#the soul strategist

[youtubemarketing1234]

In this grounded and practical video, I'll teach you how to understand how your intuition works and how you can start to connect and trust it. Let's deep dive into the video and learn 3 things you need to know about intuition.

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Intuition is a feeling in your gut when you instinctively know that something you are doing is right or wrong. Your intuition is different from your instincts in the sense that your instincts are correlated to your natural physical behavior whereas your intuition is linked with your processes. Having intuition is when you have a quick insight into something without relying on reason. You almost already know the answer to something when you have intuition.

Intuition is the inner teacher. It's an inner garden system that will direct you to words your purpose and your highest protentional. It's an inner garden system that is not of the mind. So that is why any hard to explain or understand fully trust. Because it doesn't necessarily make sense to your rational, analytical mind.

Intuition vs Instinct: Intuition vs Instinct is completely separate things. They are interconnected and they do work together. But they are not the same thing. Your instinct is a survival mechanism a very much realize fear. Its purpose is to keep you alive and keep you safe. Your intuition however is much deeper within yourself. It's a guided system that is linked to your growth. It's intended to help you grow on the soul level. So it's not about survival, it's not about being safe. It's about guiding you in the direction of whatever most survey you in this lifetime.

Intuition Blocks: The main thing that blocks intuitive knowing is the belief system we hold about ourselves, about the world, and about what is possible. The more we can start to sufficiently through the belief system orphan up to a deeper knowing the more we can access our intuition and trust development.

Intuition Development: The purpose of your intuition is to help you grow so in order to do that lifetime it'll guide you to worth to people the opportunities of the place that will connect with what you already know but push you that little step.

[reallytoosublime]

Personal responsibility and inner growth are interconnected aspects of human development that contribute to one's overall well-being and fulfillment. They involve the recognition and acceptance of individual agency, the acknowledgment of one's role in shaping their own life experiences, and the commitment to continuous self-improvement.

"Find out more" : www.chahigginson.com/heartscaping

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Personal responsibility refers to the understanding that individuals have control over their actions, choices, and consequences. It encompasses taking ownership of one's decisions, behaviors, and attitudes, as well as being accountable for the outcomes they create. Personal responsibility involves a shift from a victim mentality, where external factors are blamed for one's circumstances, to an empowered mindset, where individuals recognize their ability to influence and shape their lives.

Inner growth, on the other hand, refers to the process of self-discovery, self-awareness, and personal development. It involves a deep exploration of one's values, beliefs, strengths, weaknesses, and emotions. Inner growth is a lifelong journey encompassing various aspects of life, including intellectual, emotional, spiritual, and relational dimensions. It involves gaining insights, learning from experiences, and evolving as a person to reach one's full potential.

Exploring personal responsibility and inner growth is essential for several reasons. Firstly, it empowers individuals to become active participants rather than passive observers. It cultivates a sense of agency and autonomy, enabling individuals to make conscious choices aligned with their values and goals. By embracing personal responsibility, individuals develop a greater sense of control over their circumstances and can proactively shape their lives.

Personal responsibility and inner growth are intertwined processes that contribute to personal well-being and development. By embracing personal responsibility, individuals empower themselves to shape their lives and take control of their choices and actions. Inner growth, through self-reflection and self-improvement, leads to personal transformation, increased self-awareness, and a deeper sense of fulfillment. By exploring these aspects, individuals can cultivate a greater understanding of themselves, enhance their relationships, and live more purposeful and meaningful lives.

[sskk-manifesto]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[fateandloveentwined]

so apparently the magnetic force of chu wanning's two souls merging together was what ripped the flower in mo ran apart.

-- this is the coolest explanation i've ever heard kudos to meatbun gosh i love her.

[shiroselia]

Forget absolutely fucking everything the real reason why I'm giddy about writing the last arc of QuintSum is because it means I get to push my "Alex is the leader of the soul riders" agenda to its Absolute fucking peak

[allhopesforlove]

Farewell, my love

Summary: In the midst of a battle, y/n realizes that their only way to victory would be through her sacrifice. Determined with her decision to lead an army of soldiers to the frontlines, there was nothing that could hold her back. Because she was sure that if she continued living on she wouldn’t survive any more of what was blooming between Elain and Azriel.

Pairing: Azriel x reader, Azriel x Elain

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Angst, self-hate (idk tbh pls forgive me)

part 2 part 3

———————

“Someone has to lead them to the frontline to allow an opening for us.”

Freezing, thats all she felt. Her blood stopped rushing and burning in her veins, no sound and no pounding. Just a serene calm washing over her as she let the wind breeze through her blood and mud smeared hair. Ah, she thought, this is it, this is where it all ends. She was aware. She thought all of them were aware of what would happen to the group taking responsibility to charge full on towards Hybern’s forces. Without a doubt, she decided, she would do it. No second thought. It had to be her.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and opened her eyes to only see what made her take the decision of bringing an end to all of it herself.

There, in all of the chaos, in all of the war afflicted damage around them, in all the sorrow and pain, in all the helplessness and suffering, there, she only saw those hazel golden eyes. Those eyes she saw before sleeping and waking up when morning came. Those eyes she was mesmerized by, eyes that always managed to take away all the pain in mere seconds, eyes that made the pounding in her head stop, eyes that promised hope.

Though, they were the eyes that never seemed to look at her, lingering at the doe brown eyes of the one he was cradling to his chest.

In all her 458 years of living, only three times she saw his eyes filled with such worry. The first being when Mor was captured. The second being Rhys’ sacrifice to keep Velaris safe from Amarantha’s wrath. And the third, well the third time was the moment he realized that they actually might not be able to win this war. And that he possibly could lose her.

The ringing in her ears stopped and her vision became clear again, as the sight made her decision final, brought her back to the reality they all were facing now.

“Rhys.. are you aware of what you are suggesting right now.. this.. fuck.. this is a whole on suicide mission..”

silence passed through and then in an almost hushed but assertive voice

“I know, Cassian. I am .. god I am aware. However, this is the only way we could outmaneuver them. We are already outnumbered as it is.”

And the warlord knew. Hell, he might be the best strategist his court ever had. With all his experiences over the years as a general of the Night Court, with all his knowledge, he knew that what Rhys was saying may be their only shot at victory. But he was in denial, because it had to be someone amongst them as they barely stood in a circle. All of them carrying wounds of different degree.

He looked over towards Mor’s blood smeared face supporting Emerie with her left arm, as the latter took a deep blow on her right wing. He winced at that as he knew how sacred wings were to them. He felt for Emerie in that moment, but was brought back by a soft voice, he might have not heard if he didn’t focus just enough

“Its just as I have seen… it wasn’t this clear, but, but I think I saw how this will go, which is why I agree with what Rhysand is saying.”

Its not that she was the first person who spoke up after Rhys’s declaration or the thoughts everyone else was too scared of to voice besides Cassian, that surprised y/n. It also wasn’t that Elain saw a vision and didn’t tell a soul about it, well other than besides maybe the one at her side looking at her as if he already knew of this assertion.

No, what surprised y/n was the one second Elain blinked over at her, a mere glance that made y/n’s blood boil again. A second which confirmed that it was obviously her that Elain saw. And what more was that Azriel probably knew, he probably knew and didn’t care to tell her. The shadowsinger did all but not dare to look her in the eyes, strengthening his grip around Elains waist and kicking some imaginary stones on the ground.

It made y/n sure in her decision. It had to be her, with all that was left of her, she had to be the one to do it. She knew it, Elain knew it and, this she wasnt sure of, but Azriel too probably knew it.

Without dwelling too much on what consequences Elains silence on her vision brought to them, Rhys was determined that it had to be him. It was his duty as their High Lord, as the most powerful being in all of Prythian, as a father to his beautiful child, as a devoted man to his only High Lady and as a loyal brother and friend to his circle, to the people of Prythian. Maybe this way, he would finally be able to forgive himself for all that he has and has not done, maybe this way he could finally stop the storm that was still alive inside of him.

With one final decision he looked over his circle, the people who were closest to him, for whose happiness he would even sacrifice himself

“Cassian, you and Amren will go over to Summer’s side, I already informed Thesan. You will lead our men from the right side at my command, after I charge with all the men left at our side-“

“You will what?!” He felt Feyres fury burning through him, “Absolutely not Rhysand, you will do no such thing!”

“Feyre, darling, there is no other way, I love you and I love our son so much that I am willing to pay this price so that all of you can-“

“You can go to hell with all of that bullshit-“

“That was kinda the plan”

“Shut up, this is no time to joke! Tell Thesan we have a change of plan! No one is going to play the sacrificial lamb, we will find another way.”

But there was no other way, y/n was sure of that, as was Elain. As the pair still continued to bicker, y/n glanced over to the shadowsinger, just to, maybe, she didn’t know, but all she ever wanted was for him to see her. Maybe it was a too wishful thought, maybe she was too naive to believe that in her possibly last moments he would finally spare her a glance. Because deep down she already knew that she was undeserving of his attention, undeserving of all his affection and love.

He deserved someone like Elain, someone who even in her darkest moments didn’t break, someone strong like her, someone whose softness and calmness was serenity to his soul. Unlike her own pathetic self waddling around the Shadowsinger to get his attention for decades only to exchange mere friendly gazes and words that she decided she was content with. But still, even for all that she was, she was thankful of one thing.

Loving Azriel.

Even if it plagued her and drove her mad at times, she was thankfuk that she got to love him at least from a distance. That she got to experience all the perfection that is all Azriel. From his soft dimples that appeared when Cassian was being his silly self to his inspiring determination to win a brawl. Or, she remembered, his calming voice that still brought chills to her when thinking of it. She hadn’t really heard what he said to her because all that she was focused on was the way Azriels lips were moving, accompanied by that voice that made all of her being tremble. That made her heart flutter faster and her face a little redder.

Oh, how she loved these little moments she had with him, these few minutes she had him all to herself until someone else got his attention.

In those moments she allowed herself to dream, she made herself believe that Azriel too looked at her with a lovers gaze, lied to her heart that he too wanted her. But reality always hit, whenever it was that Mor, and in recent years, Elain walked into the room. Reality was brutally honest which is why she never dared to take the next step, she knew her place.

Or maybe she was just a coward, because y/n knew, she knew the shadowsinger rejecting her would hurt more than what she had with him now. She’d rather love him from a distance without his knowledge than make a fool of herself and risk never seeing him again.

With one final gaze towards her Shadowsinger, she sighed and finally spoke up:

“It wont be any good to just argue and waste our time. Someone clearly has to do it and to be frank I think it would be the wisest if it was me-“

“y/n no-“

“Please just listen to what I have to say Mor. I have trained for decades with Cassian and the shadowsinger, I know how to lead an army and I know my way with the soldiers. Sending Rhysand, Cassian or really any of you guys there would be the dumbest decision. We need you at the back, the people need you. And besides, we have to be honest with ourselves… all of you, well not all of you, but you have to understand that you all eventually would want to have your own families”

she glanced over at her friends, Emerie and Mor, Cassian, Feyre and Rhys

“a bright future I can see right before my eyes”

and finally at Azriels and Elains direction.

“It would be unfair for me to keep living on when you all have already found the person you want to spend the rest of your lives with and frankly-“

“That doesn’t make you any less deserving of living though.”

There goes her shadowsinger, mindful of others as always. He was scowling and panting as if he was holding off words that suffocated him. This bewildered look on his face made her heart clench but she had to step in before he could say anything more.

So she dared to look him in his eyes and with all her strength she mustered up her coldest stare she had

“You dont get to decide a thing on my life shadowsinger.”

Silence. And then

“You won’t get anywhere by trying to talk me out of it. We are already wasting so much time as it is and I have already made up my mind. I will lead them.”

Azriel wanted to say more, to tell her and convince her that it should not be her, that she still had so much left to do with her life. He remembered a time before the war, before everything, when they sat together after a training session and just talked about anything and everything. They weren’t the closest friends, no, but y/n was someone he trusted and whose company he enjoyed.

On that specific day she told him of how she dreamed of seeing the colbalt blue sea, how she wanted to just spend all day in flower fields and enjoy all the types of flowers Spring had to offer or see the enormous libraries that resided in the Day Court. She wanted to travel all of Prythian and beyond and she told him with such glee that the memory of it almost made him step forward and volunteer to take y/n’s place.

But a squeezing hand pulled him back from his thoughts. He looked down towards his hands and saw a mismatch of two clasping hands. His own scarred ones and Elain’s. His beautiful Elain.

And he remembered all the promises he made her just before this, how he would finally propose to her despite what opinions Rhysand had, how he would give her anything she asked of him.

He looked her in the eyes, although teary, she looked at him as if she was determined. She wouldn’t let him take that step forward, and frankly, he was flattered by her reaction. He finally had someone looking after him and caring for his wellbeing. Although he hadn’t dared to show all of him to her, he was content that Elain accepted him the way he was.

Elain loved him for who he was, well, for those parts she only knew of. But that was enough for him, because thats more than anyone has ever offered him.

He smiled at her and although he didn’t want to look, he turned his head back to y/n’s direction. He saw that she was arguing with the other’s, but a sudden ringing in his ears prevented him from hearing anything that was being said. The only thing he was aware of was his heart thumping faster and faster by the second and suddenly he heard another heartbeat.

It was like everything around him vanished, muffled voices and a blurry vision. And an intense smell of warm floral notes, but it wasn’t Elains, no.

Suddenly all he could feel was a deep rooted longing, similar to the one he had been feeling all those years, and fear. So much fear it nearly made him fall to the ground. He was confused. What was happening to him?

Unbeknownst to him he tightened his grip around Elain’s hand which made her wince

“Azriel are you okay?” Her voice brought him back and he tried to find the words for what has just transpired but Mor’s sudden cry made him look at y/n’s direction again

“Please dont do this y/n, please, I can’t lose you, I can’t lose my sister, someone… just someone please help.”

While Emerie , also with tears in her eyes, tried to calm her, something inside Azriel made him anxious and panic. It felt like those moments where he was on the brink of an anxiety attack, and his heart was racing so fast he felt like he was going to puke.

And this time, when he looked at y/n she was right looking back at him with wide eyes. And there, although small, he could see the first golden fibers of what seemed to be forming into one string connecting him with her.

———————

Part 2 Part 3

A/n: Ahh this was my first time writing ever 😭 I hope you guys enjoy it. Also, I would love some feedback :) Make sure to tell me if you’d like another part 🫶🏼

[connorsui]

In the Quiet Afterhours

Zayne x reader

Synopsis: In the quiet of afterhours, you and zayne find solace in the intimacy of simple acts of care, your love unspoken yet deeply felt through the tenderness of shared moments.

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, silence of intimacy, zayne wanting to drown himself in your warmth, you are the light in this manz life, no warnings tho …zayne has suffered enough

note: I just wanna take care of him...like plz let me give my man his needed care..

w.: 1,180

There was, perhaps, no greater feeling than the quietude of love that existed in those moments where words fell away, leaving only the hum of companionship to bind two souls together. Zayne had always been a man of few words—practical in his pursuits, level-headed in his judgments, and ever the picture of self-possession. Yet, beneath that stern exterior, there was a tenderness reserved solely for you, a tenderness that revealed itself not in grand gestures or fervent declarations, but in the subtleties of shared moments, and the warmth of a gaze lingering far longer than propriety might allow.

This evening was no different, save for the weariness etched into his fine features, the faint shadows under his hazel-green eyes telling the tale of a long day spent in service to duty. He returned home as he always did—quietly, with little fanfare, his shoulders still squared despite the obvious weight that pressed upon him. And yet, when his eyes found yours, there was a softening in his expression, the firm lines of his brow relaxing as though the sight of you alone was enough to ease the burdens he carried.

"Welcome home," you murmured, the warmth of your voice drawing him nearer.

"Hello, love"

Zayne, ever pragmatic, offered a small nod, but it was the way his hand rose to brush a stray lock of hair from your cheek that spoke volumes more than any pleasantry could. There was an intimacy in that touch, in the way his fingers lingered against your skin as though reluctant to part, as though you alone were the balm to his tired soul.

He said little as you coaxed him toward the shower, his resistance nonexistent, for he had learned, in these quiet moments, to let you care for him. It was a remarkable thing, this unspoken understanding between you—a partnership built on the most delicate threads of love, trust, and respect. You, in turn, had come to know that behind Zayne’s pragmatic exterior was a man who cherished the simplicity of your presence, a man who allowed himself to be vulnerable only when the world outside had no claim on him.

The warm cascade of water was a gentle relief, steam curling in the air as you worked the soap into your hands, your fingers gliding over his tense shoulders. The muscles beneath your touch, though firm, betrayed a quiet exhaustion, and as you began to wash him, you could feel the faint tremor of relief in his body, the tension slowly unraveling.

He closed his eyes, his lips parting in a near inaudible sigh, and for a moment, he was not the stoic officer, nor the pragmatic strategist. He was simply Zayne, a man who found comfort in your touch, in the way your hands moved with careful precision over his skin, tracing the curves and lines that you had come to know so intimately.

In another’s eyes, this scene might have seemed mundane, but there was an indescribable beauty in the familiarity of it all—a beauty that lay not in grandiose acts of affection but in the quiet devotion with which you attended to one another. It was a love that needed no embellishment, no flowery language to justify its existence, for it was rooted in something far more profound.

