#lestat de lioncourt x reader

[slasher-male-wife]

Yandere Lestat and Louis x GN reader headcanons

This is my first time writing for Louis and Lestat so I'm sorry if this is kind of out of character for them. Also I'm basing this off of the 1994 movie portrayal of the characters.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, cheating on reader (not my Lestat or Louis), murder, forced blood drinking mentioned, manipulative behavior, unhealthy relationships, slight au

Lestat had befriended a local artist in France where they're currently staying. Lestat had heard about this artist's muse and brought Louis along to meet them. When both men followed the artist into the studio there, waiting on a chaise lounge was you. Your outfit was most likely some kind of sleepwear that’s trending. Your hair, your body, your smile, all of it drew both men in. They could tell why this artist has dedicated you as his muse. 

When they saw you they knew they had to have you. Louis was hesitant to really admit to wanting you to be all theirs, but Lestat had no problem talking openly to Louis about how much he desired you. 

Soon both men began to shower you with affection away from your boyfriend. Lestat was all about taking you out on the town and buying you gifts, being very physical. While Louis was content to talk with you privately about whatever came across your minds. 

They spent whatever time they could looking at the art your boyfriend made of you. Lestat went as far as to offer to buy some paintings of you. But sadly they weren’t for sale, so he opted to steal drawings of you. 

After establishing a relationship with you, that's when they began to try and separate you from your boyfriend. Lestat would plant the ideas in your head and Louis would be there to comfort you through it all. “I’ve seen him around town, looking at other people the way he looks at you.” Lestat would say. “You deserve so much better than him Y/N. I promise you that.” Louis would add. 

Louis would be hesitant to keep going with this plan, feeling like he’s building a relationship with you on nothing but lies. But Lestat would be there to tell Louis that this is what’s best for you, that they would be the best people to take care of you. So Louis would feel less guilty over time about this. 

They’d also start to get your boyfriend to see other people, encouraging him to cheat on you just so their plan could be set into motion. Louis would take a little convincing to actually get in fully on this plan but Lestat would get him on board in the end. 

They’d set it up so you’d catch your boyfriend cheating on you during the night. You’d run over to Louis and Lestat’s house and there they would be to comfort you about what you just saw. After you fall asleep they’ll go to your ex-boyfriend's house and kill him and the person he was cheating on you with, draining them of all their blood. 

They’ll then have to explain to you what they are. Louis would break it to you gently and promise you that they’d never do anything to hurt you. Lestat would offer to turn you too and give you a couple days to think it over. 

They’d set up a letter to give you from your “Partner” that says he fled to another country with his new partner. This will hopefully send you over the edge and get you to let them turn you into a vampire. If it doesn’t they’ll manipulate you into it anyway. 

Once you’re turned they’ll start to spoil you even more for letting them turn you, trying to prove to you that you made the perfect decision by letting them turn you. 

Lestat will want you to drink from humans immediately while Louis will understand if you’re hesitant. But both of them won’t let you drink from animals. So if you’re not drinking from humans they’ll force feed you blood. 

If you ever think about leaving they’ll manipulate you into staying. What other vampire would want you? Can you really trust someone else after your last boyfriend? It’s best to stay with them, they were the ones who turned you after all. 

Louis is a softer yandere. He’ll be more comforting and won’t be as explicit with his manipulation tactics and possessiveness. Lestat is far more open with his yandere behavior. He’ll outright manipulate you and yell at you if you talk about leaving. Louis will comfort you after and Lestat will eventually apologize just so you don’t hate him. 

You’re not going to leave them, that’s not an option. You’re stuck with them forever. If you try to leave they’ll track you down and they’ll lock you in their house if that’s necessary. 

#interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt x reader #louis de pointe du lac x reader #lestat x reader #louis de pointe du lac x you #interview with the vampire x reader

[marytudorr]

Blood baths~

Lestat de Lioncourt x Afab!vampire!reader

~~~~~~~~~

Warning: fingering, blood baths, lestat being a little bitch, cheating?(hes married to the reader but he’s with Louis but reader isn’t iyk), neck nibbling? I think that all xx

Also this is my first time writing smut so might not that good idk

Please like and reblog❤️

~~~~~

The cherry red liquid dripped from the brass jug, as it hit the warm water it diluted and the water turned a copper colour, getting darker and darker as you continued poring. Once the jug was empty you slipped off your robe, exposing your body to the cool air of the bathroom. a great contrast to when you climbed into the tub and sank into the warm plasma.

Your muscles relaxed as you leaned back against the bath wall and you let out a sigh of content.throughout the day you had to suffer with a constant teasing from your husband, the seductive looks and gestures mixed with the fact you hadn’t fucked in nearly week due to him busying himself with Louis made you not only furious but extremely libidinous.

When you and Lestat were closer in your marriage(before he had met Louis) he had introduced to you blood baths, he wasn’t entirely fond but you became obsessed with them and you commonly took them, sometimes with him. The tradition had faded over time but recently as you became close again your desire of the baths grew with your desire of the vampire.

The metallic scent drifted through your nose straight to your head, triggering the memories of the times you and Lestat had made love while soaking in the blood of your victims. You tilted your head back and closed your eyes, arousal gathered between your thighs as lust clouded your senses.

Your hand drifted between across your stomach towards your groin, your fingers then dipped between your folds and you stated slowly circling your clit, letting out quiet gasps. As you kept stroking your bud, all your thoughts were occupied by the man who had tormented you all day.As your fingers entered your heat cause your whimpers and little sighs to get louder.

Lestat had come to find you, hoping to make you suffer a tad bit more but when he entered your chambers with a giant smirk and stopped in front of you adjoined bathroom, something caught his attention. First it was the strong scent of copper then as he got closer, it was the familiar lewd sounds he recognised to only come from you. He cracked open the door and peaked through to see you with a leg propped up on the tub wall, your hand between your legs and head tilted back. If your eyes hadn’t been closed you would’ve made eye contact with him in an instant, but alas they weren’t so he just stood there and watched.

Just as he was planning to stop you, to increase your misery, you let out a sound that froze him. “Mhm~ Lestat, fuck.” Just at the sound of his name falling from your lips he let out a quiet growl and rushed to kneel beside the bath tub, his lips right up against you ear. “Do you know what you do to me when you say my name like that, dear wife?” Lestat groaned and your eyes shot open but your movement failed to cease.

“Lestat-“ You were cut off by your husband kissing you neck passionately, nipping and biting at your sweet spot making your body jolt and volume increase. “Lestat please- please touch me” you pleaded, thanking every god out there when he started to copy your earlier actions and his hand made its way to your heat. You removed your hand and he cupped your pussy and coated his thick fingers in your arousal.

He let out a low moan at how wet you were, running his fingers back and forth until he pressed them against your entrance, slowly inching in, still teasing you. “Don’t tease,husband” you warned, but Lestat ignored you and continued to tease your hole. You whimpered and tilted your head to the side to make eye contact with him, your lips inched closer together and just as they met he shoved two fingers into you and you let out a desperate moan into his mouth.

Your lips moved against each other eagerly, moaning into one another’s mouths. You parted for breath and you glanced down towards Lestat’s hand, his sleeve was soaked in blood up to his elbow and his hand was making deliberate slow movements under the blood-stained water. You whined at this and he let out an amused chuckle. “That desperate are we? Have I left you in want all day, mon ange?” He teased.

After what felt like a century long wait, he decided to take “mercy” on you and his skilled fingers sped up, the sudden change in pace catching you off guard and making you let a shamefully loud moan. You threw your head back once again and your back arched slightly, giving Lestat a perfect view of your flushed chest and the marks he had left on your neck. Your husband began to feel elated too, the scent of the blood and your own arousal acted as an aphrodisiac to him, driving him insane.

He restarted his assault on your neck, your moans and whimpers were continuous as your stomach tightened with each trust of his long fingers. Your body thrived on the pleasure you were receiving and your back arched even more, making your nipples harden when confronted with the cool air.

“Lestat- I’m close…please” You sobbed as your turned towards him once again. He lifted his head from your neck and placed his forehead against yours, the intimacy only made the coil in your stomach tighten as you looked at him with pleading eyes. He smirked as he placed his thumb on top of your clit.

“Cum, mon cherié. Cum for me.” He commanded and you snapped, crying out as pure ecstasy took over your body and you swore you could see stars. Your body convulsed from the pleasure, twitching every time lestat would thrust his fingers into you to help you ride out your orgasm. As it faded you slumped against the bath and you had only just realised you had closed your eyes.

As you let out heavy breaths, you slowly opened your eyes only to see Lestat watching you intensely, blue eyes blown with lust. He withdrew his fingers from your cunt, making eye contact as he brought them up to his lips, sucking the cum and blood from them. “We must do this again, chère” he uttered as he stood up, he caressed your cheek with his thumb, smiling at you as he left the bathroom. You watched him in astonishment then let out an amused scoff.

If he thought that was all you wanted off him after today, he was mistaken. You silently thought to yourself as you planned out your vengeance.

#lestat smut #lestat de lioncourt #lestat de lioncourt smut #lestat de lioncourt x reader #the vampire lestat #lestat x reader #amc iwtv #iwtv #iwtv 2022 #smut #interview with the vampire #vampire #vampire smut #vampire x reader

[coryosbaby]

Come back to me, please !

Fandom: “Queen of the Damned”

Pairing: Sub! Lestat De Lioncourt x fem! Reader

Synopsis: You return to your lover.

Cw: blood drinking, nsfw . handjobs, p n v, riding, creampie, cockwarming

A bath.

A bubble bath, to be exact— equipped with strawberry scented soap, rose petals and epsom salts. Lestat, there, at the far corner of the large tub. And your robe, with a soft flourish, dropping to the floor.

Your long lost love, beautiful & almost god like, was hard to find. But after all these years, he’s finally come home to you.

His eyes are glazed, playful. He watches as you step inside the tub. Naked, you’re the most beautiful thing Lestat has ever seen. Sitting down at the opposite end of him, you turn the lights in the room down with a flick of your wrist.

“The roses are a nice touch,” Lestat teases to you. A small smirk plays on his lips. “Always.. extra. As usual.”

“And you’ve missed it?”

Of course he has. He’s missed every single part of you. Most of all, the spot between your legs— the spot that’s hidden under crimson petals.

“I may have.”

The water rushes. Lestat leans forward, beginning to crawl to you. A predator catching his prey, almost. But you know that’s not why he’s approaching you.

He wants to be the hunted. He wants you to take control, as you always have.

His body, perfectly lean and pale, leans into you. His breath is hot on your lips, as he sits on his knees. You smirk, watching as his eyes beg to touch you. He can feel your blood rushing— pump, pump, pump. His favorite meal. He leans in, fangs brushing over your neck. But you tsk, and grasp his hair firmly in your hands. You pull him away.

“I don’t think so,” you say. “What have you done to deserve this, Lestat?”

He exhales heavily, and when your thumb brushes against his bottom lip he nicks it with his teeth.

“I’ve waited for you,” he states. “I’ve waited all this time…”

He breathes you in. Watches the way your face looks incredibly pleased.

“Please, my love.”

And oh, when he begs. Perfect, silky and angelic toned in such a way that is not him. So eager, so needy…

You hesitate for a moment, but alas you can’t say no to him.

“Only a little.” You warn.

The answer has him keening against you, smiling as his hands pull your head to the side. And with spit slick lips he sinks his fangs into you. Your eyes roll back, a gasp leaving your lips as he suckles from your jugular. While most are pained when fed, the feeling of Lestat being inside you in more ways than one has you moaning and pleading for him to drain the life from your eyes.

“Oh, gods…”

Your vision gets blurry, and with a shaky but firm voice you whisper, “Darling, that’s enough.”

Lestat, although one not known for his sense of control, listens. He pulls from you, biting his own lips and licking them hastily. He doesn’t want to waste a drop of your essence. You tilt your head back and try to compose yourself. You recover quickly from things, so it only takes you a few seconds to feel back to normal again.

Your hands wrap around Lestat’s neck, and you push him against the wall of the tub. You turn around so you’re in his original position, and he groans as your sharp nails dig into his neck.

“My turn,” you say.

Your lips graze his neck and chest. The neck would be where you get the most blood, but you want to drag this out— it’s what you’ve always done in intimate times like these. Break Lestat down, sink your teeth deep. Make him hazy and desperate with lust. He looks best when he’s in pieces.

You bring a finger up to one of his nipples. You rub him there, and he lets out a tiny whine. Your fangs scrape against it, and right below this spot you decide to sink your fangs in him. Suckling, his taste is absolutely divine. He whimpers, and you watch as his gorgeous head of hair tilts back in a sort of pained/pleasured stance.

Oh, Lestat.

It’s the most pleasure you’ve ever felt— Lestat.

There, your little fledgling, naked with his cock hard and feeding you the most important part of him.

