#but hey lestat is always always always entertaining

[island-in-the-shadows]

Rolin: Seasons and seasons of DM

Me: Slowburn to the point that it'll be six seasons and a movie before those two kiss, got it.

[ghouldump]

I love how you write for Lestat!!!! PLEASE NEVER STOP ❤️❤️❤️

Thicker Than Water | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ you should have known better than to entertain someone who would bring up the idea of leaving your husband and daughter.

lol, thank you, rewatching s1, after seeing s2, he is so toxic 😭 but so passionate and caring about everything he does, and lestat and claudia are so much alike so i thought of this

Motherhood. One of the biggest blessings this life could bring forth. You were unfortunate, turned before you were given the opportunity to bring creation into the world. Lestat always managed to keep your relationship alive, not allowing the chance to think about it, but there were times.

Those late nights, hunting for your next meal like an animal, you’d see mothers, holding the hands of their sons and daughters. Staring for a moment, you could feel your heart, which hadn't beat in years, break. Then Claudia came along, or you came to her, saving her, pleading that Lestat turned her.

He warned that she would be a mistake, forced into the body of a child forever. While you understood him, you couldn't think rationally at the moment. A child needed to be saved and you weren't letting up, begging him, before he finally gave in.

Claudia was turned and quickly became the apple of your eyes. A mother, you had become a mother overnight and you loved her as if you'd birthed her. Her relationship with Lestat always seemed strained, the two constantly bumping heads. You found it adorable at times, they couldn't see how much they were similar, with Lestat’s blood in her veins, she was his daughter through and through.

Your baby, she was, although you may have spoiled her too much. As she grew older, wanting more than other preteen girls, the guilt began to sink in. Your baby, yet instead of taking her to a hospital that night, you forced her into becoming what you were.

“Hey,” you smiled as the front door opened, Lestat walking in. Claudia sat in a chair, while you stood behind her, carefully brushing her hair.

“Hey,” Lestat said in a weird tone, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“He’s such a dick,” Claudia said, crossing her arms.

Staring at the stairs for a second, letting his tone process, as he disappeared upstairs. Putting on your best fake smile, you changed the subject, letting Claudia talk about the current boy she had a crush on.

Your relationship, recently, had been distant. At times it was about things you felt you should no longer do, inviting people into your home, your sex life, threesomes, and orgies. You didn't want to expose Claudia to those things. Then came discipline, you never corrected her, at least not like Lestat. You were gentle with her, always, never raising your voice, and making excuses for her. It was beginning to cause a rift in your marriage.

Braiding the soft curly hair into pigtails, you sent her off to her room, the sun would be rising soon enough. Going to your bedroom, you were surprised to see Lestat already in his coffin.

“Honey, is everything alright?” you asked. One of the essential rules of your union was never to go to bed angry at the other.

“I am fine,” he said with a huff, as he opened the coffin.

“I don't like when you talk like that in front of Claudia,” you told him, watching as he rolled his eyes.

“Claudia does a lot of things I don't like, and I don't complain”

“Yes, you do, to her face and me, she's a child-

“She is not a child, she’ll be 19 in four months. She's a brat who whines to get her way, and every time, you give it to her,” he said, making you scoff.

“Sorry for being a mother to our daughter, even if you don't like her,” you told him, getting into your coffin.

“Y/n,” he called out, his voice full of sympathy.

“Just leave me alone, I'm tired,” you said, closing your eyes to fall asleep.

As night fell upon the sky, you opened your coffin, going straight to the closet, picking an outfit. You could hear Lestat standing up, but you didn’t dare to face him. His eyes set on you as you changed, slipping into the form fitting dress.

“Ma chèrie, I want to apologize for the way that I spoke to you-

“It’s fine,” you told him, adjusting the pantyhose, before stepping into the heels.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a smile, he was still bare, while you had already dressed, and were walking out of the room.

“Out,” you said, nonchalantly.

Leaving out of the room, you saw Claudia come out of her room, looking at you as you passed.

“Are we going hunting?”

“No, I have a few things to do,” you told her.

“Can I come?”

“No Claudia, I have to go alone, see if Lestat will take you”

“But-

“Or go alone, it doesn't matter,” you told her, walking away. You knew you'd probably hurt her feelings, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You couldn't care about anything right now.

You needed a break from both of them. Lestat is such a dick, Claudia is a brat, He wants you all to himself, She is trying to take you from me, it was an endless cycle of them bickering against each other - leaving you to try to be a mediator.

“What did you do, asshole?” you could hear Claudia scream at him.

“Shut up, you insolent brat,” he told her, as you left out of the front door.

Walking through the streets, you attempted to clear your mind. Claudia could be heard, talking, asking if you were alright. If you wanted to leave Lestat for good, but you ignored her. Entering the crowded bar, you tuned out her voice, choosing to focus on the jazz music played by the band.

Sitting at an empty table, you sighed, enjoying the comfort the harmony brought to your sanity.

“Mind if I sit here?” you heard, making you look up, gasping immediately.

“George,” you smiled, your eyes traveling from head to toe, examining the army uniform.

“I thought it was you I saw, I had to be sure,” he laughed, pulling you into a firm hug.

“What are you doing here? I thought-

“I’m only home for a few days, then I'm going overseas,” he said. Truth be told, you weren't paying attention to much he was saying, focused on his Adam’s apple.

“Please, sit, it has been forever,” you smiled, as he sat next to you.

George was a childhood friend, while not exactly your first love, he was your first for other things. You remembered your last time with him, he had been drafted and was being sent away to the military. He was only 18, when he left, that night being over a decade ago.

“You still look as beautiful as you did back then,” he told you.

“I know,” you smirked. You could hear his thoughts, sex clouded his brain, his eyes full of lust.

Leaning close to him, tilting your head, you slowly pressed your lips into his. You and Lestat both had your fair share of fulfilled fantasies, but this was different. Something on your own, the stress relief you needed from the problems in your life.

“You want to come back to my place?” he asked you.

“Lead the way,” you told him, biting your lip, as he stood, walking you to his car.

During the drive, he caught you up on his life and how he managed to rank up within the service. The loss of his parents, inheriting their house while he was away. He went on about how he was getting older and needed to start looking for a wife.

“What about you?” he finally asked as he parked in front of the house.

It wasn't nearly as extravagant as you had become accustomed to, living with Lestat, but it was perfect for a normal, small, but growing family.

“What about me?”

“Your life? How has it been these last few years?” he asked as you followed him, and he unlocked the door, letting you in.

“Well, I'm married and I have a daughter,” you said, chuckling as his eyes widened.

“You probably should've told me that before I took you to my house,” he told you, as you went to the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“It's complicated”

“Then talk to me, you know you can trust me, sweets,” he said, you couldn't help but smile at the old nickname.

“My daughter, she's…adopted, but that doesn't change a thing, she's mine. She and my husband, are always bumping heads, they are so similar and so stubborn. Their relationship is causing a rift, I just need a break from both of them,” you shook your head.

“You sound stressed out, sweets,” George said, reaching for your hand.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Maybe I can help you?” he said, as you looked at his hand, the way his thumb brushed against your skin.

“Yeah?” you smirked at him, as he pulled you onto his lap.

“You don't think she’ll leave us, do you?” Claudia asked her father. They sat in the car, a good distance from the house.

The two of them were worried about you, and while they argued at first, they quickly got it together and chose to follow you. Full of jealousy, it took everything in them to not kill the man the moment he joined your table.

You, despite also having Lestat’s blood, weren't like them. You weren't so quick to kill, hunting rodents before you’d choose to drain a person to death, always trying to bring comfort to the two of them. You held onto human traditions while embracing immortality. From convincing them to partake in family portraits to bonding with the two of them in the living room. They loved you greatly, so much that they'd put up with each other.

“You know this is your fault, she asked you to stop messing with that hussy, and you wouldn't,” Claudia spat at her father.

Lestat could hardly listen, his shaken hand going to his mouth. He could hear undoubtedly, what you were doing, what the two of you were doing. This was different than a threesome or orgy with people that meant nothing to the two of you. They'd usually end up drained or glamoured before the night was over. But this, my god, was different, Lestat felt the lust that you felt for this man, that you knew, and that made him sick to his core.

“You went to see her again?” you crossed your eyes, leaning against the doorpost, as he entered the house.

“She is no competition, ma chérie, it is you, who have my heart,” he told you, as you clenched your jaw.

“I thought we decided to put all of this stuff behind us”

“You did when you decided you wanted to become a mother,” he said, a gleam of disgust in his eyes, briefly staring at Claudia, as he went upstairs.

This was his fault, he had caused the wedge between the two of you, and he had to be the one to fix it. A bloody tear slipped out his eye, while he moved his hair out of his face.

“She won’t leave us,” he told his daughter, as he started the car, driving past the house.

“I have to go,” you told George, straddling his waist, in his bed.

“You don't have to leave,” he told you, his hand caressing your back.

“I do,” you laughed.

“Your family, you can leave them, start over with me, get married, and we’ll make a daughter of our own”

“Those things are easier said than done, I couldn't up and leave them, they need me as much as I need them,” you said, pulling away, to get dressed.

“I didn't mean to offend you, sweets,” he apologized.

“It's okay, really, I just need to get back home, the sun will be up soon enough,” you shook your head.

“Well I can drop you off-

“No need, you don't live too far from my house”

“Can I see you again, tomorrow?”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, before leaving his house, walking home.

Entering the house, you were surprised by how quiet it was, abnormally quiet. Going upstairs, you peeked in Claudia’s room. Everything was neatly organized, with her coffin in the middle of the room, closed. Smiling lightly, you shut the door, before moving to your shared bedroom. Lestat was already away in his coffin, while yours was still open.

Stripping from your clothing, you felt a weight lifted from your shoulders. The previous tense stress that was there before, was gone. Climbing into your coffin, you looked over at Lestat’s before shutting your own.

“Good night,” you said lowly, before falling asleep.

Sleeping throughout the day, as night approached, you felt an uneasy sensation in your stomach. Unable to move, you felt restricted, when suddenly, your Achilles’ heel was sliced. Your eyes finally opened, widening seeing Claudia stand, a small blade in her hand. Staring into her piercing eyes, she held a deep frown, before going to Lestat’s side.

Your mouth was taped, and your body was wrapped in chains, you felt weak and confused. Immediately, you looked to Lestat, whose back was turned to you, before he turned to face you, moving to reveal the surprise.

George sat tied in front of you, tape on his mouth, his face already bruising. George looked at you, before screaming at Lestat, who frowned at him.

“Pathetic,” he said before his eyes went to you. You could see the blood stains on his face that he had been crying.

“Ma chérie, you hurt me badly, both of us,” he told you, before ripping the tape from your mouth.

“What are you talking about? How is this different from you going to see her?” you asked him.

“That was different and you know it, I heard you, I could feel your passion for him,” he screamed at you, tears pouring out.

“No one told you to follow me”

“No, but he will pay, for thinking he was worthy to have you, and for trying to break our family apart,” he said, as he moved to George, using his nail to cut his face.

“Claudia, let me out of this, I need to heal,” you hold her, but she turns her head, the bloody tears leaking from her eyes.

“He wants to take you from us, mama, and give you a new daughter, I know we had our problems, but I never thought that you would want to leave,” she said, crossing her arms.

“I don't, I told him I didn't, I love you both, I’ve been overwhelmed with stress, and I wanted relief, but that's it, not to leave you, either of you,” you told him. George continued struggling to speak. Claudia rolled her eyes, ripping the tape from his mouth, making him yelp.

“It’s true, she said she needs you both, as much as you need her,” George said, making the two look at you.

“Ma chérie-

“Mama-

The two spoke at the same time, making their way in front of you, and wrapping their arms around you.

“I’m sorry for how I've acted, I don't want you to find pleasure anywhere else, just hours with you in the arms of another, feels like death all over,” Lestat told you.

“And I don't want to lose you as my mama, I’ll be better,” Claudia said, her voice cracking. You found both of their confessions heart-touching, becoming emotional.

“You both are perfect the way you are, we should've communicated better as a family,” you told him, as they both agreed.

Standing tall, you watched as Claudia grabbed the bolt cutters, breaking the chains from around you. Lestat helped you stand, holding your waist, as you leaned on him.

“We had to be sure you wouldn't break free if you were leaving with him, sorry, mama,” she said, glancing at your feet.

“It's alright”

“Y/n, help me,” George pleaded with you.

“Your meal, ma chérie,” Lestat eyed him.

“We know you prefer hunting your rodents, which is why we brought the meal to you, as we celebrate,” Claudia said.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Our companionship,” Lestat smirked.

“Our family will be stronger than ever, after this,” Claudia told you.

Looking at George, he was confused and scared. Baring your teeth, you limped over to him.

“Don't worry about the mess, we will clean up,” Claudia said.

“Y/n, what are you-

Covering his mouth, you sank your teeth into his neck, climbing into his lap. Your eyes shut, as you took pleasure in the rarity, the blood dripping from your chin.

“Y/n, please,” George begged, his eyes slightly rolling back.

“Join me,” you told Claudia, smiling as she rushed over, biting his wrist. Looking at Lestat, he was more hesitant, approaching as you held out your hand. Intertwining your fingers, he leaned down, kissing your lips. The blood smeared on his mouth before he attacked the other side of George’s neck.

Leaning against the brick wall, you watched as Lestat and Claudia burned the body. Your arms wrapped around your body, as you watched them interact. They calmly conversed with each other, before they turned, walking towards you.

