#lestat is definitely losing it

[weidli]

bring your long stakes

[kingdomoftyto]

Hey so IwtV is back for season 2 and we're feeling Really Super Normal about it already

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"HALLOWEEN PARTIES"

EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of possible future pregnancy, lots of suggestive conversation and making out. not edited. upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 9.9k+ → a/n: @take-everything-you-can plagued me with thoughts of what our idiots would get up to on halloween, and i just couldn't help myself. it definitely spiraled out of control though. my bad. ALSO, QUICK DISCLAIMER: please if you get a snake don't do what reader and eddie did. snakes a homebodies. we are just going to pretend it's okay in this context for the name of fiction, alright? obligatory snake owner ramble over. let's GO.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

The thumping of the bass was audible before you’d even exited the elevator fully. 

Any other day of the year, you’d assume your group of friends would be earning an instant noise complaint for the volume of the music coming from behind Steve and Robin’s apartment front door. But it wasn’t just any other day – it was Halloween, and somewhere amongst the rhythm of what surely had to be Steve blasting Abba, you could make out fellow neighbors playing music just as loudly. 

If anything, the overly quiet apartments were more concerning than the noisy ones. 

“Do you think Lestat is going to do okay with the music?” Eddie suddenly frets, one hand reaching to tug on what little fabric there was of his costume. It almost made you smile, a reminder of what exactly your usually ‘scary’ boyfriend was donning. 

Britney Spears, circa 2001. One of her most iconic VMA performances. 

He’d decided it the moment you two had come home several months ago with the most important accessory that was draped around his neck – a juvenile ball python named Lestat, who looked surprisingly content as he hung onto Eddie’s shoulders. 

“I don’t know,” you hum, looking over at Eddie, a little bit concerned now that he’d brought it up, “Maybe it’s a bad idea-”

“I’m texting Nance to turn the music down.�� 

“What if it freaks him out?” 

“It’ll be fine.” 

“What if he gets stressed and bites you, Eddie?” 

To any onlooker, the sight of you might have been a bit funny. Furrowed brows, arms crossed, sticky blood spread out across your stomach and sternum. 

The theme tonight for the two of you had been iconic performances. Eddie insisted, and part of you knew he was just afraid to dress up so extravagantly all alone when it came to this small get-together, but you hadn’t hesitated to pull together your own version of Lady Gaga’s iconic VMA performance from 2009. If you two were going to commit to a theme this year, you were committing. 

Eddie balances his phone in one hand, typing with a single thumb. Impressive, given his history of ardently avoiding owning a smart phone. His other hand trails up to his collarbone, sneaking a careful finger below Lestat’s head, holding him up and pouting his lip a little, “This little guy? Biting me? He would never.” 

The sight was cute. Obnoxiously, overly, endearingly cute. 

“He’s still a snake,” you try to argue, stopping right outside of apartment 34C. The music was more clear now as it switched from whatever Abba tune had been playing to Maneater by Nelly Furtado, “If he gets scared enough, he might.” 

“I’d hardly call him a snake,” Eddie snorts, shoving his phone back into his pocket, smiling as he tilts his chin to awkwardly stare at the snake now carefully slithering over his knuckles, “Dude misses the mice on his first strike every time we feed him. And if there was ever a time he was going to bite me, it would have been when I was taking that moss out of his mouth as he was eating.”

That earns a huff of a laugh from you as well. The image of Eddie on Monday night, absolutely losing his mind as he’d noticed that Lestat had gotten his mouse entangled in some of the moss decorating his enclosure, not even hesitating to open the tank once more and throw his hand in right along with the tongs to prevent your new ‘son’ from ingesting it, crosses your mind. It hadn’t mattered how much you reassured him that it was probably normal in the wild, that Lestat’s body could certainly handle it. Eddie had been insistent and blinded by what could only be described by paternal instinct. 

If you’d asked yourself last Halloween if that had been where you see your life heading in a year’s time, you would have rolled your eyes. 

“You do realize how dumb that was of you, right?” you insist, remembering your fear and the way your breath had caught in the moment. It was funny now, but you’d never gripped onto Eddie’s shoulder tighter than when he’d recklessly done so. You loved the snake, you really did, but you’d realized in that moment you might still love Eddie just a little bit more. 

The conversation is cut short as it’s clear that Nancy had received Eddie’s text, the music behind the door quieting a bit along with a change of song. 

Your jaw nearly drops, “You did not make Nancy do that.” 

The opening notes of I’m a Slave 4 U were impossible to miss.

“I did.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Are you gonna insult me the entire night, or let me make my iconic entrance?” 

You don’t get a chance to answer, Eddie carefully passing by you, Lestat’s head bouncing a little as it passes a bit closer to your face than you would have been comfortable with a few months ago. 

The snake, funnily enough, had even been your idea to begin with. Your want, your desperate argument you’d wasted countless breaths upon while getting ready for bed with Eddie. 

It’ll be fun, you’d whined to Eddie as you’d both crawled into bed, we even have the space in the living room. 

Sweetheart, you’re fucking terrified of snakes, Eddie had easily rebuttalled. He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t stop you from huffing like a petulant child. 

That’s an exaggeration, you argued right back.

Your hands had still shook ferociously that first day of bringing home the snake when you’d been the one to move him from the small container the store had placed him and into the full fifty gallon tank now occupying a fairly large chunk of the apartment’s living room. 

You’re still lost in your head as the door swings open for Eddie right as the first chorus of the song begins. He’s dramatic, fully committed, a glimmer of who he must have been in high school shining right through as he struts confidently into your friends’ apartment. 

A version of Eddie you somehow missed despite never having met. You almost wonder if you would have still ended up here if you’d met then; you almost wonder if you would have still ended up at each other’s throats inevitably, even in those days. 

You probably would have. You secretly hope that it all would have still happened exactly as it has. 

“No fucking way!” 

Robin is the first voice you can hear excitedly shriek out a reaction to Eddie, followed by a sharp hush from Nancy. They’re deeper in the apartment, out of your line of sight. You can hear Jonathan’s muttered response lost in the music, and you can smell Argyle’s presence rather than hear or see it. 

Weed had been expected, but Steve and Robin were strict in their rule of only partaking on the balcony. 

“Yes fucking way,” Eddie responds, clearly giddy. You finally trail in behind him, not necessarily shy but certainly not nearly as extravagant as he had been. You hang back a bit, biting back a grin, just admiring your boy.

All warmth, rosey cheeks spread wide in his boyish grin, eyes bright as he wiggles his brows as Robin. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Robin whispers as she rushes forward, glancing over her shoulder, clearly looking for Steve before she leans it a tad bit closer towards Lestat. 

“Mama didn’t raise a bitch,” Eddie snarkily replies, moving to slowly remove the snake from his neck. 

“Language,” you jokingly scold him, reaching out to take the snake from his hands as he brings it to his chest, giving Robin a closer look at the nearly-glimmering pale scales of your pet. Almost instinctively, he starts to pull the animal away, but once he sees the look on your face, he’s quick to hand him over. “No cursing around our son.”

Nancy finally walks up, still no sign of Steve as she joins your side and Lestat wraps his body slowly around your wrist, “Oh my God, don’t tell me you also refer to this thing as your child.” 

“This thing?” Eddie huffs, more offended than you, “Nance, he has a name.” 

Robin has gravitated towards you now, entirely captivated by the ball python, eyes shimmering as she lets out the smallest gasps and squeals under her breath, “What’s his name?” 

“Lestat,” you whisper, watching Nancy and Eddie grow closer and clearly get more immersed in their own private conversation, “But Eddie wanted to name him Frodo.” 

“Frodo,” Robin chuckles a little, looking at you questioningly as she holds out a timid finger. You give her a nod, moving a thicker part of the snake’s body to face her rather than the head, “Sounds like Eddie.” 

It did indeed. Once the bickering of whether or not you two would even get the snake to begin with had faded, the entire argument of what its name would be had started up. Eddie wanted the snake to be named after his favorite books – you wanted to name the snake after your most recent reads. 

You’d clearly won. At the sacrifice of promising the inevitable first of many cats you and Eddie would eventually have be named Frodo instead. But you’d still won. 

Robin’s eyes finally leave the snake long enough to take in your own outfit, and you hadn’t realized it was possible for the girl’s grin to widen, “Wait - are you dressed as Lady Gaga from her Paparazzi performance?” 

“Oh, my dear Birdie,” you coo out the endearment, shivering slightly as the cool body of the snake continues to slither up near your elbow, “This night is just getting started.”

—

You were right. The night had just begun. 

The first few hours pass fairly chaotically. A languid and rapid mixing of everyone excitedly catching up on each other’s lives, various drinks beginning to be concocted. Some delicious, and some spurring gags from others simply from the description of the hard liquor that had gone into them. 

Argyle had managed to lure many of the group out onto the patio at various intervals to partake in the devil’s lettuce, as he had proudly proclaimed it. Nancy and Jonathan had figured out a way to set up a makeshift karaoke party in the living room, lyrics for songs being displayed on the main TV. And Steve, for all his attentive hospitality as the one of the co-hosts of the night, had remained painfully oblivious. 

Eddie had gone behind his back when it came to bringing Lestat. Steve had made it clear when the two of you had purchased the puppy in reptile form that he wanted nothing to do with the python, while the rest of the group had been easily intrigued – especially Robin. And so once Eddie had decided upon his Britney outfit, the next logical step had been securing Lestat’s attendance at the party. He hadn’t texted Steve - or Nancy, as a matter of fact - but rather Robin. 

The girl hadn’t even taken a minute to respond, overly enthusiastic to meet the snake. 

Everyone had slowly become a part of a more silent bet as the night dragged on, and for once, you and Eddie were on the betting side of it all. The drinks were poured, the weed was smoked, the music was sung along to painfully off-key, and Steve never once noticed the snake that was frequently wrapped around various parts of yours and Eddie’s body. 

The quick exchanges probably didn’t help. When Steve needed your help in the kitchen at one point, you’d smoothly handed Lestat over to Eddie in passing. When Eddie had agreed to join Jonathan and Argyle on the balcony at one point, he’d easily and carefully draped the snake across the nape of your neck from behind the couch. Hell, you’d even spent a good five minutes engrossed in a conversation with Steve, all the while Lestat had been comfortably coiled around your bicep opposite the man. 

As the hours passed by, you found yourself wanting to be caught. 

Your phone pings suddenly as you bury yourself deeper into the leather couch, giggling over Steve’s current rendition of What’s New Scooby Doo?. 