When your hands drifted lower, the soap lathering between your fingers, Zayne’s eyes fluttered open, and there it was again—that look of quiet reverence that always seemed to accompany his gaze when it fell upon you. It was not the gaze of a man merely admiring your physical form, but the gaze of a man rediscovering you anew each time, as though the sight of you was enough to set his soul alight in ways words could never adequately express.

He said nothing, but the faintest upward curve of his lips betrayed him. “Spoiling me again?” he murmured, his voice low, teasing in a way that would have seemed foreign to anyone but you.

“And why shouldn’t I?” you replied softly, smiling as your hands worked the soap along the lines of his body. “You work so hard... At least let me take care of you.”

There was a moment, brief yet timeless, where Zayne’s eyes softened even further, the weight of his exhaustion giving way to something deeper, something far more tender. It was in these moments that you truly understood the depth of his affections. He would never speak them outright, for it was not his nature to indulge in the overt declarations that many sought in love. Yet, in the way he stood before you, allowing you to see him in his most vulnerable state, you knew. You knew that his heart, so often guarded, was entirely yours.

When it came time to wash his hair, Zayne bent forward with practiced ease, his dark hair falling over his brow as you lathered the shampoo into his scalp. You laughed, as you always did, at the way his hair fluffed beneath the suds, your amusement drawing a faint smile from him.

“You look cute like this,” you teased, the lightness in your voice a welcome contrast to the quiet of the room.

He glanced up at you, one eyebrow raised in mock indignation. “cute?...another word for you to describe me...” he echoed, his voice dry, though the glint in his hazel eyes betrayed his amusement. “If you could see how I invision you, the roles would be reversed"

Yet he made no protest, content to let you have your moment of playful teasing. For all his stoicism, Zayne had always had a soft spot for the way your laughter lit up the room, and though he would never admit it aloud, he found your teasing far more endearing than he let on.

When the roles reversed, and it was Zayne’s hands that worked the soap into your hair, he was as gentle as ever. His fingers moved with a precision that was unmistakably him, careful to ensure no soap slipped into your eyes. “I know you say I deserved to be spoiled but allow me to give that in return, ten times fold ” he murmured, his voice a quiet caress, his touch so tender it felt as though you might melt beneath it.

You didn't argue.

Once the water had washed away the last traces of soap, he reached for a towel, and in the same unhurried manner, began to dry you off with the utmost care, as though each motion was imbued with the love he so rarely spoke of. It was in these moments, in the quiet spaces between words, that you truly understood the depth of Zayne’s love for you—a love that, like the stars themselves, was constant, enduring, and far more profound than words could ever convey.

Even after the task was complete, he lingered, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close in an embrace that spoke of more than just comfort. It was connection, the unspoken promise that even in silence, his heart was yours.

His breath, soft against your neck, mingled with the warmth of your skin, and there, in the quiet afterhours of the day, there was no need for words.

Just the two of you alone.

Gimmie a tired zayne I would take care of him

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake & Danny Phantom: Two Lost Souls

So, here’s the thing: Tim Drake and Danny Fenton are kinda like two sides of the same coin, right? Both of them have this deep, gnawing loneliness that follows them around like a shadow. Tim’s always the reliable one, the one everyone leans on, but inside, he’s just as lost as the rest of them. And Danny? He’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders, juggling being a half-ghost while trying to fit in as a regular high school kid.

When they finally meet, it’s like fireworks and disaster all rolled into one. Tim sees in Danny a kindred spirit—someone who knows what it’s like to fight against the odds. But the truth is, they’re both haunted by their pasts. Tim’s trying to live up to the legacy of the Robins before him, and Danny’s just trying to find his place in the world.

In those quiet moments they share, you can see the pain in their eyes. They both carry scars, some physical, others hidden beneath layers of bravado and humor. It’s a fragile connection they have, filled with unspoken words and heavy silences. They want to reach out to each other, to be the support the other desperately needs, but fear holds them back.

What if they get too close? What if they’re both just too broken to be each other’s salvation? Tim’s seen too much death, and Danny’s tasted the darkness that comes with being a ghost. They share a fear that if they lean on one another too hard, they’ll end up shattering.

But then there are those moments when everything feels too heavy. Times when they’re fighting side by side, and one of them gets hurt—just a little too close to the edge. In those seconds, the reality hits them hard: What if one day they lose each other? It’s a thought that makes Tim’s heart race and Danny’s breath hitch. They both know what it’s like to lose someone they care about, and the idea of facing that pain again feels unbearable.

Danny sometimes looks at Tim and thinks, What if I can’t protect him? And Tim, always the strategist, thinks, What if I’m too late next time? They’ve both lost so much already; losing one another would be the breaking point.

But for now, they’re stuck in this endless cycle of longing and loneliness, two lost souls trying to figure out if they can even be saved. The fear of being left behind lingers in the air between them, a tension that keeps them from getting too close, even as they yearn for something more. They know they could have something beautiful if they could just break down those walls—a friendship, a partnership, something more.

And yet, as they stand together, fighting the darkness, they can’t shake the feeling that every battle could be their last. They cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they can face whatever comes next together.

[hera-arii]

I always felt the gods here with me throughout my life, even before I started worshipping them.

When there was a thunderstorm I would go to the window and bask in the embrace of the lightning, beautiful and spectacular I thought it was. The comforting sound and feeling of the storm was calming to me.

That was King Zeus with me, giving me a sense of peace when others wouldn’t feel it.

The feeling of parental instinct when a child is in need. Wanting to make your family proud and trying your best to be strong, for them. Doing whatever you have to do so everyone in your life is safe.

That was Queen Hera with me, protecting me and others.

Going to the beach and collecting seashells. Splashing in the water with my loved ones, finding new rocks and walking along the seashore, smelling the salty sea breeze, it’s amazing.

That’s Poseidon with me, showing me the beauty of the sea.

Thinking about the loved ones that passed. Having them in my memories and feeling their presence here even though they aren’t.

Thats Hades with me, remembering the past.

Taking care of the Earth. Cooking your meals by yourself. Being grateful for your belongings and food. Respecting others and willing to do anything for your loved ones, and keeping them safe.

That’s Demeter with me, caring and understanding.

Learning. Making sure your studies are fufilled. Being a strategist and using your brain before doing. Trying extra hard to pass your classes. Wanting peace between war.

That’s Athena with me, reminding me to try my best.

Loving. Giving my friends the love they deserve. Always trying to make them happy, even if im upset that day. Trying to love my family even when they make me feel negative about myself.

That’s Aphrodite with me, loving unconditionally.

Losing my temper, controlling my temper, feeling strong emotions. When I get mad I can’t even think. So angry I might start a war. Standing up for what I believe in. Making myself known.

That’s Ares with me, and my emotions.

Feeling the sun heal my soul. Using music as an escape from reality. Guiding me throughout the day with the light that shines in the darkest parts of me. Healing myself.

That’s Apollo with me, using his light to save me.

Watching the moon glow at night. Hunting for my purpose in life, and learning new things. Archery. I hold the bow high, aim, and shoot. It’s easy for me because of her. She showed me the way.

That’s Artemis with me, guiding me throughout the night.

That feeling when you built something by yourself. It’s so amazing, like you can do anything else, and you seem powerful for once. The best thing you can feel. Pride.

That’s Hephaestus with me, building my pride.

The warmth you feel in your heart when you are in your room. It’s the happiness of being in control of yourself. Being hospitable towards others.

That’s Hestia with me, warming my heart.

Having fun. Doing what you love. Dramatizing yourself and being playful with others. Always leading with what you want to do. Making time for your passions.

That’s Dionysus with me, reminding me to have fun.

Traveling. Doing new things. Trying to find new passions. Not be afraid of getting in a little trouble. Playing pranks and games with people you love. Getting to act like a kid again.

That’s Hermes with me, making sure my childish needs are filled.

Dreaming. Imagining yourself in a different way. Seeing the beauty of another life. Being someone else entirely, you can do anything. Nothing can limit you now. The feeling of being cradled to sleep like a baby. The care you are being handled with.

That’s Hypnos with you, and in your dreams

They were always with me, and now im with them.

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 act iii spoilers⚠️

i've seen the edits but i've not heard a single soul talk abt caitlyn fighting ambessa in the last battle. so i will: first abt how she was able to do what she did, and then the fight itself and what i think it symbolizes for her.

ppl complained abt caitlyn getting too close to ambessa on the noxian ship to zaun, all friendly like this was a mother-daughter sparring lesson, but let's not forget caitlyn is an amazing strategist. she saw an opportunity to not only improve her own hand-to-hand combat skills by learning from ambessa, a formidable warrior (bcuz caitlyn is a long range sharpshooter and even tho she's an excellent shot, she isn't a strong opponent in melee and she knows it), but also because to make herself familiar with ambessa's fighting style would mean to know what to expect.

when ambessa fights dirty as part of her lesson, caitlyn takes her anger out on her immediately and attacks her from the back to show two can play that game. this is a great moment of foreshadowing - caitlyn's patience is wearing thin, she's frustrated with ambessa. she might turn on her, betray her and use her own tricks to do it (of course, her and vi's unconditional trust in each other, something foreign to ambessa, is what sells it). this is just my interpretation and i don't know when but i think at one point caitlyn realized she might eventually have to fight ambessa for real - their disagreements were becoming more frequent, the tension between them more palpable and if she really knew ambessa was manipulating her the entire time like she said...

fast forward and caitlyn's got the element of surprise, sure, but all vi's been doing since the last time they saw each other is bashing people's skulls in at an underground boxing ring (and getting drunk, i guess). vi has always been a much stronger opponent in hand-to-hand combat, she "blocks with her face" and isn't scared to take a punch bcuz she's extremely good at it. she's tough and willing to take a lot of damage as a trade off if she can deal a lot back. caitlyn is a more careful and less robust type. but if you look more closely, she tackles vi to the ground brutally using the same exact combo she learnt from ambessa during their earlier spar. fast learner.

in the last fight, caitlyn gets roughed up, gassed up (here's how she fights in melee in low vision just before that by the way, already so much improvement from season 1), she gets stabbed in the side and leaves the dagger in there (rightfully so - smart choice for a smart character). she's brought to her knees with a gun to her head, and as soon as maddie falls dead on her, she's up again and fighting. but it's not like that doesn't affect her, she becomes slower, shakier, and proceeds to take the most hits she's ever taken on screen, potentially the hardest ones too, even with mel's help and shields. she falls and falls and keeps getting up, showing insane resilience. ambessa can't put her down for good. she's fighting like a woman gone mad, female rage and all that, having forgotten all self-preservation.

like she's got a death wish, she punches ambessa mid-sentence and tells her to shut up and fight. caitlyn kiramman interrupted a warmonger's villain speech bcuz she's bleeding out and has no time for this shit. all she can do before she goes down is try to buy mel time, give her a good opportunity to use the black rose necklace. she's centimeters away from getting stabbed in the eye and she can't overpower ambessa whose dagger is sticking through mel's shield when she realizes the talismans on ambessa's arm are protecting her. so she pushes forward, literally trading her eye off to find herself within range, and she takes the dagger out of her own side to slice the talisman free. she's literally bleeding out at this point but one smart decision, a few tremendous sacrificies and it's over.

in my interpretation, caitlyn regrets going too far in her pursuit of jinx, making vi a cop, gassing up the undercity, shooting with isha on top of jinx, hurting vi, joining ambessa and all the atrocities that came out of their partnership when caitlyn became commander. she wishes she'd never made those mistakes but she knows she can't undo them now. the way caitlyn fights against ambessa here - reckless, desparate, like she's got nothing to lose - shows how much she wishes to fix things because that's all she can do now. that's her purpose, her salvation from her guilt, but also the right thing to do.

it reminds me of her talk with imprisoned jinx and then her talk with vi after that. caitlyn seems to be projecting onto jinx bcuz of her own guilt for what she's done when she tells her she can't turn back time, undo her mistakes or make up for what's already done. no one can. but vi asks her, "who are you to decide who gets a second chance and who doesn't?" and it makes caitlyn realize she still has agency. she can always attempt to fix things, right her wrongs to the best of her abilities. and what does she do immediately after that conversation? she sends all the guards to the hex gates so vi can free jinx.

UPDATE: here's another post talking about what cait sending those guards away meant, how much she sacrificed in her attempts to do right by vi, including a comment about what it means for a sniper to lose her eye that i found brilliant.

[solxamber]

Could I request Azul and Jamil with a super talented reader who's super low-key and humble about it?

Reader can literally learn and do anything but whenever people praise them for it, they just shrug and say it's no biggie. They're also super lazy and not very active.

Nothing angsty, please! Just these two getting jealous of reader and trying to one-up them and failing.

Azul , Jamil with a super talented reader

thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul prided himself on his work ethic, his strategic genius, and his ability to control any situation. That is, until you came along.

You, the student who could master any skill, learn any spell, and complete any task as effortlessly as breathing, all while looking half asleep. At first, Azul thought it was just luck—maybe you had a natural knack for a couple of things. But no. No.

You were a force of nature, and what was worse—you didn’t even care.

It all started in Potions class. Azul had, of course, been showing off his perfectly executed potion, a gleaming liquid that sparkled like sunlight on the ocean. Professor Crewel was nodding approvingly, and Azul was basking in the glory, about to receive top marks.

Then you—who had been literally doodling on your notebook the entire time—turned in your potion. A bright, shimmering liquid with a perfect consistency.

Azul narrowed his eyes, holding back a laugh. “Oh? Decided to put in some effort at the last second?”

You blinked, rubbing your neck. “Not really. Just did whatever the recipe said.”

“Just did whatever the recipe said?” Azul repeated, trying to maintain his composure. “I see. Well, it’s probably just a fluke.”

Professor Crewel glanced between Azul’s and your potion, then did a double-take. “Hmm. This one,” he said, pointing to yours, “is the most perfect potion I’ve seen in years. Well don—”

Azul’s soul left his body.

You just shrugged, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Eh, no biggie.”

Azul felt his eye twitch. No biggie? His masterpiece had been dethroned by someone who couldn’t even be bothered to stay awake through the lesson?! He clenched his fists, resolving to challenge you—surely this was just a one-time thing.

The next day, he challenged you to a game of chess in the Mostro Lounge. He could already see the headlines: Master Strategist Azul Ashengrotto Crushes Overconfident Upstart in Chess.

“Ready?” Azul smirked, pushing up his glasses.

You yawned, taking a sip of your drink. “Sure, why not?”

The match began. Azul moved his pieces with the precision of a seasoned general, carefully calculating every possible counter move. He was winning. Victory was within his grasp.

And then you nonchalantly moved a piece. “Checkmate.”

Azul stared at the board. “Wait. What? How?!”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Just moved the knight thingy over there.”

Azul felt the world spin around him. You couldn’t even name the pieces properly and you’d beaten him?! He gawked at the board, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Eh, no biggie,” you said, getting up. “I’m going to take a nap now.”

Azul could only sit there, trembling as you casually strolled off like you hadn’t just dismantled his ego with a single move.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil prided himself on being competent—no, exceptional—at everything he did. Years of hard work, discipline, and focus had made him one of the most capable students in NRC.

But then there was you. The walking anomaly who somehow excelled at everything without lifting a finger. And it was driving Jamil absolutely insane.

The first time he noticed was during Scarabia’s basketball game. Kalim had dragged you along to join in, and while Jamil expected you to be terrible—what with the way you were lying on the grass, not even trying—he quickly realized you were anything but.

“Hey,” Jamil called from the court. “You’re not even trying. You do realize we’re playing a game, right?”

You yawned, still sprawled on the sidelines. “Yeah, just... not feeling it today.”

Jamil glared. “Oh, really? Well, maybe you’ll feel it if I throw you the ball.”

He tossed it to you, hard, hoping to snap you out of your lazy daze.

You casually caught it with one hand, still half-asleep, then stood up and—without even looking—launched it across the court.

The ball swished perfectly into the basket.

Jamil blinked. The entire court was silent.

“Nice,” you said, sitting back down. “I’m going back to sleep now.”

Jamil’s mind short-circuited. You weren’t even trying?! He had been practicing those shots for weeks, and you just casually yeeted the ball into the basket without a second thought?!

That’s when he decided: this was war.

The next day, he challenged you to a cooking competition. Surely, in this realm, his expertise would shine. After all, Jamil was a master of Scarabian cuisine. He had spent years perfecting his recipes.

You glanced at the ingredients and lazily started throwing things into a pan. Jamil, ever the perfectionist, was carefully measuring spices and slicing vegetables with precision. He couldn’t wait to show you who the real chef was.

Except... the aroma coming from your dish was heavenly.

Jamil peeked over, and his jaw dropped. “Wait... what are you making?”

“Uh, dunno,” you said, tasting your sauce. “Just kind of threw stuff together.”

Jamil’s eye twitched. “Threw stuff together?! That’s a five-star dish! How?!”

You shrugged. “Eh, I dunno. Just felt like it’d work. Not a biggie.”

Not a biggie? Jamil stared at you, absolutely floored. Not a biggie?! That dish could make the Sultan of the Scalding Sands weep tears of joy, and you? You acted like you’d made instant ramen.