“And so who was right in the end?” You could hear Lestat talking.

“You were”

“Correct”

“What was he correct about?” you asked Claudia, smiling at the two.

“Blood is thicker than water,” she said, as he pat her head in approval. All you could think of us was how close they seemed.

“It's cause we're a family, mama, we have our problems but we are meant to all be together,” she giggled, as she heard your thoughts.

“You're right, I love you, both of you,” you told them, accepting Lestat’s kiss, before kissing Claudia’s forehead.

“We still have a few hours before sunrise, should we go for a nice drive?” you asked him.

“Sounds perfect,” Lestat said, watching as you turned, going into the house.

“You did well,” he told Claudia.

“I learned from the best,” she said, as they shared a secretive handshake, going inside, pleased, knowing that together they were able to fix the problems in their family.

[the-quiet-youve-been-longing-for]

Okay time for another small (I hope) analysis on IWTV, mainly the way it's written and its place on current television. I'll try my best to format this so it's not ramblings all over, I promise.

IWTV and plot points

I watched a good amount of television in my time, and one thing I noticed here is the fact that it doesn't hold your hand. It doesn't tell you "hey, this thing x is important, now we will tell again why x is important, now here see x being used, the important thing we talked about so far, did you remember, audience?".

Let's take as an example the "don't drink the blood of the living" thing. It's said to a young Louis (telling also to the audience in the 2nd episode how vampirism in this setting works) and then every time it's brought up it's indirectly (Lestat spitting out the sick man's blood, we see Claudia buying Laudanum and we know what it will be used for, but they don't tell us "Hey, Claudia is planning to poison someone so that Lestat drinks it, because remember audience, dead blood kills them"). Sometimes not only it doesn't hold your hand, but shoves you in a different direction, especially in S2. It contradicts himself, backtracks and then it's up to you to spot it.

For example, attentive viewers may have noticed that Sam was in 2 places at once in the trial, one episode before the actual reveal. It isn't a gotcha they came up with in the finale to give more gravitas to the revelation. When they tell us Lestat mass manipulated the audience, it makes sense for the storyline too because we already saw him do that with the soldiers, we have a previous example to refer to, Armand never used that particular power.

In a time where we see so many social media adopt the "short videos" gimmick, like reels and shorts etc, having a piece of media that references back in this way is super refreshing.

2. Character complexity

Complex characters are the backbone of this show. It's easy to place a character in a box and leave them there. You see it with the stereotype of the villain, the best friend, the hero. Some tv shows may have the character shift into a different box, but it's almost never permanent (think of the times where a hero gets corrupted by the Evil Power, but then reverts back to their hero status after Defeating the Evil Power because they remembered the Power of Friendship).

We have Louis, well meaning vampire who is capable of horrible deeds when pushed to the brink. Lestat, who feels so much to the point it hurts the people around him. Armand, whose trauma and fear bring out the need to control, but at the same time he needs to do that without actually controlling. They are all these things at the same time, and it's impossible to see them in a black and white perspective.

3. Details

A line almost always has its parallels to another line in the show, gazes always mean something, props are detailed and shown (I made a post looking at Daniel's notes in 2x05, which were shown for a second only, but you can also think about Claudia's diaries, all handwritten, or the astonishing amount of folders that were in Daniels computer from the Talamasca. That is all prop work done to be shown for a few seconds at most).

4. Analysis

This is more of a fandom thing than the show itself, but I was suprised by the amount of deep analysis that people here on Tumblr did (but also on other social media). Long essays on the meaning of a scene, or on the many many topics the show brings to light (the fallacy of memory, the impact of trauma, the meaning of free will and agency).

Similarly lots of people said that the show brought them back the urge to start creating, whether it's gifs, video essays, edits, fanart, fics, what have you. I started going back to Tumblr after years (last time I was here was during S4 of Sherlock).

And I feel like this is only possible if you give your audience something to work with, something to talk about and to dissect, rather than simple "entertainment".

5. Final thoughts

Of course, this isn't to say IWTV is error free, all perfect, without flaws. Nor is it the only one that has had this amount of labor and impact. But it's still miles ahead from most media we have available at the moment in my opinion, and I really hope its success brings other showrunners or directors to want to try and dare, to trust in their audience, to avoid shortcuts and to pour love in their creation.

If you got this far, I just want to thank you for taking the time to read my ramblings again! Have a cute Louis as a reward, and see you next time :)

[desertfangs]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

AAAAhh this is such a cool idea!! Thank you for the ask! I will be sending this around like a hot potato.

It's so hard for me to pick favorites because different fics mean different things to me but I'm just going to pick the ones that come to mind first.

Lace - Armand/Daniel - Explicit - 4,490 words To distract Daniel from yet another mortal birthday, Armand gets Daniel a pair of lace panties... and demands he wear them out to a bar. I think this is the smut fic I'm most proud of. I really went for it and I'm really happy with how it turned out. It's got crossdressing, sex in public, and weird Devil's Minion games.

Hey Pretty - Armand/Daniel - Explicit - 6,325 words

Speaking of smut, I wrote this for Kink Week last year. It's set not long after Armand and Daniel reunite in Prince Lestat when things are still awkward as heck between them and Daniel figures out a good to way to cut through that is to let Armand watch him feed on a mortal... and then take it back to the bedroom. It's a lot about the strangeness of reconnecting and growing pains of fraught relationships.

Five Times Daniel and Armand Almost Kissed During the Chase Years & One Time They Did - Armand/Daniel - Mature - 5,940

NGL I think this might be my favorite fic I've written. It's definitely the one I go back to read most often. It's just little vignettes of Armand and Daniel getting closer during the Chase Years and it makes me happy. Really proud of this one.

The City Never Sleeps - Lestat/Daniel - Mature - 13,024 words

This is the fic that absolutely took me the longest to write (though Look Right Through is gaining on it with edits). I agonized over every line of dialogue and Lestat is not always easy for me, but I love how this turned out. It's Daniel entertaining Lestat in NYC in the post-canon era while Armand is out of town, and it's a lot about his past with Armand and showing Lestat their lives, but also Daniel knows Lestat wants to connect with Armand on a deeper level and he's trying to help. Also Lestat is having angst about Louis. You know how it is! I really love this fic so it was worth the hair-pulling.

And gosh how do I pick a final one? -frets-

In the Blood - Armand/Daniel - Mature - 4875 words

On Night Island, Armand is fretting about Daniel now being a vampire, and a little healthy voyeurism helps. I think Daniel is a really gentle, sensual killer, which is on display here, but again it's the two of them trying to connect after Daniel's been turned and all of the stumbling blocks that come with it.

Oof that was tough! I will be sending this around to people's inboxes, hoping to see some awesome self-recs!

[nightcolorz]

hey bro love your posts never stop entertaining us pls

random ass question whats your favorite minor character from tvc?

Thank u ❤️❤️ 😁😁

this is a touch question lol bcus I have so many favorite minor characters, I’m a tvc minor character fanatic. I can’t choose one so I’m just gonna list of all my fav minor characters lmao.

I love Khayman hes so real. He reminds me of a socially anxious large dog who just really wants to make friends but he keeps scaring them off 😭. That part in queen of the damned where he reacts to the popularity of vampires in pop culture like a kid seeing themselves represented in tv for the first time was so funny omh i was living. Vampire from ancient Egypt buys Dracula cosplay bcus he wants ppl to like him was a genius idea thanks Anne rice. Khayman just, his whole personality reminds me of a character who’d be in what we do in the shadows he’s so inspired. Omg remember when he was so excited to go to lestats concert and meet other vampires and then he’s inside for two seconds, instantly gets overstimulated, and then sits outside for the rest of the time 😭 Khayman might be me guys.

I also love Fareed and Seth 😭😭. I love that Anne rice casually wrote an ancient Egyptian vampire and a modern day Anglo Indian vampire falling in gay love with each other and funding an unhinged vampire mad science hospital, and the Egyptian vampire is AKASHA’S SON 😭😭. the reveal that Akasha has a living vampire son who has been quietly living under the radar for the entire book series just practicing science and pursuing his passion for healthcare alongside his long term partner had me clapping and cheering I stg. They also have sm personality 😭 especially Fareed he’s so iconic. This bitch tricked lestat into giving him his sperm for cloning experiments and he served cunt while doing it. I love that they raised Lestat’s clone son as their gay dads, just so much there. Fareed and Seth u will always be famous

BENJI MAHMOUD!!! I love him sm. I’m also a big fan of sybelle but Benji occupies my mind a concerning amount. Like what kind of character?? There is sm going on with him. First of all he’s Bedouin and Palestinian and then he’s human trafficked to America by an insane man who wants him to be the house slave and take care of his disabled sister second of all he’s twelve and he’s a canon genius and he chain smokes to cope with his insane life third of all he is turned into a vampire by Marius and grows up into an immortal child who’s unfazed by being twelve for ever bcus hes such a chad it doesn’t affect him and he becomes a rich and famous business owner who wears fedoras and runs a vampire podcast and he single handedly kickstarts the plot of Prince lestat and causes the vampire government to happen bcus hes such a good activist he convinces all the characters to be better. Anyways wtf. Also I love sybelle she’s such a darling ❤️ Benji and sybelle and Armand’s little family is everything to me.

DENIS??? Wtf even was that. On a similar note Antoine. I love them both bcus they r incredibly interesting and rlly sad and they reveal so much evil about my fav characters anddd they both happened to be unforgivably butchered by the amc show ❤️

andddd last and also least haha kidding, Benedict ❤️. I feel so bad for him 😭but he’s also so real. Ben was the guy who Magnus manipulated and pretended to be friends with and then he chained him up and forced him to turn him into a vampire 😰. I love the concept where he was the first and only vampire to ever be “raped” by his fledgling, and I feel bad that all the other vampires treat him like shit for it 😭. He’s just a little guy. He’s such a pillow princess also. I can’t count all the times in Prince lestat where Bens described as lounging gracefully on the bed or whatever. Forever twink and hashtag loving it. What a dude

[hekateinhell]

Vamptember, Day 7: Reverse AU

adult vampire!Claudia and little mortal!Lestat | M | 1.3k | tags: abuse and SA mentions/references, gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

New Orleans, 1808

Winter in New Orleans makes the evenings draw on longer. 

Meaning that Claudia has to create her own entertainment lest she go mad with boredom; she takes what she wants and does as she pleases. 

How many other women can say that? 

Sitting in front of the vanity, turning her head from side-to-side, pondering which role best suits her temperament tonight.

Pity she had been a poor white’s daughter at her death, malnourished to the point of missing her menses at the mature age of twenty. Oh, how utterly brutal the beatings were when her father and brothers caught on and arrived at the wrong conclusion! 

Whore. Slut. Witch. 

Such a rabid pleasure to crush each of their skulls between her hands the night she’d returned to the dingy little shack by the river. A giggle escaping her at each agonizingly slow crack of bone, delighting in their futile struggles. Dark torrents of blood igniting the demonic thirst inside her, and finally, the gelatinous messes — more fun than mud pies — gushing as she digs her thumbs into their eye sockets. 

Eyes that had violated her long before their ever hands did. 

“Witch!” 

“And yet it’s you that shall burn at the stake tonight, father dearest! Fancy that!” 

She beams at her reflection at the memory, the blonde ringlets that cascade over her small breasts bouncing as she trembles with poorly suppressed anticipation. Not a wasteful eater, no, but she does enjoy playing with her food. 

Finishing touches, a robin’s blue ribbon in her hair, her corset cinched tight to create the hourglass figure she most certainly did not possess. 

Childbearing hips that would never bear onto her a child, the son that the Lord she once prayed to for deliverance had sent to her in her dreams. A promise that one day she would have final dominion over the male sex. 

Flesh of her flesh, blood of her blood. 

Holy Mary, mother of God.

It’s humid when she sets out, but then again, it’s always humid in New Orleans: a sinner’s city, a gambler’s paradise. Fragrant roses combine with the stench of urine and decay as she makes her way down the cobblestone streets, taking in the sounds of the night. A child cries, a man yells to his wife: You stupid bitch!; a horse and carriage trot by, the mud almost reaching her shoes; a drunkard’s piercing laugh. 

“Hey, pretty lady, what are you doing all by your lonesome? Don’t you know what happens to dainty little things like you in places like these?”

Sounds like a tramp but means well. He has two sisters at home; one older and one younger. Claudia reminds him of the youngest. 

“Oh, I didn’t know! I’m new to the area, you see, and terribly disoriented! I don’t mean to trouble you Sir, but it is awfully late and now I am awfully frightened… If you could please escort me to my home, I have been trying to find my way back for hours to no avail!” She knows what men like to hear.

She can be demure.

Helpless. 

“Of course, darling,” he proffers her his arm which she graciously accepts, “I know this city like the back of my own hand.” 

Perfect. 

A quick, satisfying break of his elbow and his knees soon follow before she takes her first drink of the night, the gambler’s luck running dry as his sweet blood runs down her throat. His heart pounding on her tongue, the glorious resistance she craves gradually fading. No, no! Fight me more, handsome. Fight me just as hard as I fought them! Alas, it is finished and Claudia pulls back, wiping her mouth on her lace glove. 

She stands in the shadows, still clutching the body, savoring the aftertaste. Not an evil soul, merely one made unfortunate by virtue of his sex, as she had once been.  

