Tag Archives: lestat muse

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obsessional-ram:

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tasty fans i don’t know that sounds like a good catchphrase

oh and heres a colored version of lestat

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again, am i kicked out of the fandom yet

♛ You’ll have to try MUCH HARDER to be kicked out the fandom now that we are aware of your artistic skill. You’re a gift to us. So sayeth Uncle Lestan.

PS. I approve of this “Tasty fans” catchphrase, yes, good. 

PPS. If you are about to accuse moi of taking up too much space avec my autograph, I say this: she asked for it One must adequately mark one’s property or it may be stolen. It’s happened too many damned times. ARMAND I’M LOOKING AT U I SWEAR TO GOD HAD I TATTOOED MY NAME ACROSS LOUIS’ CHEST BEFORE I TURNED HIM…

Happy Father’s Day! In two ways I guess. Thank you for everything in my mortal life, and my immortal one.

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nodominion:

i-want-my-iwtv:

♛ You wonderful creature, you’ve always deserved it all and more, mon bijou *embraces and showers her with kisses* 

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High pitched giggles escaped her as Lestat showered her with kisses. They felt different than the kisses of her youth, and she knew now that he no longer had to restrain his immortal strength around her. “You are too much Lestat. How are you? Well I hope?”

♛ “Better now that I’m with you.” He nuzzled her nose with his, the way he’d done when she was a child. “Are you real? Or just my daydream?” It was a silly old game, but how she had loved it long ago, improvising with such an idea, sometimes proudly claiming fairy lineage.

How different to hear her voice now, the laughter richer than in her youth, still retaining the same charming cadence. Sharpened with the blood. Her delighted facial expression raised the wisp of an image of her little girl face. It was too much, and not enough, so he lifted her up into his arms and twirled her in the air once, twice, with his face buried in her lush mane to conceal the tearing up. Her scent was mostly the same, berry-filled deserts

freshly baked, let to cool on a sill. 

When he set her down again, he felt of her arms, her shoulders, flesh of my flesh. Strong she was. A fierceness in her eyes now that was not childlike at all. Challenging. She had not yet demonstrated her strength for him, and he was eager to see it. 

Happy Father’s Day! In two ways I guess. Thank you for everything in my mortal life, and my immortal one.

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♛ You wonderful creature, you’ve always deserved it all and more, mon bijou *embraces and showers her with kisses* 

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Does anyone call you by any cute nicknames?

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nodominion:

nodominion-deactivated20151126:

I suppose it’s hard to nickname someone when they only have a one syllable name. And I hate when people try and give me flower nicknames. Never, ever, try and do that. I am not your little ‘rosebud’ who is ready to be ‘plucked’. Ugh, even mentioning it makes me sick.

Beej calls me doll. Bianca calls me her star. Antoine calls me dove. I’m not really sure what I’ve done to deserve these, but I’ll take them.

What about you Lestat? Do you have any nicknames for me?

Oh, and Daniel calls me Chickpea.

♛Well, a nickname isn’t always a shortening of one’s name… although I’m often called ‘Stat, which I find very amusing, as it’s also the abbreviation for statim, Latin for “immediately”, used in the medical field (have I been in hospitals and heard this called out, and thought it was someone trying to get my attention? Hmmmm? Maybe!), but I digress, this is about you, darling ❤

I hadn’t heard those nicknames for you! Daniel’s very good, I’m changing your name in my phone to Chickpea. Too cute not to.

I don’t think I ever called you by any floral nicknames, but I completely agree with your reasons for detesting them. I don’t like being called Blondie, which Armand does to irritate me, and it raises my ire without fail EVERY TIME HE DOES IT. 

When you were a little girl, I called you variations on précieux and mon bijou, do you remember? 

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romanchronicles:

Andi let go of the bottle of Absolut and brought up the highball glass, positioning it on the cherry counter while absentmindedly searching for the Belvedere. “Great, I have a stalker- that’s something to write home to mother about.” She said the last part sarcastically, as she took the bottle of Belvedere from its perch on the mirror backed wall behind the bar counter.

“How am I interesting to you that you would consider to trail me? The single greatest experience I’ve had is meeting Keith Moon…” not bothering to finish her sentence, she bent down to open the refrigerator, and pulled out the orange juice. “…but he’s a Courvoisier man. He saves the orange juice for Jimmy Page.”

♛

“Aren’t you at least a little bit flattered?” Lestat smirked up at her. “This is my city, you know, it can only handle so many of us… ” He idly traced a pattern on the wet counter, reminded of another life when the slender fingers of brooding young man, face cast in shadow, drew Paris in such a manner.

“I had to decide whether to let you stay. You’ve done well, clearing the city of a few more bad apples that I hadn’t yet found.” He clasped his hands, leaning forward.

“Keith Moon… Jimmy Page…” he let out a ragged sigh. “If only I’d have ‘woken up’ sooner I might have met them myself. I must admit, I’m somewhat jealous that you did.”  

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romanchronicles:

i-want-my-iwtv:

♛ “I’ll have a Screwdriver, Miss Andi-Lee.” Lestat asked the vampire behind the bar, when she finally noticed him. He had plucked her name from her mind, but had not perused further. Marius must have found something very unique about this one to have turned her, that much he had also discerned, but why did she seem to emanate the loneliness of being completely on her own in the world now? It was intriguing and Lestat was curious, his chin on his hand as he gazed up at her with more than a little childlike amusement at her startled expression.