Jamil spent the rest of the week plotting ways to one-up you. Whether it was dancing, studying, or sports, he was determined to show you that he was the more skilled one. But each time, you effortlessly matched him, only to give that infuriating shrug and say, “Eh, not a biggie.”

By the end of it, Jamil found himself slumped in the lounge, defeated. You were lazily flipping through a magazine beside him, as if none of it had even registered.

“You’re... going to drive me insane,” Jamil muttered.

You yawned. “Eh, no biggie.”

Masterlist

[sister-lucifer]

One Must Stake His Claim: Chapter One 

Or: The Game Begins 

[Prologue] [Masterlist]

Nightbringer Diavolo + Lucifer x Male Reader 

Genre: Fluff, I suppose. Not overly sweet, though. 

Summary: After a fair bit of tension, Lucifer finally decides to make his move. 

Content/Warnings: He/him Reader, Jealous Luci, competition, not exactly a love triangle since Reader is completely unaware of the bullshit they’re in the middle of, praise, Luci is bad at flirting, suggestive but not NSFW, inappropriate and unprofessional touching, a few instances of profanity 

NOT FULLY PROOFREAD! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE ANY ERRORS!

If tension was a tangible thing, one could cut through the current fog of competition with a knife. 

All day Lucifer and Diavolo have practically been circling each other, staring each other down like territorial animals, both of them more than prepared to fight but neither wanting to make the first move. 

After all, war is not a subject to be taken lightly. One must keep his deniability in tact should the worst come. 

You, on the other hand, have been carrying on quite as usual. Regardless of how the game escalates, neither Diavolo nor Lucifer are particularly fond of the idea of bringing your attention to the situation. Perhaps it’s simply easier that way, or perhaps on some level they can’t bear to even imagine the look on your face when the realization of their childish squabbles comes to light. To some extent they’re both aware of the ridiculous brawl that will inevitably become of this—not that it’s completely reasonable to begin with—but they both fall to the whims of their pride. 

That is to say, they would both sooner eat glass before they concede to the other. 

They’ve both been keeping a watchful eye on you as you flitter about the House of Lamentation. Every now and then you’ll look up at just the right time and catch one of them staring you down with more intensity than he means, but you’ve yet to raise any sort of question about it. It’s not all that odd, really; they all did that when you first showed up. If you looked just a bit closer you might be able to see that swimming fury in the back of their eyes, but staring in through the window’s of a demon’s soul for too long will send shivers down your spine. 

Over the past hour or so Lucifer has been slowly working up the courage to approach you. He’s been wary about striking first, but he just can’t wait any longer; he needs to out-play Diavolo, and in order to get one up on as skilled a strategist as the demon prince he has to have quite the reserve of courage. It’ll be unexpected, too, especially with Barbatos currently occupying Diavolo with some royal responsibility he can’t sneak away from. 

The pieces of quite the sly plan have been slowly coming together in his mind. He’s got to have the perfect mix of wit, gall and charisma to pull this off, to pull you in without overwhelming you or putting you off. He has to carry himself with confidence but not arrogance when he approaches you, and he has to choose every word carefully. On top of that, he has to make his move at exactly the right time, as even a second of miscalculation could completely ruin everything that he’s— 

“Oh, Lucifer! I finished that paperwork you asked me to!”

He nearly jumps out of his skin, suddenly ripped from his thoughts by the sound of your voice. 

It looks like you’ve made the decision for him. 

The thick stack of papers falls into his desk with a hard thud a moment later. He looks up to meet your eyes, and the proud smile on your face makes his heart skip a beat. 

“I did it,” you say, “I’ve gotten everything from the contractors in order, and I’ve gotten all the budget reports back. Now we can officially move on to the next stage of building R.A.D.!”

Lucifer’s lips part just slightly, but no words come out. He hates being at a loss for words, but he you have an odd way of doing that to him with the most minuscule gestures. It’s not even a gesture, really, he asked you to do this, but…

He manages to snap out of it quickly, clearing his throat. 

“Ah, I see. This…will surely take quite a bit off of my work load.” 

The words sound much more forced than they should be. Lucifer inwardly cringes when you raise a brow curiously. 

“Are you, um, alright, Lucifer?” 

He quickly nods, waving his hand dismissively. 

“Of course, of course. Just a bit, you know, worn out. This sort of thing is quite demanding.” 

“Definitely,” you agree with a nod, “let me know if you need anything else. I could always grab you a coffee, or maybe some tea if—“

“That won’t be necessary.” 

The rejection is far more firm than he means it to be, and for a split second he braces for the worst, only to breathe an internal sigh of relief when you shrug and turn to walk away. 

…Hold on, walk away? 

Wait, no! 

This is his chance, and he was completely caught off guard! He can’t let you leave now, not when this is the perfect opportunity to show Diavolo what he’s capable of! 

And yet, he’s not moving. 

He’s just watching this moment slip through his fingers in slow motion, like a miserable fool. His hands twitch uselessly against his desk without pushing him to stand. 

Dammit, dammit, dammit! 

It shouldn’t be this hard. 

It really shouldn’t be this hard, but something about you makes his mouth go dry and wrings every last drop of intelligence out of his brain. Goodness, he didn’t even thank you! He had meant to, surely, but he choked. 

No! 

No more waiting. No more letting Diavolo have the power. This is more than just a stupid competition for your attention, this is Lucifer’s chance to prove that he won’t roll over and be an obedient lapdog for the Devildom crown. 

With a sudden burst of energy he pushes himself up from his desk, making quick strides towards you. The aggressive clicking of his dress shoes on the tile startles you enough to make you turn around. 

“Lucifer—?” you start, but you don’t get to finish. 

Two strong, gloved hands come down on your shoulders. When you look up and see the deathly serious look on Lucifer’s face, you gulp. Shit, are you in trouble?

“Human,” he says, his deep voice booming in your ears despite his composure. 

You struggle to look him in the eyes, mentally bracing for the verbal misery that is surely about to be inflicted on you as punishment for whatever sin you’ve committed against law and order in the House of Lamentation. 

“…Thank you.”

Wh…huh?!

Despite your best efforts to stay neutral, you can’t fight the look of skepticism that twists your features. 

“Thank you,” Lucifer repeats upon seeing your expression, though it doesn’t make the words coming out of his mouth any less surreal for either of you, “you’ve done me a great favor. You always work diligently when given a task, and I…” 

There’s a pause.  

The silence is deafening. 

He can’t believe he’s going to say this. 

“…I couldn’t do it without you.” 

No. Fucking. Way. 

Fireworks go off in your head, exploding in vibrant blooms of every color you’ve ever seen and some you’ve never even imagined. For a brief moment a wave of pastel paint strokes sweeps through your world like the still life of a Rococo painting, all synapses firing with bursts of star-bright mirth. 

Such high praise from Lucifer! Great heavens, someone wake the King! 

The wide grin that spreads across your face threatens to split your visage in two, and Lucifer nearly forgets himself at the sight. 

Yes, he thinks, he said the right words! He’s done it! 

You can barely stop yourself from jumping for joy. You manage to thank Lucifer in return through your utter elation, and he even lets you see him smile. It’s nothing big, just the smallest quirk of his lips, but it’s priceless to you. It’s as if in this moment you and Lucifer are the only ones who exist, and really, all he can see now is you. 

He wasn’t expecting the mere sight of your genuine smile to affect him so deeply, but it does.  It sparks a gentle fire deep in the core of his being that warms him like nothing has since his wings were white. 

Damn, that feels good. 

He gives your shoulders a pat before releasing you. 

“Go on, then,” he says, not taking his eyes off of yours, “I’m sure you’ve got other tasks to attend you. I shall call if I need you.” 

You nod, giving a quick goodbye before you turn on your heel to take your leave… 

…only to instead run right into Diavolo’s chest. 

Suddenly all of that joy is draining from Lucifer at an alarming rate, like water through his fingers. He can feel Diavolo’s booming laughter burrowing into the recesses of his brain and promising to induce a horrid migraine. He doesn’t know why Diavolo is here, but from what Lucifer has observed of the prince he can tell he has something of a sixth sense for when someone is trying to usurp any sort of power from him. It’s an important talent for any royalty to have. 

You have to crane your neck to look up at the demon prince towering over you.  Your lips part to speak an apology, but you choke on your words when he reaches out to cup your chin with a gentleness unbecoming of Devildom royalty. 

In a moment your face has become unbearably hot. 

“I must agree with you, dear Lucifer,” Diavolo says, not looking up at the other demon, “our little human here has been quite the asset to our cause. I simply can’t imagine where we would be without his efforts.” 

His voice carries a sickly-sweet sense of self satisfaction that only registers to Lucifer‘s ears. He could kill him right here and end the royal bloodline for good, he thinks. A horrible choice that would be, but the last thread of his composure is quite strained and threatening to snap right in two, with the break being helpfully hastened by that awfully smug look on Diavolo’s face. 

You stammer, unsure what to say. You’re completely flustered. 

It would be cute if Lucifer weren’t so angry at the cause of your foolish stuttering. 

For a brief moment Diavolo looks up, and he makes eye contact with Lucifer. In his eyes Lucifer sees none of that gracious persona he’s putting on, all he sees is ‘I’m better than you.’ 

This cannot be allowed to stand. 

Lucifer steps closer, his front nearly against your back. You squeak in surprise and slight confusion. 

“L-Lucifer, what—?” 

“I must say, Diavolo,” he interrupts, forcing a polite smile of his own, “it’s even beyond that. I dare say we’re all better in character because of this human. Wouldn’t you say?” 

His hand finds its way onto your back, sliding a bit lower than you were ready for before settling into a stop. He can feel you shiver at the touch. My stars, you’re small, he thinks. He hadn’t realized the true size disparity until now. 

You’re frozen, sandwiched between the strong bodies of two demons who practically dwarf you. Alas, the perils of being a human in this world; you may not ever fully realize how different you are from them. 

Diavolo’s hands move to your arms, giving you a little squeeze and making you jump. You’re nearly engulfed by them as they lean over you to speak to each other. 

“You’re certainly right, Lucifer,” Diavolo replies, “I hesitate to compare a human to an angel, but I must say I’m at a loss for any other equivalent.” 

His grip on you gets just a fair bit tighter. 

You can’t take much more of this. You may just melt into a whimpering little puddle. 

“I’d say it’s a far enough comparison,” Lucifer says with a nod and just a hint of a growl in his voice. 

“I do hope so; I hate to brag, but I do think the demon prince himself should know best,” Diavolo  states with an air of certainty beyond what his words would imply. 

“Now, now, let’s not get cocky,” Lucifer bites back. 

“I’m only suggesting the truth,” Diavolo replies firmly. 

“And for what reason do you think this to be the truth, hm?” 

“Well, I’ve yet to seen this disproven, especially by you.” 

“Perhaps you’re merely not looking hard enough. Must be awfully hard to see over that silver spoon in your mouth.” 

“Do you truly think—“ 

“Wait. Diavolo—“ 

“No, no, Lucifer, let me finish—“ 

“Diavolo.  The human has left.” 

“The hu— what?” 

There’s a pause as they both look down at the empty space you were occupying moments ago, then to the doorway just in time to see the last sliver of you before you’re gone. 

Diavolo blinks. 

“Where do you think we lost him?”

Lucifer sighs. 

“Around your stupid angel comment, I’d say.”

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

[cheriladycl01]

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 2

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

"Ghost, Radio Check Please" you engineer says as you pull from the pits.

You hadn't got a win yet, of course you'd had many podiums. Some even last year when you were with Alpine, more this year with Red Bull.

You wanted the win, even though it meant showing who you were and that came with a price, you felt ready. You just needed a reason to come forward with it.

However, even with Oscar's assuring words earlier in the day your P15 start because of the way qually went for you didn't feel like a win was applicable.

"Check" you say before driving out of the pits and into P15 behind Sargent and in front of Tsunoda. You really though that today might be the day and it would have been iconic it being your home Grand Prix and all. But it just didn't look possible when you weren't even in the middle sector of the grid.

You released a big breath as the red lights went out, you dived forward taking over Sargent gaining one place. Esteban who was ahead of him, seeing your Red Bull immediately forgot about Stroll ahead of him and starting defending against you.

For the first 14 laps, in your sector there weren't many changes in positions. Up ahead you had no idea what the grid looked like. But nothing much had changed behind you.

It wasn't until you could feel your tires both getting warn out and starting to struggle with the typical UK drizzle that was upon the race.

"Need to pit soon, cars getting harder to manage with the rain" you admit, knowing that the pit crew already probably have the intermediate tires ready for you.

"Pit on the next lap. Max will pit after you" he advises. However as your coming into the pits, you can see that Vertsappens Red Bull is currently there having its tires changed.

"What the fuck is going on?" you ask pulling up behind Max just as he leaves making you pull forward.

"Copy" is all you get and you let out a frustrated sound that was between a yell and a grunt.

Red Bull made up for it with an exceptionally quick stop for you and you got out on the track again. Luckily, others had pitted as well due to the weather conditions, so you came back out in P15.

"Look, I'm sorry about the incident Christian and the strategists are looking into it but there something I got to ask you, because clearly these methods are no longer working!" you hear you engineer say, you ignore him for a split second taking the corner before you throw back your moody reply.

"What?"

"Who runs the world?" he asks and a smirks comes onto your face. Lewis may have hammer time, but boy oh boy...

"Girls, John, Girls run this mother fucker" you shout into the radio before breaking late and overtaking Lance who was the unfortunate soul currently trying to defend from your driving.

You gain further up, Ocon ahead of you.

"Gap to Ocon?" you ask.

"0.3" you hear, you drive up so your behind him, you swerve the tiniest bit right, he does the same making for a accelerated swerve from you to the left and a clean move up to P12. And just like that you started combing through the grid, Hulkenberg, Gasly, Alonso, Albon, Russell, Sainz and Leclerc all got combed through until you were sitting sweetly in P5, Max, Lando, Lewis and Piastri just ahead.

"Lewis and Piastri are ahead. Fighting for P3, if you catch them both by surprise thats a podium. Gap is 1.2 seconds. Increase on Sector 2"

"Copy that" you say, both the McLaren and Mercedes drivers once you get closer to them are dancing around each other slipping in and out of P3.

"Like two ostriches doing a tango up ahead John" you laugh into the radio.

Just as you manage to overtake the two distracted drivers down the small straight John comes back onto the radio.

"Max has damage to his car. He had to come pit and he's currently P9. You can win this, go prove Beyonce right" he says, this was all you needed. You were currently P2, Lando the only driver ahead of you and thanks to the straight a significant gap had been created between you and Lewis and Oscar.

"Distance to Lando"

"2.4 seconds, speed up that Sector 3 now and you've got him. He's on the newer tires but you can get him. Bring it home" he tells you and you go very serious. No thoughts just the track, you catch up to Lando within a lap, fighting with him for P1.

"Max has climbed back, he's P5 and Oscars trying to defend" you engineer says, you didn't currently care about how close Max was to you, just getting that stream on Lando that would get you the overtake.

SKYSPORTS LIVE: David Croft- Can i just say Martin todays race has been one of the best of the season, for some reason we haven't been allowed to aire the radio between Ghost and his engineer but whatever was said... he's had an amazing drive today, going from P15 all the way to P2 and potentially P1 depending how Norris actually ends up defending against him. Its just been tremendous Martin Bundle- Yes its been amazing from Ghost's comeback to, Lewis a 7 time world champ struggling to overtake and defend the current rookie on the grid, to Max Verstappen reporting car issues, to the lack of DNF's we've had here today at Silverstone David Coft- Oh my lord whats this? He's going for the overtake

Lando goes too wide, his wheel clipping against the track edging making you be able to accelerate past as he struggles to re-gain control.

You manage to get a good gap ahead around corners that prove difficult for the McLaren now behind you.

"One lap Ghost, hold" John advizes and you keep driving, the last lap feeling like a cool down, the sweat drenching all around you due to the panic and sheer oomph of the driving conducted today.

SKYSPORTS LIVE: David Croft- AND WITH THAT FOLKS, WE HAVE THE FIRST WIN FROM GHOST WINNER OF THE SILVERSTONE 2023 GRAND PRIX, LANDO NORRIS BEHIND HIM AND OH MY GOSH A LAST MINUTE OVERTAKE FROM HAMILTON MEANING A TRIPLE PODIUM HERE FOR BRITAIN! Martin Bundle- What a day here at Silverstone, and now three brits are on the podium at their home race

You took yourself out the car, handing the wheel to a Red Bull member before pulling yourself with the halo to stand on the front of the car. John and a few other members pull you down to celebrate with them, before you are ushered off to be weighed.

The cool down room was awkward as you could never speak to the people in there, so you would shake hands before excusing yourself. You took the balaclava off, before tucking your hair in and placing your helmet back over your head.

Now it was time for the podium! Your first winning trophy and you couldn't be more excited, nothing could bring down you mood!

Or so you thought.

You went onto the stage, knowing this was the reveal. You and Christian had spoken about it, knowing your first win was inevitable.

"Today has been a historic day at Silverstone. Not only do we have three Brits standing proud on their home podium, we've had one of the biggest comeback of the year today, despite the mistimed pitstops and the weather, he has pulled his first win out of the bag!" an announcer says coming onto the stage.