A hunter as shrewd as she, a woman who’d been raised to have the survival instincts of a prey animal in the jungle, shouldn’t have been caught off guard by sudden wailing so high-pitched, Claudia cringes into herself. Relentlessly loud and surely bound to attract attention!

The body hits the ground with a wet thud as another, much smaller body barrels into her skirts, clinging to her legs. 

Images flash through the child’s mind; he can’t be older than five. A brute of a father raising his fists. A mother cold and impassive, her nose in a book as her children wept for her affections, even her scolding lacked interest. “Quiet down, Lestat.” Blonde and beautiful yet gaunt — Claudia had she lived another ten years, perhaps. Lived the wretched life she was destined to have, like her mother before her and her mother before her. 

This woman doesn’t want her child, and the decision is made. 

“There, there,” she drops to her knees to embrace the boy. His hair tangled unkempt, a shade strikingly similar to hers. His face covered in dirt, the scrapes along his arms and legs still oozing blood. Delirious from terror, hunger, and exhaustion, and in the darkness, he thinks she is his mother.

Claudia swallows back her thirst. 

“I didn’t mean it!” he sobs as he presses himself flush to her chest, burrowing into her sharp collarbone. Tears, dirt, and mucus smear all over the cotton of her dress, her hardened skin. “I didn’t mean to run! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I want to go home! I’ll be good! I’ll listen, I promise!”

Yes, Claudia's decision has been made, but not here. 

“I know, dearest,” she lifts him off the ground and he settles momentarily, soft and warm. Pulls back to stare at her face, large grey eyes blinking at her. 

He touches her cheek, curious and gentle. Frowns. 

“Mama, you’re so cold.” 

There’s a second where she can feel his hummingbird heart quicken, little rosebud mouth pinching as he sniffles loudly, the tears gathered on his long lashes suspended as he holds her stare with intensity. But then it passes, and he rests his head on her shoulder.

“You need a blanket, Mama,” he sighs and drops his sticky fingers from her cheek, bringing his thumb to his mouth instead. She, too, had suckled her thumb until far too old an age. 

Back home, she cleanses his face.

He whines in his sleep, whimpering into her palm. Fragile and pitiful as the newborn kittens her brother Edgar had drowned to punish her. 

Her clothes are too big, and the doll’s clothes are too small. She cuts a nightgown three-quarters of the way short. The candle flickers and so does her confidence, but it’s too late now. His lifeblood flowing over her tongue, his little heart going and going, refusing to give up! Burst after vibrant burst, innocence devoured. 

Mama, Mama… I love you, Mama.

Claudia groans with it, the flavor of unrivaled purity unlike anything she's ever sampled before. She's never had to catch herself at the very edge of the precipice before; the shadow of a thought passes through her mind that perhaps she doesn't have to — she'll gorge herself on this one and find another to suit the same purpose: make for herself a son sculpted in her unholy image alone. 

But this precious heart! It still won't surrender! How can she trust that she will ever find another with not only the looks to match hers, but one that reflects back to her her own unbroken tenacity? 

“Mama’s here,” she tears open her bodice, exposing her breast, the dark blue vein at the underside. Makes the incision, guiding the child’s mouth to it. She will be Thetis reimagined in the spirit of the new age, submerging the baby Achilles in the River Styx to grant him immortal life, this time careful to fully saturate the heel.

The greedy thing latches quickly, reflexes of an infant still nestled in his subconscious as he takes all that Claudia has to offer.

It must be the male in him. 

“Mama’s here,” she repeats, stroking his hair, humming a long-forgotten lullaby.

Once, a poor woman’s only comfort to her daughter. Now, a little boy’s dirge.

“And you’ll be good for your Mama, won’t you, Lestat?”

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi. I'm about to watch S1 again and want to feel all the Loustat feelings for the first time all over again. Plus I love positivity ❤ So how would you describe what Loustat are to each other and what their love is like for each other and about their happy ending? :)))

Hey nonny!!

Oh have so much fun!!!

Hmmm, that is quite the deep question :) (Alright, sticking to positivity only then!! 😅)

I would say... in one word?

They are necessary to each other.

They don't really live without the other. They exist. They meet, and Lestat falls fatally in love and Louis... only realizes later how badly he's fallen. Louis is home to Lestat, he is the one all his journeys, all his thoughts always return to Louis. Louis is his conscience, his anchor, his companion, his lover. And Louis... worships Lestat. And he resents that quite a bit, but he admits to it later on *laughs*

They are two sides of the same coin, with their character journeys inverted. Louis is the one who knows what Lestat cannot say, Louis is the one who Lestat reaches for. Louis literally is the one to hold Lestat's hand. Louis is the one that even Akasha does not dare to touch. And Lestat... To Louis Lestat represents the freedom he would like to have, but that he just is not shaped for (totally apart from the show changes). Lestat is the wild fire, the level 8 hurricane, the black tar heroin :)) The one to (literally) challenge the heavens.

The one to finally, in the end, set up a place where they both get what they want, together. A place with lots of books, and sofas, and fires and stimulating company for Louis. A place with entertainment and variety for Lestat. A place that is so history laden it tethers Lestat, when nothing else could, and allows them to go on romantic little trips to Paris with each other, often.

Their love is one that has, when the books leave us, passed the test of time, has been reforged, and renewed. It's a helpless love, too big to address at times, and beyond the rational mind. It's what Lestat alludes to when he says they're connected.

Their hearts are beating in sync.

It's a love that is obvious, for everyone around them.

And I love how the show foreshadowed the dance in the end, the dance that is a statement, just as the already shown one was - one for the mortals surrounding them... and the other... for the vampires.

Only this time Lestat says it out loud, too.

But not before holding Louis for a moment, and then kissing him and telling him low in French that I loved him and always had.

Let me just close with this cute quote from The Vampire Lestat here, though Lestat cannot bring himself to say it out loud then. But it is this that enthralls them, because everytime they meet... this love is rekindled, renewed. With heat.

And I had always loved him, hadn't I, no matter what happened, and how strong could love grow if you had eternity to nourish it, and it took only these few moments in time to renew its momentum, its heat?

It's quite beautiful.

(And I, personally, adore their love, as difficult as it may be. But it's worth it.)

[free-for-all-fics]

Part 2 of my Modern Lioncourt Saga ft. Rockstar Lestat and you as his sister! Again, special thanks to @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit for the French and other additional dialogue! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of this and I’d love to read it! 🎸❤️🩸

Part 2: Gossip is a Girl’s Best Friend

Juliette spends the Lyft journey to your and Lestat’s place girding her loins for what she might find. You only sent her a vague text telling her that she looked like someone who could hang, so she should come over ASAP and bring her makeup bag with her, followed by a second text in all caps emphasizing to NOT forget the makeup bag, then a third text that was just a bunch of heart and kissy face emojis. Having worked for you and Lestat as long as she has, she knows that that text could either mean you want to celebrate something and are feeling giddy, or you “went overboard” as you like to call it, and now need her to make arrangements to dispose of a dead body or two that are hanging from the ceiling before the housekeeping comes in to clean up any other traces of your wild night. There’s a very real possibility it could be either a grumpy, monosyllabic you and/or Lestat answering the door covered head to toe in blood, eyes dilated from anger or lust, (That’s the problem with vampires; their pleasure and their wrath often look the same.) fangs poking out, or it could mean you and/or Lestat being drunk off your asses from drug- and alcohol-infused blood and melting into giggly messes as you let loose and abuse your vampire powers - the Cloud Gift to float, both literally and figuratively high as kites and bouncing off the walls, the Mind Gift to freeze time and puppeteer people, etc., all to pull crazy and stupid pranks for your entertainment. She’s been warned about when either of you are in one of your moods. She knows by now it’s almost always either a party or a massacre. The cacophonous sounds of loud rock music, indiscernible chatter, and laughter coming through the intercom as an unknown man, probably a security guard, comes on the screen only confirms what she already knows to be true.

“Do you have an appointment?”

Juliette leans over the driver so the guard can see her. “I’m Juliette, Mr. And Ms. Lioncourt’s PA. I just wanted to—”

“Employed by the Lioncourts or not, all visitors are required to make a reser—”

You shoo the guard away. “Get back to work! Go walk Mojo or something! What is it? Who are you? What do you want?” You press your face closer to get a better look. You can see it’s Juliette. “My god, you’ve gotten even fatter.” You almost smash the keypad as you buzz her into the house that’s more like a mansion, complete with a wrought iron gate that slowly opens, allowing Juliette’s Lyft to drive through. “Come in. Come, come.”

The cacophony of loud music blasting and nearly 200 guests, both vampire and human, chatting and yelling amongst themselves as they gorge themselves on food, alcohol, blood, drugs, and sex nearly makes your and Lestat’s house shake and vibrate. The lights, the colors, the sparkles and the glitter, the sounds, and the smells nearly make Juliette’s senses overwhelmed.

“Oh hey, babe!” You fling open the door and wrap your arms around her. Your corset, stockings, short skirt, and heeled boots combined with your jewelry, hair, and makeup make you look like a princess that’s a mix between the Rococo/Baroque period of France and 80’s gothic glam rock. Juliette’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling. This is…unexpected. Yet not. The house is heaving with people. A mess of half-dressed bodies bouncing to the music with the beauty of oiled-up professional dancers, some in drag while others are stripping. From the corner of her eye, Juliette can faintly catch a glimpse of people drinking blood and/or having sex in “private” rooms only sealed off by velvet curtains. Like a very debauched music video, all body glitter and taut torsos, the air is thick with the scent of weed, sweat, blood, and sex. It’s repulsive and intoxicating at the same time. Whatever the fuck is happening here, it’s about a whisper away from an orgy. Not that you or Lestat are morally against that. You and he could fuck them and then eat them. Neither of you would turn down dinner and a show.

You take Juliette by the hand and, together, you retreat from the crowd and the noise to the relative calm of your massive bedroom upstairs, complete with an in-suite bathroom and two spacious walk-in closets which, luckily, is separate from Lestat’s room. You’ve half-joked before that if you and your brother had to share a room, you’d probably fuck or murder each other in some drugged and sleep deprived delirium after consuming blood from intoxicated people.

“Sorry about the chaos and the mess. Lestat and I decided to throw a house party to celebrate the release of our new album and the end of our tour. Usually the After Party is enough but, since tonight is the last show, we really wanted to go all out before taking a break from touring to work on the next album and book. Go out with a bang, as they say. Except we’re taking it literally. Don’t worry, though. My and Lestat’s bedrooms are strictly off limits, so nobody has been in there except us and whoever we invite in. We’re safe in here for tonight, and then we’ll get our maids to clean up and spray down and disinfect everything with alcohol so that, by tomorrow morning, this place will be looking brand new.”

Juliette gives you a look like she doesn’t believe you.

“I’m serious! The floor will be so clean you’ll be able to eat off of it. Yum yum! Anyway, thanks for coming. I’m looking forward to you being there tonight. I know this was unexpected of us. Lestat and I are often unpredictable, so I really appreciate your flexibility. Do not get the wrong idea about this, though. We’re not like friends or anything.”

“Oh yeah, I know.”

“No. It’s just that you’ve cleaned up after Lestat’s and I’s bloody messes and covered up our murders so many times I was starting to feel bad. Like, I don’t know, I need to throw you a bone soon or it’s gonna be bad karma. Like my Porsche or house is gonna get swallowed up by a sinkhole or something. I don’t know. What are bad things that happen to people? Only good things happen to me because I do charitable work like this. Je suis une sainte. (I’m a saint.) So my actual friends are gonna be here at 11. I asked you to come early because I figured you were gonna come looking…like this…and we need plenty of time to do something about it. You know the last thing I need is for you to embarrass me in front of my friends with…this whole look.”

“We’re going through this again?”

“Yeah. So I wanted this to be a one-on-one thing so I didn’t call Lestat. Usually we do everything together but I wanted this to be one-on-one. But now that we are rockstars, have our own makeup brand and fashion magazine, and are writing our own books in response to Molloy’s trashy bestseller, we started off on a really high note and we want to keep riding that high. So before I accept you into my friend group, we really have to do something about your look.”

“I thought we weren’t friends?”

“Hush, babes. That’s why I called you over today. No offense or anything but we need to maintain a certain image. Before you buy anything, you have to consult with your friends just to make sure, you know, that we like the outfit because, sometimes, you might have tastes or you might like something that one of us doesn’t like and, if we don’t like what you’re wearing, we’re not gonna ask you to join us because we surround ourselves only with people that will obviously be bringing our reputations up, not dragging them through the mud. Like we have a really good name for ourselves so that’s what we do. We ask each other for advice and, if I can be totally honest with you, just keep this our little secret, but my and Lestat’s opinions are the ones that matter the most. Andy’s great. Tough Cookie’s…wonderful. And Larry is…Larry. But my and Lestat’s opinions are the ones you want down pat, okay? Because we pretty much made them who they are. Like, they weren’t anything before so we pretty much made them who they are today. D’ailleurs (by the way) where were you on Saturday?”

“I can’t remember.”

“What do you mean you can’t remember? Saturday? Hello? Weekend? You didn’t come to my party. Why is that?”

“Oh, I had a family dinner to attend.”

“Family dinner? How sweet. Dinners don’t run until like midnight, though, so where did you go after?”

“I went to the mall.”

“Uh huh.”

“My cousins came from out of state and I wanted to spend time with them before they went back home.”