‘Did he seriously call me Andi-Lee? How the hell does he know my name,’ Andi questioned herself internally. She slowly reached down and grasped a bottle of Absolut vodka and a highball glass. “What kind of vodka do you want in that?”

She cursed her luck, seeing his hair, wishing that her friend would have left hers that almost white-blonde color that this immortal was rocking. What was he doing in a place like this? It’s not like anyone was selling chemically enhanced baking soda in the back room. She’d killed the last supplier two weeks ago.

♛ Oh, she was precious! How easily flustered and colorful… a tropical bird. He could feel the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind, but gave her the space to choose which line of questioning to pursue. Her polite envy of his hair wasn’t lost on him, however, and he gave it a little playful toss. 

So lost in these thoughts, he’d left her question unanswered too long!

“Belvedere would be fine, actually." Lestat wouldn’t drink this, but it had a hint of vanilla, which, when mixed with the citrus, was pleasant to smell before he might hand it away to a deserving patron.

"You’re wondering why I’m here. I followed you.” This was true; he had seen her about, was she a vampiric actress? The choice of clothes and hairstyle were not a costume but appeared to be her nostalgia for the time in when she’d been alive, a time he’d cursed himself for missing when he had been healing his wounds underground.

Willow had climbed the closest tree after dodging the massive hound nipping at her heels. Unfortunately, climbing the tree hadn’t been quick enough. The mutt had snapped onto her back leg and had only let go when he’d gotten a face full of claws and teeth. Climbing higher, she soon realized she knew the individual inside the house. Her little heart skipped a beat. “Lestat!” She let out a long yowl, hoping to get his attention.

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♛Lestat was contentedly supine on the couch when the barking outside increased. Ordinarily he’d just crank the volume on his music, but as he considered doing so, he caught the desperate plea, clearly from one of Louis’ cherished pets. He could sense the sharp pain the poor animal was experiencing, and leapt to his feet, scattering magazines.  

Flying out the door, he found a troubling scene: an enormous and slobbering beast still snapping for Willow! The monster had her fresh blood and tufts of fur on his quivering jowls. Lestat didn’t believe in animal cruelty… but this creature was sorely testing his resolve. 

He doesn’t seem like a friend of yours. Death penalty, Willow? Lestat asked her silently, the frightened look in her wide eyes burning him up inside.

Let’s play 5 questions…

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♛Lestat laces his fingers together, stretches his arms out forward, and hunkers down with his laptop beside Louis on a small loveseat, purposely squeezing their bodies tightly together as he does so, in order to respond to paint-it-livid’s questions (thank u!)

“Louis my love, help me answer these questions, for I do so value your perspective.” 

1 – What was the last song you listened to?

Lestat says: “Peter Gabriel – My Body is a Cage”

“This is a positively haunting cover of an Arcade Fire song, and when I first heard it, it brought me immediately to tears. So I played it for Louis just now, and… nothing. No reaction! He must prefer the original version because it’s an excellent song and he should have reacted appropriately.” Lestat huffs, glances at Louis, they silently debate for some long moments whether to play the song again. Louis rolls his eyes and the song is not played again.

2 – What’s getting on your nerves right now?

Pondering this, Lestat flicks a fang. So many minor things. “Louis keeps making stacks of books and periodicals and it’s like walking around a little doll set of skyscrapers, he’s forcing me to nag him about picking up after himself.”

Louis adds: “Well, half of those stacks are actually your piano and guitar chord books, which you piled up, dearest.”

“Touché.”  

3 – Most visited website?

“This is an easy one. Youtube. I can be satisfied with hours of music, and see musicals and other performances we might otherwise not be able to attend, so many travel videos during sunlight to enjoy…” Lestat trails off, a wistful look in his eye. 

Louis adds: “Those are good, we do spend alot of time on that site. He also loves tutorials. Particularly the fashion and

makeup variety. And he tests the techniques on me, when I’m in the mood for it.” 

“Especially the Guyliner, Louis!” Lestat elbows him, attempting to impress Louis with the slang.

“Yes, calm down, I’m aware of the term.”

4 – Do you believe in love at first sight?

They exchange a glance. “Bien sûr!” Lestat said, quite sure of himself. 

Louis adds: “I never believed in it before meeting Lestat, and even then, I was so out of… not myself… that I wasn’t sure then if it was love I felt for him or just a simple desire to hold and keep him with me, for as long as possible.”

“Is that not love, my love?” 

“I was under duress at the time.”

“Was some of that duress my charming self, my love?”

Louis sighs softly, a smile growing across his face. “I suppose it qualifies.”

Lestat smirks, more than a little triumphantly. 

5 – Which is better: hugs or kisses?

“Oh, they both have their benefits, to be sure,” Lestat considers, snaking his arm around Louis and giving him a gentle squeeze. “They’re different forms of intimacy… hugs are more for greeting and departure…would snuggling count as a form of hugging? Because I definitely require that.”

“Snuggling is… probably considered hugging, it’s bodies held together, no?”

“Oui, that it is, very scientific of you, Dr. de Pointe du Lac.” Lestat teases, assuming a stern expression and tone before breaking into a smile. 

“But kissing has a language of its own, it’s about appreciation, reverence, a deeper connection…” Lestat eyes Louis’ lips as he speaks, growing more than a little interested. 

“Kissing need not only be on the mouth, you know,” Lestat says, before making a trail of light kisses starting at Louis’ ear, tracing down the jawline. Louis twists, offering more access.

Louis smiles coquettishly at Lestat, pulling him closer: “Hugs or kisses? But why not both?