be so bold, I would love to get to know you better. If you’ll have me, of course.” Y/N’s eyes widened as she swooned. She nodded as she stuttered slightly.

“I’d love to, Lestat. I would be honored.” Y/N felt her heart jump into her mouth. The gorgeous blonde vampire in front of her reveled in how flustered she looked as he spoke to her.

“Very well then, dear Y/N. We’ll continue our little conversation after your initiation tomorrow.”

Y/N gulped. “My…my what?!”

Lestat giggled slyly. “You heard me correctly, ma chérie. Welcome to the Theatre, darling. You’re one of us now as far as I’m concerned.”

“But…Armand said—” Lestat gently placed a finger over her lips to shut her up as he spoke lowly to her, sultry and dripping with desire.

“Shh, ma jolie fille…never mind what that manipulative gremlin Armand said.” Lestat let his finger gently drag across her bottom lip before letting it go. He brushed some of her hair behind her ear as he continued. “I’ll be seeing you backstage afterwards, yes?”

There was no way for him to be coy about his appetite for her any more than he had earlier. The vampire Lestat de Lioncourt, the Brat Prince himself, was anything but shy about his unquenchable thirst for Y/N; it only grew exponentially in the few hours since he met her.

Y/N felt as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs as she nodded. “Of course, Lestat. You will.” She smiled at him, trying to regulate her breathing.

Lestat smiled wickedly at her again. “Très bien, mon amour. I’ll see you then.” He caressed her face again before turning to walk away. “Bonne nuit, ma belle. Sweet dreams.”

Y/N could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she smiled. “Good night, Lestat. I hope you sleep well.” Blushing, she beamed at him, and he smiled back, a blush of his own on his face.

With that, they left the room. As she lifted the lid to her coffin next to the others to crawl inside it, Y/N gasped as she heard Lestat’s voice in her head again, stopping her momentarily.

Remember what I told you, ma petite fleur. There is nothing to worry your pretty little head with. And know this too, my darling: I don't bite...hard.

[jayktoralldaylong]

Seeing Lestat again in Season 2 really reminded me how much Armand broke him. No one has been able to make Lestat cry the way Armand makes Lestat cry. And that's saying something cause his abusive parents and Magnus came before Armand, but no one has matched Armand's level of crazy.

And I think it's because the other tortures were...brief?

He ran away from home, the abuse from his parents stopped. Magnus died and that stopped too. Armand, meanwhile, has decided to dedicate the rest of his immortal existence to torturing Lestat. It has become his favourite pass time.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Even the scorned women are learning work from Armand. 💀

Everything about Armand just messes with a person's mind.I t's the way he's not even chasing Lestat around for me. 😭😭😭

He really like "I'm old enough to be your biggest problem by staying in the same spot for 5 centuries." And he was right. 💀😭

I hear the next season is gonna be The Vampire Lestat and oooooh boy. 💀💀 People are about to discover just how terrible Armand can be. Baby's name gonna be dragged in the mud when the secrets get out. Gonna see if he can gaslight his way out of this one.

(Who am I kidding? Bro was torturing Louis and Daniel AND still had us feeling sorry for him. He can gaslight his way out of anything.)

[cece693]

Pain (Lestat de Lioncourt x Male Vamp. Reader)

This small fic came to me while looking through Pinterest. You know those little 'aesthetic' quotes? Well, it came from this one specifically: 'I loved you even when it hurt.' This fic includes things from both the movie and TV show, so no specific Lestat was used for inspiration. Enjoy.

Summary: On the anniversary of his transformation, m/r can't help but remember his past: one that includes his ex-lover and sire, Lestat de Lioncourt.

M/n was tired. Though his outward appearance betrayed no signs of aging—no wrinkles, no gray hair, no creaking bones—the weight of centuries bore down on him. As he gazed at the midnight sun, a harbinger of his impending retreat to his coffin, m/n decided to indulge himself and spend more time out in the open. After all, this was the only time he could enjoy the new wonders of the world, yet this was not just any ordinary day. Tonight marked the anniversary of m/n's transformation into one of the undead.

Reflecting on the past, m/n reminisced about the persuasive allure of Lestat, the vampire who had sweet-talked his way around rationality, promising a life brimming with pleasure and abundance. In the initial decades, it was a splendid existence.

Lestat had a way of making m/n feel truly special. The once mundane aspects of mortal life were now elevated to extraordinary heights in the vampiric realm, and Lestat made sure m/n felt the full extent of his newfound powers.

There were moonlit strolls through shadowy alleyways, where Lestat shared the secrets of their immortal world. He spoke of the intoxicating thrill of the hunt, the taste of forbidden blood, and the freedom that came with transcending the limitations of mortality. Lestat created a world where every moment felt like an eternity of bliss. However, m/n should've known his novelty would wear off.

Lestat was a man driven by desire and ambition, wanting to taste the newest and finest things in life. What would m/n offer to such a monster who had already taken everything? So when Lestat's attention was redirected to another human named Louis, m/n felt pain.

He was angry at Lestat for casting him aside, yet the blame couldn't be placed on him alone—m/n should've known that a creature such as Lestat could never be tied down, despite how much he proclaimed to love you. So, when the ethereally beautiful vampire introduced Louis as his newest creation, a realization dawned on m/n. Lestat wasn't his anymore.

And Louis, the unwitting figure in their love triangle, bore no blame for his and Lestat's fallout. M/n grappled with conflicting emotions, attempting to cultivate hatred towards the vampire who seemed to have stolen Lestat away. Yet, against his own efforts, all he could muster was pity. For as much as Louis and Lestat showcased their 'love' through tender kisses and clandestine touches, m/n saw through the facade.

In the quiet moments when Lestat thought no one was watching, m/n observed the flickers of longing and boredom in the vampire's blue eyes. It became evident that the passion between Louis and him, while palpable, was also marred by perpetual restlessness. Not even months into Louis' stay did the cracks in their relationship begin to manifest themselves.

"Out with Antoinette?" Louis would hiss, the accusatory tone hanging heavy in the air, ensuing another argument between the two. As the discord between Louis and Lestat escalated, M/n found himself unwittingly becoming a refuge for Lestat. The vampire, seeking solace in the familiar, turned to M/n whenever the storms of conflict raged with Louis. In those moments of anger, Lestat was M/n's again, yet it also drove him to the brink of madness and unhappiness.

