#imagine lestat washing claudia’s hair

[i-write-fic-not-essays]

i can’t believe the lack of fem!lestat content in this fandom… lestat and claudia are just too mother-daughter core for this blatant neglect of she/her lestat canon

[her-golden-hair]

Who I imagine playing VC characters

I just thought this up as a guide for myself since I tend to age some of these characters up or down in my head (to the point where Armand looks like, 12 and Marius looks like an angry grandpa, no thanks). It’s probably not realistic for the actual VC show, and neither is it culturally accurate (Maharet/Mekare would not have been white, the actors playing Egyptians aren’t actually Egyptian, etc.) but this is only based off their book descriptions, and literally just here for my reference, lol

Lestat de Lioncourt: I imagine Dylan Sprouce when he had long hair. He’s actually older than the character, at 25, but his twin plays a teenager on Riverdale so it’s fine. He would just need a curling iron and some brighter colored eyes and he’s perfect

Louis de Pointe Du Lac: Ezra Miller, something a lot of us agree on. Has a very sad, soft, and beautiful face and the right hair, but he would need green eyes (easy enough)

Claudia: I literally just searched up a stock photo of a 5-year-old girl with curly blonde hair. Seeing these photos reminded me of how small a 5-year old really is! Makes her character even more tragic and terrifying

Armand: Timothee Chalamet. His character in CMBYN was literally that of Armand in Venice: lovestruck muse. He may be in his early 20s, but he has a very youthful face. I truly believe he could be put into a Renaissance painting and I wouldn’t even notice. All he needs is some hair dye and he’s perfect

Marius de Romanus: Cody Fern. A lot of us think he’d make a good Lestat, but I saw a post which said they thought he’d make a good Marius, and I had to agree. He has a sort of ageless grace to him. He is certainly younger than 40, but with the really ancient vampires I interpreted their appearance as, well, ageless (plus a little makeup can go a long way). Also makes his relationship with Armand less creepy (remember how I would keep imagining Armand as a child?? barf)

Daniel Malloy (Molloy?): Charlie Heaton. For this search I just looked up actors who looked like River Phoenix. He really fits the bill and can go from wide-eyed journalist to washed-out crackhead with the right facial expressions, haha

Gabrielle de Lioncourt: Emily Blunt. I really, really, wanted Cate Blanchett but she just looked too old to be Lestat’s 40-something mom. Emily Blunt, though, can give off some serious sapphic I-have-killed-a-man energy, so I’m not worried.

Nicolas de L’enfent: Ben Barnes. He and Ezra look alike but he does not have the same hypnotizing mysterious energy, which is exactly how I interpreted it in the books. Can definitely see him play an anxiety-ridden violinist.

Akasha: Zoe Kravitz. She can really pull off the whole “sexy half-lidded-eyes kill-a-man” look. She has a lovely silky voice as well and a very regal, ageless energy about her. Plus she reminds me of Aaliyah, the hero we needed but didn’t deserve.

Enkil: Chiwetel Ejiofor. Can play spooky, intense demon king very well. Piercing eyes and a thundering voice? Hell yes babey

Khayman: Riz Ahmed. Kinda imagined a skinny, almost goofy-lookin guy who is just trying his best. I feel Riz can kind of command awe and dignity when playing a vampire, as well as portray a timid, yet strong and compassionate mortal man.

Maharet/Mekare: Eleanor Tomlinson just looks so ethereal and wise. She seems to glide through the world instead of simply walking. Women as old and powerful as the twins is should be played by someone like this.

Jesse Reeves: Sophie Turner. I know she’s a bit younger than the character, who was 35 when she was turned, but idk, Sophie has a very mature look and energy to her. I also wanted to find someone who looked like Eleanor, since they were described as “twins”

I only went up to characters in the first three books. Don’t ask me about any more of them. I wouldn’t know.

[ronsenburg]

For Sgarrista, forever ago. Ignore this.

Elements

You show up like a hurricane, all hungry-eyed and weather-stained

The clock forgets to tick and I the same.

I died the day you disappeared, so why would you be welcome here?

Ride the wind that brought you back away

You can't come in.

No, you can’t come in.

Nicolas has become so used to imagining the sight of golden hair glistening in the sunlight as he turns the corner to his flat that he almost doesn’t notice the day he actually arrives. The violinist is already rummaging through his pocket, looking for a set of antique gate keys with his eyes fixed somewhere near the sidewalk, when realization suddenly dawns upon him and he is acutely aware of what he has seen. Nicolas raises his glance slowly, so very carefully, as though looking too quickly will chase the figure before him away.

But he is there, dressed impeccably in a well-cut collared shirt with the top buttons conspicuously undone, long strands of blonde hair curling faintly where they fall over his leather jacket-clad shoulders.

Nicolas stops dead in his tracks.

Lestat removes his sunglasses, elegantly long fingers tucking them away in the inner pocket of his jacket, a confident smile curling along the edges of his full lips. “Nicki,” he says and it sounds like a greeting, an apology, and a command all at once.

Nicolas drops the violin case in his hand, fingers shaking too badly to maintain his grip.

The clasps fail as it tumbles to the ground, bursting open with enough force that the instrument is displaced, the varnished wood glistening between them in the sunlight, bearing witness.

“Nicki,” Lestat repeats as he takes a step forward. His tone is so familiar, amused and full of warmth that Nicolas cannot help the desperate, pained sigh that escapes his lips. “Invite me in.”

He cannot.

Nicolas can barely breathe as he takes in the expectant expression on Lestat’s face, anger rising from deep within him. He turns, fighting the overwhelming feeling of nausea that threatens to overtake him, leaving the violin sprawled on the ground as he hurries away.

  When Nicolas burst through the front doors of Louis’ silent mansion he is seething, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically at his side. He doesn’t know why he comes, already certain of the answer to every question he wishes to hurl in the other man’s face... but he cannot stay away. Louis stands quickly, crossing the distance of the room in three long strides with a concern that turns Nicolas’ stomach again. He spies Claudia splayed across a chaise on the other side of the room, fingers thumbing through the pages of a magazine with a frustrated disinterest that betrays her.

“He’s back.” Nicolas spits, voice desperately keening and furious all at once. He is already pacing, his feet wearing a pattern into the freshly vacuumed rug of the parlor floor.

Louis stands still in the doorway, hands dropping limply at his sides as though he wishes to reach out to Nicolas but cannot. “I know,” he affirms quietly, and a strangled noise of pain escapes Nicolas’s lips.

“You told him where to find me.”

Louis is too easy to read, the guilt and pain splashed across his face plainly when he replies, “Yes.”

“Is he staying here?”

Louis doesn’t immediately answer and Claudia laughs from the chaise, though the sound is bitter and unkind. “One happy family,” she mocks and Nicolas finds he cannot breathe.

“He won’t stay.” and he is practically shouting, so desperate to make Louis understand.

Louis will not meet his eyes.

“I know.”

  Nicolas returns home far later, the taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue as he stumbles under the piercing lights of the street lamps.

He turns the corner to his apartment with baited breath.

Lestat is gone.

Relief and disappointment and misery and rage wash over him all at once.  

He turns quickly to the edge of the street and is quietly and thoroughly sick.