He caught sight of you and locked eyes with yours. Those blue eyes were the first thing that caught your attention when you saw him. Just sitting across the crowded cafe from you.

You could feel the air change in the entire room as you still locked eyes with one another. All you could hear was your own heart as it slowly beats within your ribcage like a twittering little bird and the words coming out of this stranger's lips.

It was like he was drowning out the entire world, just to listen to your heartbeat. Just you.

Then in the blink of an eye, everything went back to normal in the cafe. After he was finished talking to the server, the server nodded his head and walked away with the pad of paper and pencil in hand.

With his eyes still locked onto yours, he made his way swiftly over to where you were sitting. “Enchanté Mademoiselle,” he says in French, “pardon my intrusion of your personal space, but I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. I’m new here to this place.” He says with a smile spread across his lips.

You could feel your face flush the way he talked to you. Soft and elegant. 

“Do you mind if I sit with you? I’m new to this place and hardly know my way around.” You nodded your head immediately, as he pulled the chair out closest to you and sat down. “So, what brings you to New Orleans Monsieur?”

“Lioncourt. Lestat de Lioncourt. But, you may call me Lestat, Mademoiselle.” Lestat de Lioncourt. That name soon began to roll off your tongue the many times you’ve seen him afterwards.

“I’ve come here for a change of scenery. Wanting a fresh start in the New World away from birthplace France after many years.” The way he said that sounded ambitious. A whole lot of people are coming over to the New World in the early 20th century to make their mark with ambitions and dreams that came with them.  

Lestat began to talk about his childhood in his home country of France, how he got to Paris on a small dream for the theater, and becoming both an actor and a musician. A man of the arts he says. You sat there mesmerized by him about how he talked about his dreams in the arts and how they came true for him.

“What about you Mademoiselle? What do you do for a living here in New Orleans?” He asked you, with an ambitious smile on his lips. It was your turn to talk about yourself now.

You talked about being born here in New Orleans to a well modest family and raised in the French Quarter. Following the footsteps of your parents where you became a dress maker like your mother and a painter like your father. 

Then the two of you talked on and on about your lives, what you liked, what your interests are, and other things about music or art. Time moved on swiftly as the two of you finished talking as the cafe was closing for the night.

“Do you mind if I walk you home Mademoiselle? It looks too dangerous for a young woman such as yourself to be walking home alone this time of night,” he says looking around and pointing.

You nodded your head and told him where you lived. Then the two of you walked several dozen blocks towards your townhouse. As you walked, you resumed talking more about you and Lestat about himself.

The two of you could go on and on about yourselves until dawn, but it ended once you’ve reached the gates to your townhouse. “This is where I live, Monsieur Lestat. Thank you for walking me home.”

“You are most welcome. Apologies, I didn’t quite catch your name back at the cafe Mademoiselle.”

“(Y/L/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N). But you may call me (Y/N) Monsieur Lestat.” He smiled the moment you said your name. “(Y/N),” your name rolling off his tongue now. “Good night Mademoiselle (Y/N),” he said, bringing your hand up gently, “ It was a pleasure meeting you. We shall meet again.” He then laid a kiss upon your knuckles, making you gasp a bit and made your heart jump a bit.

“Yes. Good night to you too Monsieur Lestat.” He smiled at you again with those gorgeous grayish blue eyes of his and gently let go of your hand. You watched him walk off into the night, knowing you’ll see him again another night.

After that night, you began to date Lestat de Lioncourt for the next three months.

It was like a fairy tale for you and he was your prince charming taking you out on well thought out dates. Carriage rides, art galleries, little outings in the park, delightful meals in the cafes and restaurants, and watching touring operas.

The two of you got closer and closer to one another over the past three months as your relationship got more serious for you and him. The only thing that puzzled you was that you only saw him only at nighttime.

Lestat says that he spends most of the time working on perfecting his art and sleeps during the day. It sounded like he was a bit of a shut in, but it didn’t matter. He would spend most of his nights with you anyway. 