He had days, if lucky, where things would go back to how they were—a semblance of the love they once shared. But whenever the storms settled between Louis and Lestat, m/n would be relegated to loneliness once more. One day, unable to bear the emotional rollercoaster any longer, he confronted Lestat. The air was thick with tension as they stood facing each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them.

"You can't keep doing this, Lestat." M/n pleaded, the frustration and anguish evident in his voice. "Keep me here when you clearly love Louis. How would you like it if I were to do the same?"

M/n regretted saying anything as Lestat's eyes darkened, and a snarl emerged on the vampire's lips. In a sudden, swift motion, Lestat pinned m/n to the wall, his grip firm and possessive. The room seemed to close in as Lestat hissed, "You belong to me."

"I don't belong to anyone." M/n retorted, anger engulfing his body.

Lestat laughed coldly in his face, grip tightening, he smirked. "That's where you're wrong, love," he taunted, his voice dripping with both amusement and cruelty. "I own you…"

The possessive declaration sent a chill down m/n's spine, his anger giving way to a growing sense of unease. Lestat's dark laughter reverberated in the confined space, echoing the shifting power dynamics between them. Trapped against the wall, m/n felt the weight of Lestat's control, a dominance that left him conflicted and vulnerable.

Lestat's smirk widened, his gaze predatory as he continued, "You're mine to protect, mine to control. I've tasted your blood, felt your heartbeat sync with mine. You're bound to me in ways you can't comprehend."

M/n, trapped against the wall, felt a cold chill run down his spine at Lestat's words. The once cherished intimacy between them now felt like chains, binding M/n to a fate he hadn't fully understood.

In a moment of intense emotion, Lestat, fueled by the strange dance of power and desire, leaned in, capturing m/n's lips in a possessive kiss. The meeting of their mouths was both a declaration of dominance and a desperate attempt of Lestat's to re-establish his control over m/n.

Perhaps, in his pursuit of novelty and excitement, he had unknowingly neglected his first creation in favor of the alluring Louis. However, what neither m/n nor Louis knew was that, hidden beneath the layers of Lestat's charismatic exterior, there existed a capacity for love.

As Lestat's lips sought dominance in the heated kiss, there was an intricate play of emotions beneath the surface.

The neglect that m/n had felt wasn't an absence of love but rather a reflection of Lestat's internal struggle to navigate the complexities of immortal relationships. Lestat, a vampire with a history of numerous lovers, had reveled in the pleasures of passion without feeling a deep emotional connection—until m/n entered the picture. Even his intense relationship with Louis didn't compare to the profound connection he shared with m/n.

As the intensity of their heated kiss began to wane, Lestat pulled away, his eyes fixed on m/n with a mixture of possessiveness and intensity. "If you dare to run away," Lestat whispered, "Know that I'll drag you back to my side. And that's a promise."

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Symphonies of Eternity

Vampire Moon, elegantly playing the violin: you are late for the concert, I am almost offended. Should I punish you with a thousand kisses, my cruel aurora?

Hunter Y/N, smiling playfully: sorry, honey, I was too busy picking out the right blade to cut your head off with.

Vampire Moon, purring, adoration in his eyes: thorough and dedicated to details, as always. The stars should envy me for having such an adversary, there is no greater delight, nor pleasure more sweet, than the divine wrath only you can offer.

Hunter Y/N, approaching closer, their gaze soft: such words you say, my lord. Poetry instead of actions. I am yet to receive these infamous kisses you keep mentioning, you are not the only one that has the right to be offended. Do you no longer love me? Are your promises mere lies?

Vampire Moon, disappearing into shadows, manifesting once more right in front of his dear Y/N, pulling them close: have you not been taught about the dangers of whispering your wishes to the forces of darkness? Do not tempt me, elsewise I shall have you rule the Kingdom of Midnight along with me.

Hunter Y/N, mischief in their eyes as they swiftly pull out a holy dagger and gently press it to the side of Moon's neck: how easy it is to lure you, I play with your temper the way you play with your instruments. Silly jester. Remember that one time when I made you dance with me till dawn?

Vampire Moon, slight shock in his crimson eyes, soon replaced with wickedness and desire: sly serpent, cunning little hunter. I do not fear your blades. Each of them is dear to me. Slice my flesh open and I shall equate it to a tender caress.

Hunter Y/N, pouting: you really know how to make it weird, don't you? Nevermind, dawn is close anyway. Shall we dance? I arrived far too late tonight for us to play, anyway.

Rays of vermillion grace the horizon, gently nudging the night away, Moon's appearance changing as the two lovers kiss, royal sunlight ruling once more.

Sun, kissing Y/N's hand gently before leaving: Do not be late for my next performance, love. I have composed a symphony just for you.

[madnessr]

Reunited Chapter 1

Summary: 300 years had passed since 1725, where three vampires had lost the only thing that mattered to them. Now in the year 2025, they are reunited with the one person they cannot lose again.

A poly Lestat, Louis, and Armand x Reader relationship

Warnings: Slight gore, cursing, mild angst

Word Count: 5k

Here it is guys! The first chapter to this series. Please let me know what you think, your comments make my day!

Masterlist

The Queen Mary, a ship built alongside the RMS Queen Elizabeth, was constructed to express service between Southampton, Cherbourg, and New York. The intention was to provide competition to super-liners built by European companies in the late 1920s. However, by 1965 the Queen Mary was no longer profitable and soon retired in 1967, retiring in December on the shores of Long Beach, California. 

All of this happened 31 years before you were even born, the notorious ship now growing roots against the harbor, nourishing a reputation for being hunted and cursed. Attracting self-proclaimed ghost hunters and other psychics to try and connect to the ship's past. 

But winds were changing, and in early January of 2023, the descents of Cunard White Star, the original owner of the Queen Mary, announced a revival. A luxurious experience reliving the thrills of the 1920s, promising to carry the Queen Marry across the oceans once more for a final and elegant vacation for anyone who wanted to set sail on history, departing from California and arriving in Italy. 