Your fangs leave him and make another spot right next to that one, on the very other side. You drink, drink, drink. Blood runs down your chin, neck, breasts, and into the water below. You leave him, find another spot— his neck. Perfect, warm crimson. All yours.

Lestat doesn’t tell you to let up. He’s gotten like this, ever since the two of you had first made love. He would let you drain him of everything he had if it forsake your satisfaction. His vision almost goes out for a moment, before you pull away. You always know when it’s too much for him.

You chuckle, pleasured and full.

But not full enough, you decide.

You brush against his cock, hidden under the water. He’s thick, long. You know if you were to taste him right now it would be just as good as his blood. But that can wait for another day— you wrap your hand around him and stroke.

His lashes flutter, mouth falling open. He’s dizzy, horny, hot… how ironic. A vampire, all hot and bothered.

“Oh, thank you, goddess..” he praises. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much..”

You smile. Your hand speeds up, and for the first time that night you bring yourself up and kiss him. Your teeth clack together at first, but you soon adjust and sloppily press your lips against your lover’s. Your cunt clenches, empty. You need to feel his cock inside you soon, or you think you’ll go crazy. Your free hand scrapes against the nape of his neck and he whines out for you to fuck him.

“And I will, darling,” you reply to him. Your hand leaves his aching cock and wraps around his neck. You rest your face in his neck as you grab his cock with your other hand and position it below your entrance. You slick yourself up by rubbing his throbbing tip against your clit. It feels so nice, and you press him into your hole with one swift stroke. Lestat moans loudly, his hands going down to your hips to push you further down onto his thick cockhead. You adjust in due time, though it takes a moment. You’ll never get used to his size.

“My good little fledgling,” you purr, almost like a cat. “Does your cock get this hard for all those little blood whores you bring home?”

The words are teasing, but have a hint of malice to them. You don’t like sharing your things, and your jealousy hasn’t gone unnoticed by Lestat since you’ve returned. Though you know no woman could compare to you, the stupidity of men has never been an impossibility. But, regardless, Lestat seems equally as revolted by the idea.

“Never,” he grunts out. His fingers spread your asscheeks as to bottom out harder in you. “You’re the only woman I want, the only one I’ll ever need…”

You mewl, beginning to bounce on him. He feels so thick, fills you up so perfectly. His hips are moving up, fucking into you from underneath. You can feel your clit brushing up against his pelvis, can feel his pubic hair brushing up against you. It’s pure bliss. You pull on his hair with one hand and kiss him again.

“I bet you thought about me when you fucked those whores,” you mutter out. “I bet you thought about my wet cunt, filling me up with your cum. Thought about my mouth, my hands…”

“I never—“

He gasps when you clench down on him.

“Oh, I never fucked them!” he whimpers out. “I couldn’t! I was waiting for you to come back, goddess. I couldn’t— I couldn’t. I’ve always been yours.”

You’re pleased by his answer, and he throbs inside of you. By the look on his face you can tell that he’s close.

“Mine.” You growl out. Your grip on him tightens as your possessiveness glazes your features. “That’s right. All fucking mine.”

And as his hips stutter and he chokes up on his words, you make sure to leave a long, deep scratch on his collar bone. A marking, a symbol of your ownership.

“Cum inside me.” You demand to him. “Fill up my pussy. Show me you’re mine.”

He whines, loud. His cock spills thick ropes into your cunt and fills you to the brim. He reaches down, rubs your clit with his fingers. Your orgasm washes over you in gigantic waves. Lestat always makes sure to give you a release, and that you’re thankful for.

A few moments pass, as you both breathe heavily. His cock is softened inside you, but you both make no move to remove yourselves for each other. Lestat seems exhausted, tired. His eyes drift close against your chest as you sit there on top of him.

Yours.

#queen of the damned #Lestat de lioncourt #Lestat de Lioncourt x reader #Lestat de Lioncourt smut #Lestat queen of the damned #queen of the damned fanfic #vampires #I ❤️ vampires

[loppsided]

l. de lioncourt as your boyfriend

summary: headcanons for boyfriend lestat

pairing: lestat de lioncourt x reader

wc: 302

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of death/killing

a/n: writing for the best fictional vampire yep! again, requests are open, send something for any character on my masterlist! likes and reblogs appreciated.

you were turned by lestat after louis almost killed you (like claudia) and he was immediately enamored by you

buying you elaborate and expensive gifts to please you

teaching you how to play the piano and any other instrument you were interested in

him opening up to you about how he was turned, talking about how it was, being by himself

you and him growing closer that night as you consoled him

you him and louis going to fancy balls and rich parties together to find some rude upperclassmen to dine on

him helping you with the initial guilt of killing after becoming a vampire

you sharing the same hunger as him so he quickly see's himself in you

sharing a coffin together, you holding on to him as you slept while he played in your hair

a very gentle kisser, takes your chin with his fingers and tilts your head up to grasp your lips

slow dancing to orchestral music

having to deal with his anger outbursts every once and while, calming him down and reassuring him everything would be ok

him taking you to paris, milan, tokyo, anywhere you wanted to go

reading together in the huge library he built for you

him getting you the most expensive and high quality dresses or suits

him comforting you when you talk about how much you miss seeing the sun

going to plays together, laughing loudly in the back at how silly they are

him telling you everything he knows from his many years of being alive, never failing to keep you interested as he details his endeavors

you initially having a hard time getting along with him, but slowly warming up to him

debating current issues to keep yourselves entertained since nights can be boring

being spoiled by him constantly

#lestat de lioncourt #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat de lioncourt 1994 #lestat de lioncourt x fem!reader #the vampire chronicles #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire 1994 #iwtv fic #iwtv 1994 #the vampire lestat #lestat de lioncourt x you

[ransprang]

thank you @qlassicc for supporting our kofi <3 here is your first boi hehe :3

if anyone else wants personalised hcs this is our ko-fi

Interview with the vampire - Lestat de lioncourt - SFW HCs

How you meet: You caught Lestat’s eye from across the ballroom floor, and he knew he had to taste you. You liked the way he looked at you, the way he exuded power. You followed him to his chambers but were enraged when you realized he had another woman waiting there who began pawing at Lestat. You saw red and next thing you knew, the woman was dead and Lestat was looking at you like you were the greatest thing he had ever seen.

Lestat would be down to spoil you, especially with gifts. He’d buy you lavish jewelry, like necklaces and ballroom gown dresses. 

Absolutely LOVES your clinginess. He is clingy himself putting his arms around you, cuddling with you, and stealing kisses throughout the day. 

Since he plays the violin and piano, he’d be down to have a music collab. You can write him some rap and rnb sheets, and he’ll go wild on those instruments bringing dope ass music to that victorian era. 

Lestat is totally okay with you sleeping a ton. If you fall asleep he’ll read some of his books and stroke your hair gently every now and then. Cat-energy.

Being a free spirit and a bit of a man-whore, Lestat would occasionally act out, trying to get your yandere side out. He would relish in the bloodlust he saw in your eyes, knowing that you were getting jealous seeing his flirty actions. He'd laugh and reassure you at the end of the day he loves you

Lestat would turn you into a vampire, and you both would terrorize the neighborhood together.

Lestat can mold himself to suit whichever personality you have on for the day. He is a man with years of experience and a lot of knowledge. He will show you a new side of him everyday. 

He loves it when you are clingy, he enjoys your attention, your devotion. Every bit of it, he feeds off your blood and love. You are Lestat’s favourite.

Lestat would love to take you by the sea side, perhaps a graveyard beside it. A peaceful bliss for a few moments as you both watch the waves crash and the silence of the dead. It is truly his most romantic escape.

your rap lyrics,

admins sar, san & sav

#interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt x reader #interview with the vampire x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire 1994 #yandere interview with the vampire #artist on kofi #kofi #kofi commission #ko fi page #fanfic commissions #commissions open #open commissions #writing commissions #commissions #commission

[inklore]

crucified

premise: when his fingers slip between your open thighs you know there’s no other god you’d give yourself over to. no other god who can feed you, starve you, with such a loving hand.

pairing: lestat de lioncourt x human!reader

word count: 852

contents: blood and blood drinking, cult au, scars, inflicted wounds and cuts mentioned, foreplay, ownership kink, religious undertones.

note: if there's a sign up sheet i'm at the top of it hehe.

haunted hoedown day seven.

The cuts no longer hurt. 

No longer give your flesh that rippling sting through your nervous system for longer than seconds before the euphoria hits. 

Before the reminder of why you’re cutting yourself open with a blade to begin with. Why your fingers and wrists stain with the smell of copper for days after because you’ve bled so much for him. 

Always for him. 

The scars on your flesh only grow the longer you stay here. Stay with him. Worship him the way a man like him thinks he should be worshiped. 

Except he’s not a man.

Inhuman. 

Monster. 

God. 

The titles mean less to you than the beauty of the magic that is him. 

Lestat. 

You have a backstory. Something sad and traumatic that explains how you got to be here. How you’re on your knees in front of him, blood spilling down your arm—a new scar for him to lick clean. To heal with his tongue as he drinks from the bounty you’ve presented for him. 

A symbol of your devotion.

A symbol of your love. 

But you can’t remember anything but Lestat. Can’t think of a thought that doesn’t have him wrapped up in it. That isn’t a chant screaming out his name or making your insides swell until you have no choice but to relieve the burning. 

Sometimes with your own hand.

Sometimes, when you’ve proven yourself, he'll help you. 

Rid you of an ache that he’s caused. Take pity and use your body for selfish needs that stick with someone even after they’re no longer human. 

“It’s what you were made for.” He’ll whisper in your ear as his hips roll slowly between your thighs. 

And you’ll eat it up. Cling to him like something small and fragile who doesn’t want to be weened off the poison that gives them their only comfort. 

It’s why you showed up here tonight. Why you’re in his room, at his alter, knees digging into the hard floor, blood dripping, hooded eyes looking up at his smiling face. 

His legs spread, back against the velvet covering of the chair he’s in. 

A throne for a god. 

A monster. 

There’s a plead on your dry lips, falling down to his feet, licking his ego. It makes his hips shift, makes something in his eyes turn from hunger to starvation—something worse than thirst, than want, than need.

He loves his pets, but he loves them even more when they're bleeding for him. 

When they need him.

Elation makes a weak smile pull up the corners of your mouth as you watch him move to his knees in front of you. Joining you on the floor, showing you that yes, he’s going to give you what you want, what you need, even if that means stooping down to your level of frailty, to show his mercy. To show the kindness of a good god. A god who loves his people just as long as they’re offering up their lives in his hands.

Their blood on a perfectly scarred wrist that he’s wrapping his lips around and sucking from. 

Gasps and whimpers, head pointed towards the sky, eyes fluttering, insides burning, as he feeds from you. As he takes your offering, your gift, what he’s owed, what you’ll always give him—what you’re made for. 

His lips parting from your flesh to run the tip of his tongue over the cut, wet mouth pressing against the rough skin of past cuts he’s had his mouth against—tongue inside, fingers scooping up your devotion and pressing to your lips so you can taste the sweetness for yourself. 

“Do you like it when I bleed for you?” Your vision no longer blurry as you murmur the words. As his mouth hangs open centimeters away from yours, blood drips from his bottom lip and onto your white nightgown. 

His hand coming to hold the side of your neck, nails skating across your sensitive skin, making your jaw twitch on a silent moan. “Yes, ma petite.” He whispers before pressing his mouth against yours.

Yes, little one.

Yes, darling.

Yes, meal.

“When you taste this sweet, how could I not?” His tongue licks into your mouth, coats your tastebuds in the coppery flavor of your own devotion. Of your own demise. “Swallow it. Swallow and see why I keep you around.” His palm presses against your throat, waiting, wanting, daring you to swallow against it. 

Waiting to feel your throat bob as you do what he says and take back what you’ve offered him. Replenishing your senses with the blood that already beats within your veins to keep you alive—that you’ve relinquished to the monster who only keeps you alive when you’re spilling yourself of that life.

But when his fingers slip between your open thighs—the skillful press and pull of them—you know there’s no other god you’d give yourself over to. No other god who can feed you, starve you, with such a loving hand as Lestat can. 

When you come on his fingers, you know that this is truly what you were made for. 

You were made for him.

#lestat x you #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat smut #iwtv fanfiction #lestat de lioncourt smut #lestat imagine #lestat de lioncourt x you #iwtv fic #haunted hoedown #tw blood

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Lestat falling for you, despite you being the opposite of him.

Lestat had been born flamboyant, you were sure of that - probably came out with that gorgeous head of blonde hair right from the womb, charming the doctor, making his mother fall madly in love with those big eyes of his. He displayed himself so naturally, always the center of attention and basking in it, even if it wasn’t always the positive type of attention. You were the quite opposite, head down, lack of eye contact, preferring to be in a corner rather than the center of the room, and yet - you belonged to one another from the first moment that he managed to get you to look at him.