You shuffle carefully to pull it from where you’d wedged it against your hip, trapped weakly by your white bottoms speckled with glittery blood.

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND: I want a cigarette :-( 

You do a double take of the contact name, blinking rapidly before you finally connect the dots. 

YOU: when the hell did you change your contact name in my phone?

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND:  Unimportant. 

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND:  Do you think if I hand Lestat off to you right now that Steve would notice? 

Your eyes flick up as the song ends, Robin having jumped up to finish off the performance with Steve, the two of them a mess of flailing limbs clinging to each other and joyful laughter bubbling out of them for unknown reasons. 

Well, partially unknown reasons. One of them was surely the strange concoction the two of them had chugged at some point in the night that had included both watermelon flavored vodka and green apple whiskey. That had been one you’d cringed and stuck your tongue out at. 

YOU: 50/50 chance. And NOT unimportant btw, what’s my name in YOUR phone? 

Just as Eddie exits the bathroom, Steve perks up at the sound of the door and distant flush, removing himself entirely from Robin’s embrace, “Fuckin’ finally! I have to piss.”

Everyone holds their breath as he rushes past Eddie, but he still remains completely unaware of the snake that Eddie is carrying. 

The slam of the door times perfectly with Eddie’s collapse onto the couch next to you, a shy and guilty grin already gracing his face before you even begin bursting at the seams with continuing the text conversation face-to-face. 

“Seriously,” you waste no time, turning to him quickly and your knee easily overlapping his thigh as you shuffle into a more comfortable position, “When did you change your name in my phone, asshole?” 

He takes his time answering, pulling on the ridiculously small jean shorts he wears as his shoulders quiver with the effort of holding in his laughter, “Words hurt, baby.” 

You hate the way nicknames as simple as baby can send still shivers down your spine. 

“You couldn’t have at least been a little more creative? Like, world’s hottest boyfriend? C’mon, you can be more clever than that, surely.” 

It’s easy to do this, to egg him on and prod at his ego in the softest of ways. It’s also always been a dead giveaway to him that he’s gotten under your skin. 

“My name with a pretty black heart next to it just wasn’t cutting it anymore,” he pouts exaggeratedly, leaning into your space a bit, holding the snake a careful distance away as he looks into your eyes and a suspiciously jubilant look crosses his face, “What would you have preferred?” 

“Something shorter,” you breathe out, feeling some of the alcohol coursing through your veins now, making your headswim as you suck in the scent of his cologne heavy in the space between you, “It’s a bit of a mouthful, if I’m being honest.” 

“It is,” he nods, and his lips spread salaciously, pupils growing just a tad bit wider before he delivers a devastating blow, “But we both know you can take it, can’t you, baby?”

Damn him. Fuck him. Send him all the way down to the depths of Hell, for all you care. 

He’s caught on to a clear game he can play now that you’re tipsy, one that he certainly has the upper hand in, and you can’t tell if the night ending in him winning it would actually spell your loss. You swear, you can already feel his hands on your hips, tearing off the costume you’d spent several weeks carefully sewing sequins into, his lips getting sticky with all the fake blood across your torso, his- 

Huh. Never had you realized yourself to be such a horny drunk. 

“Now I need a cigarette,” you grumble, leaning away from him, trying to break whatever spell he was casting. None of your friends’ have even noticed the interaction happening on the couch, saving you from eternal embarrassment. 

If you’d had less pinot noir and shots of Fireball whiskey in your veins, you’d probably still find the decency in you to be self-conscious at toying with these things in public. Maybe scold him, maybe douse out whatever flames he was attempting to ignite. 

Eddie leans back as well, clearly satisfied with himself as he lifts Lestat up to preoccupy himself by pretending to study the lightened coloring of the snake. Mostly white, with splatterings of a traditional morph at random across the body. The woman who had sold the snake to the two of you had referred to it as a piebald. If you had been shopping with an actual breeder rather than a reputable rescue, he would have cost an arm and a leg. 

Luck had been on your side the day you’d stumbled upon the snake. You wish luck was still on your side tonight. 

Eddie sticks out the tip of his tongue to mimic the snake a few times before he focuses on you again, “You know, we could always see if Robin wants to watch him while we both go grab one.”

You have no clue how the girl had heard him from across the living room, but she suddenly appears at his side, just as eager in appearance as her original text giving the blessing to bring Lestat had been. 

“Did someone say I could hold the snake?” she bounces a bit on the balls of her feet, looking down with utter fascination, “Please tell me you guys just said I could hold the little guy. When you first got him, I did a ton of research so I’d know proper handling tips, and also how to know if he gets too stressed. Also I may or may not have been nervous about how often they bite, but I found out that-”

“They don’t bite,” Eddie interrupts with reassurance, offering a small smile as he looks up to her, “At least, not very often. You usually have to aggravate them pretty badly, or catch them on a really shit day for them to strike.” 

It had been a huge selling point in convincing him. Ball pythons were docile in nature, and they’d be quicker to match up to their namesake by balling up than actually strike out at someone. 

Of course, the day you had been informing of this, you had no idea he was already aware of it. He knew they didn’t bite, he knew the specifics of what a habitat for them needed, he knew their dietary needs – he’d already had an Amazon shopping cart filled with supplies after the first time you brought the snake up to him, unbeknownst to you. 

“Yeah,” Robin nods ferociously, hands reaching out carefully, already more than prepared to take the snake, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now hand over the baby and go do whatever debauchery you two are clearly wanting to get up to.” 

“We aren’t getting up to debauchery!” you try to defend the two of you, watching Eddie carefully uncurl Lestat from his arm to pass him into Robin’s waiting hands, “Eddie just wants a cigarette and-”

“And you want to join him and probably get in some hot and steamy makeout sessions, right?” Robin finishes your sentence for you, quirking an eyebrow for a second before letting out a whisper of a squeal when Lestat takes to her quickly. His tail wraps around the length of her wrist and you’re shocked as you watch him stay just as curious as he had been while held by you and Eddie. A tad bit more reserved, but no sign of balling up any time soon. 

Eddie stands from the couch, patting his largest back pocket to ensure his pack of cigarettes and lighter are still safely tucked into it, and you know it’s useless to keep arguing with Robin. She’s entirely entrapped by the snake in her hands now, whispering in a high-pitched tone that surprisingly doesn’t seem to bother Lestat. All her coos nearly resemble baby-talk. It’s cute – sort of. A direct mirror of how you and Eddie have been acting at home when you handle the ball python. 

You stand slower than Eddie had, hawk eyes still glued to your friend, “Just- Just be careful, okay? Avoid touching his head, and don’t wave your hands around too much while talking, because it can scare him. He also might try and crawl up to your hair because Eddie lets him hide in his at home, and sometimes he’ll pull on it because it sticks to him, so just-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie stresses, throwing an arm around your shoulders, giving your bicep opposite from him a quick squeeze, “She’ll be fine.” 

Robin nods, clearly only half listening to the debate as she watches Lestat wander up her arm in clear wonder. 

It sort of does feel like Lestat is your actual human child, as though you’re leaving your toddler with a babysitter for the first time. 

Eddie tugs you deeper into his side, musky cinnamon and boyish charm filling your nose as he leans down and murmurs, “C’mon.” 

A Ghost song starts to thump over the speakers as you allow Eddie to guide you over to the sliding door beside the kitchen, the layout different and even a tad bit nicer than your own apartment. It’s odd, the view of the kitchen being clearer than the living room, the exact opposite of how your home is. 

Home. Even in your tipsy state, even after so much time having living with Eddie and even going as far as to now own a pet with him, the notion fills you with warmth. 

Maybe you’re actually a sentimental drunk. 

As the two of you pass by Argyle, he briefly lifts his head, cherry-shaded eyes peering up excitedly until Eddie quickly shakes his head, making the poor man sink back against the loveseat that he occupies with Jonathan and Nancy. You almost feel bad, but it’s clear Argyle is too far gone to even feel disappointment right now. 

“After you, m’lady,” Eddie chivalrously slides the door open for you, half-bowing and putting on a half-assed British accent as he sweeps his arm for you to exit onto the balcony first. 

“It’s Lady Gaga to you,” you snark as you slip out into the crisp Autumn air, cheeks cooling instantly. 

“Oh,” the door slides shut with a soft thud behind Eddie as he joins you, face immediately covered by the shadows of the evening, “My apologies.” 

It’s nice out. Far nicer than any October has been in the city in what feels like years. The air is refreshing, dare you even say sobering, and the city lights below wink at you as you hear all the distant noises of life. Car horns, children’s laughter, music from other parties. It sounds as though one of the neighbors below is blasting heavy rap, and you swear you can hear the trill of a radio pop song from your left. 

Beer, cider, pumpkin spice – it all fills the air. It’s Halloween, and it’s nice. 

The breeze is electric with all the livelihood, sending goosebumps up your arms as you approach the railing, looking out across a night sky painted some sort of faded cross between navy and grey rather than a stark black of midnight. 

It all turns to static the moment Eddie wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, heavy pack of cigarettes in his palm as his lips find solace in one of the few bare patches of skin on your shoulder. 

“God, I love Halloween,” he murmurs against you, his breath hot as it catches across your costume. 

God, I love you.

You can’t help the cheesy thought as a hand comes up to grip Eddie’s forearm, giving three short squeezes, pulling him just a tad bit closer. But it’s true – Halloween was wonderful, you’d always enjoyed any excuse to get together with your friends and family, but it had never felt quite like this. 

Planning cliche dates during the season, movie marathons spent cuddling up with your other half rather than sitting across on a couch from friends. Kisses in the pumpkin patch. Cider on his lips. Putting up decorations and ending up chasing each other around the apartment, landing in a pile of limbs that slot against one another perfectly. Arguing about which decorations should go on the balcony, which garland to line your front door with. 

It wasn’t a replacement for spending time with your friends. And there were still crude jokes, still bickering over timing of plans and locations to visit. It still felt like spending the holiday with friends – it was spending it with your best friend. 

Eddie Munson. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. The sentiment is unexpected to past you, but so entirely welcome by the you currently enveloped in his embrace.

“I used to insist on spending Halloween alone, you know,” you mumble as his chin digs in the point where your shoulder connects to your neck, vision blurring as you continue to stare out at the tiny busy streets, “Just, like, lay around in my dorm. Watch shitty horror movies on my laptop until I got too scared and had to find some dumb comedy to help me sleep. It was the only day of the year where my roommate sort of acknowledged my existence. She was the one who’d go out, and she’d get all this candy and share it with me.” 