Social media and dedicated Queen Mary fans went wild over this news, claiming this could be the next generation of the Titanic, while paranormal enthusiasts couldn't wait to explore the ship for longer than just a night. However, you, along with many others, saw the announcement for what it actually was, a job opportunity. 

Inflation being at an all-time high since the 1980s, you, along with 63 percent of Americans who are also living paycheck to paycheck, could use the extra cash, a place to stay was a given, no matter how small the staff rooms would be on the ship, you wouldn't complain. Having nothing to lose, you handed in your resume along with hundreds of others. You felt confident in your chances of being accepted, making a note to highlight your previous career in the American Symphony Orchestra as a cello, and when worst came to shove, you also were a waitress at one point. 

The Queen Mary was not set to sail until 2025, leaving the hiring staff an entire two years to sort and select applications. Leaving you and many others in a state of radio silence. So, you promptly forgot about it. Moving on with your day-to-day life, you continued working ungodly hours, living off unfair wages, and living one day at a time. Until you had the wonderful delight of experiencing your boss, someone you furthermore supported through extra shifts and on days off, made a choice to fire you. 

Or, as she said, "Needing to let go of such a valuable employee due to the current economy." A load of bullshit if she asked you, but she didn't, and with your belongings sitting in the classic cardboard box, you made your way back to your apartment. 

Unlocking your door, letting your feet kick the old wood on its rested hinges closed behind you. You dropped the box carelessly, letting yourself sit on your second-hand couch with your head in your hands. 

You had faced many challenges since moving to America, leaving your family in Austria to make it big in the symphony orchestra only to be eventually let go by an abusive boss. Leaving you as a waitress at Denny's for the past two years. Of course, your family didn't know; how could they? 

You had left them. Had promised and gloated about your upcoming success just to end up in a shabby apartment in a dangerous area and now unemployed too. You were tired and have been for the past two years, but today was your breaking point. Like a cold shower, realization gradually washed over you, forming a heavy puddle in the pit of your stomach. You had failed. 

You wouldn't return as the prodigy you had hoped to be; you wouldn't return wealthier than when you left. Damn it, you couldn't even sustain yourself anymore; the only way you'd be returning is with a walk of shame. How were you supposed to look them in the eyes again? People who unconditionally believed in you, people you made promises to like prayers. 

You were ready to finally give up, throw the white towel, raise your flag, and surrender. You could already hear your grandmother, rotted in old sexist views, present you as an example to your younger siblings. You could practically hear her nasally voice, "Women have no place pretending to be anything they aren't." She always said that; it was almost her slogan. Whenever you had a new idea, when you aspired to be in all kinds of careers, from pilot to singer, she denied every single one. She wanted you to be a wife; nothing more or less was suitable. 

The dawning realization hit you that not only did you fail, but you proved her right too. Your young siblings looked up to you and watched you prove her wrong as you lied to them. Yet, you still pretended to be successful, that you were a part of symphonies, and that employers were constantly looking to recruit you. So not only would you return as a failure, but a liar too.

In your well-deserved moment of self-wallowing, you heard the rusty sound of your mail slit open, watching a letter fall to the floor. You stared at it, silently praying that this wasn't the icing on the cake, and your landlord decided to hand out eviction notices. Then, slowly pushing your lethargic body onto its feet, you hobbled over and picked up the letter. 

Ripping the envelope open carelessly, your eyes scanned the paper. You had been hired as part of the staff regarding the Queen Marys voyage, glancing at your calendar briefly, nearly two years after fucking applying. Due to a staffing issue provided by a system failure, you were hired as part of the waiting staff and, on occasional afternoons, a part of the on-sight orchestra. 

A dry laugh escaped you, flipping off the air as you grinned tiredly. "Not yet, grandma, not fucking yet.." 

The sound of seagulls singing, the smell of seaweed, drying kelp rotting on the shore, and the salty mist of ocean air surrounded you as you passed the crowd. It was boarding day, and you and the rest of the staff members were instructed to board early. But how was that even possible when you had to survive a sea of people instead of boarding a ship. Kids running around, clerly excited, young adults in their groups babbling about the cruise, while you and another worker, Ella, stuck out like a sore thumb in your 1920s-style work uniform. Considering that was when the ship was built and set out to sail, the owner of the Queen Mary only deemed it fitting that the boat preserved its history. 

Along with all the "excuse me's" and "pardon me's," your eyes caught on to a peculiar pair of men. Both sporting shoulder-long locks, one a cheerful blonde and the other a content-looking brunette. Their odd fashion was comparable to yours if they wore formal uniforms. But the clothes looked so ideally suited to their bodies, not an inch of fabric out of place. You just assumed they were history enthusiasts and wanted to match older decades. You caught the gaze of the blonde man, whose laughter and smile stilled as he watched you. A chill traveled down your spine as the eye contact was far too intense for your liking. Ella grabbed your arm carefully, guiding you through the crowd so you two would stay aware of the situation. Finally, you managed to get to the elevator, showing your employee passes before being able to board. 

You glanced out through the glass elevator walls, once again catching sight of the two men from earlier. Yet this time, six pairs of eyes stared at you; a look of shock and utter disbelief fell across their features. There was this incredibly odd, almost indescribable feeling of deja vu washing over you like those handsome faces were familiar. Finally being out of the rush of guests, you had a moment to stare. A man with black hair joined them, his strands of dark locks reaching further down than the others. He looked stoic, calm even, but his gaze connected with yours when you looked at him. He smiled, a gentle soft one that you barely even noticed. But it made you feel something—content. Like the man rarely ever smiled but had done so for you. Before you could fall further into your ridiculous daydreams. You looked away, feeling creeped out as the doors opened, letting you walk up the ramp and board the ship. 

The ship's interior was a work of art all on its own. The lobby, displaying a decorative wall resembling a fountain behind the reception desk, stretched from one corner to another. Several seats and booths were set up to serve as the reception worker's primary domain. Being guided through the halls, past the main entrance seating area. You passed a golden elevator; there was something old-time about it, displaying a large panel to indicate which floor it was on at the top. A large, almost clock-like arrow guided its passage. 