Then things started to get strange when you weren’t with him. You would see him in the corner of your eye and he wouldn’t be there once you turned your head to look at him. You would keep seeing him do this when at your dress shop or at your townhouse. 

That wasn’t the only thing that was going. There would be times you would hear him call out your name inside of your mind. “(Y/N). Come to me (Y/N). Come to me now.” He would say to get your attention and for you to come to him.

At first you thought you were imagining things, but it was very hard to explain. Until one night, everything had changed.

Lestat had finally invited you to come to his townhouse after a night out at an opera that was in New Orleans on tour for the season. This was your first time seeing it since he usually came over to your place after your nightly outings. 

Once you came inside, you were taken aback seeing it. His place was beautiful and fully furnished with various items he collected during his travels. It felt cozy, warm, and welcoming once you stepped through the doorway.  

 You went over to sit down on the couch in the parlor, as Lestat went to make a couple of drinks for the two of you as a nightcap. 

Everything looked beautiful in his townhouse. It was almost like living inside of a museum. Lestat came back with the drinks in hand and sat down next to you as you got comfortable. 

When you finished your drink, you placed the glass down next to you and turned to look at Lestat. You were starting to feel a bit dizzy from the drink you were given. You weren’t used to drinking any alcohol.

“My dear mon cher, are you alright?” You heard Lestat’s voice in your mind. His lips didn’t move. Not one bit. You felt hot and dizzy. Like everything was on fire.

Lestat placed his fingers under your chin and placed his lips upon yours. A sweet and passionate first kiss. The scent of scotch mingling with the sweet smell coming from him. Like spring and fall dancing with one another.

“Come with me mon cher. I want to pleasure you tonight.” He said with his mind. You nodded your head, with his lips still upon yours. “Yes my love.” You thought softly. “Follow me then little robin.”

As his lips left yours, he took you in his arms and walked both of you up the stairs to his bedroom. Guiding you with a swift walking motion.

 He laid you on top of the bed, clawing at your dress. Almost tearing it off like an animal in a way. You were overwhelmed with him. Stripping you both down to your bare skin.

Lestat began peppering your whole body with kisses, making you grow hotter and hotter by the second. You could feel the tip of his cock enter your slick folds. A loud gasp escaped from your lips, as he thrusts himself into you.

Thrust after thrust, you moaned louder and louder as you gripped onto the bed sheets. He made a line of kisses down your jawline, neck, collar bone, breasts, stomach, waist, and thighs. Then he bit into your inner thigh.

A fiery sensation surged through your whole body as he sank his teeth into your soft flesh. Like an animal devouring its meal. This sensation felt strange in a way, as his teeth dug deeper into your flesh. 

You wanted to scream, but nothing came out from your lips. He then looked up at you and what you saw shocked you down to your core. Fangs. His mouth and fangs were covered in blood he drank from your inner thigh.

There was only one thing running through your mind right now. Vampire. 

Lestat then thrust his cock back into you, making you moan from the shock of it suddenly entering into you. Another thrust made you moan out a sound of pleasure. You gripped onto the bedsheets as Lestat continued to thrust and kiss you at the same time.

Then without warning, Lestat sank his fangs into your neck. You gasped out in shock and pleasure as they sank into your jugular vein with the blood pumping rapidly against it.

You could feel your heart slow down a bit as he drank from you. It was a weird sensation to feel. Feeling sweet, beautiful pleasure for the first time from someone you fell in love with when you first saw each other that night at the cafe.

Satisfied with his fill of you, Lestat removed his fangs from your neck and cock from your precious bodily part. Looking down upon you, Lestat smiled with your blood smeared upon his lips.

“You are so beautiful and precious to me mon cher. I want you to be mine forever. Do you want to spend eternity with me?” He asked you in a whisper. “Yes,” you answered weakly, “yes. I want to be with you, my love, Monsieur Lestat de Lioncourt.”

Pleased with your answer, Lestat drank more of your blood leaving you near death and let you drink from his wrist. You felt your whole body change as you drank from him.