“What do you mean you wanted to spend time with your cousins? Okay. You could’ve just brought them with you, you know. Are you coming with me to the After Party tonight?”

“I can’t come tonight. Sorry.”

“No? Why not?”

“I already made plans and have to get up early tomorrow.”

“For what? Clarinet practice or something? Qu’elle ingrate.” (She is so ungrateful.)

“I’ve got a date, so I ca—”

You cough in surprise and fan your face. “I’m sorry, I think the dry shampoo fumes are getting to me. Did you say a date? Oh my god. What a world we live in, like literally anything can happen. Kind of beautiful when you think about it. I didn’t even know you had a crush on anyone. So, spill, spill, spill.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Oh my god, it’s okay, you can tell me.”

“I’d rather not. It doesn’t seem appropriate. Since you’re like, my boss…”

“Why not? Because we’re not friends? Okay, well, I’ve just decided we’re friends now. So now that we’re besties officially, I hope you’re aware that if at any point, you do happen to develop a crush, no matter how small, you are legally obligated to inform me and your secret will be safe with me. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“But vampires can read minds, though…”

“Ugh. If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay. Fine. I have eight of them - wait no, seven. Why do you look so surprised?”

“I just…uh…thought it would be more, given your...” Juliette is too afraid to finish her sentence by saying “age.”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like trying to meet another vampire?”

“Um…”

“It’s totally impossible! There’s maybe only a hundred of us in the world at any given time and the majority of them are total dicks. Trying to increase the vampire population is a fool’s quest. You make one, and two go insane and kill themselves the same day. And there’s no vampires in this city, except for Lestat.”

“Ew.”

“I know. I thought about it. Il est beau. (He is good looking.)”

“Ewww!”

“Well, what am I gonna do?!”

“You’re gonna do your brother?!”

“NO! I just thought about it!” You huff and move your hair out of your face and behind your shoulder. “One of my crushes used to be Grace, but I forgot, last week, I overheard her tell Stephanie that she doesn’t think Sheila should be made to feel embarrassed or sent home for coming to work without makeup. Isn’t that insane? Like what is wrong with some people, seriously? It’s just the cavalier disregard for our employee appearance policy. So now Grace has been officially moved from my crush list to my hit list, which is…five people. Yeah. Five. I’m proud of myself for that. It used to be…fifty-three. It shrank so much - not because I killed those people or anything - but just because one of my new century’s resolutions was to forgive and forget. All of my enemies from the last century have been pardoned. Even Richard. That guy stuck gum in my hair because I didn’t wanna go to Phantasmagoria with him. That was a hard one to let go of, but I did it. I did it in the name of personal growth.”

“Very impressive.”

“Your turn. Who’s the lucky cutie?”

“Kevin—”

“Kevin? Are you serious? Like larper Kevin? Répugnant. (Gross.) Ugh, babes, are you actually trying to kill me? Anyone but larper Kevin…. Yesterday at lunch I saw him eating baked beans. What is that, like Shrek food? Répugnant. (Gross.) Oh my god. Girl, you are so out of his league. And I never thought those words would be coming out of my mouth but, Jesus, you can do so much better. “

“I don’t know, I like him…”

“But yeah, whatever. Heart wants what the heart wants, I guess. And your heart wants Mr. Dungeons and Dragons from the Renaissance Faire. Good for you. So here we are, I guess. Better any date than none. How did he ask you?”

“He left a little note in my locker. It was very sweet actually.”

“He left a note in your locker? Aww, is he like shy or something? That’s cute. Ou pas.” (Or not.)

“He’s going to meet me at the concert and we’re gonna go out to eat after, then we have a date tomorrow morning—”

“Aww, and where’s he taking you tomorrow?”

“Coffee and then Barnes and Noble. He said, ‘I’ll get you whichever book you want.’”

You snap your fingers. “Okay, work, Kevin’s got a little game. Make sure you pick out a fat hardback and a plushie. Barnes and Noble always has the best selection of plushies. I swear like half of my Squishable collection is from there. Be careful, though. Girls get crazy trying to grab the one they want. Nearly lost my life over a rainbow caterpillar one time. I came out on top though, of course.” You tap your nails together. “These nails are both fashionable and functional. Okay, I’m thrilled for you about this date but I do have some uh…concerns. Are you planning on stopping at home first to get ready?”

“No, I’m going to meet him as I am now.”

Your eyes widen and you suck in air, seething through your teeth as you try not to physically grimace. “Ummmm. Are you aware that you look like a crypt keeper or not?”

“Come on, it’s not that bad!”

“That’s what I thought! Here’s what’s going to happen: You’re gonna sit back and relax and I’m going to do the heavy lifting, the miracle working I’m so known and so loved for. I love makeovers. You’re gonna look so amazing by the end of it.” You pull Juliette by her hands to get her to move to a different chair next to your vanity mirror, where all your supplies are. You want to be able to get a proper look at her with your ring light.

“Oh my god, where to begin, where to begin? I guess the main emergency staring me right in the face right now are the creatures lurking above your eyeballs. Girl, what are these eyebrows? You have like a unibrow situation going on. Not pretty. Literally possum mode. C’est fou comme cette fille se moque de son apparence! (It’s crazy how this girl doesn’t care about her look!) Mmkay. Well, I could just fix your unibrow if you want.”

“My unibrow…? I don’t have—”

“Huh? Oh, I didn’t mean like you have a unibrow or anything, I’m just saying like, if you want, I could fix the situation happening between your eyebrows is what I meant.”

“Sure?”

“Okay, cool. So the first thing we’re going to do is definitely work on this situation right here because…you have really great eyebrows, but…they just need a bit of structure, you know? Let me just get rid of that for you. You don’t wanna look like a gorilla.” You start to shake your bottle of cleanser. “You’re not wearing any products on your eyebrows, are you?”

“Nope, don’t need to!”

“Yeah, thought so. But you never know.” You spray the cleanser on a makeup removal pad. “Maybe you’re lying to me like Armand, that crazy psycho skankaroodledoo...”

“What—?”

“But anyway. I’m gonna wipe around your eyebrows just in case you’re lying.”

“I’m not!”

“I know you’re not, but like…you know, just to be on the safe side. Wipe away debris and stuff, whatever. Okay. Come closer. You have such nice eyebrows, oh my god. I wish I had your eyebrows. Mine are such a mess. Just gonna remove that spot right there and see if you’re lying to me. I don’t think you are. Oh, look at that. Clean. You were telling the truth. That’s good. I guess I should start trusting you a little bit more but I have major trust issues because you know the things I’ve been through and like, you know me. Mais c’est la vie.” (But this is how life is.) Let me get in there with some tweezers. Luckily for you, these are industrial strength titanium limited edition 5770’s Rubis Switzerland. Yeah, I don’t think anything less would quite cut it. No need to worry, I am an eyebrow virtuoso. Everyone in the whole studio comes to me. I wouldn’t expect you to be quite clued in enough to be aware of that, but yeah. I am known internet-wide as ‘The Eyebrow Girl.’”

“The Eyebrow Girl?” Juliette tries not to laugh.

“Well, yeah and I think you can see why. Okay. So now I’m just gonna go ahead and shape your eyebrows, okay? Just hold still. Let’s get in there and get them in a more respectable shape. Let’s get in between there.”

“Ouch!!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, did that hurt you? Sorry, I don’t, like, know my own strength. If I’m hurting you, just let me know, okay? But like…try to handle your pain tolerance. Women aren’t wimps. Well, real women aren’t anyway. We can handle our pain. Right? So just hold still—”

"Sister, I'm back home!” Lestat’s voice is loud enough to be heard over the voices and music blasting from downstairs, even though he just came through the front door.

You don’t answer him back, focusing on Juliette.

“Sister!! Why aren't you here to greet me!? Where are you??" He yells, his voice more insistent and having an almost whiny tone to it.

"I'm upstairs," you groan in annoyance.

Lestat rushes upstairs, opening your bedroom door. He lurks in the doorway, pouting by the lack of attention he got from you, his precious, darling, baby sister. “Knock, knock! Hi, girls!”

“Lestat! Leave us alone! I’m trying to give my friend a makeover.”

“Oh parce que c’est ton amie maintenant?” (Oh, because she is your friend now?)

“Elle fait de son mieux et c’est important que je fasse attention à mon karma.” (She is doing her best and it’s important that I take care of my karma.)

“Ah je vois. C’est vrai qu’elle n’est ni jolie ni très intelligente… Tant mieux pour elle si tu t’intéresse à elle!” (Ah, I see. It’s true she isn’t pretty nor smart… good for her if you are interested in her!)

“Parfait, nous sommes d’accord. (Perfect, we agree.) Can you go now?”

“I just wanted to know if I could get you anything. Tu sais, comme je suis un frère aimant et attentionné… Pas comme tu peux l’être avec moi.” (You know, since I'm a caring and loving brother…not like you can be with me.)

“No, we don’t want anything, thank you. Bye.”

“Are you sure? Not even some champagne?”

“Bye.”

“Or some blood?”

“Bye!”

“Oh, but Sister—”

“Oh my god.”

“Anything at all—”

“Lestat. I swear, you’re like a child som— Wait… Is that my top?”

“No…”

“Lestat! I’ve been looking for that!”

“It’s yours?”

“That’s what I said! You just decided you were gonna borrow it without asking?”

“We’re siblings, we shouldn’t have to ask. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours. You can go into my stuff and borrow whatever you want at any time. What were you saving it for? You haven’t even worn it.”

“Because you took it from my closet without asking or telling me!”

“You weren’t going to wear it tonight though, so…let me borrow it. I’ve already been to the mall and it sucked!”

“Are you going to wear it to the concert tonight?”

“Yeah…’cause it’s a cute top— I just—wanted to borrow it…”

“Fine, whatever. Just give it back when you’re done.”

“Je t’aime?” (I love you?)

“Great. Bye.”

“Come on, Let me stay. We can play 'boyfriend/girlfriend' like we used to. This looks an awful lot like a slumber party and isn’t it a rule to always share the bed and play games at slumber parties?”

“If you really want to be here that much, are you going to help me with this? Or are you too pretty?”

Lestat pouts even more. “I’m too pretty.”

“Then why don’t you go bleach your mustache instead of being needy and annoying!?”

“You didn’t even say ‘I love you’ back. Tu es si méchante avec moi.” (You’re so mean to me.)

“Love you too.”

Lestat finally leaves.

“Mon dieu, he is so weird.”

“He really lov—” Juliette starts, but gets interrupted by you holding up a hand.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to be quiet for just a second ‘cause I don’t wanna accidentally over pluck and then you’re just gonna hate me. Can’t have that, sooo. Too many other people hate me. Well, at least I’m not Celeste. She thinks the whole world hates her ‘cause she hasn’t been invited to the Immortals’ Ball by Lestat or I.”

“The what?”

“You remember Celeste? She did your hair for you last time.”

“No, no, the part about the ball.”

“Oh, right. You don’t know what the Immortals’ Ball is. Okay, so now that we’re like friends or whatever, I’ve got to clue you in on all the current gossip. All the important happenings around here. Definitely can’t have you being around me and Lestat and oblivious. You might say the wrong thing to the wrong person and cause irreparable social damage but this should all stay between us, okay? Good. Like top secret. Highly classified information.”

“I won’t say a word, I promise.”

“So the Immortals’ Ball is the largest party of the year in the vampire community. It’s this really big, lavish affair. Lestat and I first began hosting it at our family castle in Auvergne in the early 19th century shortly after our transformations and the deaths of our remaining family members. Only the most elite vampires are invited. There’s a very strict social criteria you must meet to get an invitation. You must be ancient, rich, fashionable, influential, or famous. Anybody who’s anybody is there. The only humans in attendance either work for us, like you, or are food. Lestat and I did something similar in New Orleans with Louis and Claudia but we put a twist on it and, instead of vampires, we invited humans and gave boutonnières to whoever we picked to kill. We fasted for three days so the blood would taste all the more sweeter when we gorged ourselves. It was 18th century Baroque/Rococo themed. We dressed up all in white and had our wigs and makeup styled to perfection, there was a parade and Lestat was Raj, King of Mardi Gras, so we got to perform on a float, we hosted a masquerade ball… It was absolutely immaculate and decadent. It was just like the old days in Paris. C’était divin, mais les temps changent. (It was divine, but times/things change.) Everything was going perfectly. Well…until Lestat and I started choking and vomiting up blood. Claudia poisoned us. She and Louis slit our throats. Lestat and I bled out so much, we would’ve died if Louis hadn’t decided against burning us in the incinerator and stuffed us in old trunks instead. We survived by feeding on rats and other vermin in a landfill.”

“That’s quite mean… Who are they though?”

“Who’s Louis and Claudia? Claudia was like a daughter to Lestat and a niece to me. Louis was Lestat’s companion and lover, and he was a good friend. Whatever you do, don’t mention their names to Lestat, okay? Claudia…died, and Louis left. It’s still a painful subject for him, and Louis collaborating with Daniel to write that book of lies about us hasn’t done anything to help Lestat get over Claudia’s death or Louis’ leaving. It’s a story for another time. Leave the subject alone for now, okay?”

“Yes, of course. I won’t bring it up again unless you do.”

“Anyway, we started missing our old ways, right? So we are planning for this year’s ball. There’ll be music, costumes, Cirque du Soleil performers, seances, demon summonings, witchcraft... There’ll be this - well, hopefully if I can get one - this really big like ten foot blood fountain where everybody can, like, help themselves and I’m going to try to speak to Christine and see if she can get human celebrities. Cela sera l’évènement de la décennie!” (It will be the event of the decade!)