The staff was then split up and shown to their rooms. The halls had a fancy, royally red carpet as the floor. Beautiful golden embroidery gives it a more meaningful design as you pass the countless rooms. Having been given time to settle yourself, you glanced at your room. It looked similar to a standard, single-bed hotel room. A door leads to a closet on your right, being reflected by a body mirror parallel to it. There was a sliding door made of glass on your left, leading to a simple bathroom. A regular-sized bed and a simple bedside table on either side are in the middle of the room. You had put your suitcase against the chairs, flopping onto your bed for a moment to breathe. 

A sharp, almost tapping or knocking sound was heard from your window. Making you snap your head up; nothing should be able to hit your window, considering you were on a ship, high above the waves. Standing up, you glanced outside, watching the night nearly overshadow all the waiting guests if it weren't for the street lamps and store lights. Shrugging, you turned around once more and were later ushered to the restaurant you would serve at with Ella. But, again, given the summary of what was expected of you, you wouldn't be a waitress tonight. 

The restaurant was built to look fancy. Circular tables have neatly, if not ironed tablecloths draped over them. Two plates, four pieces of cutlery, wine glasses, and a white cloth napkin folded in a triangle on each plate. Pointing to the grand chandelier in the room's center, casting the room in a delicate orange glow. Along one side of the restaurant stood a small stage, a few instruments being displayed along with a cello. 

Tonight, you would be entertaining the dining patrons from 6:00 pm till 7:00 pm as the ship's doors finally opened to the public. So, you took your place on stage, skillfully preparing yourself for your session. 

The ship boarded similarly to airplanes, where more exclusive—or affluent passengers got to board first, following up with different groups sectioned by letters. Eventually, the calming silence in the ship slowly became something more welcoming. A soft, joyful buzz of people waiting for their upcoming vacation, or rather journey with bated breaths. 

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less. You were getting good money and had yet to decide if you were even returning to the ship to sail back to America. So instead, you might just stay in Italy for a few weeks. 

There was something so comforting in the idea of just doing as you pleased. No one to find you, just wandering down a road and seeing where it would take you. You were a day-to-day kind of person, and you saw nothing wrong with that. But recently, your days have grown to become boring. 

So, as you heard the loud roar of the ship's horn. You smiled to yourself. You had officially set sail to hopefully new and more exciting adventures. 

Gradually, guests began to appear in the restaurant. So, you started playing a casual, soft jazzy tune. Chatter filled the room, almost like a chorus as you played. You found yourself enjoying the atmosphere; everyone in this room came here for one thing: enjoyment. 

For your scheduled hour, you did nothing but play and enjoy. Playing Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker, Waltz of The Flowers; to Saint-Saëns The Carnival of The Animals. You played it all, a gentle smile tugging at your lips whenever a note hit so beautifully. Sending shivers down your arms and goosebumps, you never failed to get when music was played. 

You hadn't changed one bit. 

Perhaps you would've grown shy while performing if you knew, but this moment had no significant meaning to you. You're just doing your job, simple as that. But what meant so little to you made dead hearts begin to leap again. What it meant for them to see you again, thriving, living, and mortal. Three-hundred unforgiving and torturous years did they spend without you. They spent years getting over your death, and while getting over you wasn't ever accomplished, continuing to survive was. Although blood lacked its taste, the night air its crispness, and music its charm. You stood there on a small stage. Single-handedly providing their miserable lives with color again. With meaning. Although they had long forgotten what it meant to be, or instead feel human again, this was the closest they'll ever get to being so vulnerable. 

Lestat, although having been the most stubborn about accepting your death, was now struggling the most to understand that you were, in fact, alive. Right in front of him, so reachable, so obtainable. But he didn't dare move, frozen in his chair as he watched you. He had dreamed of you every cursed second you were apart, and some part of him didn't want to accept this as reality. Countless nights did he awake in his coffin, arms that had been around you in his dreams now empty. He never minded how cold his skin felt, but nothing was more challenging than the loneliness you left behind. His grief denied him this moment, compared to Louis, who felt nothing but joy; he just couldn't, unlike Armand, who shared the same happiness and disbelief as Louis. 

He was certain you weren't really there. 

To wake up alone after this moment once more, after something that felt so real. So Lestat stayed where he was, silently grieving the only sun in his life that didn't hurt, and enjoyed the sight of you in front of him, alive once more. 

But before you knew it, and any of them wanted to accept, your time was up, and a young pianist came to take your place. You bowed, unaware of the three men who had watched your entire performance with bated breaths. 

As you left the scene. One thing was understood between the three of them; the world wasn't the same without you. They had been given one thing they never had themselves, a second chance. One thing was for sure, they won't lose you again.  

Now that it was seven pm, you were finally able to properly explore the renovated ship. Heading out onto the deck, the breeze gently ruffled your hair. A familiar coldness from the night air hugging you close, enveloping your entire being. You leaned over the railing, tall, half-drunk champagne glass in your hand as you chatted and joked with your newly acquired friend, Ella. A little younger than you, she was a college student who had dropped out of her recent major and decided to take a year off. To find what she really wanted to do. 

You couldn't really judge her for it; teens were forced to make such detrimental decisions way too early, in your opinion. But there was more to life than grades and results. 

A soft clearing of the throat could be heard behind you two. Turning around, you still saw one of the gentlemen from earlier. The one with shoulder-length brown hair tied neatly into a low ponytail and old-fashioned attire. You could tell that he tried looking more modern, but the way his dress shirt and waistcoat snatched his waist so beautifully, you refused to believe the man would ever wear modern-day, baggy clothes and sweatpants.

"Pardon my intrusion, ladies; I just wanted to compliment the wonderful cellist this evening." He mused, a crooked smile framing his face. Ella glanced at you, a playful, bowing smirk tugging at her lips before she nodded. "How wonderful; I'll leave you two be then. My break is over now anyways." She mused, quickly slipping away as you stood there. 

Turning your full attention to the stranger, you smiled welcomingly. This was your favorite thing about traveling. The number of strangers you meant along the way, the people, the stories, the lessons. People never seemed to become boring to you; there always seemed to be something there that always kept you intrigued. 

But something about this stranger didn't feel comparable to all those previous experiences. This man seemed to feel so familiar. "Thank you." You mused you weren't shy by all means, but this man and his companion gave you the oddest of feelings. 

"Excuse me," you began. Then, fully capturing his attention with your words, "But have we met before?" The moment the question escaped your lips an expression painted his face you couldn't quite decipher. 

