sonataforsybelle

[sonataforsybelle]

chloé winter 2025 by chemena kamali

[sonataforsybelle]

Sybelle does not have Lestat's gift with words ; in fact even now she still has difficulties voicing out her thoughts in an intelligible way once in a while. And so she listens to him quietly.

She understands him completely, however, still bringing music to their talk and even subconsciously matching Lestat's voice with her notes. She loves him, plainly. Every night on this earth in her new form brings new people to love, a family to share eternity with. For the little girl who was so misunderstood, so lonely and unloved, it's healing.

"He's happy I'm here now, Armand," she said, some of her older naivety showing in the soft sound of her voice. "So he sees it now too. He's happier with a family. And I'm a blessed girl that he found me."

Her hands stills as she watches Lestat besides her, as she amuses herself thinking they look about the same age physically. It feels like he embodies what it should mean to be a young man in his 20s, the boldness of it, the hunger for life. She's quite curious to find out how it would translate to her language, not with rock music but on a plain piano with her.

"Would you play a song with me ?"

" Yes, ma chère," The words don't flow silently, but are expressed without restraint. As if Lestat has ever done anything other than give voice to himself freely, an emotional tempest of his own admission.

" ...We do everything to be loved, to be warm in the light of it, and drink it in as if it were the sun itself. The true sustaining force needed to carry us down the very heart of our Devil's Road. If I don't have that to believe in, then I don't think I can believe in anything else. "

He doesn't think of the bleak and barren wilderness he'd seen in Nicolas, or of the cold reserve of his mother that had seen her disappear for years in search of her own solitary autonomy, but of the ones he has come to need most. The immortals who had survived and rebelled and come back together over and over, all for the want of something greater. The old ones and the fledglings alike; Sybelle, in her flowing garments, her flaxen hair soft to the touch as Lestat brushes his fingers through a strand. Virtuous blood, this one, before her birth to Darkness. There's a delicacy in her lovely features, and a similar shrinking fragile beauty to that of Louis. She and Claudia might have been blood kin, if not for the centuries that lay between them.

He understands, plainly, why Armand had resolved to protect her, to let no further harm come to her. He, too, knows of wanting to be good; the young mortal actor, innocent of spirit and ambition, before he'd been stolen away and gifted life eternal.

" There's value in this, too. At least, that's what I've learned. But Armand will tell you not to listen to a word. " Lestat smiles, and the split of his lips widens to reveal the glimmer of fang teeth, and the gaiety in him glimmers in his eyes, so full of life.

[sonataforsybelle]

You know why I love Sybelle?

Because she was left alone with a crispy vampire who just survived a suicide attempt and she immediately starts trauma dumping LMFAO

[sonataforsybelle]

In a way, Sybelle already saw Benji as her little brother, but the imbalance between them was still too obvious, too unjust. Plus that was not Fox's intention and he would make it clear every step of the way. He was not afraid to call the child a slave and throw cruel words at him. He'd started getting jealous of how close they'd grown lately, and more and more unstable. Sybelle always thought he'd never hurt Benji physically, but she wasn't so sure anymore... Memories seemed to be missing, hazy moments when she'd screamed and screamed and couldn't remember why. It ate up at her, sometimes, and she preferred to escape to the safety of her notes and chords than try and find out the truth.

"I'll love being a big sister," she simply said, conjuring up a version of herself in her mind she was almost afraid to dream about, in case she couldn't match to it. Not that different, not normal, no. But a Sybelle who could protect and nurture, too. And what a better older brother she got in Armand, to help her along the way. She'd always need help with daily life things, to not lose time or her bearings, but she could be a good sister to Benji.

After all, it felt like anything was possible after this creature had broken through her window and saved her from the inevitable. Yet a part of her was cautious in case it all vanished still, no matter how many times Armand assured her that he was real.

"Could he go to school ?" she thought aloud, hesitating. "Or keep getting instruction with you... I don't really trust the adults in schools, and children can be mean when you don't fit in."

Her own experience at a regular school before being instructed at home, after all, had been lonely and painful. Benji was a lot more competent than her however, and the isolation at home had her suffer greatly too, so she wasn't sure what was best.

Leaving those thoughts aside, she found her seat back on the bed, cross legged. She watched for Armand's reaction as he changed and felt pleased once she sensed it, fiddling with her own sleeves.

"It fits you," she said with a smile, happy with the simple moment. It reminded her of all her fantasies, younger, of finally having a friend to share small joys with. A friend who'd understand her without always having to over explain herself.

"You can keep it. My first gift."

The start of many, she hoped.