“Human celebrities? What for…?”

“I was kind of thinking we could just maybe lay them on the table and everybody could just help themselves but I think that would be a little bit tacky. So I thought maybe we could just suspend them from the ceiling and then people could have their photo taken with them and just have a little snack or something. But I’m not really sure which one I wanna go for. What do you think?”

“I’m not too sure. I’m not a party planner or event coordinator… But you were talking about Celeste, you know…”

“Oh yeah…I was telling you about Celeste. Celeste has been our stylist for centuries. She provides us with all of our beauty treatments. She has looked after us for many, many decades now. She has been coveting an invitation for our Immortals’ Ball ever since she graduated from the College of Undead Beauty. Unfortunately for her, it’s never going to come. She says it’s because we just keep forgetting her invitation, which is a lie, by the way. We totally do not. Nous n’oublions jamais rien. (We never forget about anything.) Lestat and I invited our nail tech last year and she’s still butthurt about that. Don’t get me wrong, while Lestat and I do our own hair and makeup most of the time, she still does amazing work. I can understand why she’s upset. It doesn’t seem fair that she’s the one providing all the glam, and all the niceties for all vampires that go and every single year she’s the one that stays behind. She must feel like Cinderella. She keeps saying her invite got lost in the mail, and I keep saying that it’s not personal, she just doesn’t fit the criteria we’ve put in place for guests.”

“It sounds personal though…”

“If it was personal, I’d bring it up to her how she’s just always been…too much of a people pleaser, if that makes sense. She’s always been obsessed with rising through the ranks of the vampire social hierarchy. Always willing to pull out hair, nails, and teeth - even her own - to get people like Lestat and I whatever we wanted. One time I sent her to Tommy Hilfiger’s daughter’s house to buy a dress off of her that I wanted. It looks better on me than it does on her. Celeste would often show her affection for Lestat or I by being at our side as much as possible and trying to say or do whatever she thought would keep her in our good graces. Once, when Lestat was very, very, very upset, he turned to Celeste and drained her of nearly all her blood during a sexual tryst. He then left her naked on his chaise to recuperate alone and considered it a kindness he didn’t just throw her out onto the curb.”

“Oh my god!”

“I don’t condone what he did, I just think it’s weird, the effect Lestat and I have on people - even other vampires. More recently, Celeste tried to get into the limousine with Lestat and I to go to an After Party after one of our concerts, but he pushed her out and slammed the door in her face. She had to get a ride separately from us. Oh my god, that reminds me, at that same After Party, Celeste was hitting on Lestat’s most recent human partner all night. Celeste has always liked Lestat, but usually he and I have people surrounding us, so she can’t make any moves and usually just lurks around, hoping to be called on by one of us for something. Lestat and I have had a revolving door of human lovers. Frivolous hookups and one night stands that never amount to anything. It’s just sex for me but, for Lestat, it’s rebound after rebound for him to try to get over Louis. But try as he might, Lestat hasn’t found anyone who’s come close to being Louis’ metaphorical twin. Anyway, Lestat went out for a smoke or something, giving Celeste the perfect opportunity to swoop in and hit on his boyfriend or girlfriend for that night. They fell for it hook, line, and sinker like humans always do. They ended up making out in the closet. Someone opened the door and got a picture catching them in the act, posted it to Snapchat, and now Lestat is out for blood, telling everyone Celeste has Herpes. Yikes. So now Celeste has been officially moved from Lestat’s guest list to his blacklist. Yeah, she’s not invited to our parties anymore. Once her job is done, we have a car pick her up and take her straight home. After suffering humiliation after humiliation, Celeste should hate us, yet here she is, still working for us and wanting us to like her. I still try to be nice to her to like, keep the peace or whatever, but I can’t exactly call her my friend. And the meaner Lestat is to her, the more Celeste tries to win Lestat back. It’s weird, right? Like totally desperate and sad. Pathétique même. (Pathetic even.) It’s like she thinks it’s better to be in our social circle, hating life than to not be in at all. I wish she’d get a grip already. Lestat’s 6’0, not Jesus. Anyway.”

“I kinda feel bad for her…”

“Ugh, don’t. You should tell me a secret now too or I won’t keep feeding you with all the vampire gossip. You know, friends are supposed to share stuff and, for the moment, I’m the only one—”

“I’m French.”

“What?”

“I’m French.”

“I thought you were Canadian?”

“Nope. French.”

“French Canadian?”

“Nope. French as in Parisian.”

“Oh. You’re from the motherland?”

“Yup. I was born and raised in France. I only recently moved to America.”

“So you understood…?”

“Yeah, je parle Français évidemment.” (Yeah, I speak French obviously.)

“Oh… you heard and understood Lestat and I the whole time and didn’t say anything. Well. Egg on our faces. Um. Well.” You clear your throat and carry on. You don’t admit you’re wrong or apologize, nor will you ever. Typical Lioncourt behavior. You just go back to gossiping.

“Marius got dumped by Bianca. He’s telling everyone he dumped her but he didn’t. She dropped him. They had been together for like 500 years, but Bianca overheard him pleading for Pandora, his ex-girlfriend, to leave her companion, Arjun, and run away with him and, when that didn’t work, he said he would leave Bianca if Pandora were to come back to him. Poor Bianca was so distraught by what Marius said, she just up and left, ignoring his protests that he was out of his mind when he offered to leave her. And to add insult to injury, Pandora still rejected him. This is like the third time he’s tried and failed to win her back. He knows it makes him look désespéré (desperate) to keep crawling back time and time again, but he’s obsessed with her. He definitely has a thing for younger women. He met her when she was ten and he was twenty-five and he asked her father for permission to marry her, but he refused.”

“Oh my god, that’s fucking nasty!!”

“Right!? Like I know it was like eons ago, like before 21 CE or whatever, but…yikes. Even Marius knows their breakups were his fault. I wish he’d just write a sad poem in his journal and move on already. He’s such a simp for Pandora and I just don’t get it. She’s pretty, but she’s not the Queen of the Damned.”

“Because the Queen of the Damned exists?!”

“Oh yeah, speaking of simps and the Queen of the Damned, that reminds me - there’s this other vampire, Thorne. He’s like a Viking warrior originally called Thornevald that was sent to slay a vampire-witch that had been killing villagers and stealing their eyes. Thorne found the vampire and learned that she had no eyes of her own, and must take eyes from her victims to see.”

“Wait what?!”

“Yeah and after a time, the mortal eyes wore out in her immortal body and she had to take another pair from one of her victims. And wouldn’t you know it? This vampire was Maharet, one of the most ancient vampires and twin sister of Mekare, the current reigning Queen of the Damned who took over after Akasha’s death so all vampires wouldn’t like explode into bloody bits on the spot. Something about an evil spirit cursing Akasha and making her the first vampire and the evil spirit inside her body being too much to contain but, with each new vampire she made, it decreased her bloodlust or weakened the evil spirit inside her and kept it dormant or something? So it’s like all vampires’ lives are connected like a web and if the Queen of the Damned dies without someone taking her place as host to this evil spirit, then all vampires just drop dead out of nowhere? I don’t know the full details on how it all works. Lestat spent much more time with Akasha than I did. He knew her intimately. And I mean that both ways. Anyway, Maharet didn’t slay Thorne but turned him into a vampire and kept him as her companion. Super weird flex, but okay. If it were me, I would’ve put him down centuries ago and just been done with him. He had major issues. Like he was weirdly jealous of Maharet's attention to the other vampires.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me of someone…” Juliette hums, thinking of the way Lestat can sometimes be with you.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing!”

“Anyways, if she would blow him off to hang out with other insanely gorgeous vampires, he’d be like, ‘why didn’t you call me back!?’ and Maharet would be like, ‘why are you so obsessed with me?’ and Thorne was so tilted by Maharet’s blasé attitude and malded so hard that he eventually left her and laid asleep for centuries in the ice of the far north in a self-induced pity party.”

“The melodramatics of men, I swear...”

“I know, right? It’s so embarrassing. Total incel energy. I don’t even- whatever. He was awakened from his moping when Marius made contact with him using the Mind Gift. Thorne journeyed south and found Marius in a large city near the Arctic Circle. Marius said he enjoyed it there as the noonday darkness ‘allowed him to live more like a normal person.’

“A normal person??”

“I think he was just too heartbroken and embarrassed to show his face to anyone after the Bianca and Pandora thing, but was lonely and wanted someone to talk to. Marius thought he and Thorne could relate to each other and bond over their ‘girl troubles’ or ‘doomed love lives,” you used air quotes. “So he took him to his home but discovered that Thorne still harbored a jealous rage for Maharet, which…”

“I take it Marius wasn’t impressed with him at all?”

“…Duh. Like no shit, Sherlock. Anybody could see that. Like I said, major issues we don’t have the time to unpack, so let’s just throw the whole suitcase away. Marius knew that Maharet could easily destroy Thorne if he tried to fight her, so Marius tried to dissuade him from his suicidal obsession. Thorne listened to Marius's account of his life and what he learned as a vampire. He was particularly interested in the story of the brutal attack on Marius by the vampire Santino and his Satanic cult of followers. Santino and his cult burned Marius in his house and kidnapped his apprentice, Armand.”

“Armand? Oh my god, I thought there weren't that many vampires!?”

“Armand is… Ugh. Girl, don’t even get me started. Seriously, we don’t have time for me to explain it all right now, and he’s his own can of worms. It’d take me an entire day to even begin to scratch the surface of explaining who Armand is to you. He’s such a hot mess. He couldn’t even decide what name he wanted to go by. Andrei, Arun, Amadeo, Armand… like dude, just pick one and stick to it! We had a couple of different like really horrible things happen to us because of this vampire…Armand. Yeah, he broke the cycle for a bit. Totally made it…just awful. Like it was such an awful, awful period of time for us. All I can say about him for now is that he fucked up Lestat real bad. I can’t even begin to get into how much Armand broke him, but to give you an idea of what he’s like, I’ll just say this: No one has been able to make Lestat cry the way Armand made Lestat cry. And that's saying something because our abusive father and older brothers and Magnus came before Armand, but the other tortures Lestat and I endured were...brief. We ran away from home, the abuse from our father and brothers stopped. Magnus died and that abuse stopped too. No one in vampiric history has matched Armand's level of crazy. Armand is a petty and spiteful little bitch who, instead of moving the fuck on, has decided to dedicate the rest of his immortal existence to torturing Lestat. It has become his favorite pastime.”

“This is so terrible! I’m sorry you went through this… Kinda explains a lot too. But why did Armand hate Lestat that much?”

“Why? Because Lestat grew bored of the Theatre Des Vampires and left him. Seriously. That’s it. He chose himself and me over Armand, and we left France together and went to New Orleans because our father was there and we took care of him until he died. Armand didn’t like not being the center of Lestat’s universe. He couldn’t reconcile with the fact that Lestat was the center of Lestat’s universe. You know that saying, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? Even scorned women would look at Armand and tell him to take a dirt nap and chill the fuck out. Everything about Armand just messes with a person's mind. It's the way he's not even chasing Lestat around that gets to us. He’s really out in the world somewhere like, ‘I'm old enough to be your biggest problem by staying in the same spot for five centuries.’ He’s like a leech or a cockroach that refuses to die and won’t leave us alone. So Lestat and I keep him under total…like, he’s under our eyes at all times. We cannot have him mess with us. He gaslights, he gatekeeps… Even Marius abandoned him after determining he was a lost cause. I think he was afraid of the monster he had created. All that trauma and abuse and brainwashing and memory loss… No amount of therapy can fix him. So we’re very hesitant about him. We don’t trust him at all. And we’re not even talking badly about him anyway, it’s just facts. He can’t be trusted. But we wanna keep a close eye on him just in case.”

“Okay, that’s an odd choice. I wouldn’t do that at all.”

“Hello? First rule of war: Friends close, enemies closer. Back to what I was saying before, at the end of the tale, Thorne questioned Marius why he hadn’t taken revenge on Santino and offered to help kill him. Marius explained that Maharet now ruled the vampires as regent for her mute sister, Mekare, and Maharet forbade it. Marius pleaded with Thorne to forget the past and talk of revenge, but Thorne still insisted on Marius taking him to see Maharet. Marius reluctantly agreed and the pair were mysteriously whisked away. They awoke in a jungle location, where Maharet lived in seclusion with her sister, the new Queen of the Damned. Several other vampires were present, including Pandora, Armand, and Santino.”

“Tell me you’re making everything up… It’d make a great telenovela.”

“You have no idea. Anyways, after a brief, bitter back and forth between all these crusty vampires with clashing personalities that contained varying levels of toxicity, Marius admitted that he still wanted to kill Santino. But he wouldn’t because Maharet forbade it, and Marius believed that for Maharet's rule over the vampires to be valid, all vampires had to obey her. It had to be unanimous. The joys of political meetings between vampires. Ugh. But Thorne had absolutely zero chill and abruptly killed Santino himself and then attacked Maharet in a jealous rage. Mekare came to her sister's aid and easily pulled Thorne away because his strength compared to theirs was like that of a newborn baby. Thorne, knowing he fucked around and was about to find out, whispered a request to the mute Queen as they struggled and she complied. Mekare removed Thorne's eyes from their sockets and handed them to Maharet. Maharet accepted the gift and bound Thorne with ropes made of her hair. Lestat likes to make bondage jokes about it, how it’s ‘kinky’ and he’s ‘totally been there before’, but I think it’s just so gross and unhygienic. It’s the only material strong enough to hold a vampire, I guess, but I hope she uses shampoo and conditioner. I’ll send her some of the hair products from Bloodlust for free if she wants me to.”