“I have moved here for you,” He said, making his way towards you, with all eyes following. You have never had so many people looking at you at one time. It was disconcerting, to say the least. He asked for your hand, and under the pressure, you offered it. This handsome man, this well-dressed handsome man, was kissing the top of your hand as if you were intimate. “My soulmate.”

He pulled you up to dance, all while you were only trying to dine by yourself, catching a meal after a long day of working at the seamstress. Your hands were sore, little nicks and pricks from needles, thimbles jabbing into your skin day in and day out, thick fabrics causing you to dry, but that kiss - that seemed to take all of the aches and pains away. You ceded, once again, due to the pressure.

That was all it took. One look at you, and you were his Queen. One dance with him, and you knew that you had to step up to reign. It was both difficult and easy to love Lestat. The good times - they were so good. The dancing, the magnificent parties that he knew how to get into, the world travel, the money that he spent without a second’s thought. The bad times though, they were horrible. The transformation from human into vampire because you both lethally thought you could not live without one another, the endless sunsets and the missing of sunrises, the squabbling because you had an eternity together and grew bored, grew sick of one another.

He did treat you as a Queen, though. He thought of himself as King. Obviously. When you finally broke down and told him why you were like this, so shy, the abuses that you had gone through in your last courting, he spoke like a true King and it was off with his head. Or rather, his neck. He made a lovely lunch. You were never anything less than Lestat’s equal, which was more considerate than most people realized - only those that knew him knew how self-absorbed that he was, how narcissistic. He stopped taking lovers. He worshiped only you, each day, in the coffin that you shared, showing you that there was no need to hide, no need to be shy, for he would always adore you, always love you, and anyone who refused to see you in the same light would end up being your delicious dinner.

Requested by: Anonymous

#Lestat #Lestat de Lioncourt #Lestat x reader #Lestat imagines #Lestat de Lioncourt x reader #Lestat De Lioncourt imagines #Interview with the Vampire #AMC Interview with the Vampire #x reader #imagines #request

[tomriddleslovergirl]

Lestat x Reader x Louis dating headcanons

Warnings: Toxic relationship, fighting, murder

Louis wanted to leave Lestat so bad, but then there was you, his precious (Name).

Lestat held you over Louis’ head. Louis couldn’t leave if Lestat had you.

But Lestat did love you. He wouldn’t let Louis take you without a fight.

You loved them both and you didn’t understand why they fought. Louis thought that there was something that Lestat wasn’t telling both of you about vampirism. This is what they fought about most.

Louis remembered the night you first turned into a vampire. He was so angry when he found out that Lestat turned you into a vampire. His calm demeanor breaking as he heard your wails about being thirsty.

He threw Lestat into a wall, asking him how he could curse you with a lifetime of hell?

Louis would try to coax you into drinking animal blood, while Lestat would try to convince you to drink human blood.

Lestat would lowkey be a bitch if you decided to drink animal blood. Rolling his eyes whenever he saw you drinking from a rat.

But if you choose to drink human blood Louis would look at you silently, watching you take a human life.

Dates/ time spent together:

Louis would take you out on late night walks. Talking about whatever came to mind.

Quietly reading books next to each other, snuggled up against each other. Sometimes Louis would read to you.

Lestat would take you horse riding. Holding onto his chest and feeling the wind go through your hair.

Lestat would try to make a date out of hunting humans.

Lestat would teach you to play the piano and/or violin, and once you’ve learned you’d play together.

They both would dance with you at balls. Taking turns.

#interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire x reader #lestat de lioncourt x reader #louis pointe du lac x reader #lestat de lioncourt #louis pointe du lac #lestat x reader x louis

[prettykittycastle]

He Could Never Understand

Summary: Louis would never understand, Lestat thought. He would not get how addictive you are.

(The reader is gender-neutral. The ethnicity/race is preferably of color.)

(Content Warning: missionary, some French talk, P in V)

French Translation:

Mon Amour - My love

Tu m'appartiens. Et seulement à moi - You belong to me. And only me.

Ange - Angel

Louis could never know, Lestat reminded himself as he lowered his head between your legs, his light eyes glued to your growing wetness. He had barely touched you and you were already beginning to drip onto your bedsheets. All day he had been thinking about tasting your sweetness again, and finally he was going to.

Louis mustn't know, he told himself, leaning forward and slowly running his tongue up your center, savoring the juice that was flowing from you. Groaning at the taste, he closed eyes before closing his lips around your clit, already swollen from just being looked at, and lightly sucked on the pleasure bud.

"Lestat," you moaned lightly, gripping the bedsheets.

Opening his eyes, he brought a finger to your entrance, inserting it in with no trouble and quickly curled it, knowing it would make you moan louder.

"Oh," you let out, before letting go of the bedsheet and placing your hand over your mouth.

Pushing another finger in, he sucked harder on your bud, moaning at the feel of your juices beginning to run down his hand.

Louis would never understand, he told himself, curling his fingers harder inside you, rubbing against that spongy spot that he knew would have you rolling your eyes and crying out in need.

"Lestat," you whispered, your voice sounding weak behind your hand, hoping to not wake anyone in your home. "Please."

"I want it," he told you as he's told you every night before this one and will tell you every night after.

"Okay," you said, as you have said every night before this one and will say every night after. You opened your legs wider for him, eager to feel him inside you again.

At your agreeance, he placed a soft loving kiss on your clit, like he'd done every other night, and slowly pulled his fingers from inside you, a small rumble going through him at the sight of your slick on his fingers. He quickly brought them to his mouth to suck on then undid his pants, sliding them down to the floor, before crawling onto the bed, over your body till you and him were eye to eye.

"Will it always be mine," Lestat asked you, lowering his head closer to yours, your lips almost touching each other. You could feel him positioning his member at your entrance, the head lightly teasing you.

He asked you this every time he came to visit you, and like every other time, your answer was the same: "Always yours and only yours." And with that, he entered you, your cunt welcoming him in with little resistance. As usual, he didn't care whether or not your family came into the room and moaned loudly at the feel of your walls wrapped around him, while you tried to keep your hardest to keep your voice down. Even though it had only been a few days, since last time he was in you, it felt like it had been ages since he last felt the sweet warmth of your inner walls squeezing his cock. Louis would never get it, he told himself, sinking himself deeper into you, until he finally bottomed out.

"Mon amour," He moaned, closing his eyes, enjoying the way you clenched around him at the endearment, more wetness flooding around him. You both knew he didn't mean it and that his actual 'amour' was between your legs.

As usual he waited a second, making sure you were comfortable before he slowly pulled out, then thrust back in, forcing a loud moan to escape your mouth.

You both knew this was wrong and you knew it shouldn't go on any longer (shouldn't have even begun in the first place), but there was something that kept pulling yourselves to one another. Louis and Claudia thought that Antoinette was his only mistress, but he also had you. He didn't consider you a mistress though, more like a secret love of his that unlike Antoinette, he would never get tired of.

To you, Lestat was the toxic evil thing that your family had warned you to stay away from. The type of company that they feared would corrupt you, and they had been right. They had arranged many suitors for you, ready to marry you off, but each one, you turned down. They didn't know that at night, the real suitor, the one who eagerly came through your bedroom window to talk and regularly rearrange your guts, was the reason for your refusals. You tried to explain to him that at some point you will have to accept an offer, but Lestat had told you that if you did, you would still belong to him, and you would not be allowed to have sex with whoever you chose.

I'm not fond of sharing, he had told you.

Even as he fucks you into the bed, his cock plunging deep within you over and over, you could see a certain type of fondness mixed with possessiveness in his eyes. He even fucked you like he was staking some claim on you. With every gasp and squeak he fucked out of you, his cock grazed that same spongy spot inside you, making the already burning fire inside you get hotter and hotter.

"Tu m'appartiens. Et seulement à moi." He repeated that same phrase with every thrust the closer he got. You've asked him before what it meant, but he told you that it wasn't important.

"Oh God, Lestat," You whimpered, spreading your legs wider and raising them higher till they sat on his shoulders so he could fuck you harder, which he quickly did. You didn't have to look down to know that you were beginning to make more of a mess on the sheets, even with your human ears, you could hear it clearly. Looking up at him, you saw one side of his mouth curl up in a type of snarl and you knew that he could hear it too, probably even smell it.

"Let go for me, ange," he demanded of you, lowering his head to place a kiss between your eyes, the action being a deep contrast with how roughly he was fucking you. "Let go for me."

Closing your eyes, you felt his cock hit your spot one more time, triggering a wave of euphoria going through your body so strong that you couldn't help the loud cry that you let out. So loud was your cry that even Lestat had to place his hand over yours help to muffle you. You knew that he didn't care about being too loud, but he only did it for your sake.

"Good, ange, good," he told you, still continuing to fuck you through your orgasm, his eyes almost closing at the wonderful fluttering of your walls around his cock, your juices flooding him.

It was something about you, he thought, speeding up his thrusts, your wetness and tightness finally bringing him to his orgasm. Something about you was so incredibly addictive that he couldn't let go of it, of you. At least not until he made you cum at least three more times and he came inside you a couple of more times as well.

#interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire 2022 #iwtv 2022 #lestat de lioncourt #lestat #lestat de lioncourt imagine #lestat imagine #lestat de lioncourt smut #lestat smut #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat de lioncourt x black!reader #lestat de lioncourt x woc!reader #lestat de lioncourt x poc!reader #lestat x reader #lestat x black!reader #lestat x woc!reader #lestat x poc!reader

[akashababy]

Bloodbound Love (Lestat x male reader x Queen Akasha

Male reader name is Alex

A forbidden love story between two immortal entities and a mortal man took place in the shadowy depths of the ancient city of New Orleans, where the moonlight danced across cobblestone streets and the shadows whispered secrets.

The captivating and mysterious vampire Lestat de Lioncourt has always had a fascination with the extraordinary. He encountered the dangerous Queen Akasha, an ancient vampire queen with a craving for power and a beauty that could captivate any soul, as a result of his unquenchable curiosity for knowledge and adventure.

The combination of passion, desire, and risk in their relationship was enticing. By coincidence, the mortal man, Alex, came into their secret realm. He was drawn to the supernatural's attraction and to Lestat and Akasha's magnetic presence for unknown reasons.

Unfortunately, Alex's curiosity put him in the path of a group of evil people who wanted to take advantage of the supernatural entities for their own gain. To them, Alex was only a human pawn, someone to be exploited to control the strong vampires.

Alex was caught in the crossfire as the villains' schemes came to fruition, and his life was in jeopardy. Lestat and Akasha's affection for him exceeded their eternal existence at this dangerous time. They would not permit their lover to suffer harm.

Lestat and Akasha engage in fierce combat with their combined power and magical talents in an attempt to free Alex from his kidnappers' grasp. The vampires unleashed their wrath on anyone who dared to attack their beloved human, and the conflict raged on, a deadly dance of blood and power.

In a final display of ferocity, Lestat and Akasha triumphed, defeating their adversaries. But there was a price for the victory. With every second that went by, Alex's life force diminished as he lay shattered and bruised.

Lestat and Akasha looked at their injured beloved, and a deep decision weighed in the air. They were aware that transforming him into a vampire would change him irrevocably and link him to their world of eternal life. They loved Alex too much to follow reason or tradition, even though their decision went against the grain of natural order.

Alex was given Lestat and Akasha's blood in a desperate attempt to give him their everlasting essence. With the life-giving nectar coursing through his veins, Alex's wounds closed, and his mortal body became something much more remarkable.

Alex awoke to a world that had been irrevocably altered, filled with a thirst for the crimson elixir and a renewed sense of might. He was now a vampire, a creature of the night, caught in an unending cycle of desire and love with Akasha and Lestat.

They set off on an enduring adventure together, delving into the depths of their common interests and accepting the complexity of their everlasting lives. Alex discovered a love in their arms that transcended the gloom that shrouded them and broke beyond the barriers of time and mortality.

Every night that went by while they strolled through New Orleans' streets strengthened their relationship. The three of them rose to prominence as an unmatched powerhouse, a beacon of forbidden love. Alex, Akasha, and Lestat were entwined in a story of bloodlust that would last forever.

#queen of the damned x reader #male reader #queen akasha x reader #queen akasha #Queen Akasha x male reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt x reader #queen of the damned #Queen of the damned aesthetic #male reader fluff #fluff #lestat x male reader #lgbtq #ploy

[slasher-male-wife]

Tis the season: Lestat De Lion Court and Louis De Pointe Du Lac X reader

This is a silly little thing I wrote for the holidays. Sorry for barely posting, I got a new job and I've been busy.

Warnings: None I can think of

“You seriously bought a Christmas tree this year?” Lestat asks Louis, his arms folded over his chest. You’re in the other room, working on gathering out the decorations for the tree while the two of them bicker over this.