- When he can, and when he wants to be, Lestat is like a dream personified: one you feel so vividly and yearn for so ardently that you pray you’ll never breach the waking world again. He sweeps you off your feet; both figuratively and literally, until all that’s left of you is a foggy haze that can think only of fairytales and fantasy. 

- And yet, the dream is bound to end as nothing short of a nightmare. 

- Lestat views mortals as toys, things he can do with as he pleases, and dispose of as quickly and as often as it suits him. He hardly ever takes into consideration the feelings and the value of those around him, save for when he decides he wants them: and even then, he can’t help but play cruel little games. 

- Lestat’s love, in general, is a game. It’s a game of cat and mouse, one that only he ever manages to win. No matter how long it may take, no matter how hard you may try to avoid it, no matter how much it might hurt you, you’ll end up being his in one way or another, even if it kills you....

- At first, Lestat is very open about his infatuation with you, introducing himself to you in the dead of night as you walk the streets or sit in your garden. He apologizes for scaring you, ignoring how strange his sudden appearance may be; how it seems almost impossible for him to be where he is right in that moment.

- Though you're too distracted by his physical appearance to truly consider the logistics. Too distracted by his complexion and his hair that seems to be glowing in the moonlight, how striking his eyes are, how expensive his clothes are. He's completely foreign to you; both in physical attributes and status, and because of that, you're taken with him from the start.

- Being with him is thrilling, it's exhilarating, and it feels almost dangerous, so comparably taboo to everything you've ever been taught to yearn for. You would have never imagined that you'd be sneaking away in the middle of the night, tiptoeing past your parents room or climbing down the steep side of your home's architecture: all to meet with a man who only ever appears to you in dark corners and secluded spaces. You would have never imagined slipping back inside just as the sun rises and hiding your exhaustion in the morning at the breakfast table, knowing that if your father ever found out he'd lock you away.

- But just being with Lestat is enough to make you forget about any and all consequences that you may face. He's able to strip away your worries: waxing poetic about how he loves you and how he'll never allow anything to happen to you. About how he's capable of giving you a life that you couldn't even imagine.

- He's worse than the devil when telling you how he'll let you live deliciously: promising you no more pain or sorrow for the rest of time, how not even sickness or death could ever touch you again. But only if you'll trust in him, love him, accept him, him, him, him. His tone is never above a whisper yet it's deafening, rendering the world around you silent so that all you can hear is the beating of your heart and the softness of his voice.

- When he talks to you about the future, it's as though he can read your mind: as though he understands you on some deep and emotional level, perfectly summing up your deepest and darkest feelings that you do your best to hide. He promises to change the things you wish to change, to give you the things you have always yearned for, to rid you of the grievances and the heartaches that you have grown to worry about. Out of everyone in your life, it is a complete stranger who seems to know you best, and it makes you feel as though you are somehow one in the same, connected on some otherworldly level.

- He flirts with you in your more lighthearted moments together: making you laugh and flush and hide your face. He speaks so smoothly, so charmingly, so intelligently. All the boys you've ever met have either been perfectly plain or dreadfully boring, and Lestat is the total opposite: so full of life and passion and romance. It's like he holds your heart in his hands and tells it when to beat.

- He calls you such beautiful things: things reserved for your parents or the letters between history's greatest lovers. Some are comparably innocent to others, holding the affection of a guardian rather than a lover. Pet, lambkin, sugarplum, treasure, angel, beloved, darling, dove, lover, my love, my dearest, my heart, etc. Not to mention when he speaks in his native tongue.

- It's easy to forget who you actually are when every name he seems to call you is a term of endearment or your name spoken in a tone that you've never heard before. He makes it seem so foreign and different: makes you feel different.

- And when he feels his words are no longer enough, he moves on to gifts: covering you in gems and jewels and satins. You tuck them away in the bottom of your dresser, keeping them hidden away from your families prying eyes. The first time you visit his home, you're shown a room that's already made for you: it's closets and dressers full of luxuries that you've never known.

- When he zips and clasps you into them, his fingers linger on the pulse beneath his touch. He kisses your wrists and your neck as his hands slide across your body, listening to the heartbeat racing in your chest and the thoughts crossing your mind, knowing that his affection is filling you with burning heat.