“Wait, wait, wait… How can it be the strongest material…? I… what?”

“It reminds me of people I see on TikTok that propose with ‘rings’ made out of their greasy, unwashed hair that’s probably riddled with dandruff or lice. Disgusting. Fans ask Lestat and I for locks of our hair all the time and it’s whatever since it grows back in seconds for us. It’s a nice little side hustle we got going on. It’s crazy how much people are willing to spend on a small lock of our hair. Franz Liszt actually gave us the idea when he told us he used to send locks of his hair to women, but started sending dog hair to admirers instead when he got tired of doing it. So now we send dog hair to people we don’t like, and they’re none the wiser because the dog hair is always similar in color and texture to our hair.”

“Did you say you have dog hair?” Juliette asks with a raised eyebrow and you pretend you don’t hear her.

“What was I saying? Oh yeah. So Thorne is Maharet's eternal prisoner now. She treats him like a pet but, last I heard, he’s happy knowing that the object of his obsession will always be near him and that her new eyes will last her forever. To each their own, I guess, but, in my opinion, he’s so delulu it’s kind of sad.”

“I never imagined things could be like that. Gosh, I’m glad I’m not a vampire.”

You catch something, or rather, someone out of the corner of your eye from the open doorway. Lestat is awful about closing the door behind him whenever he leaves. Your eyes squint in suspicion. “Don’t move. It’s that Lioncourt wannabe clone watching me. Technically she’s my new Personal Shopper. Faker. Poser. Seriously, she's been copying my outfits all week. I can't take it any longer. I swear I’m gonna snap. I swear I’m gonna snap. You can’t - you’ve gotta like - yeah.”

“I’d be grateful if I didn’t have to stop you from hurting her though… I’ve cleaned up enough blood this week already.”

“She’s supposed to be bargaining and compromising with other celebrities, basically buying them off because they have stuff I want, but instead she’s been copying the way I do my makeup, the way I do my hair, all of my outfits…except hers are knockoffs because she can’t ever hope to afford the genuine articles in her natural lifetime, but still, I’m— I can’t, I can’t. Well, you know how Lestat and I get most of our clothes custom-made? Well, sometimes he likes to buy lots of outfits for us from designer collections, and occasionally there’s a 2 for 1 sale and he buys double the clothes because there’s two of us and we play around with gender a lot in our looks, kind of exploring our femininity and masculinity, challenging the constraints of both, whatever.”

“Oh yeah, fuck genders. Androgyny is fun too.”

“Yeah, that’s the word - androgyny. Androgynous. Yeah, like David Bowie.”

“Was he the one who first inspired you and Lestat?”

“Actually, no. He is an inspiration to us, but he wasn’t our first. It was our mother.”

“Your mother?”

“Yeah, our mother, Gabrielle. After her transformation, Lestat procured for her an extravagant dress to replace the one she died in since it was covered in blood and excrement stains, but then she killed a man and took his clothing for herself, discarding the dress. She only wore dresses on rare occasions after that, and she did it only to please Lestat.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she called him her phallus and lived her life through him before we parted ways from her.”

“With all due respect, this is really fucked up. And I didn’t know Lestat turned your mother…?”

“Didn’t I mention that Lestat turned our mother before he turned me? Whoops. Well, now you know.”

“Is she still, well, not alive, but…around?”

“Yeah, she’s still around. She’s in Egypt now, I think. Yeah.”

“That’s cool, I guess? What is she like? What does she look like?”

“Best way I can describe her in a way that’ll make sense to you is, imagine Lestat if he was female. Yeah, she has cobalt blue eyes and long yellow-blonde curly hair just like Lestat’s, but her features are smaller, more kittenish. She tried to cut her hair short when she was first made.”

“She did? Was it very long?”

“Yeah, she tried to just chop it all off into a blunt bob, but it grew back to its original length the next night. She was shaken and horrified. She’d tuck her hair beneath a cap. Yeah, she’s…what’s the word? Transgender? Transmasculine? Lestat and I haven’t seen her since saying goodbye to her and parting ways in Egypt, but her candor and comportment was that of a man. Her girlish and kittenish facial traits kept her from carrying off the ruse successfully, though.”

“I hope she is doing okay… What are you looking at? Oh. the Lioncourt wannabe.”

“But this girl…she does not have to choose my Outfit Of The Day the day I’m wearing it, right? Like, that’s just messed up. Whatever.”

“Take a deep breath, please.”

“Anyway, Okay. Calm. Oh no. She’s coming over here. Just don’t make eye contact. Just…”

“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe it’s you! It’s been so long! Where have you been?”

“Uh, hello?”

“Seriously. Oh my gosh, did you hear what just happened?”

“Can’t you see that this is my bedroom and that I’m doing something? C’est incroyable comme les gens ne connaissent plus le respect ni la politesse de nos jours.” (It’s crazy how people don’t know respect nor politeness nowadays.)

“Oh, I’m sorry! The door was open so I thought… I just… What are you doing exactly?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I was just wondering if you or your friend wanted help.”

“Well, Juliette came to me for help.” You emphasize Juliette’s name, making a subtle dig at the wannabe for obviously not knowing it yet being bold enough to come into your bedroom uninvited to share some nonsense gossip that was probably made up, just so she can pretend Juliette is her friend and get closer to you. The things humans do to feel important… You’re not having it. “So…you can just mosey on over. Like…leave. Turn around. Go.”

She doesn’t leave. She just hovers.

“I said go away. What do you want? You’re ruining the vibrations here. You’re ruining my energy. I feel some negativity coming from my friend, Juliette.” You emphasize the possessive adjective. “She’s clearly a little bit…you know…in need of some quiet time. So I think it’s best if you leave. Could you just like…” you wave her away with your hand like she’s a gnat in your eye.

“Fine. Whatever. Bye.” She leaves. She’s so fake she’s more exhausting to be around and deal with than Lestat.

‘‘K, bye bye!” You give a fake smile that immediately drops as you turn to Juliette to talk shit. You inhale deeply and seethe under your breath so only she can hear, “I hate her. Don’t like her one bit. Hm. I know what she’s up to. She’s looking for Lestat. Oh, that makes me so mad. It kinda creeps me out too, like, if she’s gonna try to seduce my brother, she shouldn’t dress up like me, you know? I try not to think about it or read her thoughts at all. I’d rather not know what’s going through her head when she does what she does or says what she says. It just gives me the heebie-jeebies when I think of her around Lestat. Where is he? I gotta go find him in a minute.”

“The heebie-jeebies?”

“Is that not what Americans say?”

“Sometimes, but most kids are calling it the ick now. She gives you the ick.”

“Oh. I’m not caught up on all the internet lingo yet. This is good. You’ll have to teach me more. Yeah, she gives me the ick.”

“You really worry about your brother, don’t you? I don’t think he’d be interested in a girl like her anyways.”

Not wanting any more interruptions, you get up to close your door and lock it. You go back to what you were doing and put your finger and thumb into L shapes as you lean back and check your work on Juliette’s eyebrows.

“Don’t move. I’m gonna check something. They look even. Just gonna make sure. So? All right, step back for me. That’s better. You look better.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s good.”

“You guess? Y/N Lioncourt, she’s done it again. I’m such a saint for this. You are looking better already. Now for your makeup. Did you bring your makeup bag like I told you to?”

“Oui.”

“Good girl. Hand it over. Wow, this is really ugly. Do you like, like this pattern? Do you think this is cute?”

“It’s very practical, that’s why I bought it.”

“You just grabbed whatever? Weird. Okay…is this…drugstore makeup?”

“Well, yeah… I don’t do my makeup that often and the products seemed good enough.”

“Mhm. BB cream, what the fuck? Clear mascara? Do you even have like any lip products in here? Blistex? You’re gonna give me an aneurysm. Okaaaay, babes… You should feel really honored because I never do this - not even for my besties - but I’m gonna use my personal makeup on you.”

“But…”

“Yeah, this stuff you brought? Perfect for like the middle school dance but, for our purposes, it’s not gonna cut it. Your makeup bag is going in the garbage disposal. Here’s mine. Cute, right? Yeah, I chose it for a reason. Let’s keep it light, keep it cute, nothing too crazy. Let me see how the texture of your skin is doing because, girl, last time, it was crazy. It’s like a popcorn ceiling in here. I’ve got just the thing, though. Yeah, I’ve got a primer that can like shellac that right up. This is called Celestial, which is quite fitting. The miracles this stuff works really are mystical in nature. I’m gonna spread that over your chin and cheeks.”

“Okay, maman.” (mom)

“Perfect.”

“And then?”

“What’s next? Some concealer for those eye bags definitely. Let’s put a bit of concealer just under your eyes because you look a little tired and that’s not good. Girl, what were you up to last night? Your shift at the watch tower or something? Jesus.”

“Yep, didn’t sleep a lot. Like maybe two hours. I really didn’t want to get up this evening but you called…”

“You only got two hours of sleep last night? That explains it. What’s that about?”

“What are you doing?”

“I want you to look like you’ve been well rested and you’re ready to eat the heart of a man in like under five seconds only if I ask you to. You know what I mean? You need to get yourself some bubble bath liquid. A lavender spray for your pillow, some sleepy time tea, a silk eye mask and a meditation audio layered with rain sounds. Write that down.”

“Write it down?”

“Yeah, write it down, write it down. Yeah, I call it the princess secret formula to beauty rest. You’re welcome. Literally more priceless than the mathematical formulas for the moon landing.”

“I’m so not buying a lavender spray though.”

“Let me put just like the touch of shadow on your lid and you’re good because you got mascara on already, that’s good. You took my advice about mascara, that’s good. Waterproof mascara, of course, in case it all goes to shit.”

“Yep, hate the emo black stains of mascara on my face.”

“Very smart. I’m glad that you wore that. Good. Let’s see which eyeshadow colors would suit you. Yeah, let’s start with a rusty shade. Then the bronze in the middle. Then highlight the center. A touch more at the outer corners, okay. Pretty. I deserve a Nobel Prize for this literally. Now it’s time for blush. Oh, this color is perfect on you, oh my god. You know, take it from me, men love blush. You gotta really pack it on.”

“We’re not in the 18th century, though.”

“Rococo and Baroque is making something of a comeback, though. Goths love the 18th century. Really bringing those old trends back and putting a modern spin on them. Now for the lips. All that’s left is the gloss. The finishing touch. The cherry on top of the sundae. But I really don’t like that lipgloss color on you so I’m just gonna wipe that off, okay? And you can use mine. Wipe that right off because you do not suit that color whatsoever.”

“You mean that the color doesn’t suit me, right?”

“You can use mine. It still works. Let’s see, what do I have here?” You look down for a second and when you look back up at Juliette and what she’s holding in her hand, you gasp. “Put down the Blistex or I’m calling the cops! I swear to God. We’re doing Buxom Ultra Plumping Gloss, obviously. I think this shade of pink is gonna suit you really well. You don’t have any like Herpes simplex or anything, do you?”

“Nope!”

“Okay, that’s fine, I’m just asking because I got like ten other ones of these but if you got like some kind of oral issue, um, I can just give this to you. Okay, pout for me, babe. Some more. It’s gonna take a lot more gloss than that for these little lips. Cute. Your face is looking gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. If Kevin follows you on Insta, we should take some pictures when I’m done. He’ll definitely slide in.”

“Oh, I’m not a big fan of social media! I only use them for you but, yeah, I don’t really care about it.”

“You don’t use your personal Instagram? Okay. Well. I guess you can send them to him on Discord.” You immediately cringe as soon as the last word comes out of your mouth. “Ugh. No. Give me your phone.”

“MY phone?”

“Yeah, hand it over.” Your nails start clicking against the screen as you tap away on the phone. “Okay, let me feed your algorithm a little bit. Clearly you are not getting the inspiration that you need to be getting. What’s going on in your Instagram? Oh. Nothing good. Looks like you follow a lot of bird watching accounts. Dungeons and Dragons? Geocaching? Sudoku influencers? What the hell? Let’s get you following some baddies who can hopefully influence you in a more positive direction. Zendaya, Tori and Electra, Ice Spice, Kylie Jenner, Dua Lipa, Margot Robbie… and let’s like some cute posts. There. It’s like I’ve just enrolled you in the baddie academy. You’re welcome.”

“... Thank you then?”

“And then unfortunately it looks like your hair is back to looking like a rat’s nest since I last fixed it for you. Luckily I would not be caught dead without a hairbrush and some oils. So let’s get to fixing this. Hologram hair serum. Two pumps of that. Start working that through your ends. Don’t want to bring it too close to the top or else your hair will just look greasy. But the ends we’ll just make sure look nice and healthy. Then brush it out. That hair oil smells amazing. You’re so lucky to have me. Have you seen Sophie’s hair today?”

“Hmm no, what about it?”