"Mind if I join you?" He asked, keeping a distance before you nodded. Inviting him to stand beside you, leaning against the railing and staring out at the dark sea. The lights from the ship give the only indication of the waves beneath you, the light softly reflecting against the surface. 

"I don't think we have." The man finally responded to your previous question, his eyes watching the light reflection paint the waves beautifully. "I wouldn't have forgotten someone like you." He hummed with a playful glint as he turned to you and smiled, his forearms resting against the railing. 

"Someone like me?" You asked, chuckling at how broad that phrase was. But, of course, that could mean anything, good or bad. 

"It's a wonderful evening." The brunette mused, occasionally glancing at you as you continued sipping champagne. You awaited his reply to your question but gradually accepted that he would leave your curiosity hanging. "It really is. Have you sailed before?" You asked, attempting a light conversation. The man couldn't help but chuckle as if your question had been silly. Now getting your attention, you stared at him, eyes requesting an explanation for his outbursts. 

As if sensing your confusion, he turned around. His elbows rested against the railing along with his back. "Yes, I have, many times, actually." You nodded, "To where?" But, you added, all kinds of travel interested you, so this wasn't strictly special. 

"You'd be surprised where you can go just by ship." But, although you nodded, traveling by ship was rare besides the vacation cruise or exporting cargo. Perhaps you just didn't know better, but you didn't feel like prying or exactly learning anything at the moment either.

"You know, Mr.—"you trailed off, not knowing the man's name. He smiled at the gesture, having no problem filling in the title for you. “Louis de pointe du lac.” 

You raised your eyebrow, finding such a long name an oddity. "Well, Louis de pointe du lac–" You began again but were again cut off, "Louis. Please refer to me as Louis." 

"Well then, Louis, it was a pleasure meeting you." You mused, not noticing the minor quirk of his smile as you said his name.

"Louis!" A loud voice called in a chiding and scolding manner. The man was obviously annoyed, he was the one with blonde hair styled similarly to Louis's. However, his anger seemed to dwindle when his gaze flashed to yours. He stared for a moment, before softly bowing. You raised your hand to try and prevent the man from literally bending to you, but he simply grasped it. A touch ever so gentle as he kissed the top of your hand, cold soft lips meeting your blazing skin. “Pardon me my chérie, I’m Lestat de Lioncourt, at your service.” 

After your shock finally calmed, you couldn't help but chuckle at the theatrics of this display. Bowing sheepishly, grabbing the edges of your uniform as you did, "Hello, gentleman, I'm Y/N L/N."

The soft sound of someone clearing their throat shifted your attention again, directed at the last man with long black hair in the group. "As lovely a name as ever, I am Armand." He hummed, making you realize the soft accents they had. Louis had an American accent, Lestat carried a faint French accent, and the man who had just introduced himself as Armand sounded European. 

"How rude of us to bombard you like this chérie, care to join us for dinner? I'm afraid the night isn't getting any younger you know." Lestat mused, an eager smile stretching at his lips as he chuckled. You smiled at the offer but shook your head in refusal. "Although I'm not usually the type to deny a dinner with strangers, I'll have to pass this time. I'm too tired to provide any enjoyable company this evening." You hummed, slowly stepping away from what appeared to be a disappointed blonde. 

"Perhaps another time." You added, smiling softly as you turned to the brunette. He shook his head playfully, "Don't mind him, have a good night Y/N." You nodded, waving a little as you finally left. Entering the ship once more as you made your way to your room, letting out a small sigh. The first day of anything was constantly exhausting in your eyes, but today sure gave you hope for more eventful journeys ahead of you. 

You completed your routine rather quickly, but it was still odd to feel the occasional sway or shift of the boat. It was very subtle, but you would notice if you focused on it. Removing your uniform, you let it against one of the vacant chairs before hopping into the shower. Luckily the bathrooms were made to look more modern than the rest of the ship; you were a stickler when it came to bathrooms. Being quick to shower, you dried yourself off and put yourself in some loose clothes. You would consider yourself someone who doesn't wear specific pajamas for bed; you would wear whatever was comfortable. 

Laying down after such an eventful day was pure bliss, even though you didn't do anything that was physically exhausting. Your feet still ached from all the walking, your lower back complained from the luggage you carried, and your mental state was even more drained. If there was one thing you were ready for tonight, it was to clock out until someone would bother you again tomorrow. Turning off your night lamp, you were quick to doze off. 

Although your sleep was quick to come, it didn't stay. You sleep in two-hour increments but eventually give up after five A.M. You get dressed, not in your usual work uniform, since you would only have to check in for work late into the day. So at the moment, you were a simple guest. Stepping out of your room, you walked past the halls and suites. But you halted at the loud crash of what you could only assume was furniture tipping over. The noises erupted from the room as if a band of wild animals had been let loose. 

You should have continued walking; this was none of your business. But the thought of it being a case of domestic violence or any other situation where your interference might've helped had you backtracking. You stayed silent, letting your ears strain to make up any conversation through the door. 

"Absolutely not!" A loud yet familiar voice boomed as glass shattering followed the commotion. 

"Why the hell not?" Another voice followed; this was a heated debate between two men. "What are you waiting for, Louis?" A moment of silence, like a glass of ice-cold water, was splashed onto you. You knew these men; this must've been Louis and the other's suite. At least, that's what you assumed. 

You could hear stomping, the screeching of a chair against the wooden floor, then again silence. "Three-hundred fucking years. Three-fucking-hundred! Now you're suggesting that we let her go? Live a human life, a vulnerable, fragile, dangerous human life?" The man's voice, who you pinned as Lestats argued. But the mention of humanity, as if implying that there was something outside of that spectrum unnerved you. We're they rehearsing for some play? 

"No, that's not it, Lestat, and you know that." Louis's voice spoke calmly, but there was a clear, agitated tone. For how long have they been arguing? 

"Leaving her mortal makes her fragile, yes. But turning her could leave her hating us." The accented voice of Armand spoke, making you sincerely wonder who this 'she' was. 