You don’t know the point of your rambling, but Eddie is listening intently anyways. 

You turn carefully in his arms, now mesmerized by how his face looks in the warm glow of the seasonal lights Robin and Steve had put up. Shades of orange flickering across his amber eyes, shadows making all his sharpness in his features more prominent. 

“Talking about it now sounds kind of boring,” you muse, laughing a bit dryly, “The most festive thing I would do was going to the Halloween store with Robin and Steve once they opened.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly, arms still tangled around you, grinning gently, “I don’t think that’s too boring.” 

“It was,” you insist, pressing just a little closer to him, “God, it was so boring. Not going to the store with those idiots – I mean, that was pretty fun. But it was nothing compared to setting up a snake habitat, or carving pumpkins with you. Now I can watch whatever slasher you want before bed, and I still sleep just fine, cause I’ve got you to protect me.” 

His smile matches your own – radiant, proud, happy. 

“Oh, definitely,” he nods once, twice. So sure, ego inflated for the bit, “Any scary men with a chainsaw dare to break into our apartment, and I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

Our apartment. The perfect ring to it. 

“Didn’t you scream about that spider in our apartment yesterday? Like, full on squeal, hopping up onto the couch, begging me to save you-” 

He cuts off all your teasing, even though it was true, with a kiss. Simple, strong, sure. Fingers dancing under your chin to pull you up to him, meeting you halfway and not even hiding his smile at your antics as he effectively shuts you up. 

“We agreed to not talk about that,” he mumbles against your lips, tasting like the last shot of whiskey he took with Nancy. 

“You agreed to not talk about it,” you pester back, trying to pull away from his kiss. But his other hand comes up, trapping your face between both his palms, and it’s a useless effort, “I just promised to not immediately share the photo of you up on the couch with everyone.” 

Half the words are hardly articulate as his lips continue to nip at yours, struggling from your wide smile and the way your entire body is shaking from your giggles. You can feel the cold metal of the railing brushing your exposed lower back, a breeze picking up that can be blamed for the goosebumps racing down your spine rather than Eddie’s wandering hand. It’s not devourment, it’s not desperation, it’s not Earth-shattering. 

It’s something like mending. Something like a promise. 

Living together, celebrating the holidays together, owning a pet together – they were all baby steps leading to something even brighter in the future. An unspoken truth between the both of you. An inevitable crescendo to all that had been built. 

Eddie whines a bit when you pull away again, but this time, your forehead stays pressed to his. A joint effort between the way you tilt your head and the way his hands press you against him.

“Do you remember the last time we were on a balcony together?” you ask in a low whisper, trying to mimic the same suggestive tone that he’s always been able to put on at the drop of a hat.

You’re not quite as talented as him. You’re actually just a giggly drunk.

His brows furrow, “What? This morning?” 

“No.” 

“Two nights ago, when you insisted Lestat needed to see the moon?”

“No.” 

“Are you talking about the afternoon we had a redo of our pumpkin carving contest? Because I still won again, fair and square, ba-”

“I’m talking about the bet, you idiot.” 

His fingertips press a bit deeper into your flesh, his lips forming a wobbly ‘o’ as he stares down at you, “How was I supposed to know you were referring to that? That was definitely not the last time we were on a balcony together-”

You shut him up with the same courtesy as he had done to you, adding in a roll of your eyes before your hands wrap around his neck to pull him into you. This time, you make it hot and heavy. Lips and teeth and tongues, grabby hands from the both of you making their way across all the exposed skin and scraps of costumes you two wear. It takes Eddie aback at first, clearly not expecting the sudden passion, but he recovers quickly. 

He remembers exactly what you’re referring to quickly. 

Your back collides a bit harsher with the railing as he rolls his body up against yours, not a breath of space between the two of you as he wedges his knee between your thighs. You have no idea where his pack of cigarettes has vanished to, but you don’t care. All you really care about is the way he’s holding you, the way he’s suffocating you, the way he’s watering you. 

It’s hard to believe the garden within that he’s nurtured at your side for the last year was ever something broken. That there was once a time it was nothing more than dried vines and pathetic blossoms begging to see the light of day. Now, the warmth of a thousand suns was gifted to you every morning you awoke to his smile. Every joke, every small caring act, every kiss stolen just because one of you felt like it. You two may have accidentally killed that first plant you bought the week you moved in properly with him, but this? 

You can’t imagine a day where the two of you ever might let this die off. 

His lips break from yours, predictably painting a path along your jaw as he murmurs, “I think I do remember. But, just in case – wanna remind me?” 

And for a second, you almost do. 

All your coils are tight across your body, burning in your abdomen and shaking in your knees, but all it takes is the faintest movement of a shadow to remember all your friends inside the apartment still. 

“We can’t,” you whisper, as if they might hear you in the glass, trying to pry yourself away from him just as his teeth start to graze your neck, “Seriously - we can’t.” 

Eddie chuckles lowly against your neck, and you know exactly why. 

You’d started this without even considering the consequences. 

“Started something you can’t finish, didn’t ya, baby?” 

Oh, damn him. That stupid low and teasing tone. That dimple you can feel brush against your skin as he moves his mouth to the other side of your neck. All the heat in your body travels south, pooling between your hips, aching for him to go against your wishes to avoid embarrassment and just finish this. 

He doesn’t, though. You’re starting to believe he’s less drunk than you are, a clearer mind than your own with far more sensibility than he seems capable of most of the time. His lips leave your neck, his hands finding the polite placement of hovering over your hips. The fog is starting to clear, if only just the slightest bit, and-

You were wrong. So, so wrong. 

He’s not sensible. That wicked hand placement was nowhere near polite. In an instant, he’s latched onto you tightly and spun you around, quickly bending you over against the railing so your chest presses into the metal and the cold sends shockwaves across your entire body. Your ass is pressed to his crotch and one hand holds you securely, tight enough that he can be sure you won’t fall, as the other crawls up your back at impeccable speed to press you further down. 

Immediately, you’re squealing, “Eddie!” 

His laughter is just as loud as all your protests as you come face-to-face with the true height of a three-story balcony, knuckles paling from gripping onto the bars. 

You’d hate him for it, but you feel the security of his palm and knuckles around your waist, and you know he’s not letting you go anywhere over that railing. He’s hardly even allowing your head to hang over it. 

The moment you start to lean back up against his hand on your back, he’s allowing it immediately. There’s no friction or fight as you stand up straight once more, back against his chest and your hands already prepared to swing back to smack him before both of his arms come up around your shoulders and cross your chest. 

“You asshole,” you gasp out, flailing hands deciding to grip strongly onto his forearms as he cradles you up in the tight embrace from behind, still chucking in your ear as you both take several steps back. Your heart pounds, and you’re pretty sure your nails are biting into his skin. 

Maybe they’ll leave a mark – you hope they sort of hurt. 

“Just had to make sure you really do remember that night,” he jokes, trying to lean his head far enough over your shoulder to get a good look at your face, “I think the bars would have been a bit more exposing, though, yeah?” 

Your nails dig in deeper, and his grin widens. 

Bastard.

“What if I had fallen?” you snap, finding it hard to be mad at him. Those damned strong arms around you, the thump of his own heart right against the space between your shoulder blades, that fucking dimple. 

“I wouldn’t have let you.”

If the two of you had children some day, would they have his dimples? 

“We’re both drunk-”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“-And I’m pretty sure this balcony isn’t up to OSHA standards-”

“Oh, it definitely isn’t.” 

“-And you almost left our poor son motherless,” you finish off with a forced scowl, shaking off his embrace to face him properly, “Are you prepared for that? Were you prepared to be a single father?” 

God, you hate his fucking smile. God, you hope if you have real kids someday, they have that same shit-eating grin. 

With a pout of his lips, he steps back up to you, looking down tauntingly, “You’re right, baby. I didn’t even think about poor Lestat.”

You hum, standing your ground, but your defenses are quickly crumbling. Your mind is running with too many thoughts, exhausting itself over everything except the residing anger you should feel at your absolute nuisance of a boyfriend. 

The feeling of being held down by him in that position once more. How the heat of his body had warmed you, and you’d only noticed now that the cool air was attacking your exposed back. Swimming in the visions of what color eyes your children might have, pigtail curls of a little girl with Eddie’s defiance or a little boy who wears his shit-eating grin as he exhibits your same unbreakable curiosity. 

You definitely shouldn’t have drank so much tonight. It doesn’t matter what kind of drunk you are – it was a bad idea regardless.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Eddie’s voice takes you out of your thoughts as he slides his arms around your waist, always needing to be touching you, clingy to a ridiculous degree. 

You weren’t complaining, though. How could you? If given the option, you’d make a home out of his bones in a fraction of a heartbeat as well. 

“Nothin’,” you lie through a sigh, head tilted dramatically, much preferring to focus on the ginger contours of Eddie’s cheeks than whatever future Jack Daniels had been painting in your mind. 

“Bullshit,” he doesn’t hesitate to call you out on it. And it’s not the alcohol fueling his boldness – it’s just how he is. He knows you better than the back of his hand, the roof of his mouth, his favorite songs on guitar. He knows you. “You got this dreamy look in your eyes, and you’re staring so hard over my shoulder, I’m almost scared I’ll turn around to see a ghost in the window-” 

Jack Daniels will be your arch nemesis after tonight, the culprit behind the way the words suddenly tumble out of your mouth, “Do you think we’ll have kids someday?” 

You wait for the air to leave the space between the two of you with the same urgency it’s left your lungs. You wait for a crack in the air, a chasm to suddenly appear. It’s heavy – God, it’s a heavy question to suddenly ask your boyfriend of one year at a Halloween party. You’re both drunk on your friends’ balcony, and you were having a perfectly sweet moment, and you’d just gone and ruined it. And to top it all off, Eddie was still just smiling, and- 

Wait. 

Eddie was smiling. 

The air was still there, filling his lungs with calm breaths. No sign of fear within his twinkling eyes. No chasm squeezing between the stitches holding you two together. 

He’s just smiling. 

“Is that really what you were thinking about?” he quietly asks.

You almost don’t want to answer. You almost want to force out cackles of fake laughter, to double over and face the ground rather than his humored expression. 

“Yeah.” 

Maybe he doesn’t believe you yet, maybe he has to double check before he breaks out into his own laughter. Maybe the alcohol in both your veins is just delaying the inevitable that you’d been originally expecting. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Maybe not. 

