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REQUEST FILL #4: Lestat and Louis forced to share a coffin - “Interview with the Vampire” (I have drawn this scene before, but I’m much more pleased with this updated version. I laughed at it for an hour.)

Request by @redversaillesrose

@otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

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Wang first, into the eye of God

There are so very many reasons to simply adore Tale of the Body Thief from beginning to end, but one of the better ones is Lestat flying wang first into the sun during a manic depressive episode that results in an attempt at self immolation.

Bonus points for shaking his fist and crying “I defy you heaven!!!1” while his weenie crisps up like the last polish hot dog to be served at a ball game.

Perhaps this moment is only second to the image of a naked, crisped up Lestat flying wang back to David for almost 6000 miles

Google maps recommends this route, but I suppose we must be left to imagine our own - thank God Lestat gets to skip toll roads on the way home

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what gets me the most about this entire scene is how easily it is for louis to accommodate lestat in his arms. like lestat is literally dancing and jumping around and louis knows exactly where to put his hands to guide him,,,, they've definitely danced together in their bedroom

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Armand lived in Venice during the absolute sluttiest period for mens’ clothes and I gotta talk about it.

Anne constantly used Botticelli as a reference for clothes (who was at his peak in the 1470s/1480s) but Armand was in Florence when Savonarola died, which puts him in Venice the late 1490′s. Fashion was moving fast, there was a big moral panic over society falling apart and becoming too secular, and in Venice it was time to let your inner ho out.

The look: Short. Tight. Made of as many expensive scraps as possible.

Let’s get into it.

Keep reading

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Maybe it’s just because my gay ass goes bug nuts for a strong nose, but I’ve always head cannoned that Pandora has typically Roman features and it plays a heavy hand into why Marius is so initially attracted to her. He mentions his own Gaelic mother and how he takes after her and since he fetishizes Rome so goddamn hard his whole life, I can’t help but think it’s something he would be drawn to.

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It’s rare that he gets to see Daniel’s first meal of the day. He’s picked through his memories, he knows that on the Night Island he tends to wake in the afternoon, stumble down to the kitchen to graze. Daniel takes advantage of the ability to call their private chefs in to make him bacon, eggs. Food that sits heavy on his stomach so that he has to wander back to bed to sleep off the rest of the day. After that it doesn’t much matter, Daniel thinks. He’ll get Armand’s blood and that’s enough to hold him over. A cycle of snacking and blood sharing that repeats and repeats and repeats.

“LIsten, we need to make a pact,” Daniel mumbles between bites. “No more west-bound long haul flights. At least not without a couple days between each layover.”

Armand frowns. “Was it so burdensome to fly without me beside you?” 

It had been odd, departing in the evening in the cargo hold, trapped within the box that contained his coffin. Moving backwards through time. To leave in the dark but arrive in the middle of the morning- it creates a certain kind of inertia, he finds. 

Perhaps it’s what they mean when they say ‘jet lagged’. All of that effort to only be in a place for a week and then they’ll be moving on. Tickets to Thailand, to Nepal, to Greece. They wait in Daniel’s bag. More travel, pre-planned, predestined. A time limit on every stop. Armand wonders how exhausted they’ll both be by the end. 

Daniel spears a vegetable on his fork. He shrugs. “I don’t like it. Being without you.”

Without the blood.

This too, Armand recognizes from his youth. The ravenous fits that come between the tastes of blood. He remembers clearly being sixteen and not eating for days after the drinks his master had given him, and then falling upon the table and out eating all of the other boys.

There’s hollows beneath Daniel’s eyes. A sharpness to his cheekbones that hadn’t been there when they’d met, and perhaps that’s a sign of the march of time- he is, after all, creeping up on thirty now; no longer the wide eyed boy Armand had met but a man in his own right. But then-

His spoon clacks against the glass parfait cup. Daniel digs in straight to the bottom where the ice cream is, bypassing the fruit and whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Somewhere near his lap comes the sound of his insides churning. The wet sound of his stomach straining to accommodate that which he hasn’t consumed in- days? Weeks, perhaps. Armand can’t keep track.

He should be doing better than this. He ought to be taking better care of him but Daniel makes it so hard. The world makes it hard, with how anything and everything can catch his fascination. Like right now.

Something bubbles beneath the surface of him. A desire he can’t quite put a name to, a thread he’ll have to pull at until Daniel unwinds and he understands what it is that he seeks. Some unfinished business from the Copley, perhaps. The meal wherein he’d fed Daniel a bit of everything, only to depart before he could see the effect it had upon him.

There’s so much more he understands about Daniel now. And still so much to find out. He’ll never know him intimately enough.

Armand rests his chin on his hand. He takes in the way Daniel’s tongue sticks out the slightest bit when the spoon nears his mouth, the bob of his adam’s apple when he swallows. Daniel licks an errant blob of whipped cream from his upper lip and it leaves his mouth glossy with his saliva.

[AO3]

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Interview with the Vampire - Faceless (x)

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blablabla minors get out

for the second day of the @deromanuscoven Spring Event I wrote a little Venice Era PWP fic based off the little satyr, god of the woods prompt!!! You can check it here! ❤️💙

He pushes his hand against Amadeo's cheeks and caresses his hair. He studies each of his eyelashes and every single hair on his brow. He curls an auburn lock around a finger and lets it fall against his pristine, glossy white face. His child in the Blood… Blood of his Blood, body of his body. His lover, his child, his son, his fledgling — his Amadeo.

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Getting into tvc has been finding out the kinky gothic horror-romance that's queer but doesn't ask you to give it a pat on the head or market itself as Representation (TM) has existed all along but also realizing there's almost nothing else like it now that I'm finished

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Armand x Daniel (a commission process) I like Daniel tv but I love Daniel from the book. This is a crossover of Armand from the book with Daniel from TV. I'm loving the result :)

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Everybody wants Armand

I know I’ve talked about it before, but the way Khayman shows up in the midst of one of the most chaotic and tense scenes in the whole book and then just immediately starts to THIRST after Armand is pure gold.

My man has spent the last few centuries in the dirt and he is ready to get Dicked Down

“Gee, Daniel sure is lucky to have that cutie pie by his side. Wish I were that lucky! 🤭🤭”

“We’re like, sooooooo similar!”

“He’s sooo much cooler than Mael 🙄”

Meanwhile, back on planet earth, poor Mael is sweating mother fucking BULLETS about the shit show that’s supposed to go down. What I love so much about this part is that, even after Khayman realizes Jesse is his great-granddaughter and gives his vow of help to Mael, he still fucks right off.

Khayman JESSE IS IN tHE LOBBY WITH A BROKEN NECK????? YOU TOLD MAEL YOU WOULD HELP THEM!

Twink thirst is destroying his life!

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Oh babe….

There’s many reasons why I love this Crusty Old Man but at the top of the list is probably the fact that he is so Not Self Aware it cracks me up.

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snake……… on………… meeeee………… (snake on me)

snake…… meeeee…….. OOOOOOON (SNAKE ON ME)

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someone in the anne rice vampire chronicles fandom: there better not be any fucking anne rice in here.

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Lestat, having eaten spaghetti sauce while in a living body, is one of the only main Vampire Chronicles characters who has eaten a tomato