"Before we go any further Christian Horner would like to say a few words" an announcer admits, Lewis and Lando turn to you excited to finally see the person behind the helmet. Lando had this running joke that you must be obscenely ugly which is why the helmet is kept on because 'Ghost' is intimidated by him and all the other attractive faces present on the grid.

"Hello everyone. Today doesn't just mark historic reasons for the ones just said. Ghost joined us at the end of the 2022 season when we brought them out of their 2 year contract with Alpine, there was ability and promise there that the team didn't want to both miss out on or go to an enemy team and become a menace on the grid. However, Alpine let a few of us at Red Bull in on Ghost's little secret and to say we were excited was an understatement. This year they have proved their worth and i cant wait for their future at Red Bull. That being said, i think its about time i introduce you to Ghost" he says gesturing towards you.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N" he shouts as you take of the helmet displaying your face to the world. Not only could gasps be heard from the drivers right next to you but from the whole crowd not expecting this outcome.

Lando was in a state of shock, he didn't know what would unveil from that helmet but Oscars longtime crush Y/N Y/L/N the sweet Social Media Manager for Ghost was not one of them.

He was confused at how she had managed to pull of this double life, but ultimately was so happy. This was an important day for her, being the first female to ever win a F1 race.

His eyes flicked down to Oscar in the McLaren section as he'd promised to come watch his best friends win, even if he wasn't up there with him. Lando's gaze met his and there were too many emotions upon the usually chill and placid male that he couldn't dechiper what he was feeling.

There was anger, sadness, frustration, betrayal. And he could have sworn, there were a couple of tears brimming the edges. Lewis had you pulled into a hug right now, congratulating you for everything you've achieved up until now, as all of your achievements were bigger and meant more.

As you went to turn to Lando to pull him into a hug, seeing as you guys were friends as yourself, but seeing his gaze fixed on Oscar a feeling of hurt formed in your chest. His gaze locked onto you and the force of his anger and betrayal could have knocked you back.

He ran off into the crowd back towards the paddock, you wanted to go follow but Lando shook his head. As much as this had hurt Oscar, you deserved to enjoy this moment.

But knowing you'd hurt Oscar, you didn't enjoy a single moment.

Taglist:

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[armandsbf]

THE INTRODUCTION OF LISSETTE DE LIONCOURT

TIMELINE: 1910-1917 / 2022

SETTING: NEW ORLEANS / DUBAI

NEW ORLEANS, 1910

Lissette de Lioncourt at 7 years old

Lissette often wondered why exactly her papa had decided to take them to New Orleans. She hadn't been in Paris very long, especially after running from the orphanage and being found by him. He'd claimed her as his own and taken them far, far away soon after.

Not that she minded. Paris had odd memories for her, if only a few.

She knew exactly what her father was and what he did, but she never thought it an issue. He'd made it very clear that once she reached a certain age, she'd be turned as well, as he refused to live in a world without her. She found that the idea wasn't as repulsive as it could've been. The idea of being with her father forever, the idea of eternal family.

Tonight Lissette's papa had gone to a poker game and of course, as he refused to go most places without her, she'd gone right along with him. She'd either be cuddled in his lap, or outside sitting peacefully with her pen and paper. Lestat had done well teaching her art and music. She was only seven, but her love for the piano was almost as strong as her father's.

As she sat outside the room where the game happened, her legs dangling off the couch, she hummed softly to herself. A melody her father had written for her that always put her to sleep. She traced the drawing with her fingertips, not quite sure how truly good the drawing was.

"Ma petite!" She heard from the game room, knowing it was her father's way of calling to her. She clutched onto her drawing, little legs running to him, her dress shuffling as she ran. She opened the door and watched as Lestat's smile grew large and content, a glimmer of proudness in his eyes. "Ah, there she is. The apple of my eye. Venez ici." Come here.

She giggled and fell into his lap, hands clutching at him as he laughed. "Gentlemen, may I introduce the pearl of Paris, the princess of my heart and the true head of my home, my daughter Lissette de Lioncourt."

She waved excitedly. "Bonjour!"

"English, mon ange." My angel. He whispered in her ear.

"Oh! Hello!" She showed a big smile, one of her teeth missing.

"I didn't know you had a daughter, Mister Lioncourt." One of the strange men with a strange moustache looked at Lissette. She cuddled farther into her father. She did not like these strange men.

Lestat took a puff of his cigar. "Odd. I never really go anywhere without her. Though this little miscreant always finds ways to run off." He tickled her side and she giggled.

"Bringin' her here, Lioncourt. This ain't no place for a child. Let alone a little girl." The other one spoke. Lissette hadn't bothered to learn their names, and some words were partly lost on her. Her English was very good, but they just spoke so fast.

The vampire looked him up and down, blue eyes piercing through his soul. Then he laughed, a direct juxtaposition of his earlier expression. "Forgive me, monsieur's, it's just that this is the perfect place for my little beauty. She loves card games. As a blossoming young strategist, I believe this is exactly where she should be." He looked down at her and watched as she focused at his cards. "Don't you think, Lissette?"

"Oui—Yes, papa." She nodded, realising there was no way in hell her father was going to win this game.

"Well," he patted her head. "That's settled. Let's continue the game, shall we."

As they gambled and played, Lissette found herself whispering in her fathers ear about how exactly to win the game, and he was, seemingly, ignoring her advice.

This made her angry. A lot of things made her angry. She was seven, a lack of Bon-Bon's made her angry.

Her brows furrowed just like her father's did as she decided to kick him in the shin. He jolted slightly. "What is it, my girl? Are you tired?" He asked in French.

She shook her head. "No, papa. I'm only angry. You know I'm right, why won't you listen to me?"

He chuckled. "I'm not playing to win, mon cherie."

"You should always play to win."

"What is she yapping your ear off about now?" One of the strange, strange men laughed. "This one's a talker. She'll need a man to rein her in when she grows up."

Lestat leaned back in his seat, tongue suddenly clicking in annoyance. "She is seven."

"When she grows, surely—"

"She is seven. What would posses you to say such a thing about a little child, monsieur? My child?" His grip around her tightened as the two gave the man the same death stare. Lissette didn't know exactly what he was saying or what it meant, but her father got awfully defensive so it must've been bad. That was a bad man then, like many in her life were.

Before he could answer, a man walked through the door and Lissette felt her father grow slightly happier. Or very much happier. She liked it when he was happy, so she liked him. He was also very pretty.

"Gentlemen, well, you all know Louis du Lac." One of the men with a black moustache introduced the prettier one. "Louis, let me introduce you to Mr. Lestat de Lioncourt.”

"We met already, Mr. Anderson, sir." He huffed, taking his seat. Did the pretty man not like Lissette's papa? Everyone liked papa.

"In front of a florist, wasn't it? We both wanted the last bouquet of lilies." There was an undertone to his question but she wasn't sure what it meant. She suddenly remembered the night he was away and how happily he played with her when he got back.

Louis ( she liked that name very much ) took a look at her with a raised brow. "The kid yours?"

"My heart and soul." He leaned down to speak in her ear. "Say hello, Lissette."

She smiled brightly, teeth bared. "Hi! I'm Lissette. You're very pretty, Mister du Lac."

He chuckled at the sweet way she said her words, honest but so kind. He'd never been called pretty. "Well, thank you sweetheart. And you can call me Louis." He looked back to Lestat. "Bringing a baby to a poker game?"

"Truthfully, she plays the game better than I do." He laughed.

"Aren't you gonna ask the alderman how his head is, Louis?" Moustache man spoke.

"Now, why would I do that, Mr. Anderson, sir?" He looked at his cards.

"You see, Mr. Fenwick, just as I told you, a most discreet n**ro."

That was a bad word. Papa said that people shouldn't use that word. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she glanced at Louis. He seemed quietly frustrated.

The man grumbled. "Would that his doctor had the same standards."

"Gentlemen, show your cards." Lissette sighed at her father's pathetic hand. "Hoo! Mr. Lioncourt, your hand is incomprehensible."

He looked down and smiled. "Oh, yes. I'm terrible at cards. Did I not mention that to everyone? I should've listened to my Lissette, it appears." He said. "Would you mind getting me some more of these money chips?"

They all laughed. She didn't understand what was so funny.

"Louis, did you know that Alderman Fenwick here recently purchased both the title and deed to the Horton rooming house on Villere Street?"

"Yeah, Mr. Anderson believes it could make a fine sportin' house. I recommended the alderman find a managing partner before he commits his money. I recommended he think of you, Louis." The moustache man spoke.

"Very kind of you, Mr. Anderson, sir." Oh, so that was his name. She'd forget it in a week.

"What do you think of the location?"

"It ain't Basin Street. But throw enough Edison bulbs on the facade, get a good margin on the alcohol, no-nonsense madam to keep the girls clean, I reckon a man could make a decent sum. Yes, sir, Mr. Fenwick, sir." Louis went on about a business plan right off the top of his head. He's really smart, Papa!, she spoke in her mind.

Indeed he is, ma petite. He answered.

"I said you'd do it for 10 percent."

That was very little, wasn't it? He seemed like the smartest person in the room, why only ten?

He seemed as astonished as the blonde child. "A-all respects, Mr. Anderson, but you proposing 10 percent for all the work?"

"15 percent?" The other one almost scoffed.

"There's capital investment, and there's labor. Both has its seat at the table. Wouldn't you say, Mr. Lestat?" They tried to placate him, but her papa wasn't the person to ask when it came to calming people.

"Well, I can only speak of my experience, which is, I'm sure, different in my country. Par exemple, you fine gentlemen have heard of the success story that is Le Bon Marché, shoppingexperience like no other. Aristide Boucicaut invests in a new vision..." ramble, ramble, ramble and then quiet. Papa was pulling his tricks again!

"These men look down on you." Louis looked at him with an odd mix of confusion and fear. "I have to say, I find it appalling how men like yourself are treated in this country of yours." Lissette nodded passionately.

"He's right, pretty Louis." She said. He seemed even more afraid.

"15 percent. Do you not know your value? Do you suffer these indignities for some larger purpose? And do you think two pair will win the hour?" He waited for Lissette to pick the correct card from the player beside him, and hand it to him as he gave it to Louis. "I believe there is great opportunity in this city, but to seize it, I'll need protection from the wolves."

And then time continued normally. The chip fell, the men continued to speak, and Louis thought he was losing his damn mind.

"—And that's all to say, forgive me, Mr. de Pointe du Lac, for my bias, but where is the business if there is no capital? It does not exist. No?" Lestat continued normally, as if nothing had happened.

"Alright, boys. Show 'em." Louis put down his cards and glanced at a smirking blonde child. "Ooh. Full boat, Mr. du Lac."

"Got you beat, Tom."

( Louis: He wouldn't tell me how he did it, his trick to make the world stop. And the fact that that this little girl he claimed was his own seemed so comfortable and content in all this made me all the more concerned.

Daniel: A child in the clutches of a vampire? Yeah, I can see how that would be scary.

Louis: I asked him far too many questions about his tricks, and he always said; "In time, Louis. Patience, Louis. Ask me next week, Louis".

Daniel: You started hanging out?

Louis: He was in love with my city and wanted to know everything he could about it. And getting to know him meant getting to know Lissette.

Daniel: So you played docent to the gentleman vampire and his mini-me?

Louis: He had not revealed his vampire nature yet.

Daniel: I'm assuming you only met at night.

Louis: It's New Orleans. Days are for sleeping off the previous evening's damage.

Daniel: Perfect cover for a vampire.

Louis: Racing ahead again, Mr. Molloy. Let the tale seduce you. Just as I was seduced. Money would arrive, wired from France, and the shopkeepers, who would usually close at sunset, were very happy to accommodate him and his daughter. He ransacked the import houses to furnish his town house, ravaged the booksellers of their oldest volumes for a library to continue Lissette's education. And, with encouragement, updated his wardrobe to the fashion trends of the season. It was a cold winter that year, and Lestat was my coal fire.

Daniel: And Lissette? How did she fit into your little trysts?

Louis: Lissette was an unforeseen joy. If Lestat was the sun, Lissette was the brightest star in the sky. Never gloomy, never angry, and according to her, never wrong. I found myself for the very first time, to anyone other than Paul, confiding my struggles to another man. I was being hunted. And I was completely unaware it was happening. )

_______________________

Lissette had grown quite used to sleeping the day away. She would later learn that many psychologists said that was horrible for growing children, but she didn't know any of that. She just knew that she loved the stars, and that she loved her papa, and papa was only awake at night.

She had a bedroom, of course, but she mostly slept in the coffin with Lestat. He said he never wanted to be far from her, in case she got hurt or had a nightmare. Papa was the only one who could calm her nightmares.

It had been a few weeks since she'd met Louis, and she found that she liked him very much. He was very nice and always brought her candy or food from his home. He also liked to talk to her, and asked about her feelings and her thoughts. Before him, Lestat was the only adult who asked, all the others just wrote her off as being cute and slightly odd.

As she laid on her father's chest, feeling his hand run along her hair in the darkness of the coffin, a question popped into her head. "Papa?"

"Yes, mon cherie?"

"Is Mister Louis going to stay with us?"

He waited for a moment, for her question to settle. There was a slight lull, and then he smiled. "My dark miracle, do you perhaps like Louis?"

She nodded against his chest. "Yes, papa. He's very kind and he makes you happy. So he makes me happy."

He chuckled and placed a kiss on her head. "He makes you happy?" He poked her side as she broke out into soft giggles. "Then yes, light of my life. If he makes you happy, he's staying."

"Yay! Yay! Yay!" Her head went up to look at him but it lightly banged the top of the coffin. "Ouch."

Lestat immediately cupped the back of her head, eyes filled with worry. "Ma petit, you must be more careful. I can't have your pretty head being hurt."

"I'm alright, papa. I'm st—st," she bit her lip in concentration. "Quel est le mot pour 'fort?'" What is the word for 'strong'?

"Strong." He said, watching as she mouthed it after. "Repeat; strong."

"Strong." She said. "I am very strong. Do not worry about me."

He looked at her like he could see through her, like he always did. He remembered the small thing he found outside the orphanage a year before he left Paris. The little thing who had his blonde hair, and his blue eyes. Malnourished, frightened and so horribly innocent. She was only four. The more she grew, the more he realised that their souls were meant to meet at some point. They would be forever intertwined, fated by an energy he told himself he didn't believe in. She was his and he was and would forever be hers.

He pressed his hand gently to her jaw, eyes unreadable. "I will always worry about you."

"That's too much, papa. You can't worry about someone forever, your heart would stop!" She cried.

"Well, lucky for you, young lady, I am immortal! And unluckily, I'll never stop annoying you!" He held her tight, pressing soft, quick kisses to her laughing face.

Her happiness was loud and beautiful. "You could never annoy me! You're my favourite, papa!"

"And you're my favourite, Lissette dearest." He said, settling her once more. "Now sleep. You're a growing girl, you need it."

"Good night, papa."

"Good night, my love."

____________________

DUBAI, 2022

"Lissette was wonderful. Bright, kind, and asked far too many questions—"

"You keep saying was." Daniel interrupted him. "Same thing when you talked about Claudia, way back when. Except, I remember Lissette in that way back when, so...where is she now?"

Louis only smiled, hearing the peaceful footsteps coming up to the door of their penthouse.

Daniel waited for him to answer as the door opened.

"Daddy! I'm home!" A girlish voice was heard from a few feet away. Daniel's eyes widened. "Dublin is just beautiful this time of year! We must visit together soon, all of us!"

Louis stood to his feet, a bright look in his eye. He walked towards a girl with long blond locks as she ran to him. He held her like she was his world, face falling into her beautiful hair and taking a breath. "You're finally home. I've missed you, baby."

"It was only a week." She giggled as he withdrew, holding her face in his hands.

"A week too long, Lissette." He claimed. "You were wondering, Daniel?"

She whipped her head around at the name, eyes lighting up with recognition. "Daniel!" She cried, suddenly making him rise to his feet as she engulfed him in a hug. "Oh, it's been so long! Daddy said he'd called you back, but I wasn't sure you'd actually come. But you have!"

He was confused, unable to reciprocate her hug, only giving her back a small pat of awkwardness. "Hey, Lissette." He cleared his throat as she stepped away, a sweet smile on her face. "I'm sorry, a lot of the seventies as a blur for me. Were we close?"

"Oh." She said, brows creasing in sudden confusion and sadness. "Yes, we were. At least I like to think so." And then her mood suddenly picked up. "But the past is the past! I'd like to get to know you all over again."

"Would you mind doing so after the interview, sugar?" Her father asked, hands lightly pressed against her shoulders.

She nodded as if a sudden realisation had befallen her. "Oh! Yes, yes of course. Don't you worry about it. I'll be in my room unpacking, daddy." She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then skipped off, servants wheeling in her luggage behind her.

"I expect you here for dinner!" He called out, a yes, of course! following his words. He turned back to the reporter, a content look on his face.

A beat passed between them.

"So," Molloy began. "She hasn't changed."

He remembered her now, as she was in the seventies. As she would be forever. That face that had haunted him for half a century and a name he heard in the fleeting wind. Lissette, Lissette, Lissette de Lioncourt. Beautiful blue eyes, the kindest smile in the world. She was real. She was here.