“It’s not like we don’t have the money to do this for them. I know you think it’s a waste of space and just, stupid in general but you have to understand that they’re still human and humans like to celebrate things. They don’t live as long as we do, so let’s let them enjoy this.” Louis retorts to him, shaking his head slightly. Lestat rolls his eyes and huffs a breath through his nose. 

“If we had already turned them then this wouldn’t be an issue. I don’t see why you care so much about them staying human for as long as possible. We could preserve their youth, Louis. They can have the choice I never had.” Lestat exclaims, hearing your footsteps sounding from the other room. 

You walk back in, holding a box of ornaments and beaming proudly. Louis smiles at you but Lestat doesn’t even try to hide his annoyance at Louis. 

“Some of these were from my family. I can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with the two of you this year.” You say, setting down the box on a table and taking out a few ornaments. Louis nods and gives Lestat a quick glare before he walks over and takes out a few ornaments too. 

“I’m very happy to celebrate with you this year too Y/N. I can’t wait to see what this season has to offer us.” Louis says, hanging a few ornaments on the tree. Lestat just stands and watches the two of you decorate the tree. 

“I don’t exactly see a point in celebrating this year, after you turn-” 

“If they turn.” Louis corrects. 

“Time won’t matter much and celebrating things will be less of an important ordeal to you. If you ask me, this whole thing is just excessive.” Lestat says with a wave of his hand. 

“Since when have you had an issue with things being excessive?” You ask, looking over at him as you gather more ornaments to put on the tree. Louis chuckles and Lestat suppresses a smile. 

“Well humans do have a limited time here on earth and it’s important to us to celebrate things while we can. It’s fun to decorate for seasons and maybe be a little ‘excessive’ with our celebrating. You too were human once Lestat. You should understand what it’s like to want to celebrate the small things in the world.” 

“Always so dramatic.” Lestat says dismissively as he walks over to the chase and takes a seat, watching you and Louis decorate the tree together.

“Do you remember when you used to celebrate Christmas?” You ask. Louis thinks for a moment as he hangs up more ornaments on the tree.

“Not exactly. I do remember a good amount of my life but I don’t exactly remember every detail about my Christmas as a human.” 

“Oh he’s so resistant to change I thought he’d die the first year he was a vampire,” Lestat says, stretching his arms across the couch in a flamboyant fashion, “You have to understand it took Louis decades before he would even drink fully from a human. He lived off rats and various animals, and I’m the dramatic one.” He says sarcastically. 

You chuckle and Louis gives Lestat a look. You don’t get too involved in their bickering, you much prefer to watch them bicker back and forth rather than actually engage with it. Despite their bickering back and forth, it still feels like a great Christmas season.

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #louis de pointe du lac x reader #interview with the vampire x reader

[mqverick]

red murder || . ｡˚ ✧

mature themes, 18+

blood mentioned, consider yourselves warned

“Shower me in blood, child

Shower me in lipstick.”

·:*────────── ✮ ───────── *:·

A biblical angel. The meaningless chatter of the riches was faintly evident in the atmosphere as you locked eyes with someone, who you didn’t know at all, who had such a striking stare into, not only your weak eyes, but also your entire body. He looked like a biblical figure, an angel perhaps, but there was something about the way he stood, shoulder lazily leaned against the velvet curtain, that pegged him not to be a creature of purity.

No, he was so distinguished and poignant, that it made you forget who you even were. Despite the fact that he was the one boring into your soul, you found yourself inexplicably dependent upon the gaze he’d cast on you, as if your heart would simply get squeezed stopped if he looked away.

Captivating could be another word to describe the façade of the luscious blonde haired stranger, eyes politely stiffed into the pockets of his expensive, elegant coat, decorated by golden buttons that shone under the dim light of the room. His eyes were either gray or hazy blue; either way they drew you in dangerously, causing you to get deeply lost in their shadowy gravitation. You wondered why he was, only for the sake of it, knowing well that the chances of getting to see him outside of the gathering were close to zero. Nevertheless, your insides turned painfully up and down as he kept the eye contact strong as ever, mind twisting at the thought of what he could possibly be thinking about.

Whoever he was, you hoped dearly that he’d have no ability to read minds, otherwise you were as good as gone. You were still young and inexperienced, but that never stopped your imagination. The corners of his lips turned into a slight smirk as he finally looked away, giving you the chance to regain control over yourself and remember how it felt to breathe. Who was he?

You opted to avoid approaching him, dreading the inevitable possibility of fainting upon his aristocratic stance. You walked into the mass of the crowd, fading into the pretentious laughters and snickers, heart beating fast into your chest as you placed your gloved hand over it on your chest, hoping it’d help it get back to its steady rhythm. You found escape in a dark hallway.

You felt dizzy just by the look of a wanderer in a charity ball. You took a deep breath, squeezed your eyes shut to regain your consciousness and let your pupils blur back to their senses. Your chest heaved painfully when you caught sight of his piercing icy eyes glowing into the obscurity of the room. You need to run, a tiny voice rang in your head, but the buzzing sounds of the blood pumping right into your ears was too loud to not cover the challenging warnings of your inner conscience. Your legs stayed frozen in place, blood running cold in your throbbing veins.

He finally approached you, slowly but with steady steps. The limited light blended with his skin, which you could still barely make out as his eyes moved up and down your body. He looked abnormal once again and you wanted to scream from the top of your lungs, but something inside you prevented you from making the smallest sound. You opted for playing it nonchalant.

“Have we met?” you asked firmly, eyebrows knitting together at the soft chuckle he let out.

“I believe not, at least not yet. I’ve noticed you. From across the room you captured my attention,” the curves of his mouth went up slightly as the smirk on his face grew larger and evidently smugger. “Don’t be nervous, my love.”

“Me nervous?” you asked, voice trembling now.

“Indeed you are, no? The way you’re standing here just like you stood back in the main room, all by yourself. Legs weak, the small shake of your knees… I can see it all.” His eyes wandered down your neck, growing particularly fond of the little vein there pump your warm, sweet blood. You followed his gaze, unable to see what he was so fixated on, catching back his attention as you pulled your sleeve higher up the shoulder in a kind of discomfort that you couldn’t really explain.

“What are you?” you found yourself questioning.

Not who, but what. The name and origin of the man did not concern you as much as how he possibly managed to look so pale, yet stand alive in front of you very eyes, with such a pompous demeanor. He chuckled, still intensely gazing at the side of your neck, down to your collarbone, then back at your lips. Shivers ran down your spine, but you kept your calmness, at least on the outside. You slightly tilted your head and waited for an answer, but instead, he gave you a smile.

One that you could not read for the sake of it.

Was he enjoying holding you in the emotional state of mind that you were in that moment, while he stood barely five steps away from you? you pondered quietly in your head, but it was almost as the man in front of you could read every single thought behind that head of yours. Your heart drummed against your chest, you backed away with every small step he took closer to you.

“Don’t be frightened, my love. I mean no harm.”

The tone of his voice and newfound appearance, that you’d truly never seen in any other person before, pegged you to think otherwise. “Quit calling me that,” you gritted through your teeth.

“Fine. Maybe I do mean you a little harm.” He burst out in chuckles the second he noticed your eyes slightly widen at his statement. You were at loss of words — what was so amusing to him?

“What is it that you need from me?” you tried again, but there was nothing you could possibly elicit from him that wasn’t a snarky snicker or stomach aching smirk. Your eyes fogged with fear and an inexplicable desire for knowing him better as you watched him grin the same time your pulse quickened significantly. You took another cautionary step back. He took one forward.

“I want to give you the choice…” he said carefully upon the cell of your ear, long fingers coming up to slightly graze against the skin of your jawline. He lets the sharp edge of his metallic ring barely, just barely, follow the curve of your cheek, causing a thin, white line to form as he pressed with enough force to just see a scar forming, but not letting any blood come out of it. You couldn’t help but feel the sensation of pure bliss to the way he touched your face, even though the voice that urged you to save yourself and run was getting louder and louder by every passing second. “…That I never had. You could come with me, spend the rest of your life by my side, be the companion that I’ve longed for for years.”

Your heart was racing. You were astonished by the choice — half of a choice, you’d call it, since he hadn’t given you the second part of it yet — he’d proposed. You could feel every vein, either thick or thin, pump wildly the blood through it, until it reached up in your brain, blinding it completely from any logic you’d ever owned. “And why shall I be the companion of a man I’ve barely spoken five words to?” you replied sarcastically.

“Because I could take all the pain away. Give you a life like mine… where pain, suffering and death don’t exist. I could make you stronger, faster, smarter, give you all that the world has to offer, that you mortals never seem to seize… or even understand. You could be forever youthful. Just give yourself to me.” Your breath got suddenly stuck in your throat, a look of shock temporarily wrapping around your reddening eyes as you kept them open, momentarily forgetting how to blink.

“And what would happen if I don’t wish for that?”

He looked up, as if mockingly enough for your poor naivety, then swiftly grabbed you by the throat, your voice disappearing instantly. His fingers gripped around the sides and you felt his ring hurting into the skin, but it felt as though he’d cast some sort of spell that could not enable the sense to escape or even speak. “I could take your life away and no one would even come to find you,” he whispered gently in your ear.

Once he removed his hand from around your neck, you could finally start breathing again as the dizzying blur slowly faded away. He looked at you with anticipation, waiting for your reply.

“And how shall you ever do that? I could scream right now and have you be the one lying dead.”

“So blissfully unaware…” he mumbled softly, and like a ray of light, you heard him hiss as something sharp — the hard surface of… teeth… more specifically fangs? — threateningly bordered on the lower side of your exposed neck, which he held with his hand, tilting your head towards the wall that was across from you.

The epiphany hit you so suddenly and quickly that you had to refrain yourself from yelping, now finally out of the state of oblivion you danced around into. A vampire. A vampire, you figured, kept muttering in your hallowing brain in order to genuinely get yourself to pull out of the fanzines of what could’ve been a dreadful nightmare, when it was reality, hard, cold reality splashing into you like a bucket of freezing ice water.

“I’d rather you finish me than make me that loathsome creature of your own,” you struggled to breathe out, nevertheless the voice came out firm and dominant, to which Lestat turned a blind eye to as he moved up closer, invading your personal space and almost having you pinned against the rocky surface of the wall behind you.

“Your wish shall be my command, my child.”

The last thing that you remembered before a soul consuming cloud of darkness covered the bright ability of vision you owned was the faded blur of the vampire kneeling down, as you slowly began to lose sense and control over your own legs and brain. Lestat, as you’d found out his name was, had been sitting by your side on the maroon silky sheets of his own bed, carefully running his long, skinny fingers through your neat locks. The way the lamp on his nightstand shone made your hair look like they were going to catch on fire. The vampire hummed in pleasure as he let his eyes flutter shut for just one second, during which he only came in contact with the feel of your velvety hair that so smoothly rolled around his steady digits. A first blink, then another. You were in a room that you didn’t recognize, nor felt comfortable in. Your pupils were dilated as you awoke from the slumber, sclera pinkish to red instead of white, as if you’d been crying.

Nothing about the setting felt familiar. Your sighting soon got restored and the heart was caught inside your throat when you laid your eyes upon his face, golden hair falling on top of his shoulders, face pale — almost white — but still beautiful; like he was filled with life, as ironic as that may be. Suddenly, you were hit with all the memories that ruggedly formed into your brain before you’d fallen unconscious on him at that ball. You pulled back, your head just an inch from hitting the wall behind as he laughed amusedly.

“Wake up… I’ve waited for so long to hear you speak once more…” he spoke in a gentle whisper that almost felt like a lingering caress on your cheek, his eyes glittering in the dim light. “Wake up, my love.”

Your limbs were somewhat trembling, power of defense against him unknown, as you fought back the urge to scream from the top of your lungs, unable to prevent his next move. There was something about the way he’d sat next to you, all so calm and unbothered, you almost wished you knew what was going on in his mind behind those light blue — almost gray — eyes. It had caused a newfound sense of anxiousness for the unexpected to pit deeply into the curves of your stomach, retinas glossy and puffy as he moved his hand on top of yours. You retrieved it immediately, but the action didn’t seem to dishearten him enough to cut the physical contact with you. Instead, it encouraged him to stomp even further into your space, cold index finger lightly, almost caring, grazing the outline of your chin’s shuddering skin.

It felt rewarding for Lestat; having you in such a state of mind, helpless, completely at his mercy. Your fate depended solely upon him and him only, even if that meant you’d have to beg him to spare you. He had no hostile intentions towards you, though, just simply enjoyed the way the terror entered your body, as you fought against it.

“Don’t be afraid,” he cooed, but you snorted.

“You spoke the same words earlier and here I am, in the house of a stranger, vainly trying to gather back my senses.” The tone of your voice was still on the same line that you’d left it during the first conversation with him at the ball. If Lestat was blind, he would’ve foolishly believed you weren’t frightened by him at all, which excited him.

