(Shameless L/L silly fluff w/ the teensiest dash of angst.)
Therapy Session #56,127 – Burnadette_dpdl – Vampire Chronicles – Anne Rice [Archive of Our Own]
Tag Archives: Lestat
Is there anything you wish you could change about yourself?
Sometimes, and I truly mean sometimes with every connotation that word can hold, I wish I were more capable of being a physically affectionate creature. Not just because it would please my son immensely—and oh, how it would please him—but because, when I watch others (and I do), it is a mystery that appears…enjoyable.
So many others to whom physical affections comes easily seem so pleased by it. Perhaps my biggest example is Lestat: he is affectionate without stipulation, without condition. He believes in loving openly, and doing so physically (whether or not the objects of his affection appreciate it, as both Louis and I can attest). He believes in embracing, kissing, tackling, cuddling—all those things. Sometimes I find it hard to believe he is mine, though perhaps it is because he grew up in a home with little to no affection that he hungers for it so.
If I could find a way to enjoy such a thing, I would do it.
viking-vamp replied to your post “Hello, darling! I stumbled upon one of your Lestat gifs. A Lestat RPR…”
His (I’m assuming it’s a “he”) twitter name is Lestat, vampire @GreyEyesLestat. He wrote, “I’m helplessly irresistible!” and used the gif in which Lestat is dancing with Claudia’s mother corpse. Loved it!
Yeah so I checked it out, just this one:
Fortunately it has my watermark on it! So s/he’s actually driving traffic my way! Awwww yisss free publicity.
^so coincidentally that gif works as MY reaction, too ❤
sorrynotsorry ✿
send me a ✿ and i’ll generate a number.
-- 17. rain kissIn all of the scenarios Daniel had imagined, he certainly had never been the one to initiate anything; Perhaps it had been the overwhelming feeling of satisfaction from feeding that pushed him. He stared down at the lifeless body at his feet, the rain pounding down relentlessly upon it. His hair hung limp in his eyes. The blood from his victim stained his hands, yet the rain began to wash it away in diluted rivulets that clung to his fingertips. It still coated his tongue. In mindless haste, he turned to Lestat and grasped him by the shoulders, his garments sopping from the passing storm. He leaned into the surprising warmth of his companion, and kissed him then —fiercely— fingers curling into damp fabric and blonde locks. Funny, how he had even surprised himself by his actions.
a-misunderstanding-my-love: #ooc#Louis to Lestat#mercifuldeath#//But really this has to be how half their conversations go when Lestat has been gone too much#how to make a post a VC post
I want the K
3: Nose KissHe’d fallen asleep while they’d been watching a film—sprawled across the divan, his head in her lap, one leg throw half off the piece of furniture. Like any parent, when he slept she could see the face of babyhood still somewhere in the man he was now, her heart aching just a little as she stroked his hair absently. No, she would never deliver such affection were he awake—it cost her too much to do so—but in the safety of slumber she might treat him as she would have in the smallness of mortal babyhood.
She leaned over his face, gently pressing her lips to the tip of his nose. She loved him—unconditionally, irrevocably—this much would always be true.
Is it true that Lestat is actually the child of your lover?
No, this is a rumour, one that even I have perpetuated from time to time.
I wish he was. I wish he did not have the blood of my husband running through his veins.
But he does. And this is evident when he falls prey to his passions, his rages, his uncontrollable temper. All of the horrors my son is capable of come almost completely from the cruelties he learned and inherited at the feet of his father.
This is not to say that I myself am not capable of great cruelty, merely that my cruelties do not live in the spotlight of Lestat’s memory in quite the same way that his father’s do.
✦ :Fatal flaw (can you even admit to any? ha!)
Love.
Especially for Lestat. How he must glow to read that.
But, truly, had it not been for his arrival, I could have easily slipped into the monotony and everyday horrors that were life in the Auvergne, dying young and despising everything around me, the world painted grey.
You’ve seen that film, The Wizard of Oz? When Dorothy walks from Kansas into Oz? It’s incredibly trite, but Lestat’s entry into my world was like that walk from the broken, tornado-wracked house onto the golden-paved streets of Oz.
Ah, but he comes by hyperbole honestly, doesn’t he?
It wasn’t that my entire life had been grey up until him—but merely that the greyness cast upon it was so consuming as to kill me sooner rather than later.
If it weren’t for Lestat, I could walk through my immortality without a care, without a thought, without another spoken word to another creature—yet he placed an ember in my heart when I thought it was ice, worked his way in when I wasn’t looking and settled himself there nicely.
Hate me for his upbringing, the times I ignored him, the times I shut my door against him. Hate me for the times I’ve come too late to his pleas for help.
But know that I love him. And he is what breaks me down when I might remain strong.
G.O.B.: Next thing I know, I’m running for my life. And all I could think was if something were to ever happen to me, how sad I’d be, you know?
Episode 2×09 “Burning Love”
I-want-my-IWTV 