"And I hope she never will." He continued.

"Guess we know who she chose in the divorce."

"We'll get to that. All you need to know right now, is that Lissette's here and thriving. The only family I've got left, truly. And, to me, the most important thing in the world." The vampire said, seating himself back on the couch. The reporter followed soon after.

"Kids," he sighed. "Can't stand 'em, can't live without 'em."

"I never had that with her. Can't stand 'em." Louis said. "But then again, Lissette was never like most children. Becoming another parent to her wasn't really my decision, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

____________________

NEW ORLEANS, 1911

Louis had decided to visit Lestat and Lissette at their home more often. The little girl found that Louis de Pointe du Lac was one of the most pleasant men she'd ever met. She'd had scarce memories of good men in Paris. She remembered what her father had told her, that the only reason he had come to Paris was some money wire, and that finding her had been complete coincidence. She liked to think it was a happy coincidence and he agreed.

She remembered how hidden they had to stay in Paris which confused her greatly. She would later be told that the Parisian vampires were always on the look out for Lestat, and that he had no intention of seeing them again. When they got on the boat to London in 1908, she remembered glowing eyes staring down at her father and then on her. That dark face and glowing ruby eyes had embedded themselves in her memory ever since.

Lissette wasn't quite sure what they wanted from her father, but it wasn't anything nice. He did not like the Paris coven, that much was clear. And papa was always right about everything. Especially right about Louis.

Months had passed with their acquaintanceship, each day brighter and brighter. Lissette had never seen the sun as much as she had with Louis, and it was a miracle Lestat trusted him enough to take her out during the day. She'd even celebrated her eighth birthday with him, bringing her his mothers chocolate cake and watching with glee as she shoved her face into it.

Tonight was another one of those nights where the three of them sat around the living room talking and laughing. Currently, Lissette was dancing around the living room with a ribbon in her hand. The ribbon belonged to the box of the dress Louis had gotten her.

( Louis: It can't be overstated just how much Lestat and I spoiled Lissette. It's a miracle she turned out to be as humble as she is. )

"Careful, now, Ettie!" Louis called out as she jumped from couch to couch. Both men knew how accident prone she was, and as much fun as she was having, she was also very fragile. "Don't want you gettin hurt, ya hear?"

She giggled. "Oui, Mister Louis." Her small feet padded over to him and she held her arms out. He huffed a laugh and pulled her into his lap.

"How many times do I gotta tell you? It's just Louis, sugar."

"Papa said it's a show of respect." She insisted, looking up at him with her beautiful large blue eyes.

Lestat laughed from beside them, leaning down to press a kiss on her head. "Forgive me, Louis. I've been trying my best to raise a respectful young lady, but I've been saddled with a stubborn one." She poked his cheek in annoyance and he stuck his tongue out at her.

"I'm wonderful!" She insisted.

"Stubborn." Lestat mouthed to Louis.

Louis shook his head at the two. "Yeah, that you are, Ettie." The smile she gave him was so bright, it melted his heard a little. "So, how would you two feel about coming 'round mine for dinner?"

Lestat seemed to already be aware of the question before it was asked. He smiled. "I would be honoured. But of course, we must ask the lady of the house first." He turned to his daughter, eyes full of mischief.

Louis played along. "Where are my manners? Miss Ettie, would you do me the honour of attending dinner with me tomorrow night?"

She thought about it for a moment. She looked to her father and he gave her a nod. She nodded her head with excitement, face painted with happiness.

Louis chuckled. "It's settled then. Ya'll gonna be meeting all of my family, which means my mother, my brother, my sister and her fiancée."

Lissette gasped. "Your sister is going to be a bride?! Oh, that's so wonderful, Mister Louis! Is he a good man? Does she have a dress? When is the wedding? Ooh!"

The man watched her with the utmost curiosity and so much amusement. This little thing was so full of light and love, it made his eyes light up every time she spoke. He wondered how anyone was capable of keeping a child so innocent and bright, let alone someone like Lestat, who made no effort to hide his indiscretions. If his own children were anything like Lissette, he'd be the luckiest man alive.

Lestat leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her head. She reached out for him subconsciously, always seeking to somehow be held by him. He looked at Louis, as if asking permission to take the girl from him.

She crawled into Lestat's lap after, awaiting Louis' answers. "Yes, she is. Yes, he is. Yes, she does. And I'm not sure, sugar. Soon, I think."

"Lissette has, as of late, fallen in love with the idea of love, if you will." The blonde vampire explained as she looked up with dreamy eyes. "Fairytales, weddings, tragic affairs. All of the above."

Louis quirked a brow. "Tragic affairs?"

"Hm. Yes. Romeo and Juliet is an all time favourite of hers. She likes to be read to, don't you, my dark miracle?" He wrapped an arm across her stomach and held her close. It always seemed he wanted her as close as physically possible.

It was true that many parents, mothers mostly, liked to feel their children close to their hearts. They were a part of them, like a limb or an organ. Lestat was no exception to this. He'd once explained that Lissette was like the a living incarnation of his soul, an inner part of him projected into a person. Being away from her would be true hell.

"Ain't that a little dark? She's still a baby." Louis argued.

"I'm eight, not stupid, Mister Louis." She insisted.

She was so quick witted, much like her father. Louis laughed loudly and held a hand to his chest, looking at Lestat, who was laughing with him. "Yeah, she's your kid, alright."

"I take that as a compliment." He said, in all his arrogant glory.

________________________

Coming to Louis' house for dinner was probably the most exciting thing that had ever happened to anyone ever. At least that's what Lissette thought.

His sister, Grace, was immediately enamoured with Lissette. She'd heard of the girl and her father many times from her brother but was not prepared to have a little girl throw herself into her arms and ask a million questions about her wedding and about Levi.

Lestat had laughed and Louis had looked to her with amusement and whispered practice.

Then they were all seated for dinner, and Lissette refused to sit anywhere but her father's lap. The entire family smiled at that and agreed she should be as close to him as possible.

She'd never been around so many nice people before! It was so exciting, and they were all so nice.

"I can't thank you enough, Mama du Lac." Levi spoke after they all sat for dinner. "I never been east of Alabama, and now I'm going to see the pyramids."

"Oh, I think every young family deserves a little adventure. Wouldn't you say, Monsieur Lioncourt?" Florence, the matriarch, asked the vampire

"Oui, Madame. My mother, she gave me every advantage in life as a young man." Lestat spoke carefully, spooning some food into Lissette's mouth. "My first Mastiff, first flintlock rifle, the means to make my way to Paris." He wiped the left overs off of his daughter's face and smiled down at her. "As I try to do for my Lissette."

"And she's just an angel, ain't you, sweetheart?" Grace spoke up, poking her stomach from beside Lestat. Lissette giggled.

She poked her fathers cheek to get his attention and make him lean down so she could whisper in his ear, rather loudly. "I really like them, papa."

The table laughed, having heard her even though she was so sure she was being secretive. Louis looked to her from the head of the table. "Yeah? We like you too, sugar."

She reached her arms out for Louis, wanting to be closer to him. His mother awed audibly. She found that nowadays, she craved him almost as much as she craved Papa. He cared for her almost like Lestat did, held her like he did. She liked it. It was different, but wonderful.

Louis looked to Lestat at this action, and he simply nodded, giving him the permission to hold Lissette. "C'mere." He smiled, rising to his feet to pick her up and settle her into his lap.

"It was Louis that purchased

your holiday, Levi." Paul cut in, eyes staring down at his food. "It's Louis who controls the money."

"Pay no mind, Levi." Louis nodded his head thoughtfully, petting Lissette's hair.

"And I don't know who gave you the right to call our mother your mother. She's not your mother yet

and will never be your scientific mother." He continued his rant. He had never like Levi.

"Paul." His mother chided.

Lissette furrowed her brows. She looked up at the man whose embrace she was in and this time, she really whispered. "Papa, didn't make me, mister Louis. Is he not my papa?" Her eyes were quick to turn tearful. She'd always been awfully sensitive.

"No, baby. Don't think like that." Louis whispered back.

He shared a look with the vampire, whose face had turned sour at the question. Non, ma petit, he spoke within her mind. Louis' brother is not...quite in his right mind. Do not pay it any attention. Alright?

She nodded at him. Alright. I love you, papa.

I love you more.

Lestat regarded Paul with an angry look, then a slight grin. "I do love this bouillabaisse."

"What?" Paul asked.

"Down here, we call it gumbo."

"We had a gumbo the other night, didn't we, Louis? After the opera?"

"Oh, we've got Louis to an opera." Grace spoke with a laugh.

"Iolanta." Lestat clarified.

"Bout some blind princess, didn't know she was a princess. Stomach got grumbling, left half way through." Louis scoffed.

Paul looked between them. "And what exactly is the nature of your relationship with my brother, Monsieur Lioncourt?"

He considered the questioning before answering. "Your brother and I have been discussing a few investment opportunities."

Paul made sure to add, "The birds asked me to ask you. I wasn't being rude."

Lestat then turned to the others. "Monsieur Freniere, would you tell me how you came to propose to this delightsome young woman?"

"Oh, that's a good yarn."

"Are you one with Christ, Mr. Lioncourt? Is your daughter baptised?" Paul asked, eyes eager.

Papa said baptisms were for mortals, like religions in general were. He never saw the point. If there was a God, and he truly believed Lissette's soul was pure, he'd take her, baptism or not.

"How 'bout you shut your damn mouth?" His brother cut in.

"Louis." His mother chided him.

"That's alright, Louis, Madame, the birds speak for him." Lestat waved them off. "I came to know Christ in a monastery. I wanted to be a priest. Just like you, Paul. And under the guidance and discipline of the monks who lived there, I came to memorize both the testaments, the writings of Assisi, Aquinas, Erasmus, all the saints and scholars. My father," the word was bitter on his tongue, an angry scoff coming out.

Lissette shook her head and Louis looked at her confusedly.

But her father continued. "—a vulgar man, did not think much of this education, and so he and my brothers conspired to pull me out, lock me away, where, between beatings, starvations, and the failure of Christ to intercede the beatings and starvations, I slowly forgot all about the testaments, Assisi, Aquinas, Erasmus, all of it."

"Stop." Louis demanded.

The anger was palpable and it sunk into the minds of others, powers growing difficult to control. "And so to answer your boring questions, no my daughter is not baptised and will never be because there is an ocean between Christ and myself!"

"Stop!" Louis banged his fist on the table. Lissette flinched, on the verge of tears again. "Don't do that shit here! Not with my family. You understand?"

They were both so angry. Lissette didn't like it. It felt like danger was at every corner.

Lestat licked his lips, attempting to calm himself. A fake smile graced his face. "I am cursed with my father's temper at times, and the rudeness is all mine."

Louis' mother nodded. "That's alright. It's the humidity. It does that sometimes. Why don't we have some ice wine? And Levi here can tell us all again how he won my joychild's heart."

But Lissette's lip quivered and small sniffles came from her. She didn't like violence or loud noises. Papa made sure to keep them away from her, but not tonight.

While Levi recounted the tale, Louis realised the girl was crying, trying his best to soothe her without making a scene. He held her close to his chest. "I'm sorry, Ettie. It's alright. It's all good." He said.

Lestat whipped his head around to face her at the sound, only to see her holding Louis with a tight grip. His heart broke at the sight of his daughter in tears. "Forgive me, monsieur Freniere." He interrupted, not unkindly. "It seems I must get my Lissette home. She's had a," he looked directly at Paul. "-a taxing day, I think."

He rose to his feet and took Lissette from Louis who frowned in their direction. "You don't have to—

"No, I think it's best we go." He kept his tight smile, speaking within Louis mind, meet me after I put the little one to bed. "Thank you madam, for this wonderful feast." Lissette pointed at Grace before they could leave, and her father walked them over to the woman.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss on her cheek as a goodbye. "Bye, bye, Miss Grace."

She smiled and huffed a laugh. "Bye, Miss Lissette."

And the two of them walked off.

_______________________

That night, when Lestat put Lissette to bed, there was silence. It was uncommon for tense quiet to fall over them, but her mind was a whirlwind. What was Paul saying? Should she have been baptised? Was papa not her papa?

Did she even have a family?

"Ah, I've found it!" Lestat exclaimed, walking back into her room with a stuffed teddy bear. He took her blank expression in for a moment. He wondered if he'd do better to stay with her that night, but knew she needed to be asleep as soon as possible. Sleep fixed a lot of things for Lissette and even a catnap would do her some good. Even if she wasn't used to sleeping at night, he knew she needed to rest. Then he read her thoughts. "My angel, you do not need to drive yourself mad considering that man's words." He said, sitting by her bedside. He smiled down at her. "You do have a family. I am your family."

"I know." She said. "I know that, papa."

But her face was still melancholy. "So what is it then? Why are you still upset?"

She took a minute to breathe before answering, noticing her father's tense expression. "You are my papa, but...who made me?"

He sighed, eyes clenching shut. He never wanted her to ask that question, never wanted to answer it. I made you, he wanted to say, but it was untrue. I will make you, he would say if she was old enough to understand the transition to vampirism she would one day go through. He thought he could avoid the conversation until they got to that point which, in retrospect, was a stupid thing to believe. Lissette was a curious girl, an innocent girl who still didn't know the world, of course she would have questions.

"The truth?" He asked. She nodded. "I do not know. It has never plagued me, I do not care to know. To me, you were dropped from the sky and into my arms."

It was a beautiful answer, but it wasn't an answer.

She smiled at him before huffing slightly. "I wish I was yours."

He looked down at her and cupped her cheek. "You are mine." He assured.

Lissette nodded, though she was still thinking.

There was a sudden knock on the door before they could continue their conversation. Lestat immediately perked up, recognising the soft breaths of the man on the other side of the door. "Come on in, Louis!" He called out. Lissette was excited again, her eyes blown wide with happiness. "We're upstairs!"

The opening and closing of the door, soft footsteps treading up the stairs as he found his way to Lissette's bedroom, his face bright.

"Mister Louis!" She cried out, trying and failing to get out of bed as Lestat held her softly.

"No, no, no, mon ange." He said sternly. "It took ages to get you into bed, you're not getting out now."

She frowned and huffed as she laid back down. Louis laughed at that and Lestat just shook his head.

Instead of waiting for her to come to him, Louis sat himself on the other side of her bed, leaning down to lay himself beside her and boop her nose. "Always so excited to see me, aren't you, Miss Ettie?"

She nodded rapidly leaning closer to him. He was the first person after her papa who'd loved her and that meant more to her than he'd ever know. He wasn't obliged to love her or care for her but he did. He chose to be part of her life, knowing what he was getting into with her. She would forever hold him in her heart, this much she knew.

"Can Mister Louis tuck me in, papa? Just tonight?" Her eyes were impossible to say no to, and this fit in so perfectly with Lestat's plan. A family. Just like Lissette always wanted.

He nodded. "Of course, Lissette." He looked to the man who nodded, though his eyes did not stray from the girl.

He didn't know it then, but this was his first inkling of fatherly love.

( Louis: It gladdens me to be able to say that raising Lissette was one of the greatest joys of my life.

Daniel: Kids tend to be like that.

Louis: But not yours, right Daniel?

He did not like the casual insult.

Daniel: That's funny. You know, last time we did this interview, you said Lissette almost killed you at some point. How's that for the greatest joy of your life?

A silence followed between them. Fathers could be so complicated.

Louis: We'll get to that. I believe you can attest to this, but children give you hope. Lissette gave me hope. The purest form of love. )

Lestat looked to him. "We'll take our business elsewhere once she's asleep, hm?"

Louis nodded as he fixed the blankets on the girls bed, settling her teddy bear in her arms. Lestat left the room and she smiled up at him.

"You got your teddy?" He asked playfully. She nodded at him, eyes turning sleepy. It was said that when you feel safe around someone, your body takes it as a sign that it's alright to rest. "Did you have a good time tonight, Ettie?"

"Mhm." She hummed. "I liked Grace very much. And your mama."

"They liked you too, sugar."

"Do you have a daddy, Mister Louis? I didn't see him there." She asked lowly.

His eyes turned slightly sad as he tried his best not to look away from her. "My daddy passed. Five years ago."

"Oh." She tried to wrap her head around the concept of death. The only death she'd been faced with was followed with life. "I'm sorry. That must've made you very sad."

He smiled at her gratefully. Yes, it had been five years, but Lissette's empathy meant a lot to him. "Thank you, Ettie." She yawned. "You tired yet?" She shook her head and he laughed. "Yeah, I think you are."

"I have a question." She piped up before he could send her off to sleep.

"Okay."

"You had a mama and a daddy, and I only have a papa. Should I have a daddy too?" She asked carefully.

He furrowed his brows. "You have a father, Lissette—"

"No. Not a father, a papa, like you have a mama. It's different." She argued. She knew this to be true. "You'd make a good one, Mister Louis."

He hadn't cried much in his life, not really. He was raised strong, resilient. But her words made him want to sob in relief.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "You're the sweetest, Ettie de Lioncourt." He raised the blankets up to her chin. "Sleep, now." He rose to his feet as she yawned again, eyes dropping shut. He stood by the door, watching her small frame cuddle into the sheets. "Good night, sugar."