Instead of laughter, instead of mocking you, he keeps a cheery expression as he shrugs softly, “I mean, maybe? I sort of hope so. And, don’t get me wrong, I know a kid is a pretty far leap from a snake, but I’d say we make a pretty good team at keeping living things…. Well, living, y’know? Besides, I solemnly swear I won’t try to name our kids after Tolkien. I’ll reserve those names for the pets.” 

All the air leaves your lungs again, but this time, it’s a little less painful, “What?” 

“Annie’s a cute name,” he continues on, completely unphased. It’s nearly impossible to remember that you were the one who had started such a serious conversation about the future, “I also like the name Parker. I remember you mentioned that one once, right? Something about being able to nickname the kid Pac-Man, I’m pretty sure. I think that’d be pretty sick.” 

And oh, was he right. You had mentioned the name Parker once. Just not to him. Not directly, at least.

The entire ridiculous make-believe scenario had come to you during a girls’ night, after one too many glasses of wine and Nancy bringing up the topic. You, her, and Robin had all spent a good hour coming up with names for children and the best nicknames to suit them. Some had been genuine, and some had been for nothing more than shits and giggles. 

Parker, and the nickname Pac-Man, had been serious for you. Parker Anthony. You hadn’t figured out a second middle name to complete the initial acronym of Pac that night, the rosé eventually getting to you, but you had been serious. 

“You were listening that night?” you breathe out, only feeling slightly betrayed, “What the Hell? I thought you said you were going to put your headphones on and listen to some Metallica to unwind after work.”

“I lied,” he cheeses, hot palms against your barren lower back, “I’m nosey. Sue me.” 

“You could have just joined us, Eddie.” 

“And miss the chance to hear you plot out the middle names of our future children?” Eddie snorts, “Not a chance, sweetheart.” 

He says it so casually, you wonder if it’s possible for a heart to burst from optimism. 

“So,” you pause, take a deep breath, feeling the embarrassment creep back up your throat, “Is that, uh…. Is that a yes? That you do think so?”

Why was it so hard to repeat yourself, to just say the words already spoken? 

Eddie had made it clear you had nothing to lose. You two were on the same page. He hadn’t scoffed in your face, he hadn’t even pulled away at the mere mention of the idea. Instead, he had leaned fully into it, head-first as he slid right into the imaginary future with you. He’d given a name to the little girl with his hair and his spunk, to the little boy with his dimples and his mischief. 

Was it still a little too soon, too fast? Was that where the hesitation was born from? 

It just all felt a bit too easy. After the rocky start you two had endured, this entire last year had just felt too simple. 

Of course, even if the hesitation was sitting there in the pit of your stomach alongside all of your anxieties, all of your waiting for the other shoe to drop, Eddie easily soothes it all over as he gives a slow nod and responds, “Yeah. I do – I really do.” 

And you clearly wear your heart on your sleeve, emotions painted across your eyes and cheeks for him to read clear as day, because he notices that catch in your breath.

“Not right now,” he rushes to add on, “I mean, listen, we’re still adjusting to Lestat. I think I’d like to be a cat dad too, before I even think about being a girl dad.” 

“You’re gonna be a girl dad?” you laugh out without thinking, starting to thaw into a conversation that Jack Daniels had begun but you know you can surely finish with Eddie at your side, “That’s… unexpected.” 

His face scrunches for the first time during the entire conversation, “What? You don’t think I’d be a good girl dad? I already deal with my rat’s nest of hair, so I know I’d be at least decent at braiding. And can you imagine getting to take a mini-you to shows, or buying her some cute unicorn helmet once she’s old enough to ride ol’ Nightfury? God, I think I might die from cuteness overload…”

Your cheeks are aching, ears ringing with his words. But all you can do is latch onto one little phrase: mini-you. 

Here you were, picturing duplicates of Eddie bounding around the two of you, and you hadn’t considered what he might be seeing. 

Not a child with his spunk. No, he’s seeing a little girl with your wit. A little boy with your stubbornness. Those eyes of his, nearly resembling heart-shapes at this point, weren’t wanting to see carbon copies of his whiskey irises. He wanted yours to be looking back up at him. 

Hearts clearly can’t burst from an overload of optimism, of happiness. Yours beats wildly as proof, still intact behind your ribs that bloom with rosebuds for the boy pressed to your front. 

“Mini-me?” you murmur, making him trail off, focused entirely on you so sincerely you could choke up. You shake your head, letting out a soft huff of air, smiling down at the ground, “No, I- I think you’ll be an amazing dad, Eddie. I just didn’t…. I just forgot…”

“That I’m with you all the way?” he finishes your sentence for you, one eyebrow arched as he gives a squeeze to one of your hips, “You could decide tomorrow you don’t even want to talk about having a kid ever again, that you’d rather get ten more snakes and live as some sort of cryptic couple somewhere in the Midwest the rest of our lives, and I’d be just as excited. I don’t really care where we end up, sweetheart – I just care that it’s with you,” You can no longer tell if it’s his words or the remnants of alcohol in your system that has you tearing up. All you know is that you are, and it’s ridiculous, but it’s fine, because all you see are dark brown eyes and entire realms of possibility in front of you, “Girl dad, snake dad, cat dad – whatever you need from me, I’m your guy.”

When the first tear falls, you're quick to shoot one hand up to your cheek in order to swipe it away as the other reaches out blindly to smack Eddie softly, “Shut up. Stop being cheesy. I’m too drunk for this.” 

“You’re right,” he nods ferociously, taking over the duty of wiping away your tears without so much as mentioning it, “Wanna make out again instead?” 

You let out a snort, and it eggs him on. 

“Or, hey,” his eyes light up, some of the seriousness of the moment fading naturally, “Maybe we ditch this party and start practicing. You know, in case we still want kids someday.” 

His pupils widen a bit, and you know surely that it’s only half a joke. You don’t miss the way his breathing picks up at the thought.

“Careful, big boy,” you tease, leaning into his feathery touch on your cheek, relishing the way the nickname draws him under your spell even when you aren’t saying it with an ounce of gravity, “It’d be awfully dangerous to get yourself worked up in such short shorts.” 

Saying it outloud almost makes you want to see it, genuinely. 

“Worked up?” he scoffs, backing up a little, caught off-guard, “Who says I’m getting worked up? I’m not getting worked up.” 

It doesn’t matter how many steps back he takes from you, you still follow, your palm still lands dead center on his chest as you roll your eyes, “Right. Because I’m totally meant to believe that the guy who used to jack off to Playboy magazines with girls who looked like me isn’t going to pop a boner at the thought of fucking a baby into me-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Nearly more resembling a bite, his canines digging right into your bottom lip as he pulls you forward and collapses back against the glass door behind him. 

No words are spoken, no subtle interruptions for this kiss. Toying a dangerous line, dancing along a narrow cliff, and he’s the one who’s decided to drag the two of you off of it. 

You don’t mind. You’d follow him to the ends of the world if he asked you to. 

When one of his hands reaches up to your scalp, tugging at the roots of your hair for no other reason than he can, your mouth opens up into a silent laugh. An invitation, a jeer, a challenge. A quiet whisper of go ahead, do it. Consume me already. 

He’s already everything to you. He’s already a definition of home thinly veiled with skin and bones, a future with a heartbeat. 

His tongue down your throat doesn’t change the matter. Just reclaims it. 

A whine is lost in translation somewhere from the back of your throat and right into his cheeks. His right hand wraps around some of the skin of one of your thighs, encouraging it to lift up to his hip, and you can still feel the memory of his usual rings imprinting into your skin. A permanent tattoo, a ghost of a feeling that’ll haunt you for all time – you love it. You want to live there forever, right here in this haunted house, collecting memories and dust of all that he is. 

Haunted houses are only lonely when you’re left to wander these halls all by yourself, and you think he’d truly cross over into the actual afterlife rather than leave you like that. 

The kiss is almost enough to forget where you are and who’s waiting on you inside the apartment. It’s almost enough to have you recreating that fateful night from over a year ago, to let him bend you back over this balcony railing again, and this time, any squeals you let out won’t be of fear. You’d face that fall head on.

His hot hands on your waist, his tongue in your cheek, his knee once again pressed between your inner thighs. Him, him, him-

A sharp rap sounds on the sliding door behind Eddie, and you’ve never jumped apart faster. 

It’s Robin and Nancy at the door, Lestat happily wrapped around Robin’s forearm as she waves and points eagerly to him and Nancy simply crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow as though she might have been a disappointed mother rather than a friend at the moment. 

You done? Robin mouths, exaggerating her silent enunciation. 

As you nod, Eddie only deeply sighs, throwing his head back against the glass with a soft thump. Nancy is quick to throw out a palm against the glass and tap back at him, mimicking swatting him for his theatrics. 

Eddie pays no mind to Nancy’s retaliation, or maybe he just doesn’t see it, as he whines out, “I didn’t even get my cigarette.”

“Oh, cut it out, drama queen,” you snicker, trying to hide all your breathlessness as you fully pull away, “We’ve left our son alone long enough. You can chainsmoke to your heart’s desire once we get back home.” 

You’re already walking towards the door, Nancy and Robin having retreated further into the kitchen, when he catches your wrist to tug you back close to him. He leans down, deliberate and careful to make sure his lips catch against the lobe of your ear, whispering soft as night, “Can’t chainsmoke if I’m too busy fucking a baby into you, sweetheart.” 

It feels like someone’s poured literal fire across your body. As if flames have been dumped over the crown of your head, and are licking their pathway down your spine. 

“Eddie.” 

If you don’t get inside within the next ten seconds, you’re definitely going to make a decision you regret. 

He’s chuckling the entire time he steps around you, opening the door and waving for you to slip inside in front of him. Your entire body is still burning so violently, you barely register the way his fingers hang at his side and make a point to brush the back of your thigh when you pass him. 

Bastard, you want to snipe, but instead you just smile. 

—

The next morning, you’re awoken by the incessant pinging of your phone. 

You try to ignore it at first, burying your head deeper beneath the covers as a headache pulses at the edges of your mind, but after the fifth ping, it becomes impossible. 

“Who the fuck is texting us this early?” Eddie’s muffled voice complains into his pillow, facedown with one arm thrown across you securely. 

You can even feel him kick his bare legs in a show of defiance next to yours at the edge of the bed. If it wasn’t for the late night prior catching up to you, it’d be something sweet to laugh at. 

“What time is it?” you croak, scooching further up the bed, making Eddie’s arm around you only tighten. As if he can stop you from getting out of bed, or delay the inevitable by resisting you checking the phone, “Is it even early?” 