"You're risking everything!" Lestat couldn't believe they had this conversation for the last hour. After your sweet self had retired for the night, there was tension between them. It wasn't until Lestat lured a slightly drunk woman into their room and decided to celebrate his lover's reappearance with a bloody gore fest. Armand had partaken, not with much interest in the human blood-bag, and Louis was his sympathetic self as he drank. It wasn't until Lestat's small comment about how cute you'd look, all bloody and desperate for blood. Fledglings were always so needy once they got a taste, and he couldn't wait to indulge you. Then, of course, there was still the probing question of who would be your sire, your maker. 

But Louis had cut him off, stating that you needed to stay human longer. To grow accustomed to them and eventually to their life. Louis understood where Lestat was coming from; perhaps he would've been more rational if he wasn't so exhausted from their argument. He sat slouched in a soft, red-cushioned chair. Rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe his headache. He sympathized with you because he knew someone would turn you sooner rather than later. He just couldn't bear you going through the terrors he went through; he could still recall the way you had refused to turn the first time they had all met. They had foolishly allowed you to stay human for a little longer, where you had found yourself in a riot and subsequently lost your life in the raging mob. 

He would be a liar if he said he didn't want to turn you too. To have that security, they had an eternity to properly court you, but you were human. Weak and fragile, with so little time compared to them. 

Armand was the calmest in the situation. He, too, wanted nothing more than to hold you like he had always done, to share his gift with you like he had wanted to all those years ago. But you didn't want that then and didn't seem open to something so life-altering now. The risk of developing a bad relationship through actions rushed by their emotions was too risky, despite his creeping fear at the idea of you being human. If they were on a ship, there would be no civil unrest and certainly no outright threats that could actively harm you. 

His coffin has felt so empty without you; for once in his miserable immortal life did he feel at peace. All of them did, and although they all felt torn. They eventually decided to wait to develop a small relationship before changing you. 

You still stood outside, shaking your head at what you had heard. Utter nonsense, complete nonsensical sentences. Finally, you walked off, unaware that your footsteps had been heard. And three protective vampires were not too keen on the idea of someone knowing about them, about you. 

[michaelsheensdoormat]

I NEED MORE AUTHORS TO MAKE LESTAT/LOUSTAT X FEM!READER PLEASE!! I will literally sell my organs for them!!! I cant write for shit......THEY R JUST TOO FINE (Specifically the TV show cast, thanks)

[natsvenom]

Lost & Found - PART 2 | Kol Mikaelson x Salvatore!Reader

SHORT SERIES | PART 1

SUMMARY: 10 years after becoming a vampire, you discover you still have the ability to siphon. No amount of research you do helps you discover why, and you were never able to do it again. You meet a girl named Mary Porter and she tells you there's someone who can help you, but he's the most dangerous man alive, and one of the first vampires to ever roam the earth. But what other choice did you have?

WARNINGS: Minor violence

It had been 44 years ago when you became a vampire. For the longest time you hated yourself, you lacked the one thing you always seemed to have as a witch. Control. Luckily, you had learned the art of compulsion, managing to stop yourself from killing innocent people. Your favorite thing about being a vampire though, was the ability to heal.

Emily Bennett had told you when witches became vampires, they lost their ability to connect with nature. So why did you still feel so grounded to the earth? After ten years of being a vampire, you discovered something.

You were walking down the streets of New York City, it was 1874, and you were looking for your brother Stefan. He had gone off the rails and you decided it was time to give him a concerned younger sister talk. You weren’t sure he’d listen, but the least you could do was try.

You ran your fingers through the cracks and crevices of the dark bricks, humming the tune of an old song you hadn’t heard in several years. You gasp, suddenly being pushed to the wall, a man holding you tightly in place, his face monstrous, resembling something similar to one you often saw in the mirror.

You grabbed a hold of his arm, pinning him against the wall. He was clearly newer at this than you were. He groaned loudly, almost like he was in an immense amount of pain. You were confused, you weren’t holding on to him that tight. You looked down, noticing a red glowing light coming from your hands. That’s when you realized, you were siphoning him, something you hadn’t done in ten years. You pulled back instantly, and the man dropped to the floor, letting out heavy breaths. You looked down at your hands, then back at the man, and then you sped off, without any regard for the man who had just tried to make you his next meal.

After that day, you thought maybe something had gone wrong with your transition. Why else would you be able to siphon still? The truth was, you had no idea what was happening to you, and it freaked you out more than death itself. You tried siphoning again almost every day after the incident, but you hadn’t been able to. Maybe you were just seeing things.

You spent years after that researching siphoners, but you could never find anything. Not a single witch or vampire you talked to knew what you were, most of them just assumed you were crazy or seeking some sort of attention. It was exhausting chasing after what everyone thought was a fairytale.

In 1906, you met a woman named Mary Porter. She was the only person who believed your story and offered you her help. She hadn’t known anything about siphoners herself, but she said she knew a man who could help you, claiming he was an expert on all things witch-related. You had hoped she was right. She warned you though, that this man was anything but good. He was dangerous, and one of the oldest living vampires on the planet. He used and manipulated people, so if you wanted something from him, he’d most definitely expect something in return. Nothing he did for anyone else came for free.

Mary told you if you wanted to meet him, you’d have to be patient, saying he was almost impossible to find, not unless he wanted to be found. She took you to New Orleans, a place he had called home many moons ago. Mary seemed to have faith that he was there though, so you trusted her.

You had spent a year in New Orleans, searching for a vampire who didn’t seem to wanna be found was probably the most difficult thing you had done. How hard could it be to hide in a place like this? Mary seemed to have known a lot of people, and she said she was getting closer to finding him. What you hadn’t expected though, was that he would find you first.

You sat down at the bar in one of many clubs in the French Quarter, a jazz band was playing loudly from the stage across the dance floor. You weren’t really in the mood for dancing though. You order something strong at the bar, fully aware that your ability to get drunk vanished that horrible night in 1864.

A man sat down next to you, you paid him no mind though, your intentions for being here had nothing to do with socialization. He ordered a glass of whiskey, his British accent peaking your interest slightly. It wasn’t often you heard an accent like that, especially not down in New Orleans.

“Rumor has it you’ve been seeking me out.” The man said, his stare burning into the side of your head. You turned to face him and were shocked at how attractive he was, but you still had no idea who he was, so you kept your guard up. He held his hand out, and hesitantly, you took it. A feeling of something dark instantly took over your senses, and that was when you realized who he was. The man you’d been searching for for two years, the one who could supposedly kill you without even blinking, no matter how old of a vampire you were.