“Ugh. Gruesome at-home dye job. The pipe dream of white-blonde in one night has claimed yet another helpless victim. She clearly didn’t use a high enough volume so there’s like these awful orange patches that she tried to save with toner that she left on way too long so there’s also huge patches of purple. God. My money is on her showing up tomorrow with it dyed completely black. Kind of the only next step besides a buzz cut unfortunately. I think she’ll be fine though. She’ll pull it off well. I always thought black hair would suit her. In a crazy twist of fate she just might come out of this fiasco on top. And…Voila! Your look is done - except for the outfit.”

“I’m comfy in these clothes though… Perhaps you could tell me some more of that vampire gossip. I need a break.”

“Fine. Let me think. What else, what else, what else? Oh, and then there’s Sybelle and Ella’s situation. They were born in like the late 1970’s and changed in the late 1990’s or early 2000’s. Yeah so they’re like really young in both human years and vampire years. They’ve been inseparable besties since like pre-k. Though the situation was…messy. They lost touch for like ten years because Sybelle was held captive in her luxurious home by her abusive older brother who regularly beat her after they were orphaned when their parents were killed in a car accident. He kidnapped Benji as a companion to keep Sybelle stable while she financially supported them with her concert performances.”

“This is crazy!!”

“When the abuse culminated to Sybelle's brother about to kill her, Armand killed him, thus freeing Sybelle and Benji from further fear for their lives. Last I heard about Benji, he was living in Trinity Gate in New York and created a podcast that is broadcast to all the vampires around the world.”

“Do people know he is a vampire??”

“Yeah, he’s known as the “official voice of the vampires” through this podcast thanks to Lestat and yours truly. I think you can listen to it on Spotify. Sybelle and Ella eventually reconnected and their friendship was still going strong, even after Marius changed them and brought them both into the blood. Everything was fine for like 25 years, but they’re beefing right now.”

“I’m not too surprised after everything you told me about vampires.”

“They’re both frozen at like 18-20 years old so…high school mentality. You know how we’ve been looking for instrumentalists for our upcoming symphonic album? Well, they both desperately wanted to be in the orchestra and auditioned. And Sybelle got a spot and was chosen for the solo. No surprises there, like everyone knows Sybelle’s the better musician by a long shot. But Ella is delusional about that. She thinks it’s so unfair and accused Sybelle of seducing Marius and Lestat into giving her the solo. So crazy. Like, Ella, girl, I get that you’re disappointed but you can’t read sheet music to save your life and…you have butter fingers. Just chill out, support your bestie, no need to get nasty about it. Sit down and cross your fingers for an acting gig in our music videos next year.”

“It’s kinda funny how all the drama starts with you and Lestat.”

“But it doesn’t end there. Sybelle always comes to dances and special events in the most spectacular handmade gowns, but she always keeps them a secret from everyone until she finally shows up wearing them. Last weekend at the party you skipped for window shopping with your cousins at the mall, she showed up wearing the dress she made for the upcoming symphonic orchestra performance and posted pictures to her Instagram story. Ella, who didn’t attend the party and who Sybelle had told she was at a sleepover, saw it and now the dress that she was preparing for the symphonic concert and album recording has been irreparably damaged. I mean like covered in pig’s blood and torn to shreds. Needless to say, Sybelle was devastated, like nearly inconsolable. She bought thirteen yards of fabric, crinoline, boning, and Swarovski crystals to make that dress. She sewed each panel of the skirt one by one. Just hand painting the flowers in the skirt took about five days. It took Sybelle about a month to make the dress, from design to creation. And now it’s all been flushed down the toilet because Ella was having a colossal temper tantrum.”

“But you’re sure it’s Ella?”

“Ella hasn’t confessed, in fact, she’s denied it up and down, but Sybelle is convinced it was her doing. Like what else could it have possibly been? No way a wild animal got in. Now Sybelle has sworn she’s not talking to Ella for the rest of the year, if ever. She isn’t of a mind to forgive and forget. One crime of passion and their friendship has blown up. Tragic. Fingers crossed Ella will have a change of heart and get over herself and her feelings of jealousy and insecurity and apologize and Sybelle will find another dress in time. Even Lestat and I have personally reached out to Sybelle and offered to help. Money, materials, emotional support, whatever she needs, it’s hers. We’re even willing to push back the date of the recording session because we don’t want her to drop out because of this incident. We truly want her there and to not get to witness her performance or one of her handmade outfits would be truly devastating.”

“Yeah, you really care about outfits, don’t you.”

“As for your outfit…”

“Fuck. Me.”

“Who made you think this was okay? Your outfit is weak. You look like you’re dressed for jury duty or church.”

“Well, yeah… It’s Sunday.”

“You came right here from church? Ew. What do you do? Sing in the choir or something? Okay. Well, I’m sure your vocals are better than Larry’s. He was the lead vocalist before Lestat came along and, well…Lestat and I secretly call him Lackluster Larry for a reason. Don’t tell Larry or Lestat I told you that. Friends keep secrets, remember? It’s like girl code.”

“I’d die with your secrets… Don’t kill me.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot really help you with your outfit as far as your date tomorrow. Ummm… Try to maybe like make his glasses fall off his face and then ‘accidentally’ step on them?” You use finger quotes. “That way, to him, your upsetting fit will be turned into a…tolerable blur.”

“Don’t be mean now.”

“For tonight, I’ll come to your rescue yet again. You are about to enjoy the esteemed privilege of borrowing one of my outfits. Do not take it lightly. You have to make sure you have perfect posture for the rest of the night or else you’re gonna stretch it out, ok?”

“...I don’t think I have the choice anyways…”

“Ok. I picked out this top for you. It’s the same one I’m wearing but in white. Yeah, I think that’s gonna work well for you. And then these jeans. Like a light blue. They’re faded in all the right places and they’ve got these rips. Pretty stylish.”

“Meh.”

“You don’t like the rips? Ok, grandma, why not? They remind you of the Great Depression or something? Put them on.” You throw them at Juliette and they nearly hit her in the face as she grabs them and holds them to her chest so they don’t fall to the floor.

“Can I at least go change in a room or a bathroom?”

“Yeah, bathroom’s over there.” You point and go back to your phone. When Juliette comes back out wearing the outfit you personally picked out for her, you clap excitedly.

“Yeah, you’re looking pretty cute. Let’s see if you can act the part. We’re gonna work on some flirting techniques. Show me your best seductive pose. Give me a soft serve. It’s giving gollum. Very much ‘my precious!’. Let’s try softening the face. Relax. Drop it down. Especially the eyelids, drop the eyelids down a bit and then bring one eyebrow up a touch, okay? A little less than that, a little less than that. That’s good. Slight smile. Slight. Perfect. Show me a bit of jaw like tilt your head to the side then bring the shoulder forward like that. And let me push that shoulder back. And it’s in the hips too, you wanna tilt the hips with the shoulders, so bring this hip forward, this hip back, then tilt your face down and look up at me from there. There it is. Yes, girl! There we go. Oh, can’t forget the perfume. A splash of this will get you smelling irresistible. You’ve had a Mountain Dew fragrance for Kevin’s sake, but he’ll have to settle for Versace. I think you’re ready. I think you’re ready. Oh oui, tu es prête! (Oh yes, you’re ready!) Good luck, babes. Can’t wait to hear all about it! Et surtout ne me remercie pas, les amies sont là pour ça!” (And do not thank me, friends are here for that kind of thing!)

[emofujoshi]

HEYYYY IM SNAKESANDRABBITS!!! okay first off I just wanna say that you’re an amazing fucking writer and I love every single chapter of your fic, it’s truly fucking amazing. You have a great and entertaining characterization of Lestat and Louis and you capture their personalities perfectly!!!! secondly I just wanna say that I hope you’re doing well❤️❤️❤️❤️

hey!!! so happy to see you here! thank you so much as always for your lovely words 🥰 i’m doing great today, it’s been full of love and i’m so grateful. i hope you’re doing amazing! 🩷

[the-brat-prince-1760]

Hey, just wanted to let you know you just totally made my day. Thank you, I needed that 💝

Lestat here.

I am thrilled I have made your day, adoring fanq! Remember that I am always here for your entertainment, and I can be there for you at your request if need be! ❤️

Lestat out. xoxo

[monstersinthecosmos]

BLOWS THE DUST OFF, TAPS THE MIC, HEY IS THIS THING STILL ON

just wanted to stop by and say that the last few days my heart has been completely pulverized by this Armand moment in The Vampire Lestat:

"And at the same moment he seemed a child imploring me, and in that struggle lay his essence, parent and child, pleading with me to listen to what he had to say."

I know we’ve all discussed several hundred times the dichotomy of Armand’s appearance vs his personality/behavior but this really just came for my throat, the way it’s worded here. 

pleading with me to listen to what he had to say

Just, how many times are children diminished and not taken seriously by a parent when they have valid problems and how many teens just suffer needlessly because of selfish adults who won't help them?

Armand was raised by this exact type of person who was very reluctant to ever entertain any of Armand's emotional needs if they didn't fit the correct behavior he was supposed to be performing. Marius never takes Armand seriously and only wants him sort of ~seen but not heard~, even bullies him when he can't control his emotions. Marius's response to Armand's emotional needs isn't to take him seriously and find productive solutions but to berate him and diminish him.

This version of Armand is so fucking raw and wounded and slipping in between roles he’s trying to play, PARENT AND CHILD, having lead the coven for all these years without people questioning him and yet falling back into this familiar discomfort when he can’t figure out how to express himself in a way that will make someone take him seriously. 

SO ANYWAY it's just, super great, how, Armand is stuck as the cutie lil 17 year old forever with his big imploring eyes and baby fat in his lil cheeks so that people constantly come into his life throughout  eternity and think they can be condescending to him because he looks like a child BUT HIS FEELINGS ARE VALID AND ALWAYS WERE  listen fuckin Jerkoff Main Characters in VC please show my son some fucking respect.

Every time I reread TVL it’s such a wild ride because when I am AWAY FROM LESTAT I am quite confident in how much I dislike him and don’t buy into his bullshit LOL but when I READ his books I’m like IN IT AND VIBING AND I GET HIM, but I love reaching the Armand area of the book because you finally get this context into how Lestat actually treats other people WHICH IS POORLY LOL and I get to start disliking him again because I hate how he treats baby. Like, Armand is being SO fucking brave when they have that talk, he really does show up and talk about his feelings and reveals his vulnerability only for Lestat to be like “lmao riveting, tell me more about your Maker” 

(I mean it goes without saying that they all behave poorly and treat each other badly so similar screaming rants are on reserve to excuse Lestat as well but that’s not my job he is not my problem)

[selchwife]

ive been really stressed out about moon knight bc of the whole “oh god everyones going to think im a circus animal” thing and i really have no logical way to express it bc it’s not a logical feeling. the show itself, from what ive heard people say, isn’t too bad in its presentation of DID, it’s just (necessarily) pretty dramatized for television, so it’s not necessarily a “bad representation” concern; i just get really upset about how people talk about the central character. 

and THIS is kind of where it gets weird, because i get really upset at people, like....treating the alters as separate people or individuals? which, like...i mean, logically you would even knowing they all comprise one person collectively. this is how the people i trust with that information treat my parts (depending on context), and i have no issue with THAT, but seeing people, like, pick favorites of the guy’s parts in the show or say “THIS part is boring i want more of the OTHER one!” is...maybe that’s more my issue, because i think of how i would feel if people were like, “LESTAT is boring, i want to see more of [REDACTED]!” like....hey, i’m not a rolodex of guys for you to pick favorites from.....

i guess it’s like, knowing that it’s so complicated and how it feels to BE so fractured, it bothers me to see people pick and choose which parts of the guy they like and toss out the rest like it’s, you know, choosing who you like in a group of people. that’s all one person, you can’t...do that. like, i know it’s fictional and it’s different when you’re choosing between fictional alters, but like...idk i would be really hurt if someone was like “i like [REDACTED] better than you” or “i hate [REDACTED] he’s annoying i only want to talk to you” like, he IS me, you’re missing the point. and then of course all the really annoying “two for one hot guy XD” shit i saw in the tag a while back like....oh my god i could really puke.

idk. i just really don’t like feeling so exposed and feeling like for everyone else it’s just a game, or just in general people getting to be Entertained by the marvel version of something that’s really hard for me. and i get on some level it’s not really fair or objective bc i have an equally unrealistic portrayal of it i really LIKE, but i never felt like that one opened DID up to public scrutiny and ridicule, i always felt like it was if anything a way people could sort of understand some of the emotions involved by being “in the shoes” of someone with DID since it’s your player character.

[thecoveninarticulate]

Meet @princelesthottie !! 

@princelesthottie is our featured fanartist for the month of August !! You maybe see her around sometimes, drawing lots of Loustat fluff and fav fanfic scenes! Here’s some info if you wanna get to know her a little better!

NAME: Isabel! AGE: 19! FROM: Los Angeles!

Hit the cut for more! 

Favorite Vampire Chronicle: Interview with the Vampire, hands down. Louis’ prose, Claudia’s Whole Deal, Lestat’s Lestat-ness, the Angst, the Vampire-ing Issues, Armand’s manipulations…it’s a melting pot of homoerotic bloody drama that gets me every time. And it all takes place in Post-Colonial Louisiana or 1800′s France while simultaneously taking place in a dingy room in San Fran. What more could anyone ask for? 

