#sangcreole

[sonataforsybelle]

@sangcreole sent : 💅  to  paint  my  muse's  nails.

She'd bought the nail varnish on a whim during a night out with Louis, attracted by the colors and ending up getting a whole rainbow. As a young girl and then when older, she'd never been allowed to paint her nails. Her intense piano playing inevitably would chip the paint off and look bad for performances. Besides, her nails had to be kept short at all time so they would not click on the keys -- which was why now she had to diligently file her claws every single night. The paint surely wouldn't last long and chip away in a few hours, but did it matter really if it was fun ?

Later, at home, Louis found her focused, lining up the colors into a gradient and smiling to herself. But how about actually using them, he suggested, before she smiled and let him take her hands with delicate gestures.

"You can choose the color."

A man of more sober taste, Louis chose an opalescent baby blue, slightly transparent which matched her coloring and her dress. Sybelle never said, but she loved feeling pampered and taken care of. Sometimes, happiness was like getting your nails done by your dad in the living room with a fire inside the hearth and an old record playing some Tchaikovsky. It was healing something inside her, to be able to indulge in this way. She admired the meticulous work once he had finished, afraid to move for it wasn't dry yet.

"I want to do yours too." she beamed at him, taking in his coloring. Her dark forest green would look wonderful on Louis, or maybe something warmer...

[lioncoeurts]

The spirit of the Sacred Core, Lestat had found, harboured a great and lasting voracity. The alarming thirst for the lives of innocents that he had not felt since those first exhaustive weeks on the cobbled Parisian boulevards, when the newborn fledgling hunger was torment and pleasure indiscriminate, and his satiety rarely found. The same appetite that had been infused into the Divine Pair, to be bequeathed through generations and all too lonely centuries.

And Amel, Amel who whispered to him often --a private and vital interloper of the mind--, had spoken of such hunger. A hunger, too, to understand; to view Lestat through another's eyes. To know all there was to know. Better still, to gaze upon the Prince's beloved.

Lestat, restrained in his fury, had stilled by the door to the chateau's reading room; The oft-frequented place of quiet and solitude for his companion, when the castle's affairs had grown too tiring. You will not bring any harm to Louis, spirit. I'd have you gone!

As the door is nudged open, a warm secretive peal of laughter echoes in response. He's greeted by the comforting sight of the familiar modest figure of dark silken hair and old worn wool, a well-read publication propped up in gaunt pale hands. And Lestat's gaze drifts clandestinely to meet Louis', with little needed to be said at all.

'No. No harm. You love him more than I have seen anyone be loved.'

random thing for @sangcreole??

[bledbetrayl]

@sangcreole asked: 🔁 👉 👈

would it always be like this between them , the back and forth of something that no longer felt like a relationship ? he missed his louis , the one that would climb into his coffin while the sun rose and held him. he missed the moments of peace and happiness , where it was simply. lestat and louis. no one else.

" and now i'm the stupid one le regretter." the blond could feel the build up of blood in the corner of his eyes. a step closer like a cat cautious to approach, heckles rising if they could. " je sais que je suis le stupide " he's reaching out slowly , the traces of fingertips against the fabric of louis' clothes. wishing it was easier to just grab him and hold him.

[auburnandamberangel]

"i didn't mean to make you upset, you know."

"i take it back, i'm sorry"- reactions to making someone cry:

How often had he heard words to that affect from all of his loved ones, at one point or another. And yet with each evoking of emotions, it still felt fresh. Like the first cut in a way to his heart, not as naive as it once was but still hope sprung eternal that the storms would be weathered this time and Armand wouldn't be a castaway once more from his own idyll. He consciously didn't dab at his eyes, though a tear had already paved its way down his cheek to signal itself. Louis would be able to smell it anyway. "No, my love. Ofcourse not." Not so much putting on a brave face, but slipping on one of his comfortable masks.

[violeteyedvampiremolloy]

send 🎈 for our muses to go to a halloween party together (just because I’m cackling at the idea of Daniel dragging Louis out for a party LOL)

Daniel was glad Louis had agreed to come to this halloween party with him, the fact it was in a pallatial old bookshop, certainly helped oil the wheels of good nature in the older vampire. He'd made quite some effort with his costume tonight, dressed as the mad hatter. His own twist on Johnny Depps portrayal. "Thanks for humouring me Louis, I know this isn't your scene usually."