His free arm that had been tucked below his pillow flings out to the bedside table quickly, grabbing blindly for at least one of your phones. It doesn’t really matter if it’s yours or his; he’s got the password to both. 

“It’s eight in the fucking morning,” he curses, seeming more awake as he notices that he was right in it being early. “How in the fuck is anyone up right now? We didn’t leave until nearly three.”

His arm is finally loose enough for you to sit up properly, tugging the comforter with you to keep your bare chest covered, “Lemme see it.” 

“If it’s Harrington, can you post my bail for murder?” 

“You’re not killing Steve,” you nonchalantly reply as you snatch the phone right out of his hand. It had been yours, unsurprisingly. You don’t even know if Eddie remembered to put his own phone on the charger before the two of you had promptly passed out. You hardly even remember how you managed to do so, “But – yeah, it’s Steve.” 

“Fucking Harringt-”

“And Robin. And Jonathan.” 

“Have I mentioned I hate our friends?” 

The fog of sleep has officially lifted for you, and despite the wave of fatigue and aching joints you’d argue you’re far too young to be experiencing right now, you smile at your grumpy boyfriend. He exchanges his pillow for your stomach, shoving his entire cheek tightly to you as his arms wrap around you slowly. Clinging to you like a child, squinting against what little light pours in through the curtains. 

“You don’t hate them,” you murmur, holding the phone in one hand to get a better look at the phone as the other cards through his curls, “You hate mornings.” 

He hmphs in agreement, relaxing against your makeshift scalp massage. 

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A PHOTO OF ME WITH A SNAKE IN THIS CHAT? 

BIRDIE: it is too early to be yelling

DINGUS: oh my bad

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU, ROBIN, SEND A PHOTO OF A SNAKE IN THIS FUCKING CHAT? WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE IS THAT?

You can’t help the gasp that leaves your mouth as you begin to see what the entire commotion was, and Eddie is lifting his head immediately.

“What?” he questions, moving to lift himself up and peer over the top of the phone, nosier than ever, “Why did you gasp? Is someone dead?” 

You scroll up, finding the photo being referred to.

“Not yet.” 

Steve, clearly partaking in another round of karaoke. Eyes glazed over, mid stumble based on the blur. 

“What do you mean not yet?” 

Most impressively, most notably, is the snake around his neck. 

Lestat, without a care in the world, his upper body being cradled by Steve’s palm as your drunk friend appears to be serenading the snake. 

You bite back your smile, eyebrows high as you glance down at Eddie, “You remember when we let Steve sing Taylor Swift while holding Lestat? About… two and a half drinks after he finally noticed we had him, and he didn’t flip out courtesy to all that Absolute vodka?” 

“Oh, fuck me.” 

Eddie flings himself back to the edge of the bed in search of his phone just as another notification pings. 

JOHNNY: I’ll do you one better. I have a video.

You don’t know if you’ve ever watched Eddie excitedly type on his phone faster than he does once he’s read that message, already giggling like a fool long before you can see what he’s sent in the chat. 

LOVER BOY: Johnny, my boy, you can’t just say that and NOT send it.

JOHNNY: Unlike you, I don’t have a death wish. 

DINGUS: WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE WAS IT? IS IT EDDIE’S? 

YOU: i will not stand for this erasure of me as lestat’s mother. 

Eddie snorts and looks up at you with glee as he reads your response, “He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?” 

“Can we be buried next to each other?” you respond with a question instead, looking at him lazily, “We could have matching headstones.” 

“Oh, hell yeah,” his grin is worth whatever Hell there may come to pay with Steve and the Lestat debacle last night, “Should we look up designs or-” 

He’s cut off by the trill ringing of his own phone, watching several messages roll into the groupchat in quick succession. 

DINGUS: who the fuck is lestat?

BIRDIE: the snake, dingus. 

NANCE: As someone who has seen the video… I think Jonathan should send it. 

DINGUS: DON’T YOU DARE

You’re a mess of hoarse giggles, hardly able to look at Eddie for the fear of both of you descending right into a madness of laughter. Like two children staying up too late at a sleepover, the room rings out with all your little noises, Eddie propping up his chin to watch you with the widest of smiles. 

Except you’re not children – you’re just two idiots, in your shared apartment, with your shared snake in the living room and your shared friends blowing up both your phones. 

Mornings have never felt quite as sweet as this kind. 

“We’re gonna hear an earful next time he sees us, aren’t we?” Eddie finally sighs wistfully, rolling over flat on his back, head propped up slightly in your lap. 

“Oh, definitely,” you nod, taking to twirling his frizzed curls around your knuckles this time rather than scratching mindlessly at his scalp, “But who cares? You saw how in love with the snake he was after a few drinks. He’ll come around, sober this time.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut. 

You let the two of you sit in the quiet a bit longer, phones still buzzing with new messages, but the chaos can wait. For now, you just want to drink it in. Rays of vivid sunlight, the silence from the lack of the buzzing AC unit, the birds chirping annoyingly outside the window. You have one foot in relaxation, and one foot in the hangover you know you’ll have to battle once you choose to leave this bed. 

“You know what sounds good?” you question, nearly under your breath. You’re really thinking outloud more than anything, but Eddie still entertains you with a hum in his tired state, “Betty’s.” 

He’s the equivalent of a puppy dog who’s heard the word walk. One second, Eddie Munson is seemingly dead to the world, and the next, he’s perked up entirely. If it wasn’t for his nude state, he’d probably already be out the door with his keys in hand, dragging you right along with him. 

His eyes shimmer despite heavy lids as he asks, “Almond croissants?” 

A small nod, an ever present smile. You recall the conversation from the night before as you look into those deep russet eyes, and you see an entire future of late nights and almond croissants reflected back. 

“Almond croissants.”

[camaelczarka]

Having read Interview With the Vampire years ago (and also having seen the 1994 movie like 100 times), I knew what to expect when the show started leading up to Lestat’s ‘death’. But, I was sort of unprepared for how intense the show made this event. Like, I was anxious watching 1x07. And then when that scene finally happened, I was on the edge of my seat. Totally fucking upset (in a good way) by how they were showing this well known canon event. They gave it such a huge amount of gravity and while they definitely made Lestat “deserve” it more, it was still heartbreaking. Claudia dipping her pen in his blood and then suddenly realizing what they were doing with her collection of last words… holy shit. Such an intense moment.

But upon my recent rewatch, it occurred to me that Louis is still SO not over it even in 2022. And yeah that was kind of obvious from how he reacted to Daniel poking holes in his story and how he loses it. But, even with everything they went over in both seasons, it’s really obvious to me that Louis cannot think about the moment that Lestat died. He can’t recall hearing his last words. We do not hear Lestat say “Mets-moi dans mon cercueil, Louis, Louis” because Louis WILL NOT think about it. He won’t recall it. And it also occurs to me that Louis was probably holding him when he said that and that they were probably also holding hands.

(It’s kinda hard to see but Lestat’s arm is bent here which I hadn’t noticed before)

There are other moments between them that we famously don’t hear, but this one feels a lot more like a mental block than a desire to keep some things between them private. And how did that impact the early days of his traveling with Claudia to Europe? Daniel says that she wrote that she “hated” Louis for a while, but he can’t really face that either and he skips forward in 2x01.

I could be wrong but I kind of doubt we will revisit this moment exactly- then again Lestat could talk about it at some point. But it’s interesting to note that after 2x08, Louis is definitely processing his grief over Claudia and Paul, but maybe hasn’t really processed his guilt and grief about Lestat at all, despite the fact that he knew Lestat was alive for at least the last 80ish years. And dreamstat definitely showed the manifestation of his guilt on occasion, but that was long in the past by the time of the second interview, and he still can’t talk about it.

I’m super curious how he’s feeling about this after the reunion and if it’s something that still bothers him or if he’s made peace with it at any point

[starregulus]

right before louis brought claudia to lestat he was going to leave him. he told lestat "you're going to be alone forvever" (fear of abandonment go brrrr) and walked out the door. Only to come back with claudia and tell him if you turn her I'll never leave you. She'll be our daughter. And Lestat's face at that moment is like "Im gonna have a family. 2 people in my life so I wont feel that feared vampire loneliness" so he turns her

Not only so he can keep Louis but also because the thought of having a daughter as well as Louis was hbdhbhdbfnjdscdbf. And he loves her,. He teaches her to hunt. He teaches her to drive. He teaches her chess and piano. He buys her coffin. Buys her dresses. Like that HIS daughter. And then he realizes that Louis and Claudia can have conversations without him. And he'll never have any idea what they're saying about him (mental illness go brrrrr). And Louis may love Claudia more than him now. His person is gone and now he has to share (which we already know he does not want to do LMAo) And then Claudia leaves. He tells her not to cause vampires out there suck. But he lets her go for whatever reason that we may or may not ever find out. And he has Louis again. Except he doesnt. Because Louis is depresssed that Claudia is gone. Despite that he stays with Louis. Even though Louis is ignoring him and his love languages are not being met. He stays, but he's still alone. blah blah vampire loneliness is the worst thing ever (enter Antoinette; not getting into her). Anyway. Claudia comes back and starts begging Louis to leave Lestat with her. (Claudia hates him by now because Lestat is Lestat and he turned her into a vampire and now she's stuck in the body of a 14 year old forever and it's the worst thingf ever, and also the thing with Charlie)

So anyway Claudia is leaving. And she wants to take Louis with her. His 2 people are leaving him and he's going to be alone again. Eventhough Louis promised him they would stay. That they would be a family. That he would have a family. And he wouldn't be alone. But they're going to leave him. He turned Claudia, saved her life, even though he didn't want to, to prevent this , but now she's taking Louis away from him. So obvioisly, like any sane and rational human being (vampire i guess), he loses his shit and rages and beats the fuck out Louis. As one does ofc when you're a 160 year old vampire. Definitely not evidence of an underlying personality disorder or anything

[avelera]

I’m dying for your thoughts on what is going on in Dubai with the triangulation of Armand and Daniel in Dubai because nothing in 2.05 explain ms what they(beddeath vampires) could want him to tell them as referenced earlier in the season or warrant all the Rashid pageantry. Especially not with how Armand looks at Daniel like he just got home from the wars.

Your takes are exquisite and I’d love to hear them.

Ok, I THINK you're asking what the hell is going on with Daniel and Armand and Louis and the longing looks Armand keeps shooting Daniel and I might be missing some nuance to your question but that is the question I'm gonna answer because I can't stop thinking about it.