- It's an age of innocence that you live in, and Lestat is a creature of sin: when he woos you, it's bound to include seduction and lust. He wants to sway you towards a life of debauchery, the type of life he has lived for quite some time, the type of life that he can give to you: one without punishment and restriction, one with only pleasure.

- He tries to lower your inhibitions: tries to trap you in a whirlwind of excitement, and romance, and affection, until all that's left is a dizzying love that makes you want to give yourself to him and only him. When he feels he can get away with it, he'll lean in close, staring straight into your eyes as his mouth draws nearer to your own. A grin pulls at his lips, feeling as though he is seconds away from stealing a kiss and sealing your fate.

- It's then that you pull away, wanting to; needing to, preserve your chastity, not wanting to allow yourself to get carried away and do irreversible damage; to be a fool for the sake of love. On one hand, he loves it. On the other, it infuriates him. He soothes himself with your touch, pausing only for a moment as your head turns away from his own before dropping his face into the crook of your neck or burying it in your hair, feeling your softness against him; a promise of what he is capable of winning as long as he can remain patient.

- You're so soft, so warm, so sweet: all attributes he tries to imitate himself; wanting you to trust him more than anything. He drapes himself across you, lays his head in your lap or rests his chin on your shoulders, wanting to seem gentler than he is. He is a monster, yes, but he's determined to convince you that he is not: as though he holds less control than he actual does, as though he is weaker than he is. Perhaps in a way, he is weaker: weak for you, for your touch, for your acceptance, for your love.

- And in convincing you that he is weak for you, he manages to win you over and turn you away from your family, planting seeds of doubt in your mind and ideas about running away with him. He introduces you to passion, to all of the things your family taught you to stay away from because they're sinful and will lead you down a dark path. He questions why something so beautiful and pleasureful would be so wrong for you to engage in. Why god would mean to keep you from enjoying them, from enjoying life and enjoying him, enjoying all the pleasure that he convinces you to let him give to you.

- At some point, he will find himself an entry point into your regular life: likely by attending a party that you and your family are at, and making himself known as an honored guest or sponsor; someone that the people around him are bound to respect and trust. He pretends not to know you when the two of you are introduced, though the way he looks at you when he kisses your hand will tell anyone who's watching that that is simply not the case.

- He plays nice in the presence of others, treating you more like a child than a potential wife: acting like a protective uncle when in the company of your family, friends, or suitors. He cultivates a close relationship in public with you under this pretense, lowering your families guards and making them believe that he truly has your best interests in mind. When other men come around, he is not seen as a competitor, but rather a guardian, someone that they must convince to like them if they wish to get close to you

- Yet for all of this acting, there always comes a time in the middle of the night when he finds you alone, acting as though a switch has been flipped and he cannot keep himself off or away from you. He grabs you from amongst the darkness, concealing your shrieks of surprise as he holds you close to him, growling about how he's missed you and cooing at you as grumble about how he's treated you all evening. He reminds you that you must keep your love a secret; whether it was initially his idea or your own, and against your better judgement, you begin to soften once more; forgiving him as he smiles at and hugs you close to him.

- He keeps you close to him at parties once he feels he has earned the right to; or even when he feels he hasn't, urging you to sit with him at his side and leaning into you so that he can murmur little comments in your ear, grinning as you giggle and try to hide it. You sit at his side as he plays the piano, watching his fingers fly across the keys as he quietly makes lighthearted conversation or teasing quips.

- In the presence of others, his affection turns gentle and innocent: tapping your chin, booping your nose, patting your cheek, escorting you around by your interlocked arms. In private his affection is more intimate: brushing your hair from your face, toying with your jewelry, lingering caresses, purposefully placed hands, long and gentle kisses. It's hard to grow used to the difference: how he can be one man one moment, and seem like a totally different one the next.