Behind those clear bright eyes was a world of thoughts and impressions Armand could not begin to unravel or understand in their abstract shapes, and yet from sitting near her, laying his head on her breast and hearing the measured beat of a heard, of air filling and leaving her set of lungs, of blood rushing, he understood her perfectly. Such strangeness. Her mind, open between them and honest however periodically confused, consumed, clouded now and again by dark and intruding thoughts from a life that should matter no longer, the shadowy spectres from which could no longer touch her or other wise inflict their harm. Their memory might hurt her, lingering as it did down to the bone, but not their hands nor a fresh flurry of insults and curses. Never again, that.

When she opened up about Benji, he understood that, too. In a way, he shared her feeling not only because he wanted them to share a long, mortal life together free from hardships, but because Armand feared leaning on her, on both or either of them, too heavily. That they should have soiled their hands and pure consciousnesses to rescue him was enough.

“He will be your brother,” Armand said softly. “And so will I. I will take care of you, both of you, and we will be happy.” It sounded a fantastical picture unto a dream, something simple and unachievable to disappear quicker the harder one strove towards it, and yet he knew that it could become truth: they were the proverbial magic that would transform dreams into reality, he was merely the director.

Her self-flagellation started and stopped, the fragmentary introduction to a deep and slippery slope around whose perimeters the flickering shadows hoovered. Armand said nothing; he felt her small chin coming to rest on top of his head and took the gesture as a sign to lay still, to hold her a little tighter, and wait. Words appeared weak tools towards the profound silence overcoming her. Like a vice. Like a black hole nearly tripped into, and catching herself at the last second.

Not until Sybelle moved to get up, did he leave the trusted post. Armand followed her over to the cluttered closet and the textures and colours naturally amazed him; himself had since abandoned the trend of throwing his clothes away after a single wear, of neglecting whole wardrobes-full and leaving them behind when he moved, and replaced the habit with accumulating…stuff. She was clearly the same. Only, the closet itself, he realised, needed to go or otherwise be built out and expanded upon to room her hoard, her dragon’s treasure. The robe Sybelle picked out was no less luxurious and wonderful than the one she wore, weighty, rich, smooth; it felt like slipping out between his fingers when he held it.

Do you need privacy? Polite, mindful question. Incredibly human. Incredibly sweet. Armand smiled. It was almost funny; she had beheld him in his most vulnerable moments from a literal husk of his former self and nursed him every step of the way, her bloodied avenging angel who feasted upon human lives and human bodies, yet she concerned herself whether baring his flesh was a step too far. He loved her all the more for it.

“No.” Modesty had not worries him for a very long time, and even then its nature differed fundamentally from shyness, which never came naturally to him. Bodies were simply bodies, made to do all the things bodies did, to be admired and studied and embraced and tasted. He was no sexless being, but in Sybelle’s presence and in her innate disinterest, for all his love for her and love for her closeness, intimacy took on a completely different tune. It was pleasant, and when he undressed, laying the robe on her bed as he did, Armand felt none of the natural excitement of a young lover, but all the ease of an old friend. The robe draped around him a miraculous Presence, its softness and weight combining unto airy heaviness, a cool caress of fabric that barely felt like fabric.

“I see what you mean, now,” he whispered.

[sonataforsybelle]

ai.love.nails

[sonataforsybelle]

If you insist on behaving like a monster, then I'm going to make you one.

KATIE MCGRATH as LUCY WESTENRA Dracula S01E09 • Four Roses

[sonataforsybelle]

//been a bit absent as my anxiety disorder has returned to kick me in the ass 4 months after stopping ssris but we stay silly team and hopefully I'm feeling ok tonight

[sonataforsybelle]

Can I please just sit on the edge of a crescent moon like once in my life

[sonataforsybelle]

TEXTING STARTERS

Let’s text! feel free to make edits to better suit your muse’s voice/typing style/contact names, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post. 💛

[ text ] are you awake?

[ text ] it’s been three days! why haven’t you been answering your phone?

[ text ] are you ignoring me?

[ text ] can you let me in? I’m out front.

[ text ] are you okay?

[ text ] I miss you.

[ text ] are you at home?

[ text ] did you get home safe?

[ text ] where are you?

[ text ] what did you do?

[ text ] how did you get this number?

[ text ] can we talk?

[ text ] hey, is this [ name/wrong name ]?

[ text ] are you drunk?

[ text ] do you also hear thunder outside?

[ text ] text me when you get home safe.

[ text ] are you in my kitchen??

[ text ] stop lying to me!

[ text ] what the hell happened?

[ text ] why do you only text me at 3am?

