#Louis and lestat in the distance: you rang? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leam1983 · 1 year

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Stellar Mass Black Hole

There's a scene in the new Interview with the Vampire series where Lestat tries to win back Louis' affection across several decades. He pops on by, leaves a gift or two, and his diseased mix of earnestness and manipulation goes unanswered. Even so, you can always sense that Lestat's pull is a constant force, something Louis experiences even as his loathing the man and properly assessing the abuse he's endured are enough to keep him at bay - for a while.

It's like staring into a black hole from the absolute limit of any safe distance, according to astrophysicists. You can see Spacetime being warped out of shape just ahead of you, what Is gets twisted into unrecognizable shapes as an irrepressible force just brushes right past you...

That's what's happened, this morning.

We finished our coffees and seeing as none of us were on active duty for the day, we settled in for a day of personal projects. I was working on my miniPC for the office when the doorbell rang. Sarah was in the john and Walt had stepped out back to take care of the trash, so I walked up to the front door.

The guy who was waiting there was classically pretty, like a dark-haired sybaritic type, half Classical bust and half Jaz Coleman from Killing Joke from about twenty years back. Very expensively dressed, with a smile that probably made several knees fail.

"Hi, um; I was in the neighbourhood and I'd checked the phone book, I think Walter George lives here, now? I'm..."

Let's call him Budget Patrick Bateman. Walt's vampire, here in the flesh. I imagined the late winter sunlight making his sculptured hair sizzle. I pictured globs of fluid pushing out of his immaculately cut cheekbones. Ice crept up my face.

"Walt's out of the house for the moment. I don't know when he'll be back," I said, hoping I sounded blunt enough.

He smiled in that way I'd been told about, like a chess player recognizing a fellow tactician. "Can you tell him I stopped by?"

I feel him sizing me up in an instant. There's an unmistakable glint of contempt in there. Crooked posture, lazy eye, glasses, Geek Cred tee-shirt... He's just filed me as cute, here meaning deserving of pity.

Courtesy has me agree to do so, for now. He hands me his business card and I have to fight back an eye-roll at the self-importance of the gesture. I shut the door on him and he lingers for just half-a-second too long.

I turn, and see Walt standing in the corridor, his face a total blank. When he steps forward, it's to take the card from me with robotic precision, tear it into pieces and let them fall where they may as he crushes me against him.

"Don't ever open this door for him again, Grem," he whispers in my ear, with the energy of desperation. There's anger in there, not towards me - and a ton of fear.

So that's what an event horizon feels like.

#life post

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not-a-princess-but-a-queen · 6 years

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Vampire!Eliot au

So this might not be exactly what you wanted but I’m closet Anne Rice trash and the first thing that sprung to mind is Q and El as a less toxic version of Louis and Lestat….. so have a bit of that! Also tagging @ohmypreciousgirl cuz she helped me!

Quentin walked the night streets in a daze, head abuzz with alchohol. His father had finally sucumbed to his cancer, leaving him alone in the world. He walked until his feet ached and the moon rose high in the sky.

He found himself near the river, boats docked at harbor surrounded him. He leaned heavily against one and closed his eyes. He began to nodd off when he felt someone grab ahold of him and the cool kiss of steel on his neck.

“Give me your money,” a voice hissed.

Quentin couldn’t bring himself to move, if this was how it was to end, then so be it. However the was a shout and the man was yanked back and he heard the sound of a splash as he hit the water. Another pair of arms were around him and Quentin felt himself lifted up into the air before a sharp searing pain and then a numbing bliss took over him. As he felt himself growing weaker, he was dropped into the water, barley wincing at the impact. He managed to pull himself back onto shore before passing out.

…………………….

Quentin was half dilarious, laying on the hospital’s bed. He drifted in and out of concuouness before snapping awake at the feeling of eyes on him.

He flinched at the presence in the shadows before freezing as he stepped into the light. Before him was a man, tall, lithe, and with thick dark curls atop his head. As he stepped toward the bed, the man played with the sleves of his shirt up and with the bright silk vest he wore, gold buttons gleaming in the candle light.

“Who are you?” Quentin croaked.

The man hummed and made his way to stand by his side. “I’m Eliot. You’re dieing,” he siad in a low soothing voice. “I can let you die, if you wish. If you want to live, I can help you. Sickness, disease, and old age will never touch you. You will be for all time. Do you want that?”

