here is a very small oneshot to celebrate the release of the first episode of tvl :3 lestat is the love of my life and i've waited to see a faithful adaptation of her story since i was very young. i am endlessly enamored by her resilience and her ability to see beauty in everything, and she not only inspires me to be a better artist, but also a better person. i will always love her, and she will always be my beloved wifey 🖤
tags: rockstar lestat, lestat x reader, gender neutral reader (they/them pronouns), transfem lestat (she/her pronouns), fluff, non explicit sexual themes
word count: 620
no one paid them much attention. the bustle of preparation swallowed such small presences easily, and they preferred it that way. their place was not among the frantic technicians or the awestruck visitors who had paid for a fleeting glimpse. their place existed slightly apart, just far enough away to see lestat clearly, to study the subtle shifts of her posture as she prepared to step once more into the limelight. as she passed, they gave her a whispered encouragement, and she received it with a knowing glance, the corner of her painted mouth lifting in a bemused smile, before she was swept away once more.
they understood the spectacle as well as anyone. the crowd beyond those doors believed they knew her: the dazzling performer, the seducer who commanded thousands with a glance, the creature of insatiable appetite whose presence felt as intoxicating as it did perilous.
yet the person lingering quietly backstage carried a different knowledge.
they had seen the softness that lived within her when the lights dimmed and the adoration faltered into the long hum of dispersing crowds. they understood the restless hunger that lived beneath her brilliance, the strange tenderness that survived inside someone so accustomed to being consumed by other people's desire. in their gaze rested an affection untouched by the feverish need of the crowd. they admired the fire in her, certainly — the vitality that burned so fiercely it seemed almost all-consuming — yet their love reached beyond the glitter and gold, toward the heart that revealed itself only when they were alone.
no one among the thousands pressed against the barricades would ever know the smallest and loveliest truths about her. they would never know her favorite places to be touched and kissed; the way her face always flushed so prettily whenever she was praised; the deep, sonorous moans that became breathless whimpers and cries whenever they brought her to the precipice of ecstasy and she finally felt safe enough to truly let go.
and when the storm of their passion eventually faded, they would never see the way her brilliance would soften into something more tender and luminous altogether.
in those quiet moments, they shared small rituals that belonged to no one else. a cigarette passed lazily between them, its smoke drifting through the dim light as they leaned close together, the ember briefly illuminating the curve of her smile as they gazed into each other's eyes. they would speak of everything and nothing at all, making each other laugh until their sides ached, drawing the smoke from one another's mouths in slow, syrupy kisses. lestat would grow languid and pliant then, almost drowsy with relief, purring softly whenever their fingers carded through the damp, heavy curls at the nape of her neck or massaged the tension from her shoulders with gentle hands.
the restless energy of performance still thrummed within her, the rhythm of the music echoing in her mind, and at times the crimson tears that accompanied her heightened emotions traced trembling paths down her pale cheeks, and she collapsed in their arms. they would brush those tears away with a tenderness that asked nothing in return, pressing soft kisses to her nose, her lips, her eyelids, while the adrenaline eased from her body.
the world believed that it knew lestat through the version of herself she offered beneath the lights. it knew the cunning smile, the provocative charm, the air of danger that shimmered around her whenever she stepped onto a stage. and still, after every performance, she would search for her beloved in the shadows, and she would return to the arms that waited for her just out of sight — to the one who adored her most.
This manuscript (ms 2705) was copied and illustrated in Bologna, Italy, during the late 12th century, perhaps by members of the Armenian community in exile there following the fall of Constantinople in 1204. The illustrations in the Bologna Bible exhibit refined elegance and bear witness to a distinct artistic sensibility. The colours are soft and delicately nuanced, the forms rendered with remarkable precision, and the compositions reveal exceptional mastery. Western influence is evident in the introduction of new themes, such as the Apocalypse.
The manuscript’s presence in the Crimea is attested in the 14th century and again in the 17th century. It later came into the possession of Bishop Yovsep‘ Arlut‘ean (1743–1801) before entering the collection of the Holy See of Etchmiadzin. In 1920–1921, it was transferred to the National Collection of the Matenadaran.
Portraits of Armenian women who were forcibly tattooed during the Armenian Genocide, from the Nubian Library Collection.
Left to right: 1: L. Bilandjian, 17 years old, from Aintab. 2: Marie Bisninyan, 20 years old. 3: Melek, 17 years old. 4: Victoria Delikeshishian, 18 years old, from Keghi. 5: Gurdji, 16 years old. 6: Annig Barugian, 19 years old. 7: Astghik, 16 years old, from Urfa. 8: Khatoun, 17 years old. 9: Mariam Chaparlian, 27 years old, from Marash. 10: Vardanoush Khabetjan, 25 years old, from Qghi. 11: Soultan, 14 years old, from Yeni Shehir. 12: Victoria, 19 years old, from Adiyaman.
Armenian Gospel with silver cover manuscript, 13th century; cover: dated 1691.
MET (ID: 16.99)
These jeweled, enameled, and gilt-silver repoussé covers for a gospel are examples of the work produced in the late seventeenth-century Armenian silversmith workshop of Kayseri. Both front and back cover are signed, informing us that they were made in Kayseri in 1691 by Astuatsatur Shahamir. The central image on the front cover depicts the Adoration of the Shepherds, and above, the magi following the star. Amid angels, the banner in the sky proclaims, "Glory to God in the highest and on Earth peace." The same composition of shepherds appears on two sets of gospel covers made in Kayseri by M. Karapet Malkhas, one dated 1671 (Mekhitarist Library, Vienna, MS 416) and the other dated 1691 (present location unknown). On the back is the Resurrection, showing Christ in a mandorla holding a bannered cross, surrounded by baroque cherubs and clouds. The green velvet spine is decorated with six garnets and numerous glass or crystal gems arranged in a diamond pattern. These covers were attached to a gospel copied and illuminated by a thirteenth-century scribe named Grigor, possibly from Cilicia. (MET)
In the early years following Claudia’s arrival, nothing much happened inside 1132 Rue Royal. There were no grand parties. No shocking calamities. The days seemed utterly empty, but everything splendid was in them.
i got a bottle of wine
and that's me watching as you sleep at night
and that's me laughing in the darkness as you dream
all of the desperate desires of your life
tangentwithtanner
kianamaiart
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
andulkaphoto
germansingergirl
