#ofthineguilt

Bulky headphones shield her ears from the outside world; blocking out the screams and shouts from fans, only giving her the opportunity to hear Lestast. Ignoring the rest of the world. She spent many hours standing outside, eagerly waiting to spot the musician. But did not think she would be rewarded to have his full attention. Golly, What did she do to deserve something like this?

She would giggle softly in response, hands gently flayed to express her excitement. And then she would begin to rock back and fourth. It certainly was difficult for her to control expressing joy. Could you blame her? She was speaking (sort of) with one of her favourite musicians. Part of her wish she was meeting Elvis Presley or Bob Dylan, but she was over the moon with talking to Lestat. He was incredible.

'Stained Glass Eyes is my favourite. Such a beautiful yet sad song. It is much different than your other songs, but artists must have at least one or two sad songs in their song list, right?'

She liked the violin solo, she could take or leave all that gyrating that made the crowd go wild and rush towards the stage but he is young, well compared to her and her friend and so full of zest, he reminds her a little bit of her stepdaughter with golden hair and a joie de vivre that filled a room and for a moment, Ysabeau thinks of her and misses her so much that the world might have lost it's light.....Or the stage lights turned off as the blond vampire addressed his fans sending many pushing forward. Verin was happy....that is all that mattered.

I am the vampire Lestat... his very performance is insult to their kind and she ought to join the roar of the ancients in silencing him...but she can't help herself, mortal's memories are so very short but vampires remembered for ever, vampiric eyes gazed at the blond haired Adonis and could only see the young man from Auvergne that left naive into the woods and returned the Wolfkiller and as two vampires think about making a statement, she decides that theres so very few of them that shone so brightly, what a shame it would be it would be if that had been his swan song and intervenes.

No mortal eyes would ever see her and Lestat might as well been a leaf as the ancient pried him from his stage mid-note and in a blink of an eye they are backstage and her gloved hand is stained throwing a vampiric heart to ground, heeled foot destroying it.

"There was another- you best return to your fans and be careful. The other was not as young." She is distant, cold and aristocratically poised. The other vampire would show himself.

"You best put to rest your plans of ire before they cost you dearly" she spoke putting herself in front of the younger vampire, a life barely lived compared to her.

"Says who"

me when it’s literally my birthday and you’re literally wishing me a happy birthday……heh…..

BUT ON A SERIOUS NOTE — thank you so so so much my beloved nova 💚🌼 i adore you to the moon and back….youre such a lovely person to talk to and you allow me to ramble nonstop allllll the damn time and for that i am FOREVER indebted to you!!!!

our little two sides of the same coin steaming hot messes,,,,, oh biles how i love you so. we will be making them even more tragic and depressing and I cannot wait🩷

𖤝 … @ofthineguilt,

⸻ ❛ What is it that you do not want the forest to remember? ❜ It's poor etiquette to answer a question with a question. It would certainly irk Enora. However, she knows feathers have been ruffled. Lestat's inflection informs her of as much.

It makes her want to dig deep with those sharp, perfectly pearlescent nails of hers.

❛ Might it cause the forest to hold a grudge? Or, is it simply a memory for nature to have and hold, on your behalf? ❜ Her appetite to hear what he has to say is colossal, stomach fiendishly growling for the meat and bones of the matter.

For the smug display that drips from her features, she is being genuine, ultimately.

Last night it had been the fire, the night before that drowning, and the one before that werewolves. Each time she crept down to Daddy Lou's coffin, knocked on it soft as a mouse… and then a little louder when he didn't stir. Each time he opened the coffin lid, arms wide and eyes concerned. Sweet words of comfort muttered under his breath as he lulled her back to sleep. Claudia can tell it wears on him. He's snappier with Uncle Les, falls asleep while reading his favourite books. She feels his love and tries not to wear it like a burden.

What may have started as a nightmare has left a void of memory. Groggy and unsteady, her chest heaves with an unplaceable panic. This time her small hand stops just short of Louis' coffin. Hovering momentarily before fingertips brush lovingly against its wooden frame.

There's a longer pause still as she stands above the intimidating ivory. Lestat opens the coffin before she ask.

Claudia creeps into the coffin the way a child may navigate the stove after getting burnt for the first time. Uncertainty worries her brow and pink eyes look the space up and down as if assessing the limited space. She clutches her journal to her chest, an uncapped pen held tightly in her hand. Pink slippered feet step into the coffin with a delicate tip-toe. When she crouches back down it's with some trepidation, a flutter of her stomach like she'd not eaten enough. But Uncle Les' body was surprisingly warm and his arms welcomed her the way Daddy Lou's so often did.

Strong is the first word that comes to mind. Lestat's chest is sturdier than Louis' and his arms feel like they really might hold the strength of ten men. She curls into him, hands fisting the soft silk of his robe. A sigh of relief. Safe at last.

"You ever have nightmares, Uncle Les?" The question comes forth before she can assess whether it's worth asking- he was so stingy with his answers.

Send me your muses height and I'll compare them to mine!

From here.

Lestat's instinctual default was to inquire upon an unsettled debt he had with the world. Armand found it amusing. He delayed answering in favor of watching the vampire first. Then he smiled, considering the differentiation between want and insecurity. Their kind had plenty of it, which made them painfully human. "I wondered." Armand's chin tilted an inch to the left. The rest of him was a motionless statue. "And I wandered until I ran into you." On purpose. His eyes averted. "You've been treating this era well considering your belated arrival." Armand smiled. "Tell me, does it make up for your absence?"