“Kol,” He introduced himself, his smile cunning and mischievous. You had wondered if you were making a mistake being here, he was intimidating, and that was a feeling you didn’t like.

“Y/N,” You said.

He picked up his glass once more, bringing it to his lips, “So, what do you want from me?” He asked, getting straight to the point.

Your heart rate picked up. It wasn’t out of fear though, it was excitement, after all this time you were finally gonna figure out what you were. At least you hoped, “I need your help.” You explained.

“Help from somebody like me comes with a price.” He said in almost a joking tone, but you knew he was serious. If you wanted his help, you knew you’d have to return the favor.

“A price I’m willing to pay.” You insisted. He could tell you were serious by that intense look in your eyes, whatever you wanted, must’ve been important.

“Very well then. What do you need that requires my assistance?” He questioned, looking at you very intently.

“Well, it’s complicated.” You sighed, “Before I became a vampire, I was a witch. I learned everything I know about magic from a witch named Emily Bennett.”

“You must’ve had an excellent mentor then. The Bennett witches are a very powerful bloodline.” Kol speculated.

“She told me that witches balance out the boundary between natural and supernatural. Which is why you can’t be both a witch and a vampire because it defies nature.” You added.

“All very true,” Kol said.

“Oh,” You murmured, disappointed.

“There’s been exceptions for certain individuals though,” Kol claimed, swirling the last bit of his drink in his glass.

“Exceptions?” You questioned, raising a brow.

“They’re not exactly well known in the witch community, they like to keep themselves hidden. They’re called the Gemini Coven.” Kol explained. You sighed in relief when you realized what you were experiencing was possible.

“They come from a long line of witches called siphoners, which means they have to absorb magic from other magical entities. Most people think that means they're weak, but that’s far from true. A siphoner can desiccate a vampire just from their touch, and rid the influence of compulsion from any person whose been compelled by a vampire. This power of course doesn’t come without a price. The leader of the Gemini Coven is determined by something called the merge. Every time a set of twins is born into the coven they must bind their magic into one once they turn of age, the strongest of the two wins, becoming the next leader of the coven. And of course, if the leader dies, so does the rest of the coven. Unless you’re a vampire of course.”

You implanted the new information into your brain, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. But of course, you still had questions and concerns, “But if you’re a vampire how can you be a part of the coven?” You asked.

“That’s what makes siphoners so exceptionally powerful. They’re the only witches in the world who can become both a vampire and a witch, they’re referred to as heretics. After the transition the witch side has the ability to siphon power from the vampire side, making them quite unstoppable. There’s only one way to kill them, which would require you to rip out their heart, a stake won’t do it. I haven’t seen one in quite some time though, so if that’s what you’re looking for you’re out of luck, darling.”

At first, you weren’t sure if you wanted to tell him. If you did there was always the possibility that he would want to kill you, but you were having magic issues, and you needed help getting them back under control, “What if I told you I knew one?” You said, rather abruptly.

“Then I would ask why you’re coming to me for this.” He said, drinking the last bit of his whiskey.

“And what if I said she doesn’t know anything about heretics and hasn’t been able to use her magic since she’s transitioned? Would you be able to help her?” You asked rhetorically.

“Well, I would have to meet her first and figure out the issue. There are many reasons for magic being blocked.” Kol explained.

“Like what?”

“First tell me to whom you’re referring, and then maybe I’ll give you the answer.”

You looked down at your glass, taking a moment to think, then looked back up at him, “Me.” You said hesitantly.

“You?” He questioned.

You sighed, “Before I was a vampire I found out I was a siphoner, with the help of an old friend, I couldn’t figure out much about my family history, and all I knew was what Emily taught me. Then I became a vampire and I had no idea about heretics or anything, so I just instantly assumed I had lost my ability to do magic.”

Kol looked slightly surprised, but he tried not to let it show. He set his glass down and stood up, “If you want my help, it’s going to take a while. And that’s going to be a lot of debt, darling.” Kol asserted.

You stood up quickly after him, “Please, I’ll do anything.” You pleaded.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

tags | @multifandombliss

[ink-and-blood-goddess]

The Vampire Chronicles Fanfic Requests Are OPEN!!!

ATTENTION ALL FANFIC READERS! I REPEAT, ATTENTION ALL FANFIC READERS!

Since Season 2 of Interview with the Vampire is premiering in eleven days (Sunday May 12th), I've decided to open my requests for this special occasion.

The rules are still the same as always. When making a request through either the inbox, DMs (Direct Messages), or comments, please include a plot for the character you're requesting, so it'll make it easier me to write.

Please be patient and courteous, as I take time and energy into writing fanfics. I have a job and personal life to handle on a daily basis, so it'll take me longer to write your request.

Thank you for understanding and have fun :).

As a side note here: there's different versions of the characters (meaning different actors played them, except Akasha), so you can pick out which version you want a fanfic for.

Lestat de Lioncourt (Tom Cruise (IWTV 1994), Stuart Townsend (QOTD 2002), and Sam Reid (IWTV TV Series))

Louis de Pointe du Lac (Brad Pitt (IWTV 1994) and Jacob Anderson (IWTV TV Series))

Armand (Antonio Banderas (IWTV 1994) and Assad Zaman (IWTV TV Series))

Queen Akasha (Queen of the Damned 2002)

Symbols:

🌸-Fluff 

❤️‍🔥-Smut 

👐🏻-General 

 💐-Dating 

 💘-Romance 

🖤-Angst 

🔪🩸-Violence 

 🔞-NSFW

Citrus Scale: 

🍑 (Peach)-No Sexual Interactions 

🍎 (Citrus)-Romantic hug/or kiss 

🍊 (Orange)-Romantic hug/or kiss with a hint of sexual interaction 

 🍈 (Lime)-Heavy making out with light groping 

 🍋 (Lemon) Actual Sexual Intercourse

[lady-phasma]

Armand x Benji x Sybelle x gn!reader (vampire reader)

No warnings or summary other than this is really, really fluffy. 1.2k words of the fluffiest fluff.

a/n: aged up Benji to about 25 before he was turned because I think the show would do that if they include him, Sybelle was around 25 when she was turned.