Ok. Ok, ok, SO!! The biggest question I think we're facing as of 2.05 is did the Devil's Minion chapter of Queen of the Damned ever happen?

For the uninitiated (LOTS of BOOK SPOILERS but like the books have been out for decades, sorry): Louis/Armand is like... not a thing. At least, it's not one of the big love affairs of the series compared to Louis/Lestat. I mean they've had a situationship but they're definitely not a long devoted love affair going right up to the beginning of the events of Vampire Lestat/Queen of the Damned, which is where the show seems to take place. They traveled together for a bit after the events of Interview with the Vampire but then parted ways because What Happened In Paris changed Louis irrevocably.

The big love of Armand's life in the books is Daniel.

And we learn this in the chapter of Queen of the Damned called the Devil's Minion.

Because Armand stumbles upon "The Interviewer" and falls in love and they have this fucked up whirlwind torrid romance where Daniel teaches Armand about the modern world and basically "how to be fascinating" and Daniel begs over and over to be made into a vampire.

Lots of stuff happens between them but short, TRAGIC version is that Armand does make Daniel into a vampire and it breaks Daniel's mind. He's not a cool powerful vampire once he's turned, he's basically a vegetable, he loses his mind and becomes a hollow husk of himself. (Ironically, insane-new-vampire!Daniel is left in the care of Marius of all people lol)

SO, from the book reader perspective, I shot upright on my couch when I saw old Daniel. Because Old Daniel means we're in... some flavor of happy AU? We're in an AU where Armand did the "responsible" thing and didn't give Daniel the Dark Gift, so Daniel got to grow old and actually be a person instead of being the Devil's Minion where Armand became his whole personality and then he lost his mind.

Thing is, since S1, I've been assuming, like others I think, that we're in an AU where the Devil's Minion didn't happen at all. That Daniel did the interview, he and Louis parted ways, and now he's back to finish it. It seemed neat, clear, if a little confusing for book fans because Daniel/Armand is one of THE great love affairs and it seems like it just got skipped entirely, which kind of makes sense since no other film version has really delved into it, right?

WRONG. OK, so with the longing looks that begin RIGHT when Armand finally reveals himself, the whole mic drop moment of "Armand, the love of my life" while Armand stares at Daniel, almost seeming to plead with his eyes "GET ME AWAY FROM HIM" and looking at Daniel with such longing, going into SEASON 2 where we learn that ok, the 1970s beat was WAY more complicated than it seems, Louis' memory is very faulty, Armand has actively tampered with both of them and we DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH....?

So my current theory is: the Devil's Minion DID happen.

Armand and Daniel had their love affair, but instead of turning Daniel, which by the way he had to be talked into doing because of Daniel's suicide attempt basically, Armand set him free. But CLEARLY he continued to stalk and pine after Daniel, if he was there at Daniel's fucking engagement reading his girlfriend's mind enough to tell Daniel what she was really thinking then. Armand was definitely still OBSESSIVELY IN LOVE. And, IMO, has been the whole time.

Now, what does this mean going forward? What do I think is going on?

Armand wants out of his relationship with Louis but he's chronically, pathologically, incapable of breaking up with anyone. He used Lestat to break up the Children of Darkness, he used Louis to break up the Theatre des Vampires, and now he's using Daniel to end this fucked up marriage he and Louis are in.

Armand is doing this first by consenting to renew the interview, Louis gets a walk down memory lane, remembers how much he loves Lestat. Not to solidify their bond with how good things are now, but to break it up with nostalgia.

Armand is also going to reveal things he's hidden from Louis, I think. Like the fact Armand killed Claudia. I think right now they're both operating under the excuse that Santiago and the coven did it in defiance of Armand but that is simply not true, Armand ordered her death to get Louis all to himself. But (book canon) her death broke Louis so basically Armand destroyed what he wanted in Louis in the gaining of him.

Armand also misses Daniel. He's doing the classic passive lover thing, using the next lover to get rid of the current one. That's why he picked Daniel specifically as the vehicle of his liberation. Boy wants to get white knighted in the most fucked up way possible. Evidence: every single painfully longing, puppy dog look he shoots Daniel's way and how those looks only get more intense the more Louis waxes poetic about how great the Loumand relationship is.

Armand appears as Rashid in order to establish for plausible deniability for Louis that he DIDN'T have a relationship with Daniel OR, if Louis knows about it, that he really did do as promised and wiped Daniel's mind. Look, Daniel doesn't even remember him! When he's standing right there! Pretending to be Rashid! He definitely didn't summon his former lover here to break up Louis and him, obviously this is JUST about Louis' desire to do the interview haha, definitely not trying to bring his old ex to break up his current relationship the guy doesn't even remember who he is.

In conclusion: Armand still wants to fuck that boy old man. And he wants to get rid of Louis by making Louis break up with him because that's how Armand rolls. And that's why this whole ridiculous pantomime is happening, because Armand will never, ever be the active party in the breakup because the boy is way, way too fucked up by his supremely fucked up life up to this point to ever be the initiator. Instead he will always, always manipulate those around him to do what he wants.

[loustat-0]

Rewatching 2x5 for the third time I came upon something that it would be interesting if some of the devil's minion happened more than we know .

The fact that Louis is lying to himself in the 70s that he doesn't want to see Lestat and he's not in love with him and he's just his maker and nothing more . And also in Dubai he tried to interpret his love for Lestat as the bond and the blood connection rather than accepting it on a true love and what he still aches for . He introduced Armand as " the love of my life " because somehow he doesn't have his great love with him anymore and he won't admit to it . He's performing as if he doesn't care much about Lestat both in the 70s and Dubai .

And now let's look at 70s Armand and Daniel looks and the way they talked to Dubai Armand and Daniel looks and conversations . Assuming Armand and Daniel did fall in love with each other and were together for some time / years then Armand is pretending too . Armand is also lying and fooling himself into believing he doesn't care about this guy . All he cares about is Louis now . As long as Louis believes I love him more than this guy or anyone else he would be fine and Daniel would be fine too . But what if he loses his act when something triggering happens to him that he remembers how much he was in love with Daniel ? What if remembering that will hurt him ? And that is why he pretended to be someone else and then he's now pretending to be all in Louis's service and in love with him . But sometimes he cracks open , his feelings become vivid about Daniel . 70s Armand didn't really care about him or if his feelings get hurt or if he was physically in danger . Hell he was the one who made him suffer and wanted to kill him . But now he pities him when he gets heartbroken over his wife rejecting his marriage proposal , he tries to calm Louis ( who is the current love of his life ) under control and asks him to stop , he gets so soft when he's alone with Daniel without Louis's presence , he gets interested and hunter mode when Daniel points to something about the fire in the theater but he doesn't do anything although he can definitely read his mind and know what's Daniel up to .

Armand just like Louis is lying to himself about his true love he's pretending . He's acting as if it's not important but with both Louis and Armand we can when they care when they get irritated and their facade disappears . I'm waiting until old Daniel becomes close to dying so that it finally hits Armand that this time he's definitely losing Daniel and then we see how much he really cares or not about Daniel .

Or is Daniel's parkinson even real ? Or is it what Armand made him believe he has ?

[blacclotusss]

Don't Be Afraid, Just Start the Tape

Starting off strong, I want to discuss the argument between Louis and Armand. This, in my opinion, is where everything fell apart. It's just them going back and forth hitting each other in the jugular and it made me want to rip my hair out just hearing it. I, personally, have always hated when things like that get thrown up in arguments so that's my own personal bias. Just hearing Louis throw back the CSA in Armand's face and Armand throwing Paul's suicide, Grace leaving him, and his history with Lestat back up brought me to tears almost. It really sucks that these two felt that they had to resort to these things, but that's the tragedy of it all.

But, for some reason, I think Armand was more hurt that Louis called him dull and boring. My belief is that it hit harder because being boring and dull to Louis means he goes out to look for more exciting things and people, leaving Armand home all night. He doesn't want to lose Louis and the first ounce of real love that he's experienced, so he was taken aback by that. Louis walking out into the sun wasn't much of a surprise to me, but I think him doing it at that moment was. I would have expected a suicide attempt back in Paris, or even in Dubai, but not in San Francisco. I do understand now that the story has unfolded. 

I think Louis has just had enough of it all, talking about it with Daniel who kind of brushed it off in his intoxicated state and his argument with Armand only fuels that. He wants to be with Claudia, she's the one that he says is calling him, and if dying is how he's going to get to meet her again, then so be it. Now, the whole situation with Armand leaving Louis on that bed to suffer while he begs for relief definitely rubbed me the wrong way. Louis no longer has Claudia to nurse him back to health, as she did when he was dropped, so he has no choice but to rely on Armand and that sucks. Armand is in here torturing Daniel while he leaves Louis to holler and yell for him, that's so messed up. Even going as far as to contact Lestat and relay messages from him to Louis, and omitting some things. The psychological abuse at play here is crazy to think about.

I also want to talk about the power balance that has been discussed as well. Yes, Louis is able to express himself a bit more and in a different way in his relationship with Armand. They have an understanding of each other and what the other needs and their roles and positions switch based on what one needs at that moment. The whole Arun/Maitre thing is really working in Armand's favor more, in my personal opinion. He knows just how to push enough to get Louis to fall in line with that. You can see that towards the end when Armand calls Louis maitre after all he said. He's all of a sudden asking Louis to lead after everything that has happened, after Louis had to beg, and Louis will happily oblige in order to keep the peace between them. I wonder in what other instances has this happened before. We see Louis trying to keep Armand from falling off of the deep end while he, himself, is the one sitting in the coffin burned and charred begging for blood. So curious as to how this will all unfold in the coming episodes, I know Dubai will be a madhouse just as much as Paris. 

Aside from the analysis of relationships and arguments, this episode was amazing. The styling choices in both the filming and wardrobe were superb. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this was Jacob and Assad's first episode they shot. It had to be funny to go from this to all the sweet lovey dovey stuff in the earlier episodes. I want to hear them talk about this more. Also, the SFX makeup was amazing! Much love to everyone involved with that! And it was nice to finally see Luke! He played that part so well. This and episode two are my absolute favorites so far. I wonder what's to come next in Dubai... 

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hey, it's the DM anon. Sorry if I come off as too pessimistic, but I just want to address the reblog post

"Armand in the show doesn't need someone to introduce him to the modern world. He's already familiar with it."