"Good night, daddy." She whispered into the wind.

She fell asleep before he could question her, his eyes wide. "Lissette." He called to her sleeping form, but got no answer. He could not bring himself to wake her, so instead he stood at the door and watched her with a satiated look on his face.

____________________

He walked down the stairs with joy in his heart, seeing Lestat standing with his hat in hand.

"Had the little lady fallen asleep?" He asked.

Louis only nodded, that same wide grin on his face.

Unbeknownst to him, the vampire had listened in on their entire conversation. "You seem happy. She's been known to have that effect on people. What did she say to you?"

He only shook his head. "Nothing. Just Ettie being Ettie."

"It must be more than that. Do tell."

He exhaled a laugh before finally letting up. "She uh, she...well, you know I love that kid."

"As she loves you." He replied, the word deeper than either of them truly knew.

"Right." He nodded, and then he shook his head again. "Never mind. She just said she loved me. Gave me a big kiss on the cheek and smiled like she does."

Lestat took his lie in, knowing vulnerability was never his strong suit. "Like you do. She smiles like you do."

Good night, daddy.

She smiles like you do.

Lissette was his now too, it was spoken and absorbed by the universe.

The blonde couldn't be happier about his development, but knew his plans must continue. "Shall we?" He pointed to the door.

Louis gathered himself and followed him out as Lestat continued to speak. "I feel your family has taken permanent offence to me..."

Their voices drowned out as they walked out of the townhouse, unknowing that this would be the night that changed everything.

This would be the beginning, the end.

This would be the creation.

DUBAI, 2022

He was back. Daniel Molloy was back in her life, just like her father had said he would be. He'd made sure to warn her before hand, but the fact that he barely remembered her wasn't something she was prepared for. She knew how much damage the drugs had done to his mind, but it still stung to see that lost expression on his face when she threw her arms around him.

The time they shared, though horribly short, was a nice memory. Few people made an impression on her nowadays so he was always somewhat special. Was she not special to him?

Unpacking in her room, she wondered where he was. He'd never liked the reporter, had he gone away for this? Without telling her? That would've just been rude.

She settled a few shirts into her closet before calling out to him in her mind. My love, she said. I've missed you. It was almost like he heard her immediately, which perhaps he did.

Just a moment, he said.

Then there he was. Her beautiful boy, a smile so bright it was like he hadn't smiled in centuries. Or in the week that Lissette had been gone. She always thought he looked carved from marble, made by the hands of a God she didn't believe in. Angels wept tears of joy when they saw him, and she was his angel.

"Lizzie." He said.

She laughed happily and ran towards him, his arms open for her. She pressed happy kisses to his face, his nose, his cheeks and then finally soft pecks to his lips, grasping at any part of him she could.

Happiness took new meaning when she was with him. Yes, Dublin was gorgeous, but he was even more gorgeous. He held her face and grinned. "My beautiful girl."

"I've missed you, Arun."

Armand smiled at the name. Only she could call him that. Only she had the privilege of knowing him so intimately. "I've missed you too."

Her brows furrowed. "Not that I mind your brown eyes, but...why exactly are you wearing contacts? And," she looked down. "Rashid's clothing? What happened while I was away? Where is Gideon?"

He suddenly looked bashful. "I...I decided to look in on the interview. From afar. With no questions."

"You're undercover? As Rashid?" She suddenly burst out into laughter.

He rolled his eyes and pulled her into his chest. "Don't laugh. Louis thought it was clever."

"He's your best friend, of course he thought it was clever. The two of you are the very definition of tweedle dee and tweedle dumb when you're together." Lissette continued. "And Gideon?"

She was confused when she realised he wasn't there as he was the one of them who was mostly always home. Gideon was often worried about leaving Louis for long periods of time, but he'd drawn the line at the interview apparently. He was worried, very, very worried.

Gideon Russo was one of Lissette's favorite people in the world, and she liked having her favorite people together. She'd grown used to having him around, so this was very odd.

"Left two days ago. Visiting Italy until the interview is over. Or until Louis asks him to be part of it."

Lizzie pulled back and pulled a confused face. "Asks him to be a part of it?" She asked. "This was for him, not Gideon."

"Well, we're all involved. I suspect the time will come when he invites us all in." His hand brushed over her jaw softly.

She scoffed. "He should've asked me earlier. At least I would've had time to prepare. There's many stories where I am the funniest person in the room and he might get them wrong!"

Armand laughed at her adorable rambling. "I think he was just worried. He doesn't like to cause you unnecessary pain. And we haven't discussed him in a while."

"You can say his name. It's not forbidden, you know." She sighed, folding some more clothes into her closet. "Lestat does not cause me pain, anymore. Not since...not for a while, actually." That was a lie. He'd been trying to get into contact with her for the last decade especially, but she hid it from the people in her life. She didn't care. That was also a lie. "I can discuss him. Especially the happy parts. I loved my life, Arun, you forget that."

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her head. "You're right. I know you are, you're strong. The strongest person I know."

"Coming from you, that's the greatest compliment." She said quietly.

He looked at her like every word she spoke was gospel. Even her silliness was magnificent to him.

He looked outside for a moment before looking to her. "The sun will rise soon. Shall we sleep?"

She quirked a brow. "But you don't need to sleep."

"You do." He answered.

She just smiled, a content feeling washing over her heart. "Yes, I suppose I do. But I have to eat first, and daddy wanted me at the table for dinner."

"Then I'm happy to serve." He replied.

"Oh, god, you'll be serving! Oh, this is going to be so fun!" Lissette giggled loudly at the thought.

It was an odd role play which would have Lizzie laughing for days, if not weeks. She wondered how long he'd keep the ruse going and how long she could keep it to herself.

He shook his head at her. "You are insane, you're aware of that, yes?"

"Your bar for insanity is awfully low, you're aware of that, yes?" She shot back.

He only looked at her lovingly.

_______________________

NEW ORLEANS, 1910

Lissette had been crying for most of the night. It wasn't a new thing for her to cry often, but this was different. She missed Louis. He hadn't come back in weeks, after that wonderful night when he tucked her in and treated her so kindly.

Had she said something wrong? Had she done something he didn't like?

"Sweet girl, Louis will be back, you must not weep." Lestat attempted to calm her as her little tears stained the keys of the piano.

He had her sat in his lap in front of the piano, her small fingers over his. He'd been trying to cheer her up, and music had always had a place in her heart.

"Nuh-uh." She said. "He left. He doesn't like us anymore." She was so sure of this, and she didn't like being ignored. She hadn't seen the sun in a while because of the lack of him in her life. To her, Louis and the sun were one and the same; bright shining beacons of light.

"Lissette," he sighed, manoeuvring her to face him. He held her small face in his hands. "Louis isn't like us. Our family is different from his, he's only getting accustomed to it. He needs time."

"Too much time." She huffed, nuzzling further into his hands.

He chuckled slightly at her anger. "Yes. It angers me too." He mimicked her facial expression.

They looked so much like each other in that moment, like mirrors of what was and what will be. He was right when he said that she was a part of him, a miniature version of him, in looks at least.

She loved her papa so much it hurt sometimes. Later on she'd think to herself how awful of a person he truly was, and how awfully she still craved him, but not yet.

She wondered to herself when exactly Louis would be back. She missed him, she really, really missed him. It felt lonely without him, even with her papa. Lissette had quickly gotten used to having more than one person around, and going so quickly back to only being a duo was odd. But she would persevere, she was strong. Lestat was enough company for her, at least for now.

"I just hope he comes back soon. I need to have words with him." She said as angrily as she could.

Her anger was so adorable. Her sadness though, was heartbreaking. Every time he saw her cry, Lestat swore a piece of his heart fell with her tears.

"And you'll be more petrifying than death herself, I'm sure of it." He pressed a kiss to her hair.

_______________________

Lissette was trying her very best to read by candlelight that night, cuddled in her bed and upset because papa had some important business to take care of and couldn't read to her.

He said whatever he was doing would make her very happy, to which she had furrowed her brows and asked is he was buying her chocolate. He laughed and placed a kiss on her head, whispering it's something much better. She didn't know anything could be better than chocolate.

She squinted slightly at the small font of the words, unable to keep up with the story. English had such silly words, she thought to herself.

There was a loud thud from downstairs, Lissette furrowing her brows at the sound. She was used to these kind of noises, knowing her father needed to feed so she expected them. Outside of home, loud noises frightened her, but she knew she was safe here and Lestat would never put her in any danger.

Slightly muffled voices came through the door of her room and she decided to see what was happening. Her small feet padded down the stairs, her face questioning and brimming with curiosity. "Papa?" She called out.

No answer.

Then she saw her father seated on the third step of the staircase, and heard the screams of a dying man. She turned her head to see another vampire feeding on some odd looking man. The shock flooded her system.

"Oh, my dear Lissette, did we wake you?" Her papa asked as he beckoned her over. She walked over to him carefully, dubious of what was happening. She crawled into his arms. "I hope you like your gift. Consider it a belated birthday present."

The vampires head shot up from the throat of the man, eyes blown wide in ecstasy. Lestat had told her what it was like for a vampire to feed for the first time and that nothing truly matched the pleasure of that first sip.

She recognised him with an excited gasp. "Mister Louis!" She cried out excitedly, skipping over her father to run to him.

He'd fallen onto the floor next to the corpse, not expecting Lissette to be there, not even thinking about Lissette because of his hunger. She hopped over the dead body and threw herself into his arms. "Ettie wait—!" He cried out, afraid he would drink her blood as well and would never forgive himself.

But she hugged him and he felt...nothing. No hunger.

Lestat smiled. "You don't have to worry about the temptation. Lissette has been a regular drinker of my blood, your makers blood, our connection transcends emotions. Your body can feel it in her, you'll not wish to harm her." He explained.

( Daniel: Wait, wait. He was feeding her his blood?

Louis nodded.

Daniel: What kind of fucked up daddy-daughter bonding ritual is that?

Louis: According to Lestat it was a necessary means of protection. The blood of a vampire makes mortals like yourself heal faster, feel stronger, like they can do anything. And now, it was his way of protecting her from me and my hunger.

Daniel: So no urges? None at all?

Louis: Not in the slightest. )

He let the words sink in before sighing in relief, holding her in his arms like a lifeline. "Oh, baby. Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." She pulled away from him with a wide grin. It was eerie, her lack of reaction. His eyes grew wide with worry as he tried to move her away or cover her eyes. "You shouldn't be seein' this. You need to go back upstairs. Just go upstairs. Lestat!" He cried out desperately. Lissette's innocence was at stake here, her childhood.

But Lestat laughed. "Oh, mon cher, this is nothing new for her. She is my daughter after all, she knows who I am. And now she knows who you are."

Louis was horrified. She'd known? This wonderful child with a thirst for life, had been living with a monstrous creature, and she'd known?

( Daniel: That sounds like a horror movie.

Louis: It wasn't unlike one. I was terrified. Lissette, little Ettie, fully aware and accustomed to the death that lingered in that house. A child; the very symbol of innocence, surrounded by sin.

Soft steps echoed across the room.

Lissette: I do hope you're discussing me. It's a riveting topic, I'm sure. )

________________________

DUBAI, 2022

Daniel stopped talking. Something that was hard to achieve, but the second Lissette walked through the room, he stopped talking. The shock of seeing her again, after almost fifty years had set in.

She was here, she was real. He finally knew for certain, Lissette de Lioncourt was real. He was old, he knew this, but he'd always wondered if she'd been part of some drug addled hallucination. He was glad to know she wasn't, glad to know she was still alive.

His mouth opened and closed as if he was looking for words that didn't exist.

I do hope you're discussing me. Riveting topic I'm sure.

Yes, she was. She was the most riveting topic, perhaps. Her voice was angelic, like silk brushing his ear drums. What was happening?

Louis smiled at her. "Yes, we were, sugar. How do you feel? Rashid help you settle in okay?"

She almost broke character. "Yes, yes he did. I feel wonderful, daddy. But I am awfully hungry."

He waved her over to him. "Sit, eat." He pointed to one of the servers and then back to her. He quickly settled a bowl of blood in front of her. She smiled and whispered a quick thank you before digging in.

Daniel was still quiet, staring at her.

She looked back, eyes enclosed on him. He still had young eyes, though he'd say something different. He was still a bright young reporter with a point of view to her. He was still Danny to her.

Louis spoke. "Now, where were we?" But the reporter didn't reply. He looked between them, catching the tension. A smirk made its way onto his face. "Cat got your tongue, Daniel?"

He cleared his throat immediately, snapping his gaze away from the girl and shakily meeting Louis'. "Uh, yeah. I mean, no! No." He spluttered.

"Are you alright, Danny?" Lissette asked softly.

Her question was so genuine. So sweet. So her.

"Fine. I'm fine." He shrugged off her question. "You're a vampire. Liz," Liz? Why did he call her that? "just saw you. You're petrified. Something about sin and innocence." He filled in for Louis.

"Right." He nodded. "Lissette can fill in the rest of the blanks for herself, I believe." He turned to his daughter, face questioning.

She looked down and licked her lips clean. Her cheeks turned red.

"Huh. I didn't know she would be part of the interview." Daniel raised a brow.

"Neither did she until about half an hour ago." She spat, glancing at Louis.

His eyes softened. "Only if you want to be, Ettie. I'm not gonna force you to do anything."

You can choose this, were the unspoken words. You can choose how to tell your story, this choice you can make.

She took a deep breath and answered. "I'll do it. I can offer a...more nuanced portrait of things, I believe. Though, do keep in mind, I was awfully young at the beginning of things. I'll be speaking of it with a more childlike view."

Daniel nodded. "On the record, right?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes, Danny, on the record."

There it was again. Danny.

He looked at her for a moment, before lowering his face towards the microphone of the computer. "Introducing the vampire Lissette de Lioncourt, the daughter of Lestat de Lioncourt."

"The daughter of Louis de Pointe du Lac." She corrected. "Lestat hasn't been my father in years." Lie. "I am Louis' daughter, no one else's."

I no longer belong to Lestat.

Louis' smile turned so bright, it lit up the entire room. The father and daughter looked at each other like there was nothing else in the world, like everything else had just fallen away. Like he was hers and she was his.

"The daughter of Louis de Pointe du Lac," he said. "The most recent addition to our book. So," he looked up. "Lissette, Louis had just been made a vampire. Louis who you loved, how was that for you?"

She smiled, and the laugh that left her lips was exactly like Louis'.

________________

NEW ORLEANS, 1910

Louis couldn't tear his eyes away from her. His sweet angel girl, who he believed was so innocent and who smiled in the wake of blood just because he was there. The thought warmed him, in a sick sort of way.

He pressed his palms against her face, eyes creased with an unknown sort of grief. She reached out to dab the blood off his mouth with the sleeve of her white nightdress, staining her clothes crimson all while wearing the sweetest grin in the world.

( Lissette: It was amazing. It was beautiful, he was beautiful. It meant Louis could be with me, with us, forever.

Daniel: And the idea of forever? Of eternity? It didn't bother you.

Lissette: Children have no concept of forever, Danny. I was no different. To me it just meant Mister Louis would be there when I woke up, when I went to sleep, and for everything in between. )

She leaned in closer and kissed his bloody cheek. "Your eyes are very beautiful now, Mister Louis. Like an angel."

His heart broke. He wanted to cry, to weep in her arms and thank her over and over again until the word cut through his tongue.

Lestat rose to his feet and moved the body away, wrapping it up in one of their very fancy carpets.

"For our next carpet, I'm thinking Persian. Arabesque maybe. Certainly need a more efficient way of ridding the waste." He said as he rolled the body up in the carpet, ready to dispose of their leftovers.

Lissette frowned. "I really liked that carpet."

"I'll get you another one. A better one." Lestat suggested with a grin. He took in Louis' frightened state, speaking as if to calm him. "The first time is the most unwieldy. Soon you'll be a natural. You'll come to enjoy it, its variations, little surprises."

His voice shook, horror embedding itself in his bones. "I-I gotta go home." He stuttered.

"This is your home now, Louis. Breathe." Lestat tried to comfort him, convince him that everything would be okay.

But nothing could help the new fledgling. "I... I gotta collect money from the cribs."

Lissette pulled a confused face from beside Louis. Where were all these concerns coming from? They were together now, they were all alright. Why was he so worried?

"I have all the money we need. Breathe."

"I have to go see Grace and Paul." He breathed, rising to his feet and Ettie with him.

"Oh, dear." Lestat sighed, nearing him slowly.

"You ain't fuckin' hearin' me!" Louis roared, shoving his companion harshly and throwing him against the wall with one rough touch.

Lissette gasped as the sound echoed across her home, running to her father worriedly. "Why did you do that?!"

Lestat grunted, whispering it's okay, it's okay, to his daughter.

He took in the scene before him, heavy breaths falling from his lips. "I... I need to go home." He opened the door and rushed out, reaching for what was familiar and safe.

"Louis, wait—!" The girl cried out desperately.

Lestat sighed, leaning against the wall. "He's going to find that very difficult."

Lissette was breathing heavily, clutching onto her father's shirt "You have to go get him, papa! He'll get hurt! He can't get hurt!" She begged, tears in her eyes.