- But Lestat enjoys this difference, this game of his that he gets to play with you. It's a game he takes even further in an effort to make you jealous, to make you even more interested in him: to invoke some kind of strong reaction in you and bring the two of you closer in the long run. It's a rotten and dangerous game that he plays: brushing you off in favor of another, disregarding how happy you are to see him, taking pleasure in your confusion and disappointment.

- He expects to bite then lap at the wound like a dog, be the one to hurt you then strip you of the pain. He expects you to eagerly accept his undivided attention later on: for you to feel fortunate for the scraps, to wait for his beck and call. And how rewarding it is for you when you ensure that his plan backfires. Two can play at that game, you reason, and you watch as he conceals his own jealousy in response to your actions.

- When he stands you up during your nightly meetings, you don't show up the next day yourself. When you're at a mutual party, you dance and stay by the side of a boy your father boisterously insists you'll marry one day. When you need fresh air, you take the boy with you and sit in the garden side by side. And oh how Lestat could snap his neck like a twig: drain him right in front of you and sully your little saintlike dress. There's still a chance that he will....

- Your attention is like a drug to him and when he is left with none of it, he festers in sickness and in agony, rotting from the inside as he suffers from withdrawals. He must remind himself to be patient when he thinks about sweeping you away, about making you his and forcing you to stay with him until the end of time.

- He'll undoubtedly interrupt you, whether during your sit down with your potential suitor or after it happens: either scaring the boy off with the sheer tension and anger that radiates off of him, or stealing you away when his back is turned, grabbing you in the blink of an eye; reminiscent of times when you were both in much more jovial moods. His ability to suddenly appear will never cease to shock you, to startle you before you gain your bearings and sigh at the sight of him; whether in relief or annoyance.

- It's in these moments that he has to be very careful. He feels the need to turn you, to ensure that you're not going anywhere, but in doing that, he is playing a very dangerous game. Lestat believes that you could grow to love him over time, that you would get over the initial resentment of being turned once you realize the gift that he's bestowed upon you. But what if you don't? What if he loses you all the same? You'd be as good as dead then, wouldn't you? Immortal and yet refusing to be by his side. He wouldn't let you, but that's besides the point.

- If he does manage to quell those urges, manage to convince himself that now is not the time to change you, then he must decide on how to deal with you accordingly: decide if anger is the way to go, if sorrow is, if kindness should prevail above all else. Sometimes his temper gets the better of him and his sweetened words turn sour, making you wonder if the man standing before you is the same man you've grown to love.

- Oftentimes, you respond just as angrily, lashing out at him in the same venomous way, your pain and your exhaustion showing through. He can't help but love it, love the anger and the passion that you show him. He finds your fury exhilarating: proof of why he chose you in the first place, proof of how perfect you are for each other.

- It's then that he turns on the charm: smiling and laughing in amusement, somehow turning this rage of yours into a bonding moment. It's baffling to witness, and it gives you much to think about. It's in these moments that he might be forced to turn you, seeing the conflict on your face, hearing the words leave your lips, orders for him to leave you alone, how you never wish to see him again.

- He can't allow you to make that decision, to leave him and be rid of him forever. He'll ensure that you're unable to: that no matter where you go and no matter how far you run, he will continue to be the only one you can turn to, the only one who can understand and guide you. You'll learn to love him then, he'll make sure of it. Despite all the aggravation, a life without him will be even more unbearable, ...and you'll realize that soon enough.

- There's a very likely chance that he'll woo you after he bites you, that he'll turn you during your first meeting, or feed from you and later convince you to let him change you. For the sake of these headcanons, I've pretended as though there's a reason he's unable to steal you away in the middle of the night and run away with you. Just let it be known that under different circumstances, he might react very differently when trying to win you over.

- That being said: Lestat does try to give you the choice when deciding whether or not to change you; regardless of your history together. Although, it isn't much of a choice, is it? It's either change or die: a sort of "pick your poison" type of scenario.

- I can see him making his secret known in an attempt to win you over and intrigue you, to fascinate you with his mere existence and draw you towards him even more. Your interest in him facilitates his beliefs about you: about how you're made for his world and not your own. The fact that you're not terrified of him; that you still yearn to be near him even after learning what he is, proves to him that you're different from everyone else, that there's a reason he chose you out of every other person on Earth.