This was kinda the point of my message. The main reason why the Devils Minion chapter is so popular is because it's not just a cat & mouse thriller; it's also a sitcom about a "normal" boy teaching a powerful 500 yr old immortal all about the modern world - the perfect blend of horror & romantic comedy. Logically I always knew that some of the relationship would be cut or altered when they adapted it to the show, but it looks like they're cutting all of the fan favorite scenes. (I will forever be bitter about losing 'Call Paris for me')

My fear is that the writers will change everything that made Devils Minion, Devils Minion. Whatever relationship Armand & Daniel have on the show will be brand new. I may be jumping the gun, but they've already changed the 2 reasons why Armand chose Daniel as his human companion in the first place:

1. He needed someone to teach him about the modern world and as the reblog stated, he no longer needs that. Which means we also won't get my other favorite scene: when Armand drags Daniel out of bed and demands he show him things in the city. He won't need to do that because he will already have explored these cities with Louis

2. He liked that Daniel wasn't afraid to stand up to him. But from everything the show, reviewers, and Eric has told us, '73 Daniel was just a bumbling idiot Yes Man. Where's the challenge?

And now we know that Loumand had several relationships with humans throughout the decades, some of whom got to live out their lives unharmed. So Daniel isn't even special, he's just the latest. Idk how the show expects to sell ArmanDaniel when they've erased everything that made them unique.

I know Assad talked about Armand's fear that Daniel knows Louis more than he does and the reblog thinks that might be the reason Armand falls for Daniel, but I'm nearly positive Assad was talking about Dubai Daniel not SanFran Daniel. The only connection Louis & Daniel seem to have in the 70s is their love of drugs, since one reviewer talked about how they're both fucked up during the first interview. I doubt young Daniel could stay sober long enough to have a meaningful conversation with Louis, let alone a meaningful relationship. So why exactly would Armand be attracted to him? I really hope the writers give us a real reason that's more than just "he likes him in the book. Y'all do the rest"

Anyway, thanks for allowing me to rant

:) All good.

But... I honestly would wait till the season has run. I do trust them when they say episode 5 and 8 are the game changers.

I know it's hard to stay calm when you have waited for so long to see a realization of something at all.

And... I don't think the "you can fuck them and I can eat them" humans (I hope everyone caught that line and that they attributed that to Lestat in s1^^) were anywhere close on the level Daniel will be.

I really don't.

Daniel is definitely special, as the interview in Dubai proves, imho. But... the timeline is different, that's all. Give it some time.

[moongirlllllx]

rant about louis and lestat’s relationship vs louis and armand’s relationship particularly after louis made the promise to stay with him “forever.” obviously lestat was abusive at times in their relationship but louis also emotionally manipulated lestat as well. when he begs lestat to turn claudia threatening him with lestat’s biggest fear of loneliness and abandonment. and he does it again in paris because he knows that’s what will hurt lestat the most. however even in season 1 when louis and lestat’s relationship was deteriorating they were still intimate with each other and it’s clear that their bond is so much deeper than louis’ bond with armand. also i can’t believe people would say armand wasn’t as abusive to louis because he definitely was if not more than lestat. he’s a big part of why the trial happened and claudia’s death, then he goes on to lie to louis about his part in the trial. especially when he edits louis memories that is a crazy level of fucked up manipulation. i feel bad for armand because i know he knows deep down that louis doesn’t love him and he will never compare to lestat or claudia for that matter. the whole dubai apartment is just crazier, it’s like a coffin where louis is powerless and armand builds shelves that louis can’t reach, stressing his power over louis by flying. and then back to the moment where louis says he’s going to be with armand forever, ive been thinking about how lestat maybe genuinely felt so betrayed that he decided to let louis go. poor armand just standing there not knowing if lestat is going to expose his secret. tragic all around. And claudia literally deserves none of this because the whole reasons she exists is because of Louis’ grief over losing his brother and lestat’s fear of abandonment. it truly was never about her. And then she finds someone who cares about her more than anything in the world. And they burn together. Who’s paying my therapy bills?

armand u are deranged and twisted i applaud u

[mirefireflies]

listen okay hear me out ..

claudia is cassandra is a canary in a coal mine..

in new orleans claudia left. twice. she saw the patterns of abuse and tried to warn louis but he didn’t listen. lestat the vulnerable becomes lestat the irritable becomes lestat the controlling, you watch. she knew what would happen because it had already happened before. (the prophet cassandra was cursed to see the future and never be believed.) she tried again and again to warn her people and they refused to listen.

when simply pointing out the pattern to louis isn’t enough, claudia begs him to leave with her, to go to europe, but it isn’t until lestat attacks claudia and slams her into the wall that louis finally seems to wake up, and finally sees the danger they are both in. (a canary was an early indicator of dangerous gasses in a coal mine, when the canary passed out, the workers would evacuate) claudia is louis’ indicator, when she’s in danger, something is wrong

then, during the trial, not only is claudia ignored by the crowd whenever she tries to speak out, she is actively —painfully— silenced by the coven. her mind is fogged and crushed in a vice. her ankles are cut to stop her from running, or even standing at all, and though the allusion to slavery is clear, it’s also reminiscent of the way that birds will have their wings clipped to stop them from flying away.

and that’s not even going into how claudia is explicitly compared to birds multiple times. because you are built like a bird, because you are a mistake. the entirety of the baby lu play in all its awful foreshadowing. tweedily deedily dead.

but she goes out fighting, with her head held high. and she warns the audience that she will have her vengeance in one way or another. i now know all your faces. cassandra faces her own death calmly, secure in the knowledge that she will have her revenge, that agamemnon will be brutally murdered only moments after herself. and though she might not know it yet, claudia will similarly be avenged by louis. but despite her constant defiance, when the time comes, claudia too is calm. she comforts madeleine in the moments before the end, and she holds her even as she is burning too.

claudia and cassandra are alike in so many ways it genuinely makes me lose my mind. they are both raped and brutalized, mocked and ignored. they are both taken from their homes, turned into something unnatural against their will, given a blessing that is really a curse and then punished for being ungrateful. their makers are their abusers and the worst part of being cursed is that it turns them into a reflection of their maker.

the tragedy of girls who see too much.. whose warnings are forever ignored… who cannot escape their fate even when they see it coming.. who are killed for reasons that have nothing to do with them..

and claudia’s death is what finally, definitively proves to louis that he is in a dangerous situation in paris. of course, he also suffers at the hands of the coven, but he himself says that he was more worried about claudia, calling for her in the restaurant, desperate for any sign that she was alive when they first get captured, fighting not to be taken away from her at the end of the trial. in losing claudia, he loses his sense of danger, of self preservation. he goes mad in the graveyard, and plans his own death while planning his vengeance. she was an early warning sign, but more than that, she was his guiding light. and daniel sees this and invokes claudia to get through to louis, to finally make him see the truth about armand’s involvement in her death. you were supposed to die with claudia. if he doesn’t remember the realities of her death then he cannot see the warning signs and so once again, claudia saves him.

and, of course, she dies in a canary yellow dress.

[sarahowritesostucky]

The fic: Lestat lands the Superbowl halftime show gig

November, 2024: Death Valley

Louis sprays his mouthful of blood halfway across the dinnertable when he sees the headline on his tablet:

"Lestat de Lioncourt, self-professed 'vampire', vows to 'eat one lucky fan' at his upcoming Death Valley concert."

Louis isn't able to get tickets, as they're all sold out.

He pays a scalper an exorbitant fee (like, $9,000 for a $900 ticket) and a meet and greet pass.

He attends the concert and is annoyed, amused, astounded, impressed, and completely not surprised by how ostentatious Lestat is in his performing.

There's a fucking hurdy gurdy player in the band: It's Lestat. He incorporates it in one of the songs. It is friggin metal.

He plays the electric violin in another song.

The "lucky fan" who won the contest to get eaten comes up on stage and the entire crowd watches as Lestat drinks his blood.

Everybody but Louis thinks it's a mere performance, and they cheer.

Louis just smirks and shakes his head in wry amusement at the sheer audacity of it.

Hello, Mon Cher, Louis hears in his head.

Everybody but Louis thinks the fan is faking going limp, and then being dead. Two of the tour's crew come up and carry the body off stage.

Lestat doesn't bother wiping his blood-smeared mouth before he moves onto singing his next song: Pretty Baby. The whole time, he's staring at Louis.

Louis attends the meet and greet. He and Lestat entertain themselves by pretending they don't know one another and are just groupie and idol in front of all the other fans in line for the meet and greet.

Louis takes home a glossy headshot of The Vampire Lestat, signed: To my biggest fan and favorite Fledgling, Lestat D. L.

February, 2025: the New Orleans Superdome

Lestat beats out Taylor Swift for top Spotify artist of 2024. The Swifties begin a feud with The Fledglings (Lestat's fans).

Lestat books the 2025 Superbowl halftime show gig--which is going to be played at the New Orleans indoor Superdome.

Louis purchases himself an entire box for the Superbowl--to the tune of $300,000.

Lestat uses the cloud gift and the fire gift during the show. Everybody except for Louis--and the very confused stadium staff who definitely didn't rig up a lift wire for this performance--thinks it's just an act with really good special effects.

Late, after the game and after everyone has cleared out, Lois finds Lestat in the losing team's deserted locker room --eating the star quarterback.

"Mon Chere," Lestat says, pulling back with a red chin to smile at Louis. "Care to join me? There's enough for two."

Louis snickers and tells him no thank you. "That's Taylor Swift's boyfriend," he says, amused.

"I know," Lestat says gleefully, then goes back to feeding.

"Of all the things you could've done to bring the rage of the world down upon you." Louis drawls. "The Swifties aren't going to be very happy."

Feel free to use this fic imagine if you want! And tag me in the post if you write it--I'd love to read it!

[cannibalspicnic]

Maybe a hard question, but do you have an episode you like above all others?

This is actually not a hard question for me. My favorite is Don't Be Afraid, Just Start the Tape. It might be hard to pinpoint a second favorite, and I have a lot of love for all the eps, particularly in season 2, but Don't Be Afraid, Just Start the Tape stands a little above the rest.

The only downside to it, is no Claudia, but that does help relieve some of the dread that builds up in season 2 for anyone already familiar with the story. Which for me, at least let me lose myself in some of the funnier moments.

First off, Daniel and Louis are HILARIOUS together in 1973. They're both such giant fucking nerds, and I LOVE it. Daniel asking him to "do the fang thing again" is adorable, and Louis ranting (I can only assume he'd already been feeding off a coke fiend before running into Daniel, with the way he goes off) about Lestat. This man has been waiting decades to bitch about his ex, and he's having the time of his life.

