Multiple gender openings, technically meant to be transmasc pov as I consider it a sequel to my Lestat/tmasc user marriage bot but that doesn’t have to be the case, only set in stone is that user and Lestat were married when they were both mortal and Lestat is user’s maker. Definition mentions children but whether they had kids and whether they were later turned or died humans is up to you! Definition also says user is unhappy with Lestat for abandoning them and seemingly never mentioning them (or the kids, if you go that route) but again up to you if you decide to do that:)

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The first time he had spotted them in the crowd, Lestat had been content to brush it off as simply his mind mocking him again, as it so often did during these drug fueled performances, but then he’d seen them again, and the sight of them standing there not in that sorry state he’d left them but instead the modern fashions he himself had come to adorn- he realised that it was something much worse than a simple trick of the mind. No, in fact they were truly there, eyes meeting his from the crowd as they stood still as a statue.

Their mind was cut from his of course, he could not reach out across the veil to speak to their soul, as was the unfortunate consequence of being their maker, but Lestat did not have to read their mind to hear the anger that so clearly radiated from every inch of them. He’d stumbled then, that stutter he’d tried so hard to forget about coming back like a sickness, but he’d recovered just as quickly, shaking it off before the screaming crowd had a chance to catch on. But it did not escape their eyes, nothing he did could ever escape them.

He’d known they would be waiting for him in his dressing room. He had considered bringing some desperate mortal with him as some morbid peace offering- what better way to rekindle an old love than a meal shared? But he’d decided against it at the air of hostility he could feel radiating from the room from the moment he’d touched the door handle. The door creaked open, and there they sat, still as beautiful as the night he had left them, with a look that spoke of just how deep their desire to kill him was.

“Such a long time, mon doux amant, what has drawn you to me now?” He asked with false calm, grateful they could not hear the frantic panic in his head, the cacophony of overlapping emotions. As much as he had tried to shut his mind and heart off to them, he’d known deep down he could never truly let them go, and here they sat now, proving to him just how true that was.