How was it possible that such a beautiful creature, human amongst humans, had managed to evade his attention all that time? The tip of his thumb padded the side of your jawline softly, rubbing small circles there. “You’re troubled, my dear. I must refrain from my nature if I want to have you by my side, thus you shall not be scared about my actions towards you.”

“And why such kindness, if I may ask?”

Lestat’s eyes lingered on each feature of your face as he drank in the image of you, the woman who had captivated him, as much to the character as to the looks. The hair delicately falling on your shoulders, stopping just before the curve of your breasts, which was deep enough for him to study, every detail of each curve. The fear that consumed you in that very moment, as he sat so close to you, made something in him stir, a hunger that could not and would not be denied.

“Your human nature… it fascinates me.” His grin broadened, his voice thick with desire. He slowly reached out, brushing away the hair on your soft cheek. “The way you perceive things so fiercely, even though death threatens you at every second. Mortality is a curse, my love. I would save you from it. But I have no need for your blood.”

“Oh, Lestat, but you’re a fool, I’m afraid,” you spoke with a satisfied smirk upon your lips. He tilted his head in confusion, still seemingly intrigued nevertheless. “Immortality makes a man miserable. You forget to love and live. And what is the purpose that you’ve brought me here for? Be your eternal companion? I’ll never be yours. Let the years make me your slave for as much time shall pass, but the end of my life will come and find me one day, and I’ll be free again.”

Lestat’s brows furrowed in frustration as he took your words in. “You’re such an ungrateful woman,” he gritted through his teeth, the previous sweetness of his voice now completely gone. There was a small fire burning in his eyes, but that didn’t frighten you either, seeing as you preferred him to kill you in rage rather than sugar talk you with fake desires. Your heart pounded.

“If you don’t let me go on your own terms, I’m going to scream. Kill me for it, if you must, I won’t bring any resistance. I’m giving you a choice.”

The irony of your own choice of words made Lestat’s blood boil. You, a no one human being, had the audacity to twist his words into a joke?

“Scream all you like, my dear. It would serve you no purpose.” And as soon as the sentence left his mouth, you screamed from the top of your lungs for help, eyes watering in anticipation. Lestat got up from the bed, leaned against the wall as he crossed his hands across his chest, waiting.

He watched you with his typical air of amusement as you screamed in terror. Finally, a maid entered the chamber, concern and stress written all over her tired face from the yell that had echoed all the way downstairs. Her poor French accent soon died down her lips as she asked “Ce qui s’est passé?” while looking around for any suspicious actions. Lestat took her by the throat, sinking his fangs deeply into the collarbone as he used the sharp ring on his thumb to cut a small line there open, killing her faster. The blood began to pour down the entire floor, thick, dark and warm. He looked refreshed as he pulled away, throwing her limb body onto the ground as you watched in utter fear and disgust. Not the tiniest hint of a sound was able to come out of you as you covered your mouth in shock, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your entire body felt electrified.

Lestat smiled, savoring your qualm. He came back closer to where you were sat, shaking his head in disapproval. “Look what you’ve caused now… Are you happy with yourself?” You turned to glare at him, flames shooting through your red eyes as he kept trying to hold a laugh back.

“You’re foul! That woman was not involved!”

Suddenly, his face hardened. “I told you no one would come to help you,” he spoke, standing over you, the blood of the maid dripping down his cheek, painting his clothed chest like an empty canvas. “You have no choice but to turn to me, for I am the only chance you have at survival.”

“I loathe you,” you gritted through your teeth.

Lestat couldn’t help but smile at your disdain. He approached you slowly, his eyes moving up your body and then to your neck. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he spoke once more, his voice a whisper. “Good. Use that hatred. Hate me as much as you desire. It won’t stop you from coming to me, it’ll only make the urge stronger.”

You sighed, falling back into the bed as your hands clasped tightly over your eyes, hair messy and unruly as part of you accepted that his words weren’t just a figment of imagination. Somehow, you’d found yourself deeply lost into his midwinter eyes, ebbed ever so gently with cement, accentuated every feature of his sharp characteristics, glistening like stars melted in platinum. You wanted more, just like the way he’d predicted; more of those eyes, of his life, of who and how he turned into a vampire, if he missed his mortality at all, whether or not he enjoyed poetry as much as you did…

Ravishing was a way to put it. Lestat had wrapped you helplessly around his angelic — or was it even demonic? — charm, pulling you in further and further just like core electrons are tightly bound to the nucleus. You wished to escape from the invisible grasp, but you couldn’t.

“Do you miss your mortality, Lestat?” you asked out of nowhere and he looked a bit taken aback by your choice of question. Nevertheless, he came and sat back by your side on the bed, allowing himself to admire the way the silky fabric of your dress had fallen just a tad down your smooth shoulders.

“At times I do…” he spoke without hesitating, his voice a gentle, almost scared, murmur as his eyes fell to the ground. “There are times when I yearn for the sensation of being human once more. I miss the sense of wonder and discovery that comes with being mortal, and the feeling of truly experiencing life for the first time...” He looked back up at you in front of him a faint smile curling on his lips. “You remind me of that feeling, my love. That is why I chose you.”

You sighed in defeat and despair. There was no possible way out of this, you reckoned, just needed to find the will and strength to make amends with what the future held for you.

───

The following night, you allowed him to dress you up in the prettiest dress you’d ever laid upon your body. The burgundy colour and the rich, but delicate fabric fell down your curves so harmoniously that Lestat looked mesmerized by the way it draped over you. He’d complimented your figure as lovely and even though the certain choice of words had given your mind a little dizzy spin, you’d shown zero reaction to him. Instead, you followed him, arm strictly wrapped around his own as you strolled down the dark paths, before he opened the door to a ravishing ball for you. The memories came crashing down like a violent wave of déjà vu, that you so desperately wanted to wash off your mind.

Ironically enough, with your arms entangled, you felt some inexplicable sort of safety. You didn’t recognize any of the people there, but Lestat had promised you a fancy night out, just for the sake of it — and who were you to say no? He narrated the background of the marquess, who was sat royally in the middle of the main hall, two young male servants on each side of where her chair was placed, laughing politely along with her.

“See her? That’s the widow St. Clair. She had that young fop murder her husband,” he whispered lowly into your ear, causing the small hairs on the back of your neck to tingle. You gave him a strange and unconvinced look.

“How dare you speak such words of felony?”

“I can read her thoughts,” Lestat’s voice rang clear, that same soft murmur filling his throat. He looked at you with a playful grin; he enjoyed watching your expressions as you came into realization of the extent of his abilities. He also noticed your sudden freeze, and the corners of his lips broadened. “The thoughts run deep inside a mortal’s mind. They’re so easy to read, and so tempting to listen to,” he whispered. His voice was soft, sensual as he came even closer to you...

“And… and you’ve invaded my thoughts already, I shall presume?” You didn’t need an answer to your own question, already confidently aware of what his reply would be. “What am I thinking of?”

His tone was gentle as his own thoughts wandered inside of your mind, listening to the sounds of your consciousness and the things you thought of. “You’re wondering why I’m even bringing you to such a social gathering. You’re contemplating a way to get out of it... but you’re also secretly curious as to what kind of people will be attending such an event,” he leaned into your ear, his breath coming out warm against your skin. “You’re scared, my love. I can hear your heart accelerating in your chest. The faint sounds of your mind wandering into unknown territory.”

Your cheeks grew red and the saliva barely made it past your throat as it slithered down the length of it in a painful manner. He’d read you like an open book and you didn’t even have to speak a word out loud for him to come to said assumption. It indeed terrified you; how he’d been able to invade the privacy of your own mind, how you weren’t and would never be able to stop him from doing such thing, simply because the desire to stay in peace was beyond your power.

Lestat let a small smirk cross over his face as you blushed. He had found it was rather humorous how he could always seem to have this effect on you. “Don’t be shocked. It’s a trick I’ve learned over my years as a vampire. It’s… become something I hold no control over; if I focus on one person too long, I can hear the innermost secrets of their mind, their desires… their sins.”

“Their desires, you say…?”

You couldn’t help the question when it flew out of your mouth, just like a young child yearning for knowledge of its world. Lestat smirked.

“Yes. Even their most intimate desires... it’s quite intriguing to see the depths of the mortal realm.”

“I want to know about your desires, in that case.”

“Is that so?” his low voice was inviting, close to seductive, you beckoned. His eyes momentarily took a glance at your long legs and the way the dress fell over them, before you spoke again.

“It’s only fair since you know my own ones, already. And don’t even dare deny such thing, I know for a fact that you’ve done it.”

“How perceptive of you, my beloved,” Lestat’s voice was still a soft whisper, tracing the outline of the call of your ear, and he stepped even closer to your side. His breath hitched slightly as he took in the scent of your skin, your femininity. His eyes traced down to your lips again, and his own desires came to life. “At this moment, my desires are simple... they include the two of us alone… together... no one else.”

“No one else…” you repeated with a fragile tone.

The vampire’s voice lowered as his eyes wandered down your body once more, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with your short breaths. “I imagine the two of us without the noise of the crowded ballroom. The way that no one else is there to hinder us… our bodies would merge together, with no one around to intrude as, you and I… free to do as we please.” His mind wandered to the possibility of you alone in his room, of what you could do.

“Oh?” you encouraged him to go on, as if less than twenty four hours ago, you hadn’t uttered out that you loathed him. “You’re always so poetic when you want to end up in bed with someone, Lestat? Speak more to me with what we’d do. In this volume of voice… these words…”

You were undoubtedly washed with a sense of newfound arousal for the vampire and it didn’t escape his attention. His voice had grown raspy with the words that poured from him, a certain type of hunger coming over him as you listened.

“I can’t help but wonder about your sudden change of heart,” he chuckled with a smirk.

“I’m weak at this very moment and I’m letting you take advantage of it. We’ll go back to your manor and we’ll have all the privacy we need… we can spend the night alone, together, as you said.”

His eyes were locked on yours as his mind continued to drift away into those lustful desires. He craved you, wanted you in a way that not even his vampire nature could fully comprehend. Your hands curled around the lapels of his silky shirt and you then run your fingers all the way down his body until they clasped around his own hands.

You couldn’t tell how the time passed, finding yourself from one moment to another; from a fancy, loud ballroom, to a oaken, hand carved door that led into a lavish French-furnished bedroom, which you had —oh, so well — gotten used to. There were heavy shades on the window, an almost magical mosquito netting falling across the sides from the bed, like golden tears. You looked around for a moment, trying to help the blur of your thoughts to comprehend that this was beyond a dream reality, that it was life.

Life, as ironic as it might seem.

Lestat walked behind you as he shut the door, step light and slow. He took his time with tracing the outline of your shoulder blades that the dress allowed you to reveal, his index finger gracefully teasing the skin with only the physical contact of the digit and the bit of the nail that stuck out. His breath hitched when his hand travelled lower on your back, right hand coming up to twirl the tip of the zipper playfully, silently asking you for permission for his next move. He’d ordered all the staff to leave, so that when you’d entered through the mansion’s doors, he’d locked it behind them.

He could see you hesitate, not that he cared much about it. It was certain to Lestat that once the silence fell in, you’d come to be too focused on your intimacy with him to think back on your own emotional barriers. His assumptions proved true, once he quickly unzipped your dress and you looked back at him from over your shoulder with parted lips, not complaining, not asking him to stop. His eyes were almost sparkling as the candle light flickered on your pale face.

“Lestat…” you hummed, mostly as a plead.

But he didn’t say anything back, just picked you up in his arms, laid you upon the velvet sheets of his bed and getting on top, his gaze captivating and unnerving, head tilting to the side so that he could plant a trail of wet, sensual kisses all the way down to your neck, his tongue resting against the veins that popped out as you stretched your head backward for better access.

Lestat’s body was pressed flushed against yours, his now wrinkled shirt fallen down midway through his shoulders, revealing his bare chest as his mouth travelled further down, his left hand gripping around your neck. He moaned softly as he tasted the sweet scent of your skin, the feeling of your pulse rising against his own body.

“Please,” his voice was an alluring murmur as he spoke, his thumb stroking your collarbone. He could feel the desire growing within him to posses you, take you as his own. “Let me have you.”

───

You reckoned it was still nighttime when your heavy eyelids began fluttering open. You recognised the sound of a soft snore next to your ear, a pair of still wet and plump lips caressing and tickling the spot right below your earlobe. You slightly rose from the bed, careful as to not disturb Lestat and rubbed your eyes, but you instantly regretted the action, seeing as the chilly weather trapped inside the huge room caused your underdressed body to shiver. You brought the covers close to your chin and appreciated Lestat’s features. His body next to you didn’t offer much warmth, but the just feeling of having him there in such state had your cheeks matching a crimson shade of red. You hummed in pleasure.