Then the Louis/Armand fight is just UGH, I wanna cut that scene up and snort that myself because that was some GOOD SHIT. Both of them going below the belt was so funny and also really great insight into how their marriage has been going since Louis' Lestat-driven spite proposal. And if it wasn't great enough on its own, the fact that Daniel and Louis are awkwardly sitting there listening to that fight together really makes it.

Even Louis groaning from the next room as Daniel is being tortured into some psychosexual issues that have most likely followed him for life is just *chef's kiss*. And then Louis saving Daniel and giving him a crispy pep talk is very sweet and kinda cemented the friendship between him and Daniel. A friendship that is so so important to me for some reason.

PLUS, it sets up Devil's Minion pretty nicely if you ask me. I think Armand would definitely follow Daniel around after that, and with his relationship with Louis being so strained at that point, it would make sense that he would even fall into an actual affair that he kept secret from Louis.

And then the end is so funny and perfect with Armand walking in from lunch with the shades and the smile. Ugh, I wanna watch it again right now.

Thanks so much for the ask!

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

Season 1 episode 6 [Like Angels Put In Hell By God] - part 2/2

- [Louis] "It was an awkward time, but I loved Claudia with all my heart, and I loved Lestat with a wounded one." - better a broken heart than no heart at all, as my Doctor would say.

- Hey, looook, estranged Father and estranged Daughter finally agreeing on something! All for the sake of Daddy, yeah, but still.

- Okay, but if Antoinette is dead, that means no Antoine during Prince Lestat… Unless Lestat is lying again. Which would make things Awkward if they do adapt Prince Lestat and follow that plotline.

- Love Louis playing mediator between his husband and his daughter. Honestly seeing myself trying to mediate between my violently divorced parents and my siblings who have each chosen their side. Fun times all around.

- Love that they sleep in the same coffin, though. Healing!!

- Aaaaw, a Nicki mention! Love Claudia's proxy jealousy, all for the game and the hatred.

[Lestat] "Nicki passed on after he and I parted ways. Took me a century to try again." - you know what, I am now firmly in support of the timeline change. Love the fact that it took a century for Lestat to love again, instead of a decade like in the book. That's my kind of star-crossed doomed romance jam.

- Ah, yep, there it is, not very dead Antoinette. Good job, Lestat. That's definitely not going to come back and bite you in the neck. "There's no place for me other than New Orleans." - 'Stat, chéri, explain to me how you think this is all going to work out in your mind.

- [Louis] "What difference would it make?" - resignation is not a good look on you, Lou baby.

- [Louis] "The numbness remained, hardened somehow into a dissociative shell, a vessel of acceptance, tortured rationalisation." - and here comes the depression with the steel chair…

- Claudia my queen, you deserve so much better.

- [Louis] "Hey sis! You don't need me. You think you do, but you don't. You're smarter now. You see trouble coming a mile away." - excuse me while I sob my heart out. Yes I know how it goes, but please give me that one moment of hope and love before turning it back to hatred and despair.

- [Louis] "But it was 1939, and the only Negro allowed in first class was the porter, and the Negro passenger rode the rear. The Negro vampire made do with what was left, which was fine with her." - oh, hello social commentary. We haven't had much of that in the past couple of episodes. Which is a shame, the 30s are such a rich and ripe decade… But I guess vampire emotional drama takes precedence over sociology.

- [Louis] "'This is the part of my story, back in San Francisco, where you said, and I paraphrase, 'Give it to me. Make me a vampire now'.' [Daniel] 'In the eyes of a 20-year-old, you were wasting the gift.' [Louis] 'You're in your 20s, Rashid. What do you think?'"

More like 520s, but potatoes, tomatoes, I guess. Their little roleplay continues to entertain me when things become too heavy.

Also I just love the serenity of this scene. The sun shining through one window, the others veiled, and the muezzin's call in the background, that's the afternoon prayer, I think, given the slant of the sun rays , the last one before night. It's a such a perfect moment. And Daniel's feeling his meds kicking up, he's starting to go under, but still bitchy and sassy.

- [Daniel] "'And divorce. And die. Save it for the rent boy.' [Rashid/Armand] 'May I be excused, Mr du Lac?'" - I wonder what made Armand react like that; to be called a rent boy, or to be reminded of Daniel's fragility and the fact that he keeps rejecting the gift, maybe in an echo of their affair in the 70s and 80s? I will die on this hill, Devil's Minion did take place between the San Fran and the Dubai interviews, and Armand ran away because he got scared of losing Daniel and both didn't want to go through the giving of the gift. But anyway, look at his face there, he's gutted. In that very subtle Armand way.

- [Louis] "If I was to join Dante's wood of the Self-Murdered, it would be another night." - it's killing me that I have to say this, but Lou sweetie, maybe put down the books for a moment and seek some help. (Me at myself: oh, like you're doing, maybe? Shush, we're talking about Louis, not me)

- [Lestat] "Germany's invaded Poland"- and history inviting herself back in the narrative through the big door.

[Louis] "'Since when do you care about humanity?' [Lestat] 'Well, I don't. But to think our sister, impulsive tot that she is, was on her way to holiday in Europe. I'm so glad she decided the better of it.'"

Sometimes this show reminds you with a big slap to the face that one of its main genre is indeed horror, including psychological horror. Ooof, that shrill music as the camera pans to the rest of the living room and Claudia sitting there panicked and then Louis's terrified face… Chilling. Oh, and Lestat making his way in the train, some more horror for us. Fantastic. I love it so much. And the music here…

- You know what is one of the worst part? Lestat is not wrong. Claudia leaving would lead to Louis walking into the sun, and Lestat absolutely cannot have that.

- And here begins the murder planning… And hello, social commentary. The fact that Claudia's argument is that she and Louis are Lestat's "slaves", given their race and history… Oh, this is going deep. Very, very deep. Claudia's playing three dimensional chess while Lestat is still parading around.

- The way she corners him in that chess game. While she's having an absolutely mind blowing mental conversation with Louis… Brilliant. Chilling. Claudia my queen you deserve everything good in the universe and your parents don't deserve you at all. And Lestat losing his mind as she refuses to finish the game, because now he's finally understanding that he's about to lose it all…

- [Louis] "We were going to kill Lestat. We were going to kill Lestat." - love how Louis repeats that, as if it's the first time he's saying it out loud for what it is.

- Oooh, hello and welcome to the 70s! Just the music choice has me vibrating out of my skin.

Louis's hairdo in '73 is glorious. And also his game at picking up boys.

[Louis] "I have an accent?", says the King of languages and accents.

[Louis] "I have what you're looking for. High quality. Befitting a man of my tastes." - the fact that he could equally be talking about drugs, sex or a story… Lou babe, you've become dangerous.

[Daniel] "'Are you a narc?' [Louis] 'I'm a vampire.' [Daniel] 'I want to interview you.'"

And thus came into being the grand vampire revolution. At least in the books. Pretty sure if Louis had known what he was setting in motion with his picking up a reporter boy in a gay bar in San Fran, he'd have run all the way over to South America instead of going to that room in Divisadero.

- Man, Danny took one look at that gorgeous black guy saying he's a vampire and said "I wanna tap that in every way possible".

Oh hello there Rashid. Lmao. Love the fact that Armand still wears his brown contacts in Daniel's dream memory, because memory is a monster and Daniel doesn't even know what he's remembering.

- Sam Reid's voice is exquisite, I cannot wait to see what Daniel Hart is going to do with Rockstar Lestat…

episode 1 | episode 2 | episode 3 | episode 4 | episode 5 | part 1 | episode 7

[dykesynthezoid]

Love thinking about Armand’s calculated, cold anger, he is so special to me… ppl have rightly pointed out that he doesn’t appear to “lose control” in the same way Lestat does, that there’s something very deliberate and meticulous about the way he handles those emotions.

And I think it’s hard to express, as someone who also handles emotions in a similar way (although waaaaay healthier and less destructively, lol, thank god), where that line between in control and out of control actually is. Where the anger goes from hot to cold. How deliberate the harm is.

Like, my anger is very calculating. I know what it feels like to be fighting with someone and to feel my mind sort of— pushing at weak spots. To be dialing in on exactly the most devastating thing to say, bc in the moment I am feeling so hurt that some part of my brain, even against my will, has started piecing together how to do the most harm back.

And like. Luckily I’m an emotionally mature enough person that I know if I get to that point, I should a. Not fucking say what I’m thinking and b. Just leave, literally get away, before I say something I’ll regret on impulse. But Armand is not working with the tools I have, lol.

The line of how conscious that calculation actually is can be really interesting. Armand doesn’t appear to just be lashing out for the sake of it— But in a way, he is? It’s just all filtered through this very meticulous lens, this incredibly tight grip he has on himself. It’s all so natural to him— The harm (in this episode!) is deliberate, yes, in that at least some part of him means to do harm; but the calculation is likely occurring to an extent without him even thinking about it. Bc it’s just how his brain works.

And he is also so clearly Activated throughout the entire thing; like he is very much in a state of reactivity. He isn’t thinking clearly. His nervous system is on the fritz. It’s just his version of that still appears very controlled from the outside, because he’s had to become so good at controlling himself and masking his responses.

(There also are probably some layers of dissociation happening there! Like, structurally, in his brain. It seems like he’s definitely got different Emotional Parts locked off from one another.)

[koalem]

Loustat/ Ever After: A Cinderella Story / omegaverse /au

After the death of the omega Louis' father, his mother, facing the danger of losing the Pointe du Lac family's riches, marries the rich alpha merchant Tom Anderson who has an omega daughter named Antoinette. Louis' relationship is poisoned by his stepfather and his adoptive sister, this is worsened when Louis' brother dies, being Louis blamed by his mother and separating them definitively. Years after Louis' mother dies, Louis begins to live by Tom's command, as a servant in his own house being harassed by the alpha Santiago who wants him as a husband.

Lestat tries to escape his responsibilities as a prince, by trying to flee by stealing a horse from Louis' home who manages to stop him by throwing a rock at him, realizing that he hit the prince, this event unites their destinies, meeting a second time(and more times) when he tries to save one of his friends from prison because of a debt, by pretending to be a rich nobleman who came from abroad to pay the debt without Tom knowing that Louis is secretly keeping money.

Attracted to each other and the coincidences of their encounters, Louis and Lestat begin to meet in secret, sharing a sweet love in which Louis continues with the falsehood of being a nobleman, whose love will be put in danger by the jealousy, greed and fury of Antoinette, Tom and Santiago.