Favorite character: Louis de Pointe du Lac. To be fair, I actually did not like Louis to begin with. But then he became an obscure character and I got pissed off that the character who kicks off the series just disappeared amid Lestat’s extra-ness. I asked myself, “Where the hell is this guy?” reevaluated everything I knew, and fell hopelessly in love with him, which people are prone to do so it’s no big deal. His empathy moves me, and, I don’t know, I love the fact that he’d most likely kill me if I were to run into him one night. But, if anyone wants to check all the other reasons why I love him, you should swing by my tag “#we appreciate and love louis in this house” that’s on my blog.

What made you start drawing and sharing VC art?: The reason I started drawing VC art was because there wasn’t much art of people/scenes/things I wanted to see (like Gabrielle, Lestat comatose while Louis reads to him, at least semi-canon haired Louis, etc…). I also figured I should practice drawing dudes, which I did very little prior to being in this fandom, and I think that’s evident in the very “feminine-like” quality that comes with my art. Simple as that. As for sharing my VC art—well, I can shamelessly admit I stalked the VC tag for awhile before engaging with anyone, and I found the community to be relatively small but cozy. People knew each other and everyone put out what they could, and I just found that so endearing (it also helped me calm my nerves regarding posting anything at all; this is the first fandom I’ve participated in), so I just went ahead and started posting the little that I did. It became a thing, and here I am. AND I intend to stay, because I’m nowhere near done with putting together the things I wanna see, and interacting with the rest of the coven!! 

What’s your favorite thing to draw?: uuuuh, Louis, duh!! But VC aside, especially since Louis isn’t a “thing,” whenever I’m in class or just in the mood to doodle, I usually really like to sketch out eyes or flowers or plants. Or just random patterns, even. It’s very relaxing. 

Biggest artistic influences?: Just seeing the pieces created by artists on sites like Tumblr and DeviantArt—not even “professional” artists or classical painters—makes a huge impact on me. I swear to god, back when I was very immersed in the Lord of the Rings/Silmarillion fandom, taking in all that the fans did, caused everything I drew to be swamped with natural elements and (what I like to believe were) original patterns for clothes and such. Plus, noticing the way different people color their art, the way they put images together, and mess with lighting and shadows…it just makes me so happy and inspires me to try and do my own thing. Music also influences me a lot—and it’s all types of music. A pop song, a classic, or an oldie can just get me so hyped. If I like it, I start to construct a video in my head, and try and apply lyrics/vibes to my favorite characters and stories. 

A skill or medium you’d like to learn or get better at?: I’d love to learn how to put together a decent background that isn’t basic/minimalistic. I spend way too much time concentrating on the focus of my pieces. It’s like I burn myself out putting effort into that focus, so what’s going on in the back/surroundings gets neglected. I also think it wouldn’t hurt to improve my expression-drawing skills.

Favorite classical artist that gets name dropped in VC?: OK, I can tell you who I don’t particularly like, because I sadly can’t say I have a favorite/remember all the artists referenced. I’m not so much a fan of Botticelli or Blake. I know Rembrandt’s also mentioned, and I like what he does with lighting, but, again, I wouldn’t say he’s a favorite of mine. But, hey, if we’re talking about classical art that isn’t restricted to drawing and painting—I specifically remember Chopin being mentioned (Lestat had acquired a possession of his for Antoine—which makes sense, since both Antoine and Chopin were Sad Boys), and I’m always down for some Chopin. 

Other fandoms you draw/any sideblogs we can promote?: -It’s very rare, but occasionally I draw for Lord of the Rings/Silmarillion or Rick Riordan-verses and post what I do on my personal. But in all honestly, it’s just comprised of memes and posts I find entertaining. If anyone cares to check it out, though, it’s @mortabellum (link is on my actual laptop Tumblr page). 

Fave VC era to draw?: It’s always gonna be Rue Royale with me, although Trinity Gate is a close second. I’m just so in love with the first book, and Louis, Lestat and Claudia’s dynamic.

You can find more of Isabel’s work in her art tag, #My Trash™  !! 

[i-want-my-iwtv]

heyyy yy i’ve been out of the fandom for a while but i heard a new book about lestat and atlantis has been published. now, i don’t think i’m going to read it since i was pretty disappointed by the previous one so, could you please give an honest opinion on the book, if you’ve read it?

Hey, welcome back! 

Indeed, we have Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis (PLROA). It’s the most recent book. We’re expecting at least one more installment after this one, no date has been given yet. 

@bluestockingcouture — Ok I can’t phrase this very well, but tumblr won’t let me tag them, so I made a link to my reblog of their post in which they share that they wrote a 1,800 word review of PLROA that quotes Rousseau, so you might want to check that out on goodreads. (spoiler cut is there)

Here’s another by Kirkus Reviews 2016-10-19. (spoilers in full view)

To be honest, near the end of PLROA I had to put it down bc it was about to launch into a monologue from a new character who I don’t really feel much affection for, and so I still haven’t finished it, but I am thoroughly spoiled as to what happens bc I love being spoiled. 

There were many moments where I smiled bc it reminded me of the way the characters behaved in earlier books, there’s some development as to their current status, there’s some great little moments between them, and I think it’s worth reading for those gems.

I’ve always been able to read VC and cherry pick the things that I like (a good chunk of dialogue here or there, or something that seems to give more clarification to the established world/characters, etc.) and I have a flexible headcanon, so I can accept or not accept things based on the fanfic I’m reading, too, depending on what canon it relies on. 

Having said that, PLROA feels very much like what would happen if one novel you were working on needed life support and you added your much more popular character(s) into it as a means of rescuing it. 

“I was working on a novel called Born for Atlantis, and I just couldn’t get it to work. I thought, “What if I could somehow combine this with Lestat and the vampires?” And it was like, everything worked. Something happens to me when I write from Lestat’s point of view. There’s no question about it. By the time I was done, it felt inevitable, like it always had been…. It was a rare experience.”

^Anne Rice, Entertainment Weekly (August 5, 2016) [X] I’m glad that she shared that with us, because it explains why she brought these things together. Even if she hadn’t admitted as such, I think we would have been able to piece that together. 

Some things are good on their own, some ideas can be brought together and the result is wonderful alchemy! But I think in this case, it felt like someone had dumped a river of ketchup on an icecream sundae. PLROA might count as what the fandom used to lovingly call the Vampire Crackicles.

Back then, we could have a good time, even when canon was wild. We could make fun of Lestat being a huge baby about his foot size in Blood Canticle:

Seldom did I see my feet in black socks. I knew almost nothing personally about my feet. They looked rather small for the twenty-first century. Bad luck. But six feet was still a good height.

Or, also in Blood Canticle, Lestat fixated by ice cubes:

…the sparkle in the ice cubes, the Miracle of the Ice Cubes.

^Our old familiar canon Rice Caps! Why can’t these things be funny anymore?

Or are the wacky things in PLROA too wacky to even find endearing? We do tentatively joke about PLROA, but not as robustly as we did over those older Vampire Crackicles. Maybe in a few years we’ll be more vocal about it, bc there will be even crazier canon. Lestat goes to Mars! Lestat ages backwards like Benjamin Button! Lestat accidentally destroys Alaska! 

So IDK, I always recommend that ppl read the books before they judge them, but I think it’s easier to enjoy the wackiness if you can take it less seriously. 

[vcsecretgifts]

Christmasing Intensifies

From: @gairid/ @vampchronfic

To: @theballadofmrslovett ( @covenofthearticulate) - Profuse apologies for the lateness of submission. I followed some of your prompts but as very often happens, the characters decided on their own direction. Joyeux Noël - enjoy!

Business at Finnegan’s Easy was brisk when we stopped in, but we managed to find two seats at the far end of the bar. Louis hung the handles of the shopping bag he’d been carrying on the little hook under the bar and began rummaging through it. From mid-bar, Alison, the bartender gave me a nod and a grin, mouthing ‘Regular?’ I nodded.

“Ah.” Louis muttered. “Found it. And the envelopes.”  He straightened his back and set the mentioned items on the bar. He was completely adorable in a bright green Grinch sweater and a Santa hat perched on his head.

“Max and the Grinch!” Alison cried as she approached with two mugs of Bass Ale.

“At your service,” Louis said amiably, doffing the Santa hat with good deal of aplomb. Alison put the mugs in front of us.

“I’d curtsey, but I don’t know how,” she said. She had a radiant smile. I’d always thought so.

“It’s easier if you’re wearing a gown.”  I said.

“If you say so. Hey, I love the uh…antler, Max,” she said with a cheeky nod at my head. “I’m betting those get-ups were your idea.”

“Ha!” I said. “You’d lose that bet! Louis surprised me with the sweaters and headgear.”  I gave her a gleaming smile. This seemed to delight her.

“Should I start a tab, or…”

“Not today, thanks. We have several visits ahead of us,” Louis said, picking up the beautifully wrapped little box and handing it to her. Her dark eyes lit up with pleasure.

“Merry Christmas, Alison.” Louis said warmly.

“Yes–Joyeux Noël, ma chérie.” I pushed the envelopes her way. “And if you wouldn’t mind distributing these among your colleagues? There is one in there for you and please give Raquel our good wishes. ”

“You guys are the best. Really…thank you so much and Merry Christmas to you both.”

An hour or so later, all deliveries done, we sat side by side on a bench in front of the Cathedral listening to a group of carolers enthusiastically charging through ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. They made up in speed what they may have lacked in tunefulness.

“It will rain later.” Louis remarked. His head was tilted back and his mouth open slightly as he tasted the wind.

“I suppose we should head home. Trust you to invite Armand to a Christmas movie night.” I said, going for a tone of severe annoyance and failing utterly. I didn’t mind that Armand was coming, not really. It’s become a bit of a game and as such things go, it had become comfortable and somehow compelling. “You really are a Grinch, you know that?”

“Oh yes,” he agreed. “A nasty, wasty skunk.” He opened his eyes and turned to look at me. “Come now, Lestat. Don’t deny how completely you enjoy Armand crawling all over you, the frightful little imp. And Daniel will be with him, so it should be an entertaining evening.”

“I’m quite sure our succulent little Amadeo would much rather be crawling all over you, Louis dearest.”

He sniffed. “Not if you put on that terrifying Santa lingerie. I’m certain he’d be most interested in what the …uh…beard covers.” He made a comical face that managed to convey both amusement and horror at the same time.

 An hour and a quarter later we’d greeted our guests with a round of embraces and kisses beneath the enormous, not-not-to-be missed cluster of branched mistletoe hanging from the chandelier in the foyer. I must point out that Armand took complete advantage of the tradition involving mistletoe with both Louis and myself as well as with Daniel. Predictable of course but  as I pointed out  earlier, compelling. When he’s not working hard at appearing aloof and enigmatic, he can be a seductive little creature.

 After welcoming them with the impromptu make-out session, I noticed our guests were dressed alike in expensive cashmere slacks and sweaters colorfully decorated with tiny blinking  lights . I was working out something snide but not too aggressive to say about the sweaters but before I managed it, Louis ushered them upstairs.

 Louis’s prediction was the accurate one; as soon as I sat down, Armand made himself at home beside me and by the time all the Whos down in Whoville were welcoming Christmas Day, he was draped across my lap, but his child-like enjoyment of the cartoon changed the ambiance entirely. By the time we’d got to the Alastair Sim version of ‘A Christmas Carol’, the four of us were sprawled in a comfortable tumble beneath  a comforter.

 “You know, I always thought that perhaps the spirits had driven Ebenezer quite mad, judging by his behaviour on Christmas morning.” Armand said.

 “Such behavior seems normal enough considering the rapid emotional changes Scrooge underwent in the course of one night,” Louis replied.

 “Oh, my god.” Daniel said,  laughing.  “Are you  seriously dissecting this?  The story is one of those whaddayacallit…” He twisted his head around to look at me.

 “Cautionary tale?” I said.

 “Yeah. Close enough.”

 Armand reached and ran his hand through Daniel’s hair. “Just a remark.” he said.

 “Huh.” I said. “By this time I think I recognize the specific ways in which Armand and Louis flirt.”

 Daniel laughed. “Must be preliminary, then. The real seduction begins when they speak Latin to each other.”

 Armand looked over at Louis. “Philistines.”

 Louis nodded in agreement. “Rabble.”

 “As far as I know, I am the only nobility in this room.” I said loftily.

 Armand snorted. “Politesse dictates that remain silent rather than possibly offending you,” he said, shifting in my lap so he could look up at me rather than at the television. “My lord.” he  added with a particularly melting glance.

 “Louis,” Daniel hissed in a dreadfully loud stage whisper, “Please look at me so that I will fall instantly in love with you.”

 “Didn’t he already do that upon your initial meeting?” I asked sweetly.

 Louis made no remark. Instead he slithered across Daniel so they were face to face, mouths very close. Louis gave him a hot little kiss. “Do you love me now? I hope so.” He glanced at the French doors. The band of sky just visible above the roofline of the houses across the street had lightened to gray. “Because it looks like you’ll need to spend the day with us.”

 Louis rose from the couch in his usual graceful way and extended his hand to Daniel. I looked down at Armand. “After your last remark I should toss you out the door, but I will defer to Louis.  The bed’s big enough and of a necessity, our bedroom is the secure one.”

 “Merry Christmas.” Daniel breathed, following Louis from the room. He was still clearly enthralled by Louis’s kiss.

 “Who knows what might happen when we next awaken?”  Armand said musingly. A smug little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

 I put my arms under Armand and stood, cradling him like a sleepy child. “Who knows?” I set him on his feet.

 “Merry Christmas, Lestat.” he said as we walked companionably down the hall.

 “Merry Christmas, Armand.”

 FIN