Sybelle’s fingers flew lightly over the piano keys. You loved listening to her play, especially while reading. You could read faster as a vampire, but sometimes you enjoyed reading slowly and savoring the experience. Sybelle had recently been composing her own music, rarely writing it down, often improvising. Tonight’s music seemed heavily influenced by Max Richter and was lively yet somehow somber.

She was playing something slower now, mellow. The city lights flickering through the windows and the night sky through the skylight created an ethereal, disconnected atmosphere. You turned the page of your book. Soft footsteps approached and you looked up to see Armand. He sat down on the sofa after you pulled your feet up to make room for him.

“Everything okay?” you asked, placing your finger in your book as you closed it, holding your spot.

Armand didn’t answer, just watched Sybelle. His fingers slid against each other, the only outward sign that his thoughts were overwhelming tonight. You looked away from him to snag your bookmark from the arm of the couch. You dropped your book on the floor and turned to rest your back against the arm.

“Hey. You.” Armand turned to look at you. “Come’ere,” you patted the pillow you had placed in your lap. Years with this group had given you the ability to bypass unnecessary words. You knew from previous experience with Armand that he would decline an offer, but would likely accept an invitation if you seemed to not give him an option, not exactly an order.

He moved slowly, not like a vampire at all. He lay on his side between your legs, one of which was curled under the pillow, the other leaning against the back of the couch behind Armand.

He gracefully tucked one hand under his head and laid the other on your thigh. A human could not have heard the sigh he let out, but you did. Sybelle may have as well, but it was a nearly silent sound. Very gently, almost cautiously, you moved his hair back from his face and traced his ear with your fingertips. His eyes closed as he let himself focus on your touch. You stroked his hair and sent soothing, non-verbal thoughts to him telepathically as he laid perfectly still.

Benji came into the room, shoes clicking lightly as he walked across the hardwood. He kissed Sybelle on the top of her head before walking over to where you sat on the sofa with Armand.

“What’s up kiddo?” Benji pressed a lovely kiss to the top of your head as well.

“Not much old man.” You glanced up at him, no less enamored with his beautiful face than the first time you met. You saw him every night, yet Benji remained one of the most unsettlingly gorgeous people in your sphere. His round, youthful features looked so out of place against his vampiric presence. Damn near unsettling and very sexy.

“How was the podcast?” You were genuinely interested. You loved listening to every episode even if the topic wasn’t always new to you.

“It went well,” he answered as he placed his fedora upside down on the coffee table and sat next to Armand’s feet. “A shorter episode than normal, but Lestat and the ancients have been behaving recently, so…” his voice trailed off as he looked at us. “It seems all the excitement is in this living room anyway.” He smiled and stroked Armand’s shin.

“I’m the life of the party,” you smiled back at him. You gently ran your hand down Armand’s shoulder, resting it on his bicep. “I’ll feed before dawn, but I wanted a chill night in tonight.” You glanced down at Armand’s head in your lap and then back to Benji, catching his gaze. “We all needed some down time, but we’re fine.”

He smiled gently again and shifted at his end of the couch. Armand moved his feet next to Benji’s thigh and Benji rested his hand on one calf.

You made quite the tableau: Armand curled on his side, between your legs, his head in your lap, both of you in comfortable clothing, Benji sitting comparatively stiffly in his suit vest, shirt, and slacks.

“You know,” Sybelle’s voice rose just above the volume of her music. “I think we may need a larger sofa.” She giggled and the sound was as musical as the piano. She finished the last few notes of the song and turned to face the three of you.

“I do feel ever so left out!” Her tone was sweet and jovial.

“Pile on, sis!” Benji laughed as he spoke. Sybelle glided across to you, but instead of ‘piling on’ she knelt in front of Armand and placed her arms on the cushion. She tilted her head and laid it on her forearms. Their faces were mere centimeters apart and the gaze they shared was almost as intimate as if they were speaking telepathically. A tiny smile lifted the corner of Armand’s mouth. Perhaps something had passed between them.

Sybelle slid one hand out and interlaced her fingers with Armand’s on your thigh. You stroked the top of her head then let your hand rest back of the arm of the couch. Benji moved his hand from Armand’s leg to yours, absently rubbing circles on your pants with his thumb. You didn’t look up from watching Sybelle and Armand when you heard Benji’s voice in your mind.

What’s wrong? he asked.

He didn’t say. He came in like this, you answered. You gently smoothed Armand’s hair back. Sybelle looked up at you, her face full of kindness.

“I have an idea,” she beamed up at you as she spoke. “Come. All of you.” She popped up from where she knelt. You looked over at Benji and smiled. He returned your look of bemusement and love. Sybelle was sweet and slightly peculiar.

You watched Benji stand and extend his hand to him. Armand sat up and took Benji’s hand in one movement. They followed Sybelle out of the living room. You rose and followed as well. The four of you went into the bedroom, Sybelle nearly floating, Benji holding Armand’s hand.

The bed was a king size and swamped with pillows. Sybelle tossed a few on the floor. She grabbed Armand’s free hand and led him to the bed. As she did so she kissed his cheek. You stood next to Benji while they lay down. Benji guided you forward with his hand on your back. You slipped onto the bed, facing Armand, while Benji stepped out of his shoes and laid down behind you.

Armand looked at you with large, grateful eyes and you snaked your forearm between his arms and interlaced your fingers with his. He held your arm against his chest. Your knees touched gently. Sybelle wrapped her arm Armand’s waist and snuggled close behind him. Benji reached over you, laying his arm on you and his hand on Armand’s bicep. This wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time you all piled into this bed, but it was one of the more chaste times.

Armand still hadn’t spoken. His face was softer now, his shoulders less tense. He closed his eyes and relished being in your arms, surrounded by his family.

Masterlist

[sselenophiliia]

Guys i haven’t read the books yet But is Lestat actually gay? From everything i’m seeing it seems that Anne Rice portrays vampires as beings that don’t conform to that. Like they’re beyond gender in a sense? I don’t know. I see that but then when i see the fandom they say that it’s a gay relationship but then that’s taking away from the author’s interpretation of vampires. I’m not entirely sure 😭. And i mean the original books not the 2022 series