You didn’t mean to wake him, nor made any sound to achieve such thing, but somehow, he’d half-opened his stunning eyes. You were still afraid of him, even if it was somewhat there. He smiled unintentionally when he acknowledged your presence, but didn’t say a word.

“This… it doesn’t have to mean anything,” you were quick to speak in a shaky voice. He only offered you a chuckle in response, bringing a hand out to brush the hair that fell into your face back behind your cheek, hugging you closer to his body. You wanted to attempt to feel his heartbeat, but somehow, your own was loud enough to cover any other possibly existing sound.

Lestat pulled the blanket over the two of you and rested the side of his face on top of your head as he laid a gentle kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes again and he leaned closer, his lips hovering just above yours with his breath being warm and inviting, as if beckoning you to merge with his own body. “Dream of me, my darling.”

───

You poured the second steep and drank out of the fine china cup, noticing the fragrance of the tea. Sweet Vietnamese cinnamon with a hint of floral honeysuckle that began to wrap around your head like the ‘I rivali di se stessi’. You’d really outdone yourself with the tea, finding the variety of herbs and scents in Lestat’s kitchen a joyful surprise to kill time with. You’d woken to the sound of what was almost identical to the pitter patter of sensuous rain on the windowsill. You saw him sitting at the huge, shining black instrument that looked like the sky on a cool summer night, coaxing impossibly soothing and amazing melodies from it. Lestat seemed lost as his fingers flew over the keys like swallows darting in a pond for fish. You sat on the couch across from him and sipped your tea with tired eyes.

“Why’d you stop?” you questioned once the sound was gone and his fingers were just resting on top of his knees. His breath was lost, too.

“You want me to keep playing?” His voice was hoarse and rasped, and he seemed to have lost some of the energy he had when you’d first met him. You pondered the reason, but not out loud.

“Sure.” He began to play again, the same slow, sad melody. You couldn’t help but wonder if it reflected the way he’d been feeling inside. As his fingers strolled through the keys, he looked at you from time to time, almost as if he wanted to say something, but his words always failed him before. “…When did you learn to play?”

“Hm?” He looked away from the piano briefly, his hand not stopping from playing. He didn’t seem to expect the question however, and so he felt a bit taken back. He began to speak slowly, as if he had to think about his answer a little. “My mother taught me how to play. She was a musician and she was very talented. She was a pianist...” He paused to think again. He didn’t want you to know much about his past, especially his human years, but he didn’t want you to think that he was just trying to change the subject either.

“Oh?”

“Yes…” Lestat replied softly, his tone remained steady. “She taught me how to play music, but also helped me understand it. It’s a form of… expressing, even if you can’t physically say it, you play it. Play with your heart, your emotions.”

His hand continued under the same melody, although his voice felt a bit more nostalgic. Still, you watched intently, your eyes following his every movement slightly from over the cup you held against your lips. You’d taken a fancy to the way he spoke sometimes, to his life and past.

“Did you have any family? I mean, besides your mom…” You knew the question was wrong and uncalled for, but it felt as though a burden leapt out from your body as it left your curious mouth. Lestat removed his hands from the instrument and got up. The heart trapped against your ribs was hammering, unable to know what feelings and memories of his you’d just triggered.

“Family?”

“Yeah,” you assured him. He didn’t seem any kin to reply to your question, however. “I’ve run away from mine. Mother held a knife to my throat every time settling down was mentioned amongst the family dinners. Said I’m old enough to convert to a church and become a nun. I don’t particularly care for marriage or any other form of settling down for that matter. I’ve got a free spirit that won’t rest until I travel in every inch of the world.”

You noticed him smile a little, weakly. But you could see him hesitating, hold back, suddenly all stiff. You asked him again about his family, but the only thing you managed to get out of him was a defeated murmur about the story having faded along the line, that it didn’t matter anymore.

“My story is much similar to yours… but it’s a long one, and it’s mostly full of unpleasant memories,” he said softly. Lestat could see in your gaze an unspoken desire to know more of his past, but he couldn’t allow you to witness the ugly side of him just yet. You urged to push him to reveal more, nevertheless, genuinely interested and curious.

“You ran away too?”

“It’s none of your concern to know that.”

His tone raised, frustrated now. You’d hit a nerve, it was certain, but would you risk to upscale his mood, whose limitations you hadn’t explored yet? You simply stared at him as he walked towards the heavy, red and golden curtains, turning his back at you. It wasn’t hard to realise that he couldn’t bare look at you, that if he did, you might’ve taken advantage of reading the raw emotions across his features, a curse that followed him through his early teenage years, up until for all eternity — as the future held to him.

“Whose concern is it then? I don’t see anyone else trapped in this prison of a manor!”

“Prison... prison?!” Lestat heard the comment, and it caused him to feel anger stir inside of him. You didn’t know what a prison felt like, this estate and this mansion was... “This estate is not a prison,” he said harshly, before yanking you by the arm and dragging you across the room in swift movements, all the way down to the basement.

The door that opened to the cold and damp room was torn down, old enough that the woody material on it had lost its brownish colour. Instead, it was a light beige, spider webs all over the rusty metal mechanisms that held it together. He pushed you inside, throwing you with force that caused you to miss your step and fall flat painfully against the dusty ground. He slammed the door behind you as he got in, teeth gritted.

“What the devil is going on inside your sick mind?!” you screamed, getting up back on your legs as you dusted your dress off. Your eyes matched his, sharp, snapping as they glowered.

“You want to live in a prison, yes? Have my blessing in that case,” he responded. You’d insulted him, the place he owned and grew himself up in. He held the door handle shut as he leaned against the door with his back facing it, patiently awaiting for your pleads to let you go. You understood that he wasn’t planning on freeing you any time soon and the anger bubbled within your nerves, matches starting fires in your head and heart. You didn’t mean the words that came out of you in the unfortunate moment, or maybe you did, to some extent, but it still hurt.

“I understand now why the memories of your family must be so unpleasant. No one would want a child like you, so arrogant and selfish. I pity the poor people!” Each letter escaped from your lips with poisonous stabs in Lestat’s heart.

He was stunned as the words reached his ears, hadn’t expected you to resort yourself in such a low place. “Is that so?” He needed to stay mad, slap you, punish you — do something, but all he could bring himself to dwell on were his years as a child, a human. He stared at you, reminiscing every detail, getting to live in his mortal body and soul for one last time as you speechlessly stared back at him, not finding the courage to apologize for the cruel level you’d stooped to. He heard you mutter his name as he almost broke the door in attempt of pushing it open, disappearing into his bedroom and locking himself inside. Ironically, his coffin felt freezing that night.

Lestat had lost the sense of understanding the climate around him a few centuries ago.

───

The next day passed and you still felt shaken. Lestat, with his usual tenderness toward you, had disappeared. Hadn’t spoken one word to you, not even walked in the same direction as you. It was weird how he’d managed such thing, seeing as you both lived under the same roof. The bed of one of the many guest rooms you’d chosen to hid into had been a ghost before your legs. It felt uncomfortable, unwelcoming, unable to hold your presence on it. You spent the night before scribbling drawings on a yellow paper you’d found in one of the nightstand’s drawers, not knowing what else to do with yourself. Twenty four hours being alone in a house with at least more than one lonely person. You took a deep breath and decided you needed to find him, see how he was doing. You’d softened towards him, it seemed, in less time than you’d expected. Your brain was still terrified to accept the idea of it, but the aching inside of your heart didn’t give it any other option.

You walked outside of the room and searched for him everywhere. Yvette told you she’d last seen him go outside. Back upstairs, you heard the soft sound of water running into the main bathroom and curiously walked over, leaning against the door just for a peak. Your mouth dropped and you shrieked loudly in unexpected terror. The bathtub went by the shade of an almost black red, thick, even if it merged with the water. There were bubbles covering the top and Lestat smirking next to it as he took a step closer.

“I prepared a bath for you,” he announced with a smile. You lost your voice along with every other possible function of your system. Lestat looked for a moment, the blood in it did fill him with a certain hunger that he had not felt before. He could almost taste it; the thought of you coming into the tub was almost alluring, he had imagined how you would look in that water... and how you would taste inside that water... he was salivating.

“W—Wh…What did you do?” you asked, your voice trembling, horrified at the freak show.

“What do you think I did?” his words came out with a cold tone, as he stared at you. His face was a bit grim, yet still his eyes were detailed with a certain lust. “You’re going to ask why, I assume. Why did I kill them…? Or why did I bring their blood here?” his voice was full of sarcasm as he spoke, he was making you more confused and scared, but this time, he was not planning to back down to your puzzled feelings and expressions.

“Both… Both!” You felt your knees weaken as you crumbled to the door behind you, the smell of the blood causing vomit to erupt in your throat. He looked at you as you collapsed upon the doorframe, the sound of your gag causing him to smirk a little. You had successfully lost all sense of control, and that was beyond pleasing to him.

“I killed them because I needed fresh blood,” he said slowly, he would not tell you anything more. A step closer, then a hand pointing at the tub, which haunted your soul. “Get in the tub.”

“No. No… no — no — you can’t… you can’t…!” You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were teary and your face had paled and he looked happier than ever. Lestat didn’t want to hear your plead, he didn’t want to hear you beg for mercy. His desire was taking over him, and now that he had killed a few poor slaves in the woods and the bloodlust inside of him had grown in intensity.

“You don’t have a choice.” He then walked towards you, his movements slow and precise. He wished to take what he wanted from you, no matter what you’d do to convince him otherwise. You’d cut deep with your previous words, which never went unnoticed nor forgotten. “I want to shower you in blood, my child.”

His eyes had grown a bright crimson as he got close to you, pulling you into his grip. You thought you were about to pass out, your body limped down on the floor, unable to move or resist. Lestat could feel your weakness, your fragility as you leaned against the door. One more pull and he began to drag you away from the wooden entry. You got more and more ill as the smell got stronger, your mind buzzing as his devious laughter echoed in it. Your throat was closing up and the need for air was growing more immense with your every weak breath. “Why are… you doing this?” you mustered with a middle pause.

“Because of what you said.”

“B-Because of what I… Leave! Let me go!”

You were kicking the air, panicking, trying to run away from him in desperate attempts. He smiled, twirled around your helpless body and hummed the melody of an old Italian song. The tears fell from your eyes artistically, in a way that they almost resembled the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise, your hands clutching on every item possible for a steady grasp that would still his intentions, free you from them. As your ultimate option, you resulted in begging with choked sobs. The pleads caught him off guard.

He couldn’t tell if it was truly fear, or a ploy of some kind to get out of the situation. He was hesitant, yet still had a choice to make, and the limitations highlighted the accident of choosing poorly due to the temper of the moment. He could feel the moisture dripping from your eyes as you begged him not to do this to you, but the hunger for the fright your vocal chords held was still there, distracting him from judging correctly.

“You mocked me…” there was still a hint of anger in his voice, but not the overwhelming kind. In fact, he felt more collected than ever. You’d brought this situation upon yourself…

“This… Lestat, please, please, I want this to end, please…” you sobbed into the comfort of his neck, your arms wrapping around him as they trembled. Lestat could feel you shaking against him as you sobbed. The intensity that he had felt was now fading, a little empathy rising towards you for the first time since you’d insulted him. Your fear made you seem so much weaker, so much more vulnerable, and it made his heart hurt as he looked at you, unfamiliar with this side of you.

He couldn’t stay mad. And he had to let you go.

“You’re making it difficult for me to keep you safe. As much from others as from myself...” he said softly as he loosened his grip on you, his hand holding your arm now was a soft and gentle one. It was not the grip of a killer, it was the grip of a lover. Yet his eyes were a reminder, still burning.

“This… it’s a nightmare, right? None of this happened. The tub… it’s just a nightmare?” you asked him, deluding yourself into a lie that you believed would calm you down. You were still on the verge of passing out, your eyes heavy and swollen as they blinked the remaining tears away.

“Yes... it’s just a horrible nightmare,” he spoke softly as he kept holding onto you, he wanted to lie to you if that meant that you’d start feeling safe around him again, comfortable, that you’d forget all about the tub. He could tell you were still scared, even if you had relaxed a little. He would not allow you to be afraid, did not want you to remember any of this. He only wanted you to remember being safe in his arms.

“I’ll wake up to your bed tomorrow?”

“Indeed.”

“I need to go to your bed…” you murmured under your breath, your eyes half-lidded as he nodded and took you in his arms. Your head rested on top of his shoulder and you couldn’t really tell what was happening around you; what was real and what was not, but in your mind, it mattered no more than a useless piece of information. Lestat carried you all the way to his bedroom and helped you on the bed, as he removed a few layers of clothes of his own. You found the warmth of the scent this particular bed held somewhat comforting, that you weren’t alone anymore. He came up back by your side and stroked your hair as he kept whispering in French, a language that even though you spoke less than fluently, always seemed tricky to understand.