"No, no, no, no, no." He shook his head, standing to his feet and then leaning down to be face to face with her. "Sometimes, my dark miracle, people must learn from experience. He'll come back if he knows what's good for him."

People must learn from experience. Let him get hurt so he comes back and realises Lestat was right all along. Like she would many times in the future.

Her bottom lip quivered slightly. "But—"

"Trust me, Lissette." He interrupted kindly. "He's going to be alright. We're going to be alright."

We. There was a we now. She liked the sound of that.

A few more minutes passed like that, Lissette eventually settling back into bed as she impatiently waited for Louis' return.

She was so frightened he wouldn't come back, or would come back damaged beyond repair. Her papa did not leave her side, curling up in bed with her to calm her nerves. There would be no we if he didn't come back.

Louis was a part of their family now, he couldn't leave.

"Lemme in!" An unmistakable pained scream came from outside, the metal bars of their gate rattling intensely. Her heart stopped as Lestat rushed downstairs, throwing a blanket around his shoulders to protect him from the sun. A violent pounding against the door came again. "Let me in, God damn it! Open the fucking door!"

He was in so much pain. Lissette could feel it in his voice.

Finally the screaming stopped, and Lissette's heart settled. Her breathing became regular again as she tried to listen to what was being said.

"The sun gives life to everything but us. I should have taught you that. The life of a vampire has its challenges and its rewards..." her papa said, opening the sky light and letting rays of sunshine flow into the darkness of home. "...but I think New Orleans, with its music, culture, cuisine, shipping yards, conventioneers, thrill-seeking tourists far-flung from their homes, the laissez-faire attitude of the local police force" he chuckled, letting the sun fade away as he closed up the light. "oh, yes... the perfect setting for a vampire home...a vampire family...a vampire romance."

Their words faded away and Lissette frowned to herself. She hated not knowing what was going on.

________________________

NO ONE'S POV

Louis' charred body shook. "Ettie...is she—"

"She is fine. Concerned about you. Immensely so." His voice was deep and velvety. "Lissette is nonnegotiable. My life, is her life, is our life. We can be a family, Louis."

He let the words settle in as the coffin opened up and Lestat settled into it. "I ain't sleepin' in there."

Lestat laughed at that. "We'll get you your own soon enough. You've had a long life, Louis, and such an extraordinary one ahead." He purred. "Have a rest." But his companion was still unsure. "It's okay. You can be on top."

_______________________

LISSETTE'S POV

She stayed up for hours thinking of Louis, worry clouding her mind. She couldn't take it anymore, holding her teddy bear and crawling out of bed. Slowly, she made her way to her father's coffin room.

It was very peaceful there, a kind of night where everything just fell into place. Lissette would later learn that it was anything but, that it was only days before that Louis' brother had died and that Lestat had turned him in a moment of utmost grief. But as of now, everything felt right.

She walked over to the coffin, knocking her fist against the wood. "Papa?" She asked carefully.

The lid cracked open, Lestat and Louis both in fancy, silk night clothes holding onto each other. Louis' skin was still charred, burnt by the very thing Lissette identified him as. That made her sad.

Her papa smiled softly at her. "Yes, dear girl?"

Louis looked up through newly emerald eyes. "What is it, sugar?" Even in the utmost pain, he still worried for her.

She leaned in close to him. "Are you alright? Does it still hurt?" She reached out to trace her fingers softly on his burnt skin.

He would've flinched if it was anyone but her, but couldn't bring himself to show that her gentle touch could hurt him. "I'm okay. Don't you worry about me."

For a minute she just stood there, unsure of what to do. She didn't want to go, but didn't know if she was welcome to stay. Maybe they only wanted each other for now and she'd understand. But she wanted to be with them, at least for tonight. At least for a while before she grew up.

Lestat knew this. He knew exactly who she was and what she needed. He smiled at her and then looked to Louis. "Well," he said, eyes back on his daughter. "Come on in. We need our rest."

She almost jumped in with a frightening excitement, settling in on her father's chest and letting Louis wrap his arm around her. Now she could sleep, with her new family.

A beat of silence passed before she broke it.

"Can you be my daddy now, Mister Louis?" She asked sleepily.

His arm tightened around her, the pain exiting his body and being replaced by a light he was told he'd be unable to feel from now on.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, I can do that, baby."

She smiled with her eyes shut and snuggled her teddy bear closer to her body. "That's nice." She yawned. "Good night, papa. Good night, daddy."

Lestat pressed a kiss to the crown her her head. "Good night, mon ange."

"Good night, sugar." Louis said.

_______________________

Months passed with Louis, Lissette and Lestat spending each and every night together, except for the nights papa deemed date nights. She wasn't quite sure what he meant, but he said he'd explain soon enough.

Daddy wasn't very affectionate on a general basis, but he was with her because he knew she needed it. She fed off of soft touches and kind words, and as a growing girl, required it often.

"I'll never get good at it! Never, ever!" She cried out, getting off of her piano stool, stomping her legs stubbornly against the floor. She kept messing up Hungarian Rhapsodies, which was horrible considering it was one of her papas favourite pieces. She wanted to learn it and show it to him, watch his face turn proud. She wanted to see his eyes light up with the knowledge that his daughter was almost as talented as he was.

She would never get there if she kept fucking things up. That was a word they used often, fuck. Other words too, words that she technically wasn't supposed to say but did anyway. They were funny, and always got her point across. Like when papa and daddy were talking about how she could often be too emotional and she overheard.

_______________

"I'm not sayin' I don't love it. She feels a lot and that's a precious thing. She just needs to learn how to deal with things better." Louis claimed, sitting across from Lestat on the couch.

Lestat scoffed. "Deal with things better? She's a vibrant expression of the universe, a cavern of echoing emotion, she does not need to learn anything." He claimed, his dramatics always getting the best of him. Lissette giggled to herself, hidden comfortably by the stairs.

She could do no wrong in his eyes, and mischievously, she often took advantage of that.

"Lestat," her daddy sighed. "She's getting older. Things'll get harder to deal with, it's better she outgrows the dramatics now. I mean, she'll be a teenager soon and they ain't so kind."

"What nonsense! My Lissette is the kindest girl in the world, a few measly bodily changes won't change that." He was so sure of himself, and thankfully what he said would be true. Lissette would become a very kindhearted teenager. "If you really feel so strongly about it, discuss it with her."

"Nah, I don't wanna upset her. She's got the confidence of a bullfighter, I'm not gonna mess that up for her." He shook his head. "That's why I'm talking to you about it."

"This is nothing. This is a nothing issue, mon cher."

"It's not, though." He said, undeterred.

Lissette chose that moment to pop up, her bright blonde hair moving with her. "Yes, it is."

Louis and Lestat both turned their heads to look at her, eyes wide. They were vampires, sure, but they truly thought Lissette was upstairs drawing in her room. She was very easy to distract, at least that's what they thought.

Louis looked at her with concern while papa began to laugh. "I didn't mean anything by it, Ettie. Honest. I'm just worried."

"Yes, mon petit, he's worried you're as dramatic as your dear papa." Lestat said with a fake look of shock.

"That's not what I said."

"It's alright, daddy." She said, settling in between them. "I can be very expressive. But no one can be more dramatic than papa. He's a fucking actor, after all."

They both paused at that and then began talking over each other like the concerned parents they were.

"What did you say, young lady—" Louis.

"Where did you learn that word—" Lestat.

"Where did you hear that—"

"From you." She admitted freely. "You say it a lot. A lot, a lot."

Louis pulled a face. "No, we don't."

"'Lestat, what the fuck are you doing?! Louis, where are my fucking slippers?! You fucking idiot! I'm not cleaning your fucking mess!'—" Lestat interrupted her rather colourful imitation by placing his hand over her mouth.

"Alright, alright. We understand, you don't have to go on."

________________

Louis immediately rose from his seat on the couch, Lestat was out hunting that night, on his own as the other struggled to maintain his hunger. His eyes creased with worry as he neared her, quick steps against the carpeted floor. He took in her frazzled state, the light green dress she wore flying around her as she stomped her foot against the ground.

He frowned. "What is it, Ettie? What's wrong?"

She looked up at him with angry eyes. "What is it?" She seethed. "What is it?! I'm never going to learn it, I'm never going to get better at it! That's such a stupid fucking question!"

"Hey, now, what did we say about that word?" He chastised. He had quickly become the stricter parent, though their version of strict wasn't exactly that. It just meant he was the one who spoiled her less.

Her cheeks turned rosey as she looked down. "That it's for grown ups." She mumbled.

"And what are you not?"

"A grown up." She said quietly.

"That's right." He nodded with a pointed look. "Now, you wanna talk about it using our normal tones? Not the screaming?"

She nodded shyly and the let out a heavy sigh. Louis always knew how to calm her using logic, while Lestat usually joined in on her dramatics. Both had their merits, bur she liked the way Louis did it more. "It's just difficult, daddy. I'm trying, I'm trying so hard, but my hands just won't—they won't work."

He took her hand and led her back to the piano, sitting next to her on the stool. He put an arm around her shoulders and held her close before taking her hands in his own. He played with her fingers for a moment before settling them back onto the piano.

In such a short time he'd grown to settle into the fatherly role quite well. Lissette said so, at least. He held her hands closer to her face. "You see these hands?"

She nodded confusedly.

"They're gonna grow. Just like the rest of you. You're trying to do something really hard before you're ready. You can't play 'cause you can't reach the keys, baby. You'll be able to with time." He swore to her with a soft smile, placing a kiss on her head. "It just takes a little time."

He heard her let out a shaky sigh and cuddle into him. "Papa's gonna be so disappointed."

He pulled away with a laugh. "And what makes you think that?"

"You've seen him play! He's amazing, the best! I want to be like him!" She cried passionately.

Louis sighed at her words, clenching his eyes shut. "Ettie." He said, knowing exactly who Lestat was. He loved him, yes, but did he think he was a good role model? Was he someone Lissette, his daughter, should look up to? He wasn't sure. "Your father—"

"My ears are burning." Speak of the devil. "My gorgeous girl!" He exclaimed happily, bright eyes landing on Lissette.

"Papa!" She ran into his open arms. "How was hunting?" She asked as he propped her up on his hip.

"Uneventful. Especially since your daddy refuses to join me." He threw a pointed look to Louis, who looked down. "You were discussing me, I take it. Riveting topic I'm sure."

Louis spoke up. "Ettie's just a little upset about her piano—"

"Uh-uh!" The girl insisted with a look of urgency.

Lestat furrowed his brows, looking from his companion to his daughter. "Her piano skills? Ma petit, you're the most talented musician I know, second only to myself. Whatever would you be upset about?"

"I can't tell you." She insisted. "And daddy can't tell you either!"

He scoffed. "Daughter, saviour, dark miracle, you must tell me. The only way I can help, is if I know."

"Daddy helped me. I feel better now."

Suddenly the air shifted. Lissette felt it, a negative emotion bleeding into the atmosphere of the room. It made her uncomfortable. If she had been older, she would've seen the sour look on her papas face and the way her daddy looked straight back at him with some sort of challenge.

( Louis: I believe that was the first time it truly occurred to him that making me Lissette's father meant he'd have to share for once in his life.

Lissette: I did not blame him, to be honest. He'd had me to himself for so long, it had to be odd to have me look to someone else for comfort. But Lestat was...possessive.

Louis: To say the least.

Daniel: Yeah, I'm picking up on that. So, he makes Louis your dad and then what? He doesn't like it when he acts like your dad?

Lissette: He was contradictory like that. It stemmed more from his need for control, than anything else. He had a vision of our family, and in that vision he was the sun and stars to both of us. He didn't account for our relationship growing so strong, perhaps even surpassing the one I had with him.

Lissette still wasn't sure if this was true. If her relationship with Louis was stronger than it was with Lestat, but it had lasted longer. It had run deeper, and their similarities were so obvious. But de Lioncourt spirit ran through her veins, that much she was sure of. )

"Did he now?" Lestat spat. "Isn't that nice of him? Next time, you come to me, hm?"

Lissette wasn't sure how to respond to that. She just looked at him confusedly.

"She can come to me too." Louis said, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm her father too, right? Your life, her life, our life. Isn't that what you said?"

He paused and his face grew harder. His grip on Lissette tighter as if to say; this is mine. "Yes, mon cher. That was it." He waited for a moment before allowing a smile to grace his features. He turned to Lissette. "You sleep with me today, yes?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" She nodded enthusiastically. She'd missed being in the coffin with her father.

He laughed. "Wonderful! The sun will be out soon, shall we?" She smiled. Lestat looked to Louis. "Louis." He nodded his head quickly at him.

That was only the beginning of his spiteful jealousy. The next few years would prove to be more and more difficult.

_______________________

NEW ORLEANS, 1912

Even after two years, for whatever reason, daddy still insisted on visiting his old family. While Lissette loved his sister Grace and even his mama was sweet to her, she knew papa wasn't welcome.

He went along to please Louis, to make him happy and content.

( Louis: My unwillingness to separate from humanity was a constant struggle in my vampiric existence. I felt it was essential

to maintain ties. But it was getting more difficult. )

Tonight, Louis and Lestat were getting ready for an opera, a wonderful show he assured. Lissette was to stay home and practice her piano. She was a peaceful child and they trusted her on her own.

"The curtain goes up at eight." Lestat reminded him. Louis was hand in hand with Lissette who was adorned in a lovely lavender dress.

"We'll only be here an hour." He assured.

"They'll seat us late, and we'll miss Nora's entrance with the Christmas tree." He added, as if urging him to hurry.

"You ain't gon' miss anything." Louis said, walking up to his home. His mother stood like a judgemental figure before him, eyes hard and cold.

She scoffed. "Look what the wind blew in."

Louis lowered his head respectfully. "Mama."

He walked up the steps to place a kiss on her cheek. Lissette stepped back and took her papas hand. It was clear there was growing resentment in Louis' old family, one neither Lissette nor Lestat enjoyed.

"You remember Lestat. And his daughter, Lissette." He nodded his head towards the two blondes, who in that moment looked so very similar. It was frightening to think that she wasn't biologically his and yet somehow exuded him from her pores.

Lestat took her hand with fake kindness. "Madame de Pointe du Lac, all the kindness for the invitation."

"I don't remember inviting him, but please, take your overdressed self

and have a fine time." She said coldly, then looking to Lissette and her eyes softened slightly. "Hi, sweetheart."

She smiled politely. "Hello, Madame."

"Madame." Lestat nodded in farewell. "Louis." It was more snappy.

"Take Ettie, will you?" He asked the blonde. "She don't need to be runin' around here and gettin lost."

"I was planning on it." He said.

Louis leaned down and pressed a kiss on her head. "We'll be out of here soon, sugar, okay?"

"Okay." She said quietly.

She didn't like it when Louis went back to his old family. He always seemed to want things to change after, he and papa always fought after. The loud yelling hurt her ears and made her think one of them would leave, slip through her fingers like water.

That's why after every fight they had, she'd sneak into one of their coffins and hold them as tight as possible. She'd beg them to make up and within a few days they usually would. She had quickly become the thing that bridged them together through darker times.

This would eventually become the resentment that festered deep within her. The thing they'd expect from her in every possible way.

She walked with her father towards the banjo band, but quickly decided she wanted to be held again. Lestat sat in one of the seats outside and she hopped onto his lap.

He sighed longingly, pulling out his cigarettes and a match out of his jacket. Lissette watched him curiously. "When can I try that?" She asked as he lit up his smoke.

He laughed slightly. "Later. Much later. You'll try it with me then."

"You and daddy do it all the time. Why can't I?"

He pulled her closer to prove a point, letting her inhale the smoke around her. She coughed heavily, her eyes watering slightly. "That's why." He said. "You're too small. Patience, my dear. You'll do this and much more."

"Will daddy stop visiting his family by then?" She asked casually.

He paused and considered this. Her words hit him harder than he thought they would. He couldn't understand Louis' connection to a family that clearly did not feel the same way anymore. He had new family now, a better family. One who wanted him and all his flaws.

Lissette had called him beautiful when he was soaked in blood with murder on his hands. Was this not enough?

"I hope so." He said. "I really do."

She yawned. "Can we go home now? I want to squeeze in some piano practice before I go to sleep."

"Just a little longer, mon ange. Daddy'll be back soon."

____________

A few weeks passed and the energy in their home had been tumultuous, to say the least. While they tried to keep things quiet and civil for Lissette, she could sense the bad energy between them.

Nothing was explosive, they didn't fight, but everything felt wrong. Her bones shook with every awkward silence that befell them. She tried to ask, tried to make things better but she couldn't.

She wept softly in her room, hoping desperately that Louis and Lestat would not hear her. It was all alright, she told herself, but it was not true. Anger and resentment had built up in their walls and she felt every bit of it.

Especially tonight, as Louis' kills had caught up to him. One kill, at least. She could hear their yelling from where the incinerator lay, and she wondered if this should be one of those moments where she should interfere. Well, she thought to herself, why should this time be any different from before?

She was there to fix everything. She was there to keep the peace, that was her job. Her papa had always called her his peace, and that was a role she needed to live up to.