Quentin frowned watching the man through fevered, lidded eyes. “Yes.”

Eliot nodded, a pleased smirk on his face. “I’ll be back tommorow night. I suggest you say your goodbyes to the light.”

With that, he vanished leaving Quentin blinking after him.

The next night Quentin found himself out in the courtyard on the hospital, watching the sunset. As the last of the rays went down, he felt a presence behind him. He turned to see Eliot lounging against a old stone wall, watching him.“Are you ready?”

Quentin nodded and hummed, turning to him and taking a breath. The next he knew Eliot was on him, fangs in his neck. What little strength he had was leaving him, until something warm delicious fell on his mouth. He licked it up and latched onto the source like a man dieing of thirst. He wasn’t sure how long he drank until Eliot grunted and ripped his wrist from Quentin’s mouth, both of them panting. Before Quentin could gather his wits, a wave of pain hit him and he convoulged, writhing on the ground.

Eliot crawled to him, steading him and shusing him. “Your body is dieing, it happens to us all,” he hummed.

He held Quentin and ran his hands through his long, slightly damp hair until it was over. Eventually Quentin stilled and sat up, blinking at the new world.

……

“What did you see?” the young woman, Julia, asked. She leaned toward Quentin in her chair, entranced.

Quentin shrugged. “Might as well as your goddess what she sees. Statues seemed to move, but didn’t. Life buzzed around me. I was a newborn vampire, weeping at the beauty of the world.”

Julia frowned and sat back, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. Before she could speak her phone rang and she answered it. “Hey. Yeah, I’m still here but it’s a dead end. OK, I’m on my way back. See you soon.”

She hung up and stood, gathering her bag. “I should go. Thank you for talking to me. I have to admit, you’re not what I was expecting.”

Quentin smirked, amused. “You’re not the first to say so. And you’re welcome. I’m sorry Eliot wasn’t here to answer you’re questions. Let’s just say the vampire community has been going through some changes and it’s made him quite busy.”

“It’s fine, i appriciate you talking to me anyway,” Julia chuckled and slung her things over her shoulder, heading for the door. She was about to open it but paused when Quentin called out to her. She glanced over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

“Julia,” he frowned. “Be careful. I speak from experience when I say not all gods are benevolent.”

She frowned but nodded, seeing herself out.

Quentin sighed before sitting back down and rubbing at his temples. Mixing with gods never ended well, even for immortals.

He was interupted by a soft whoshing and an arm around his shoulders. “Thank you for dealing with that, my love. You know how I feel about Hedge Witches,” his maker hummed noseing behind his ear.

Quentin smirked and leaned back, baring his neck, which Eliot nipped at playfully. “How was the concil meeting? My king,” he hummed.

Eliot huffed. “Boring. I still can’t believe they elected me. I’m not even an Old One! I’m barely five centuries.”

Quentin chuckled and shook his head. “Thats what you get for making a spectical of yourself. And besides, I think you’re going to be a great king,” he stood, turning and woshsing up Eliot in a hug.

Eliot hummed and rested his chin on top of Quentin’s head. “Margo wants to go hunt. Care to join us?”

The younger nodded and gave a gentle squeeze before letting go and stepping back. “Let me change,” he said.

He speed to his room and changed into less formal and more modern clothing, just jeans and a X Files t shirt. He knew it would be cold out to humans so he threw a flannel on to keep up appearences. He drew his hair back to keep it clean and give Eliot better acess to his neck later. With that he made his way through the house, ducking other visiting vampires who tried to talk to him and finding Eliot and Margo waiting for him in the foyer.

Margo rolled her eyes at him and tapped her foot impatiently. “Come on, I’m hungry.” she huffed.

Quentin rolled his eyes and glanced at Eliot. “Remind me why you made her?” he teased his blood sister.

“Because if we were left alone we would have torn eachothers throats out,” Eliot pointed out.

Quentin hummed and nodded agreeing. “True.”

Margo huffed and shook her head. “You two are pathetic. That meeting went on forever and I’m starving. See you losers later.” With that she was off, her heels clicking into the distance

Eliot looped his arm with Quentin’s and together they went out into the night, all thoughts but hunger put aside.

#the magicians #queliot #eliot waugh #quentin coldwater #My writing

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