[thevamplelio]

“Sometimes you frighten me so badly I hurl sticks and stones at you. It’s foolish. I’m glad to see you, though I dread admitting it…I can’t bear the thought of existence now without you! You infuriate me! Why don’t you laugh at me? You’ve done it before.” - Louis de Pointe du Lac, Tale of The Body Thief by Anne Rice

Louis x Lestat: @sangcreole.

[perladivenezia]

❛    i wonder why we always meet on the edge of things.  ❜  

"No one wants to fall off a cliff alone," She answered absentmindedly, her gaze on the door that closed at the other side of the room. She turned to Louis and gave him a quick, halfhearted smile as if trying to reassure him she was only jesting but could not quite convince herself either.

Across the room at the other side of the closed door sat the council. Armand was there as well as Marius and Pandora and they will likely disagree on something tonight as they disagree on everything almost every time they sat down for council duties. Lestat was there too, of course. Yet Louis was here, at her side.

"Won't you be joining them tonight?"

[devilsfool]

Joyeux anniversaire, mon coeur.

Another year. I've been so well behaved, too.

[altarcup]

﹙   ＊   ﹚      &*  @sangcreole

    ❛❛  𝖆𝖑𝖑 ᵗʰᵃᵗ i've done, i've 𝙳𝙾𝙽𝙴 for 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡.  ❜❜

[sonataforsybelle]

@sangcreole asked : “   just  listen  to  my  heartbeat ,   okay ??   ”

Sybelle had been feeling on edge lately for a reason she ignored. A vague feeling of sickness to her stomach was never really leaving her alone and she'd been staring off into space more frequently, but she'd been mostly ignoring it. This night, however, had started off with another nightmare featuring her main terror, long-dead Fox. Flashes of memories kept intruding as she tried to play another sonata -- nothing sounded right, nothing seemed to soothe her.

It was not unusual for Sybelle to have a bad night where everything she played sounded wrong, too unlike what she was hearing inside her head as she obsessively tried to recreate an imaginary composition. When she had been human, she would have screaming meltdowns about it, but this hadn't happened again after her introduction into the Blood -- she was usually able to put the particular piece aside and take it easy for a while. Tonight, she banged on the keys one last time before she burst into tears, defeated. She was sitting at the foot of her piano and sobbing when Louis found her, completely unable to articulate what was going on. She almost pushed him away at first in her state, not recognizing him immediately. His voice settled that as he held her trembling form against him.

“   just  listen  to  my  heartbeat ,   okay ??   ”

She curled up against Louis, made herself small as he held her and she tried to focus on the sound of his heart.

"Fox, he'd hit Benji too, because of me," she blurted out between sobs. "I didn't remember at the time."

Benji. He was always in her thoughts lately, as she watched him evolve and yet never change. The guilt she'd felt about this child being enslaved to care for her, magnified by him being turned before he was ever grown, it had never gone away.

[lcsthings]

“OH, BUT YOU CAN LEAVE IF YOU TRULY DESIRE IT, MON CHER. But that would be too bold, even for you.” Lestat practically purrs at this statement, all puffed up chest & pristine golden curls, a lion in his prime. Yes, Louis could leave, but they both know that he won’t. Lestat was his lifeline as much as his captor ( which, frankly, Lestat claims the other exaggerates, as always ), & it is far better to spend eternity in the arms of one you hate than alone without.

FOR A BRIEF BUT SWEETLY DELICIOUS MOMENT, Louis is left vulnerable for Lestat to freely stare upon him in all his agonizing, conflicting glory. He may push Lestat’s touch away, but the Brat Prince can see the desire curdling underneath. Oh, merciful death, it’s such an intoxicating sight to see — to witness Louis desperately claw for that control. It made Lestat’s blood boil in a thousand different ways.

AND THEN THE IDIOT SPEAKS.

“PSHAW!” A sound of great frustration bursts from Lestat’s lips, throwing his hand, now burning from Louis' touch, into the air & toward the Heavens. “What need of money when I can simply take it?” It is, of course, a sore subject. He wanted riches; he wanted fame. He wanted love in all measures. He was not a creature who did things in halves. Lips, plumped & lively red from fresh blood, twist into a grimace of displeasure. Why must he be like this always? he thinks, fingers itching at his side. He doesn’t know whether to stroke him or choke him, but either would suit him just fine.