“Tu as un beau cou.” The poorly spoken words grazed just the outline of his vampire fangs as they left his mouth and embraced your throat. Lestat leaned down just a little to place a lingering kiss on the side of your neck, right were your pulse was beating — throbbing — in a way of letting you know that he’d provide you with eternal safety; even from his own self. He cherished the satisfied tiny moans you let out as his promises hugged your soul and sighed. Even with your presence around, his room still felt cold and for a moment he allowed himself to wonder if it’d feel the same way in case he were a human.

“Je sais, mon amour,” he heard you sheepishly reassure him, not understanding in the slightest how you’d managed to do such thing in all your tiredness and corpse-like state. He was the one with the ability to read the mortal mind, yet it seemed like you’d known every inch and depth of his darkest and deepest thoughts since the moment you laid eyes on him. And oh, how he wished you hadn’t. Because Lestat refused love.

He refused the idea of love, thought of it as something miserable and pessimistic, because how could anyone devote themselves so much to a person to forget their own problems and beliefs. Poems, philosophy, theatre, music; they all refused love in a way. The destructive kind.

But his head tilted to the side as he sat in his coffin, watching you descend to sleep, and suddenly he was gone from the world, helpless.

───

“I want to breathe fresh air. Your house is suffocating me,” you’d said to him only a few days later after finding the strength to look him back directly in the eyes like you weren’t afraid. He posed as a danger to you now, after the cruelty with the tub, but you were superior to any of his schemes. The walls suffocated you seeing as he barely let you walk around the town, afraid that he’d lose you, that you’d run away from him.

The sky that night was tranquil. The dark canvas of the it was adorned with countless points of light, like shimmering diamonds scattered across a velvet cloth. The celestial bodies twinkled and glimmered, casting a soft, ethereal glow that captivated the imagination. You always loved to watch the stars, to admire the constellations.

And that night, Lestat was in a good mood, so even though his reply had been hesitant at first, he’d eventually let you do as you wished. With his hand secured around yours, he’d promised to take you to his favourite place, his hiding spot as a newly discovered vampire, his memory founder. You strolled around the town, walked for what felt like several minutes. The setting was unfamiliar and the thought of getting lost crossed your anxious mind for a split second, but given to the concentration on his face, he seemed to know exactly the roads he strolled through. There was a small forest, one you’d never stumbled upon in all the years you spent in Louisiana, even though you were certain you’d walked past it at least once. The air was chilly and there were no others around in kilometers; just you and Lestat. It was the type of place that many nobles would avoid. It reminded you of the haunted forests your mother would read to you about in the night tales to put you to sleep.

“Here we are. Do you like it?” he asked as he let go of your hand, intertwining his fingers together as his hands fell over his crotch. He looked at you.

“Yeah, a lot actually. How come I’ve never known about this place before?”

“Well…” Lestat explained, “It’s an unnoticed spot. Not many appreciate its natural beauty,” he spoke softly, as he looked around the forest once again. “They’re afraid to come here at night, and they try not to pass by during day as well. I don’t know why, if that’s your next question.”

“And how did you discover it?”

“I used to come here often.” There was no use in hiding that answer. He had been a child who ran away, and during those years where he explored this vast estate, he had found this forest. He didn’t know it was haunted — according to the superstitions — back then, but even now when he was aware of it, he would come here often. He had not left for such a long time. It felt like home.

“By yourself?”

“Yes…” He knew the answer was pathetic, that it gave his longtime loneliness away, and he regretted admitting it out loud. “You know, we’re similar in more ways than just our past.”

Your eyebrow cocked in confusion. “And how is that, may I ask?” Lestat paused for a moment, as your question made him think. That part hadn’t always been so hard when it crossed his mind many nights during sleep. Perhaps it had been the fact that he didn’t have to look at you when he thought about his past, but... now he had to.

“We ran away from it. We both know what it’s like to be alone.”

“But we’re not alone anymore, isn’t that what you’re trying to say?” you listed his words before he could do it himself, your voice weary, tears burning in your eyes, even though you understood that he emotional pressure was more overwhelming for him than for you. He’d opened up to you, just a hint of it, you realised, but you couldn’t know why and it pained you.

“We’re not... I...” he grew unsure, unable to finish.

“I want to watch the stars.”

Lestat’s mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but remained in that position, looking at you silently, surprised. “We can watch the stars,” he agreed and took you to a more open spot in the forest. It was clearer and there were less trees that would potentially block the view of the sky. The both of you sat on the grass, legs crossed as your eyes focused on the moon.

“Do you have a favourite constellation?”

Lestat thought about it for a moment. there were many stars he had been drawn to over the years, and he had studied quite a lot of them as well. But perhaps, there was one that particularly stood out to him. “Scorpio,” he said softly as he tried to look to see where it was in the night sky. His gaze was focused towards the stars as you spoke again.

“Scorpio? How so?”

“It stung Orion to death. I do the same with humans in reality. Well, drain them to death…” he paused and laid back on the grass, letting his body become one with the somber pasture. His eyes still stood out, even as the pitch black sky made it really hard to find your own step around. “It’s also one of the first constellations I studied.”

You gave him a little smile and carefully positioned yourself next to him on the ground. “I didn’t know astrology intrigued you.” Indeed it felt odd to listen to him speak about his interests, however it created an invisible bond between you. For once, he looked at the stars with company. He wanted to take your hand, show you that this was something he’d never gotten with anyone else, cherish the moment. You felt him do so, eventually, and tried not to react as if to give yourself away. “Can you guess my favourite constellation? But you shan’t read my thoughts.”

“Mm…” he considered. “Cassiopeia.”

“You read my mind,” you simply stated.

“I guessed.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then don’t.” He turned to look at you and so did you. He was holding back from something, it was evident in the way his Adam’s apple bobbled, the way his eyes had a bizarre shine in them that they’d only get before he was about to ask you a question he knew unlocked more and more of him to you, which he both allowed and feared.

“Go ahead,” you encouraged, even though he hadn’t asked anything at all.

“Do you believe in fate at all?” Fate, as in, everything was meant to be in a way. He couldn’t help but think of the idea as you laid down together, in the presence of the dark blue sky.

“I think fate is misery. I don’t understand why it’s got to punish us for things we didn’t even ask for to happen. It kills us all in the mind. But I do believe in it, nonetheless. We’re all its slaves.”

“Why do you believe in it if it tortures you so much?”

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you ask yourself the same question? Sometimes we don’t have an answer, we just let things be the way they are.”

“I think that what you call misery shaped me.”

“So you’re miserable, then?”

Lestat frowned as the words came from your lips. “No,” he spoke, his tone seemed to grow a bit frustrated. “I most certainly am not miserable, but I just think…” he sighed harshly, he knew what he was trying to say — he just couldn’t explain it properly — and maybe the way you stared at him, waiting in so much anticipation made him lose his track of thoughts along with his own words.

“You want to go back inside?”

He nodded and got up, upset over the fact that the time had been cut off so shortly. He felt strangely warm, as if he’d recently fed enough to cause the blood run through his veins, and he wondered if you’d make him feel that way every time you gave him the slightest hint of attention.

The night was deep and his house hollow as you stepped into it, ready to take your separate ways in the rooms, but the boldness coursed through your neurons as you asked him if he’d like to have a sip of wine first. No, he replied, he wouldn’t wish for one, because wine no longer got him drunk or offered him any form of careless enjoyment. You just sat by yourself near his piano and grazed your fingers over the last four keys. A messy, silent melody came out and for a second, it echoed over the entire room, one, two, three times. You wondered if it symbolized how lonely Lestat was.

It felt gut wrenching, even though you knew he was unpleasant, seeing him have no one in his life. Seeing him know so much about the stars and have no soul to talk with about it. You went into your room and changed into a nightgown. The breeze from the windows made it feathery against your body as it flew a little under your arms when you entered Lestat’s bedroom without making the slightest noise. His coffin was covered; he’d fallen asleep perhaps. You seized the opportunity to give his room a sharper notice.

There was a neat black vase with golden details placed on the dresser, it even had a rose in it. A rose that had lost its bloom; it was just wrinkled, a little yellow—growing to brownish—near the edges, all dried up, dusty and ready to crumble. A soft touch on the back of your neck caused you to gasp as you turned around only to realise it was Lestat, seemingly paler than usual, for a reason.

“Did I disturb your peace of going through my stuff?” he asked, but his voice didn’t sound mad.

“I don’t want to sleep just yet.”

His eyes followed yours until they fell to the rose you were examining. With a swift twirl, he brought it around his fingers and held it in front of your face. “Pour toi, ma chérie,” he whispered with a smirk as you took it and placed it over your chest, right where your heart was still steadily beating.

“Pourquoi le gardes-tu encore? C’est pourri.”

A disheartening sigh followed by a slight shrug of his exposed shoulders. “It symbolizes a lot.”

“Like what?” you persisted. Lestat took the rose from you and rubbed it between his palms as it turned from a dead flower to dried up powder, piled up in a tiny hill on the rug. You couldn’t understand his sudden burst, the frustration within him, but you were very aware of the fact that even the slightly wronged word could snap him. He didn’t reply to the question, either, just paced forward until he reached the bed. You felt the rest of the world move in front of your very eyes in a sped up warp, you laid right below his body, unable to move in resistance. How he got you in that position was beyond your brain to comprehend and for a split second, you wished to scream, but then remembered.

Lestat lowered his semi-opened mouth right above the vein in the spot he’d first noticed back at the ball, right there, an inch upper than the collarbone, pulsing and pounding in such a sweet way that he was unable to resist the image, how it’d taste like if only he allowed his sharp fangs sink in it, have the dark red blood make a mess out of his mouth, feel the nectar drip on the skin, the tongue. Something about it was so romantic, so deep for him, but he couldn’t do it.

“Laisse-moi faire de toi un vampire, mon amour. Laisse-moi t’offrir la vie d’un Dieu,” he murmured into the side of your neck as he placed the most tender and fragile wet kisses upon it, it was the closest he could get to his request anyway.

“No, Lestat, leave!” you panicked, instantly denying. He was under control, or maybe he wasn’t, but taming the lust that grew in him wasn’t such a difficult task, you’d discovered.

“S’il te plaît,” he pleaded, stripping the sleeve of your clothing down your shoulder with his thumb. He was trying to avoid the conversation you so desperately wanted to have about his past, knew that if he tried seducing you, you’d forget all about it and either end up in bed with him or run off scared. Either way it was working. The smirk was displayed proudly across his lips, his breath smelled like a mixture of an expensive fruit based alcoholic beverage and rosemary. You couldn’t tell how your brain functioned at that moment, as Lestat rose closer to your face and stared at your lips, wetting his own with his flushed tongue. He teased you, leaned down as if to kiss you but pulled away the very centimeter his lips were to touch yours and moaned lowly, almost like a ghost of a whisper. He pressed his thumb on your neck and held you tight, then bent down again.

He drew closer, and for a moment, it almost seemed as if you had pulled away. You staring at him with your boring common eyes, nothing compared to his, and then his lips enclosed on yours; soft yet immersive, gentle yet powerful all the same. All there was was the two of you, or one of you, rather, and all he could feel was you.

“Tu ferais mieux de me tuer,” you whinged as his teeth tugged softly at your lower lip in his motion to pull away. His breath got caught as he cocked his head to the side, eyes still lustful and hot. “Kill me, Lestat, since you can’t have me the way you want me to. Kill me like you promised once.”

“I didn’t—didn’t promise anything like that,” he stuttered while kissing your clothed cleavage.

“But I ask for death. Otherwise we shall be this way always, imprisoned in the hope of ‘what if’.”

Lestat stared at you, smiling, becoming a hazy dreamlike vision, then hyperclear. “Ah, but the price is high,” he laughed, sinking back into the scent of your body passionately, wanting to become one with it. You were serious, in a way, and that he knew, but even the slightest thought of staring at your gray corpse would kill him internally for all eternity. He couldn’t possibly…

“We could be both covered in blood,” you suggested again in a strangled moan. You felt his teeth against your skin, he smiled at the dumb images you had to offer in order to wrap him around the strong spell of undeniable temptation.

“You could be mine forever,” he insisted.

“You’re losing me already, Lestat,” you whispered, but he was too caught up in undressing you to hear. Just a few more months, you promised to yourself as you gave in the pleasure of the night.

───

Lipstick, you found, was how falling in love felt.

Starts off in a smooth surface, full of vibrance and colour, but eventually it comes to an end, either that is natural and non-bumpy, simply finishing because there’s nothing more to it except a few smudges—remainings—on the lid that you can’t get rid of, or it breaks in half, violently, with roughness, tears, anger. Just like when you apply lipstick and the bar becomes too soft to stay on.

Lestat had been your lipstick kind of love.