- Logistically, you know that things like him should not exist: that even if they do, they're dangerous and should be avoided at all costs. And yet, you find yourself incapable of of doing so. Knowing that he exists frightens you, and yet it fascinates you even more, making you want to continue seeing him: scared of losing this double life of yours that has allowed you to see things beyond your own comprehension and the set of beliefs that you've been taught since birth. If you turn from him, you risk going back to a normal and boring life, forced into realism after getting a taste of true fantasy.

- When you tell him you like horror movies he’s quick to tease you about it. He finds it amusing since it’s most likely partially the reason you’re with him.

“Really? Imagine such a little thing like you entertained by all that blood and terror.”

- It may seem ridiculous but Lestat genuinely gets slightly jealous seeing you so interested in these types of movies or more specifically the villain/ slasher of these movies. 

- He’s a slightly tamer version of a horror movie slasher yet you don’t seem quite as interested in him as you do the people on screen. What’s so interesting about these killers? He’s a vampire for Christ’s sake!

- He’ll sit and watch the movie with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. He’ll criticize every little thing that he deems wrong with the movie as the two of you watch and get even more jealous when you shush him.

“That’s not even what it looks like when you slit someone’s throat!”

- All of a sudden you’ll feel his hand on your thigh and then his lips on your neck. You can’t tell if it’s because he’s jealous or he’s honestly getting turned on by the gore in the film which wouldn’t be unrealistic.

- You’ve probably had sex or he’s at least given you oral while a horror movie plays in the background.

- He gives whatever he’s holding a squeeze when he feels you jolt or flinch. It’s usually your thigh and you’ll almost always hear him chuckle at your reaction. 

- He insists on pulling you into his lap when he thinks that you get “too scared” for his liking. It’s an obvious excuse for him to touch you and more importantly make it hard for you to pay attention.

- When he isn’t getting jealous he actually really enjoys the films you watch. He’s really entertained by all the gore and terror and tends to watch it all with a grin on his face.

- He usually just laughs at whatever makes you flinch or jump.

- He’d spoil you with movies, props from sets of your favorite films, any merch you’d like; you name it and he’d buy it for you.

- He’d be glad to get the two of you premiere tickets to any new horror movies you’d like to see.

- After you’ve finished the movie he’d teasingly insist that you stay over and sleep with him so that he can “protect you” from all of the things that go bump in the night.

- He’d watch your reactions to the movie with silent interest, seeing how your face changes and body moves.

- Even though he hardly ever really watches the movie he’ll gladly let you talk about your opinions and certain scenes like he knows what you’re talking about.

- A lot of the time he wonders how you can stand just sitting around and watching these types of movies.

- He finds it absolutely adorable whenever you cling to him or jolt in your seat when something pops out during the film. 

- He’ll grin down at you and run a soothing hand down your back if you hide your face in his chest.

- He’d like it if you sat in his lap while the two of you watch the movie you’ve chosen; he’d rest his head on your shoulder and glance from the tv to the side of your face whenever you said something or he heard you gasp.

- Even after so many years as a vampire it makes him slightly uncomfortable watching all of the blood and gore that’s on screen. It sort of reminds him of the parts of himself that he really doesn’t like; the parts of him that makes him think he’s a monster. That’s usually why he prefers to watch you; among other reasons of course. 

- He’ll usually have a sort of grimace on his face whenever he actually watches the movie instead of you; unless the movie is more about psychological horror which is what he prefers. 

- He also likes classic horror movies; movies from the 20s and 30s that are for the most part hilariously bad.

- Sometimes he wonders if your love for the macabre is part of the reason you’re dating him/ how you can even stand to be around someone like him. He kind of finds the thought amusing yet slightly upsetting.

- You definitely feel a lot more “safe” when he’s around; not that you were ever in danger or really even scared to begin with. Just having him near you always seems to make the jump scares and creepy moments less scary.

- Considering he’s a night crawler he would have no objections to taking you out to late night showings at the movie theater.