HE IS A BEAST WITH A GOLDEN HALO, pausing to lean over the chair from behind, allowing his fingers to curl around the armrests, for his lips to find his sweet imbecile’s ear. “Come now, Louis. I know what it is you yearn for. Life blood. Sweet nectar of the mortals. Oh, you are always such a downer, but even more so when you hunger. Come out with me tonight. I miss the hunt at your side.” Lestat’s practically ravenous. Yes, yes! Stoke the fire of his ego, his desire. “When we have feasted, you can moan & disparage all you want.”

@sangcreole it wouldn't let me reblog the old thread :C

[bledbetrayl]

@sangcreole asked: "an eternity with you would never satisfy me."

he can't fight away the smile , or the eagerness as lestat pressed kisses to louis' cheeks. over and over. caught in a rare good mood , even if the words had been meant as negative ( personally ; he could not see any world in which that was true ) the fact that it came from LOUIS. was fluttering his heart , filling the blond vampire with more happiness and love than lestat knew what to handle.

so , it was all being dropped into affections for louis.

HIS LOUIS. his mon cher , most beloved. the owner of his heart , soul and body. fingers brushed through hair , curling the ends around his fingers. lips trailed from louis' cheek to his lips. pressing an array of dotted kisses. slight tug to the hair. " eternity ? we have always. that's longer than an eternity. "

was his words right ? possibly not. most definitely not. but that did not matter , the meaning of his words was there , and the ever-loving affections he was raining over his louis. was too obvious. but he had never been big on subtle.

" maybe you should say it again ," he begins another small tug on louis' hair. even having all his attention , he wanted more. needed more , needed everything , every little part of louis to fall upon him. " remind me of what more than an eternity of us would look like. "

[auburnandamberangel]

[frightesa]

@sangcreole sent  🎤  for a lyric starter  ► look whose inside again by bo burnham

lydia picked at the edges of her nails. nervousness seems to wash off her. she had a difficult time finding the right words, a big exhale. "when you're a kid and you're stuck in your room, you'll do any old shit to get out of it." although in retrospect. " try making faces." she tilted her head, tongue outstretched as if she were playing dead. eyes are rolled back in her head. before a grin spread over her features. "try telling jokes, making little sounds." she shrugged a little bit before looking up. perhaps she was asking if that was universal. she shrugged again. "then we grow older and all of those bits go away. we don't know how to find them again."

[lioncoeurts]

"Of course I am grateful to have you. Who else would bombard me with fine clothes and ceaselessly disrupt my reading?" A glint of mirth shimmers in his eyes, before a soft flicker of sobering melancholy. "I've spent too much of my life missing you. I am thankful, now, for every moment."

Tell my muse/s, anonymously or not, why you are thankful to have them in their lives and see how they react.

How it had practically pained Lestat to forbid himself the elation of letting his tears fall, to smear and stain his cheeks, already beautifully ruddied in the old mortal way by the glut of the evening's hunt, skin flushed with the dying heat of their recently spent passion.

Stirred by such a poignant confession that was almost too powerful to contemplate, his gaze is misty, reddened, long fingers curling inadvertently into the silken sleeve of his robe, arms loosely folded around himself there upon the ruined bedcovers, where he sits on his knees like a child. "---Well." A reverent breath leaves him, and with a slight nod of silent understanding, he offers a little smile; a response of found solace, signalling the very sustenance gained simply from Louis' presence, his very being. The other half of his dark and terribly impetuous soul.

[charmantevamp]

@sangcreole continued from x

Audrey has to resist the urge to laugh in his face. Admittedly, Louis was tolerable if not pretty enough to look at, but he could frequently try her patience. At least he was soft spoken enough about it. Though, for a so called philosopher he doesn’t think enough. At least, not by her standards.

“That’s not what I meant, ma chér,” she says, almost like a songbird, but a songbird with the presence of a peacock.

“I meant your church, saints and the pope,” she says still keeping a false air of civility. Green eyes gazing back at his. Despite her small stature, that being 5’2” and her raven black hair and green eyes so like his own, she shall stand her ground. She surely knows no other way.

“I know most certainly rosaries do me no harm, I dare say, Lestat is my Judas, I am somewhere between a Mary Magdalene and a Lilith,” she shrugs. “How is dear golden haired darling Lucifer, or Judas depending on the night, if I might ask?” She adds, partially to spite him.

“Yes, our kind, old indeed, of that I am keenly aware. The one who made me was rather strong in the blood, stronger than dare I say, most deserve to be,” a sad sigh, she will not show weakness to this martyr, certainly not yet.

“As old as Cain, and old Egypt so I’ve heard, what have you heard, oh merciful one?” She drags out the last statement with much sarcasm.