Except you never knew whether you actually truly loved him or if it was the illusion of him that had you so wanderlust and captivated to him. Months had passed, you’d stayed by his side through all the fights, all the murders that followed in his need to feed, the broken glasses and frames. He always ended up showing a bit more to his fragility after every rage, the stronger, the more. He’d grown to be an open book to you, attached, unable to let go, afraid. Vampires could love. And each human sense was triple as intense for a vampire, so when Lestat fell in love, he devoted himself to it completely, loved hard and immensely, never held back or restrained his emotions. Of course, he never said it out loud.

It had been a while since he’d had someone, a person, a real person to hold on to, to caress their hair at night, to whisper sweet nothings to, to just feel like he can be free with and love deliberately.

Nights were so deep and slow, the stars faded away every time his heart beat faster for you. A vampire could only cry once, he remembered he’d once been told (by whom was unimportant).

You were done, you decided. Had suffocated enough, had cut yourself from the world for him and that was the end of it. You had grown rather fond of him, enjoyed having him around, loved kissing him and talking to him, even fighting with him had become familiar, almost in the dream of being a family with him. You saw him sitting over the piano, contemplating. He raised his eyes at you once found around your presence and smiled. You motioned him not to get up and instead dragged your feet exhaustively towards his side, bringing a hand over his cheek, cupping it softly one last time as he obliviously leaned against it.

“You look handsome tonight, Lestat,” you said.

Indeed, he was impeccably dressed, just like always, in such royal clothes, each layer holding a different peel of his personality. Every feature of his face was smooth and calm, bright and pale at the same time, but the surface felt like a fresh painting; exquisite and vulnerable to any touch. It was probably the only time you’d ever seen him gift you with such a genuine, heartwarming smile.

“I’ve been wanting… dreaming of telling you something. For a long time now, I fear,” he began the moment you removed your palm from his face and instead placed it over his hands in his lap. His fingers found yours immediately and interlocked quickly, excitedly. It broke your heart.

“I’m leaving,” you announced harshly and suddenly his thumbs froze against the top of your hands, which he dropped. He felt lightning crackle through his veins and time slowed down. Your stomach had lost no time in twisting into knots, but you put on a façade that said otherwise, showed you off as strong and determined, cold, hollow to any emotion.

He stilled and looked at you with his jaw agape, mouth quivering. You weren’t just saying it, you meant it. You were doing it—he was losing you. Lestat felt his heart clench around nothing at all.

“Have I done something? I’ll give it to you, whatever it is that you need, I promise.”

His hands were now catching yours again, this time in utter desperation, a form to plead and beg. Your chest heaved as you noticed the corners of his eyes well up, retina glossy and wet, as though… no, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—waste his only chance to let the tears go down, because he was sure that whatever he did, he’d fix, there was a way, he knew it, he was sure of it. He’d offered you so many things, for God’s sake! A house, food, clothes, safety, his trust and love, and you were throwing it all away, like you hadn’t stolen his soul and merged it with yours to become one, like you hadn’t reminded him what it felt to be alive again, after centuries of suffering eternity. Because you had been right when you said to him that eternity kills; it slaughters the purity of the heart, fights against hope. It forces you to be alone as you watch everyone you love perish. And Lestat had been there, still was, would always be.

“I told you, Lestat. I’m not your slave. And I can’t do this anymore, I can’t stay here… it’s killing me. And don’t you—don’t you—dare say anything foolish about how you feel about me,” you threatened through trembling lips, fighting back tears the same way he was, except you didn’t know how long you could put up with the pain.

“You all leave me!” he yelled as he got up from his seat, covering his face with his hands as he moved in circles. “You leave me when I need you the most, you want me dead! All of you!” In his rage, Lestat raised his fist and shattered the marble vase that sat on the coffee table next to the instrument, pieces falling everywhere all over the floor, sounding exactly like the way his heart was breaking. And there it was; the first tear.

It fell from his face in a rush, violently hitting the cold ground, burning his cheek on its way down. His only cry, his only pain, all out in the open as he saw his world come crashing down. And what broke him the most was the look on your face, the urge you felt to remain nonchalant, though. Like your heart wasn’t ripping in half either, like you wouldn’t desire him, love him, give him a chance. Like you hadn’t let him kiss you all those nights as a silent way to confess his love for you, no.

“I’m not yours, I never was,” you struggled out.

“I’m yours. Don’t you see it? I would do anything for us, just let there be an ‘us’ for once, I beg you.”

“You just don’t want to be alone,” you breathed as his chest sunk with each breath. “You don’t love me, Lestat, you just love having someone to keep you out of the misery in your endless life.”

“You can’t… you can’t leave me… you can’t possibly believe all that,” he cried as he grasped your hands, but you pulled away, took a step further away from him with each try he made to get closer, to hold you for one last time, because if he ever had you around his embrace at that moment, you’d never be able to let go. You’d leave and Lestat would look for you in the face of everyone he’d kill to feed from with pure hearted and pleasure at the same time, such sickness that drew you away from him. He shook his head in denial, refused to let himself reason as you faded into a memory, or even a long lasting dream he never wanted to wake up from.

“I must…”

“I can’t bear it! Come back to me… when did I even lose you? When did you start to slip from me? I did… I did everything… I confined in you.”

“You needn’t say such things, Lestat…”

“You’ll stay.”

“No.” The answer was final, he knew it. Lestat De Lioncourt, knelt before your very eyes, broken down to the core, unable to get a hold of himself as his fingers weakened and he watched them slowly let go of yours, now holding nothing. He couldn’t hold you, just like he couldn’t hold anyone else in his life, not even himself.

The sun and moon yearned for each other, but time kept them apart. Eclipses would the only brief moments of bliss, when both of you could pretend that death hadn’t rooted into your souls, where Lestat spent the rest of eternity loving you.

FIN.

for my girl @honeymvnt !! this is your insanely late birthday gift, i hope it lives up to your expectations from all the nights we talked about it. love you 🫵🏼🎀

#lestat de lioncourt #iwtv lestat #interview with the vampire #tom cruise #lestat 1994 #lestat de lioncourt x reader #tom cruise x reader #interview with the vampire 1994 #tom cruise imagine #the vampire lestat #vampire #angst #not a good ending #tom cruise oneshot #i hate this #angsty #lestat de lioncourt oneshot

[lilaliend]

the witch and the bats ⠀♡

AUTHORS NOTE ; this is my very first fan fiction or anything close to it. I have written a handful of short stories before and am currently on a project so bare with me. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. You have been warned, and it is also 4AM as I write this. So please excuse any grammatical errors or general mistakes! I am open to suggestions as well some constructive criticism! Asks and Requests are open!

WARNINGS : None, this is just a short writing sampler. OC is a female assigned witch, though no name has been given to her character and no description of her body nor appearance is provided. Scenario / Blurp is based on the anon ask below !

An annoyed look casted over the woman’s features. Her small herb and floral potions shop sat in between two dingy and putrid clubs the incessant loud noises and oppressive smell of alcohol and sex that clung to the air, had the witch growing more and more tempted to simply turn in early return to her small cupboard-like apartment in the old bustling streets of New Orleans, but the thought had been quickly forgotten when she glanced at her watched and caught time of the hour. It was near closing time, finally. The new girl she had hired started closing down her small shop. The witch took this time to distract herself, she stepped outside to sweep the quaint entrance of her small shop, her eyes met by a familiar man across the road, the old prince of these streets had been roaming the city with his blonde counterpart, a look of trouble foaming both of their features. 

she picked up her broom and made haste back inside her shop. “marseilla, you can head out for the rest of the night. I’ll be closing by myself tonight, dear.” she called to the girl───or rather young witch───who had so graciously stayed past her waging hours to help organize a bit.

the young witch had taken her leave just in time, right as her apprentice left the door’s top bell chimed. alerting the woman that she had guests.

“Well, if it isn’t the devil and his advocate, she spoke in reference to the golden blonde who had made his presence known, a sly smirk took form over the french man’s features. Her graze leaving his and falling onto her old friend, Louis De Pon Lac. She offered the man a kind smile, but only that. The night he had given up his humanity had been the last night the two had seen each other. That was months ago, and the witch had no desire to associate herself with the troubles of the night. “What brings you two to my shop?” Her tone was sharp, her head held high. She wasn’t planning on selling them anything.

“I hear word that your crafts are quite extraordinary. I was simply in the market to get a certain… uh, Louis how is it you say it?” Lestat’s voice trailed off, his eyes wandering around the many trinkets and figures that were displayed on the many old and rustic shelves. He paced around the small shop, seemingly enthralled by everything that it had to offer. “Talisman.” Louis shortly replied. Unlike the other man, he remained still, unmoving from his original spot. His eyes were still locked on her────or so she thinks, she couldn’t really tell with the darkened eyeglasses the man now wore. His frame was still merely a few feet away from the witch. The only thing keeping them apart was her shop's front desk.

“ Ah ! Yes ! A talisman ! ” The blond yelled from somewhere in the back end of the store. The sound of his footsteps were light, and the cool breeze that flew into the shop by one of the many broken windows sent a shiver up the witch's back. “ You see my dear friend here has recently been through quite a lot , a loss in the family , and I heard those could be a great deal . ” Lestat had finally found his way back towards the store’s front. His piercing green eyes finally met hers, and as she stared through those orbs. She couldn’t find a single trace of a soul.

“ A talisman ? Interesting . ” She pondered. “ I’d love to make your friend here one but it takes quite a lot of time , a few days and I lack the resources to make one . Besides──” Before her rejection could finish reaching the air, Louis cut her off. “ Take all the time you need , I can wait . I’ll even pay double──no , triple . Just don’t . . . reject me . ” His voice was laced with what she could only compare to something a kin to regret, maybe even disparity. But whatever it was, it had made the woman look at the man as just that. A man───not the monster that he truly was. That he chose to become.

“ Fine. . . I’ll do it . But given your nature , I can’t guarantee its proper function . ” She still cared for him, but it was a carelessness that came as a result of shared history; as the two have known each other throughout their entire life and all of their childhood. 

The night of her brother’s funeral. When she had seen runoff, broken, and uncommonly in the streets. She should’ve followed him, should’ve offered her shoulder to cry on, instead, she too had been driven by grief and secluded herself from the others. The witch had grown to regret that night deeply, but she was thankful for having the opportunity to repair her misdeeds, even if it was already a little too late to save him.

#iwtv 2022 #amc iwtv #iwtv lestat #iwtv louis #loustat #louis de pointe du lac #louis x eader #louis de pointe du lac fanfic #lestat de lioncourt #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat de lioncourt fanfic #first fanfic #fanfiction #anon: witch oc #pls be nice #and share if you can

[the-taxidermist]

𝓘𝔀𝓽𝓿 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝔂𝓹𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓫𝓮

(𝗜 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗳**𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗼)

𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑫ℯ 𝑷𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆 𝑫𝒖 𝑳𝒂𝒄

𝗦𝗳𝘄

𝗛𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵.

𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝗳 𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗽𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗶𝘇𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲.

𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲.

𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻. 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗗𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹.

𝗣𝗹𝘂𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂

𝗡𝘀𝗳𝘄

𝗜 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗬𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 ! 𝗟𝗼𝘂𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗱𝗼𝗺.

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 ""𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀"" 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲.

𝗛𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝘅 𝗶𝘀 , 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗮 𝘄𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱.

𝗛𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 , 𝗟𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 , 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝘁.

𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲? 𝗛𝗲'𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 , 𝗽𝗹𝘂𝘀 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗯𝘂𝘁𝗹𝗲𝗿 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽.

ℒℯ𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉 𝒟ℯ ℒ𝒾ℴ𝓃𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓉

𝗦𝗳𝘄

𝗦𝗮𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗹𝗶𝗹 𝘀𝗵𝗶-

𝗜𝘀 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀.

𝗛𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝗽 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲.

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗻 ��𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁���𝗹𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗼𝗺.

𝗜𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝙗𝙚 "𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙙"

𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗬𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 ! 𝗟𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁.

𝗡𝘀𝗳𝘄

𝗢𝗵 𝗺𝗮𝗻 ... 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗴𝗼 𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

𝗛𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝘀𝗮𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗼 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘅𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗴𝗼-𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝘁.

𝗛𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗲𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗸𝗻𝗲𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲.

𝗜𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗱𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝗽 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲.

Hey author over here I wrote this while I was on my period and it's a part 1 so please stay tuned for a part 2

#louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire (1994 version) #louis de pointe du lac x reader #lestat de lioncourt x reader #it took me weeks to make this

[sqream-queen]

💖💖💖Yall please send me some Lestat (Queen Of the Damned) requests. I'll do headcanons and lil drabbles. Love the arrogant shit head. 💖💖💖

#lestat de lioncourt #the vampire lestat #qotd #queen of the damned #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat queen of the damned #queen of the damned lestat

[deadmanswhore01]

A Lestat appreciation post of you will

This man I don't know how he did it but he was the perfect environment of how I read lestat to be when I was in middle school. He forever changed my type in men and I'm not complaining 🤣

#lestat de lioncourt x reader