But her body couldn't move. She just cried harder as the argument continued. With the slam of the incinerator, they both retreated into their coffins.

( Louis: In recent years, I've come to the realisation that the chaos in our home did more damage than I had thought to Lissette.

Lissette: Daddy, it's not—

Louis: No, it's true. You were a child, living in an unstable home. That is something I'll never be able to make up for.

Lissette: Don't be so hard on yourself. You weren't the only adult in that house, and you were a young vampire. You had your own inner pain. Lestat, on the other hand.

Daniel: I'm with her on this one. Blondie brought you in and didn't think there'd be some trouble? An adjustment period, maybe? )

She stood outside their door, her eyes pressed against the wood.

"I don't like sleeping angry." Her papa said. "For the record, if disrespect was done to you, I would have killed him myself." He continued. "Well, what can I do to make it up to you?"

The coffin from beside him creeped open. "I wanna buy the Fair Play Saloon."

Daddy wanted to buy the fancy club with the pretty lights? She'd like that.

"That's ambitious."

"If you don't wanna help, I'll do it myself." He countered.

"Ridiculous of you to mix human

and vampire business. It always ends poorly." Lestat argued. "But how can I stop you? How can I say no to you?"

And suddenly everything was alright again, and her body stopped shaking. Her breathing evened out, and she retreated to her room.

______________________

GLIMPSES OF A DAMNED CHILDHOOD

NEW ORLEANS, 1912-1917

LISSETTE DE LIONCOURT, AGES 10-15

1913

Ever since Louis had purchased his club, everything had sort of evened out in their home. He had his business and Lestat dedicated himself to Lissette's education even more so than before. It seemed he was constantly preparing her for something that would take a toll on her future, something earthshaking and she couldn't quite grasp what that was.

She was eleven now, slowly growing and her understanding of the world with her. Lissette had started to come to the realisation that papa was actually growing jealous of her and Louis. He directed his anger at Louis and his carefully crafted spite at Lissette.

He'd whisper in her ear as she lay her head on his chest. You'll always be my favourite, ma petit.

I hope you'll always come back to me.

Because I was the first in your life. You know how important that is, don't you?

My beautiful, talented, intelligent girl.

The last one was something he'd say to her over and over again, as often as she needed to hear it. But she was growing to want more than just her fathers. She would often try to sneak out in the mornings, just to feel the sun on her face. She'd draw landscapes where the sun would cover the entire paper like a blanket, she'd watch as children would walk home at night after a day in the park, their skin tan or burned red, their hands rough and faces smiling.

She'd never had a friend, she realised sadly. Her papa told her he and Louis were enough, but she wasn't sure. She tried once, to talk to a boy when papa and daddy were feeding. He had ashy brown hair and green eyes and a sweet chipmunk smile. He'd dropped his ball and it had rolled towards the bench she was sitting on.

She looked down and picked it up. The boy stared at her and smiled. "You gonna throw that back over?" He asked.

She looked back up at him, eyes wide and words unable to leave his face. She stuttered her words out, "u-um, yes. Of course!" And she took it into her hands and threw it back at him.

He looked at her for a second. "You live around here?" She nodded shyly. "Haven't seen you."

"I-I—my parents don't really let me go out." She answered.

"Why do you talk like that?" He asked rudely.

She furrowed her brows. "Like what?"

He answered honestly. "Like you don't know how to talk."

Her eyes began to blur with tears. Like she didn't know how to talk? What did that even mean? Was it her accent? Or the stutter she didn't know she had? She was sure she sounded stupid, so, so stupid. How come she couldn't talk to anyone but her parents and an adult or two around her? Why did children her own age frighten her so much?

She just didn't know how to be. She was immediately uncomfortable when he approached her, like her skin wasn't her own. She needed to learn how to talk, she needed to learn how to be, she needed to be better.

Her silence struck him and suddenly his eyes grew mischievous. "What? Are you simple?"

Simple? What did that mean? Papa said she was a complex girl full of variety.

"Oh, damn. You are." And then he started laughing at her. He laughed at her.

Her heart broke. Why was he laughing? What had she done that was so funny? This felt cruel. This felt mean.

She felt small, much smaller than before. Lissette curled into herself and the boy kept laughing.

He looked her up and down before throwing his ball up in the air and walking away, chuckles still falling from his lips.

"Lissette?" The voice of her papa came from beside her. She watched as he wiped blood from his mouth and sat beside her. He took in her saddened state. "What is it, my love, what happened?"

She just shook her head and cried into his chest. That was the day she realised that there was something deeply wrong with her, that she was missing one of the vital pieces of what it meant to exist, and that she would never be fixed.

_________________

1914

Louis had Lissette by his side and Lestat was on her other side. She lay sandwiched between them as the younger vampire read to her.

"I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture will always remain young. It will never be older than this particular day in June...if it were only the other way!" He read dramatically from Oscar Wilde's magnum opus, the Picture of Dorian Gray. After Dracula, it had quickly become Lissette's favourite book.

She giggled. "Do you think Oscar Wilde knew about vampires when he wrote that?"

Lestat laughed loudly at that. "Wouldn't that be a laugh? Imagine one like us debating and discussing literature with that queen. He'd be consummated and drained within the hour."

"Lestat!" Louis chided. "Not in front of Ettie!"

"Oh, please. As if she doesn't know what we do in the privacy of our room."

He paused for a moment and Lissette didn't take much offence to it. "Did you—did you have the talk with her?"

She furrowed her brows. "The talk?"

"Do you mean did we discuss the carnal nature of being alive? Yes, we did." Lestat answered casually, playing with his daughters hair.

Louis' eyes widened as he let the information sink in. He didn't remember how or who had taught him about sex, but he knew he couldn't ask his parents about it. How could Lissette and Lestat discuss this so casually? What exactly did he tell her? On top of that, he thought they'd have this discussion as a family so he could soften whatever vulgar thing Lestat would inevitably say.

He also thought it would be later on, much later on. She was still so young, and barely had any contact with children her age. Why did she need to know? Couldn't she stay a child for a little longer? Couldn't she be his baby for a little longer?

"Oh, yes. That. It sounds interesting." She said, absentmindedly.

"Yeah, well, you won't be doing that for a long time." Louis said carefully, readjusting the book on his lap.

"That's what the girls at your club do, right?" She asked. Louis didn't answer. "The one with the black hair; Andrea. She's very pretty. I think I like her."

With no friends her own age, she'd befriended a lot of the girls as her daddy's club. While her parents would have their fun at the club, they'd decided she was finally old enough to run around on her own, especially since the employees knew to always keep an eye on her. Last time she'd run off and been accosted by a mean looking man, the employee who was in charge of looking after her had been fired and then never heard from again. They'd learned to make sure she was safe after that.

She'd sit with the working girls and watch as they applied their makeup and laughed together. She'd play cards with them often, and as the budding young strategist she was, she always won. She liked Andrea the most. She had dark skin, darker hair and the most beautiful brown eyes she'd ever seen. She'd asked her a lot of questions about her work after her conversation with papa and luckily she'd filled in a lot of gaps.

She grew more and more enamoured with her as the months passed. She was only six years older than Lissette and she found that she finally had a female figure in her life to look up to. She grew jealous when she saw slimy men out their hands on her, but Andrea assured that she was well compensated for it. She still didn't like it.

Louis pulled a curious face. "Andrea?" He asked before a smirk grew across his face. "You like her, huh?"

Lissette nodded excitedly. "Yes. She gives me butterflies. She's pretty and kind and has very soft skin."

Lestat laughed from beside her. "Like fathers like daughter, I suppose. Is it only girls, ma petit?"

"I don't think so. It's just people. Pretty people, fascinating people. I just like them." She answered honestly.

"Hm." The blonde hummed. "You're just like me then. Welcome to a world of wonder, my girl."

"Not for a while though. A long while." Louis chimed in. "Can we get back to the book now, please? We gotta sleep soon and you know Ettie ain't gonna settle unless we finish this chapter."

"Yes, please." She asked as she readjusted herself on the bed. The soft lull of Louis' voice began again.

___________________

1916

Lissette had recently turned thirteen, and her birthday was a lavish affair as always. Lestat spared no expense, buying the most beautiful dresses and the most fascinating books. The townhouse had been decorated in her favorite colours, pink, white and black, with banners and ribbons everywhere.

Her fathers had insisted on wearing party hats and she giggled when Louis secured the pointy hat to her head. "Thank you, daddy." He tapped her nose.

"You're welcome, sugar. Thirteen years today, my God." He walked her over to the table full of presents. "Who said you were allowed to grow up?"

"No one. No one at all, so the fact that you're doing so is an utter nuisance." Lestat came up behind her, tackling her in a tight hug and carrying her up as she squealed. "My beautiful little girl becomes a woman. Horrible." He flicked her temple.

"That's rude, papa."

"Yes, yes. So," he clapped his hands before her. "as much as I destain the idea of you growing, this is the most important day of the year and should be treated as such. Here." He handed her a velvet box.

She gasped excitedly, taking the box into her hands and being quick to open it. Within it was a golden ring encrusted with a symbol on it. Something like a lion with embellishments all around it. It was beautiful.

"Our family crest." Lestat said with an emotional voice, his smile proud. "The time has come for you to truly understand who and what we are. I hope you value the name as much as I do."

She gave a watery grin and launched herself into his arms. "Not nearly as much as I value the man who gave it to me." She pulled back and slipped the ring on. "Oh, papa, it's beautiful! I love it. Daddy, look! Look!" She turned to Louis with an innocent happiness.

Louis looked at Lestat's face and how it morphed into a look of fatherly pride before he looked to his daughter. "It's gorgeous, baby." Then he flourished his hand and bowed before her, reaching out to hold her hand. "Madame de Lioncourt."

She curtsied. "Monsiour de Pointe du Lac." She gave him her hand and they began to waltz around the room without music. Laughter spilled from them both.

Lestat settled himself at the piano, beginning a soft simple tune. He watched as his daughter danced with a light in her eyes she'd had ever since he found her.

Lissette felt herself grow comfortable, flinging herself around the room like a wild girl. Daddy smiled and laughed with her and that was the day she promised herself she'd never leave him.

( Daniel: So even with the drawbacks, you managed to have a childhood.

Lissette: A wonderful childhood. Full of love and art and affection. Don't get me wrong, there were always going to be things lacking, but isn't that true for every life?

Daniel: Well, most kids you know, see the sun every once in a while. Socialise with other kids, talk to someone other than their parents and their parents workers.

Lissette: If you're trying to say they fucked up, Danny, you're not wrong. But what parent didn't?

Daniel knew she was trying to excuse every mistake her fathers had made with her. She may have said she hated Lestat but her eyes told a different story. She may have said that she had forgiven Louis, but every time a hurtful memory came forward, she wouldn't meet his eyes.

Children very rarely saw their parents the way Lissette did, as infallible. Louis was an angel to her, her beautiful angel. He'd never really make a mistake in her eyes. He thought that, unaware of what would come after the last Mardi Gras Lissette would ever celebrate.

The day her heart would break into a million pieces, along with her mind. )

__________________________________________

AN: so…this was a WAY too long chapter, but I really wanted to introduce Lissette and sort of her dynamic with Louis, Lestat, Armand and Daniel. My next few posts will be one-shots from a lot later in the show, so they won’t be in chronological order but I will provide context for each of them. I hope y’all enjoyed this!

[bitethedevil]

Raphael dealing with another fiend that is offering something to the cambion in exchange for an entire night with Tav. Not Haarlep in Tav's form, but Tav. Now, two things about this fiend: 1. They want to know what's so special about Raphael's little mouse and experience it for themself. 2. This fiend is extremely sadistic and refuses to agree to any deal that would stipulate Tav ends up unharmed or even alive by the time the mortal is returned because, "I think we both know I can't promise that."

It's a bit of a short one. Raph loses his patience. Thank you for the prompt <3 <3 as always: it’s not super edited.

TW: Mention of Non-con

Diplomacy

Being the Archdevil of Avernus only came with so much power. Though Raphael had delegated his responsibility to others, seeing as he was not exactly the fierce army general that Zariel had been and Bel before her, the Blood War was currently a mess. Him gaining his new position had caused just enough chaos that they had fallen behind in the war.

Raphael needed resources, the cooperation of the other layers, and most of all he needed for them to trust in his leadership. Unfortunately, trust was the most rare and expensive resource in the Hells, and it did not come for free. There was not a devil in the Hells that was not forced to participate in the Blood War, such was the laws, though when and how was an entirely different matter. Raphael needed men now.

He could simply use the Crown of Karsus to force someone to hand over their men, though he was also painfully aware that the more his power relied on the Crown, the easier it would be for him to lose it, should it somehow slip out of his fingers. He was careful and he played fair…for now. He might not be an army general or a soldier, but he was a strategist.

He was talking to a fiend from Dis that could grant him thousands of men immediately. The conversation was going well. It seemed promising, though Raphael also knew that this was not going to be cheap. They finally reached the end of the fiend’s pitch.

“A very generous offer indeed,” Raphael said calmly while holding back any sign that he desperately needed this deal. “What is your price?”

The fiend gave him a wicked smile.

“Five hundred souls,” the fiend said.

Raphael raised an eyebrow.

“And…?” Raphael said with a hand gesture to urge him on. “Surely you would not sell your army to me for such a low cost.”

“Five hundred souls, my lord,” he repeated. “And a night with that little mortal of yours.”

Raphael’s eyes narrowed.

“And which mortal would that be?” Raphael asked. ��I have thousands of mortals under my thumb across Toril. Be specific.”

He had an idea of who he thought the fiend meant, but he hoped that he was mistaken.

“You know who,” the fiend said. “Your little favorite. The one that gave you your crown. The one that my connections say you are still visiting even now. I want to know what’s so special about her.”

The familiar feeling of anger started bubbling up in him, though he tried to keep it down. This was a powerplay. A powerplay to show him that he was being watched and that the fiend had no respect for him.

“She’s not mine,” Raphael said with a dismissive hand gesture. “She fulfilled her end of the bargain. Her soul is hers. The only reason I visit her is to convince her to hand it over to me. I have not succeeded yet so I cannot give you what you want.”

“Ah but I think you’re lying,” the fiend countered. “Five hundred souls and her. That’s my price. I won’t change it.”

Raphael’s claws were starting to dig into the arms of the chair he was sitting in. The sheer audacity of this other devil was infuriating. He would not let himself be accused of lying or spoken to in such a way, and yet he was now forced to if he wanted to get what he needed from him.

“I’ve told you,” Raphael said. “I cannot give you what I don’t have. I have an incubus in my possession who has her form. That is something I can offer you.”

The fiend shook his head with that same annoying grin on his face.

“Her,” the fiend said. “I won’t settle for less. I know you can convince her. She likes you, doesn’t she? Trusts you, even. You can lure her somewhere, I’ll use a glamour spell to look like you, and do my business. It’s perfectly legal, and no contract needed. It’s only for a night.”

It took everything to keep down the rage that Raphael felt spreading through his body. If he agreed to this, he would never get her to give him her soul. Besides, he did not treat his favorite clients this way. Especially the one who gave him everything he had ever wanted. And yet, he needed this deal. He had to entertain the idea at least.

“I would perhaps consider it,” Raphael said and raised a finger to him. “If…you can guarantee me her survival and that no unnecessary harm comes to her. You will persuade her, not take her against her will.”

The fiend burst out laughing. Raphael ground his teeth in irritation at the sound.

“She’s mortal,” the fiend said. “Of course she’ll be harmed. Fragile little things that lot. You want me to seduce her? Offer her serenades and roses?” The fiend laughed even harder. “You won’t survive for long as the Archdevil of the First, boy.”

Complete silence fell over the room for a moment

“Boy?” Raphael repeated slowly, his tone dripped with warning.

“Yes. A boy,” the fiend said with a grin. “That mortal part of you is surely there, bastard. I would never have thought Mephistopheles son to be this soft…Ah, no matter. You said the girl wasn’t yours, eh? I’ll stay in your good graces then. Five hundred souls. I’ll find the bitch myself then. That’ll keep you out of any trouble. I’ll even be so kind to give her something that will make her lie there nicely without protest while I fuck her, since your heart is so soft for the girl.”

Raphael took a deep breath and suddenly something changed in his expression.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Raphael said. He was suddenly eerily calm. “In fact, I’m suddenly not in a particularly generous mood, so you will hand over your men without any payment.”

“You what?” the fiend said with a flat chuckle, as if the thought was ridiculous.

“You heard me just fine,” Raphael said with a smile. “I’ll expect them on the front lines tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not,” the fiend said.

Raphael waved his hand, and the fiend was shoved through the room. His magic pinned him to the nearest wall. The fiend’s eyes glowed purple as Raphael dominated his mind. Raphael walked over to him with slow steps.

“They will be there tomorrow,” Raphael said slowly. “I will speak with ‘my little favorite’. I will tell her of your little offer and see if she wants to play with you a little first. The girl is awfully sloppy with a knife, but she can take her time, seeing as you are going to lie there nicely without protest. After, you will be with your men on the front lines, as a lemure. Do you understand your orders?”

The fiend mindlessly nodded.

“Good,” Raphael said with a wide smile. “A pleasure doing business with you. Now, go order your men.”

So much for diplomacy…