[ text ] okay, that’s it. I’m coming over.

[ text ] do you want to come over?

[ text ] stop shutting me out.

[ text ] come over.

[ text ] are you lost?

[ text ] do you want to talk?

[ text ] rough day, huh?

[ text ] can you bring snacks on your way here?

[sonataforsybelle]

chloé fw25 details

[sonataforsybelle]

intertwining fingers is the physical form of merging souls

[sonataforsybelle]

Crocus

[sonataforsybelle]

Le Coeur De Caron Bath Pearls

[sonataforsybelle]

Queens of the Damned, Day 3: Kitten

Sybelle banging out the tunes. Digital piano & cat ear headphones. 🐱

[sonataforsybelle]

Sybelle curled up beneath the covers as soon as he gave assent, cuddling up to Armand. It was early yet, but she would sleep much sooner than Armand considering her youth. Even if he didn't work on her dreams, it would be alright ; his mere presence sufficed in reassuring her at the very least.

"I miss Benji," she said after a little while. It was good that they were gradually more independent from each other, but sometimes both had a bit of trouble being separated for too long ; especially at bedtime, for Sybelle. No one would understand her nightmares better than him, even if she tried not to bring the past up when they were together.

(She didn't need to. He knew.)

This was what she wanted, however : for him to be her little brother, but not her help. "I texted him, though, he's having fun."

He put his book on the nightstand next to him, keeping a hold on Sybelle hand with the other. "Then hop in my dear." Voice gentle, patting the bed with his now free hand. He knew of the nightmares that still bothered her. Memories surfacing no doubt from her life prior to meeting him. "Ofcourse I can." He'd scan her mind and not so much stop the nightmares but mellowed some of it for her. Spell casting with precision. Something he'd wished he could have done for Daniel, but the blood blocked it, too close a connection as with all maker and fledglings.

[sonataforsybelle]

"I'm okay, I just missed you," Sybelle said a happily with a small laugh. She'd taken to Bianca fast, not as skittish as she could have been with new acquaintance. There was just something about her that had made Sybelle feel safe immediately upon meeting her.

"Are you staying for a few nights ?"

She would be really excited to go out and hunt with Bianca, or do fun things in the city.

"Come here, I want a hug."

"Why ofcourse." Opening her arms for the younger immortal, her sibling in the blood through Marius. And through her dearest Armand something more akin to an aunt or similar attachment. Yes a really cool Aunt possibly trumped older sister energy. "What troubles you?"

[sonataforsybelle]

With the reassurance that everything was safe, Sybelle moved with more confidence and made a beeline for the tulips. She took her time to smell them and choose the pinks and reds she liked the most. Meticulously, she created her bouquet, being gentle with the way she touched each tulip. Her mother liked precision, and this was a trait Sybelle either learned or shared. She thought of her father, too, but she couldn't tell what he'd like from her. A successful career, probably. Nothing she could do for him now.

She also picked a simple vase, careful to estimate it was heavy enough for this usage, and filled it with water. With this done, she looked at the other flowers for a bit, holding her vase and bouquet close to her chest. She loved flowers and plants in general, and was giving in to distraction, Marius almost forgotten. This was a good place, judging by the flowers arrangements. She let their beauty soothe her for a moment, the grief that had pushed her to wander from home still heavy in the back of her mind and muddling her thoughts.

Walking by the counter, she remembered her initial goal and put the vase down to fish for her wallet in her pockets. Benji always said she had a funny sense of morals, because she never flinched at her killings but she would get stressed out if she stole anything from a shop she broke in -- she always left money. If the bookkeeping was on paper, she sometimes went as far as writing down whatever she'd taken in inventory -- probably not the wisest move, but it felt right.

A glance at the price, and she made sure to leave a lot more cash than that, now remembering Marius and glancing at him wondering if she'd forgotten anything. She made her way back to him, her hands unfortunately taken by the filled vase. She was ready to go, if he was.

His hand holding hers was an anchor in the night, keeping her here and there and not stuck in obsessive and jumbled thoughts. It was easy, to simply let Marius lead the way and follow him, to look for his guidance when she felt she was slipping away. They'd built an easy understanding of her communication, with signing and sounds and Marius was always doing the work to guess. Only Benji had been able to build such in her previous life.

Sybelle made a pleased sound as Marius pointed out the tulips through the window, even able to discern their smell among the many fragrances, although faint. Of course the shop was closed, and now with only one thing in mind, she quickly walked around to find a window that might be easier to slip through. Having no luck with it, she came back to the front door and concentrated to unlock it with the mind gift. The ability was new, and it took her a longer time than it would have an older one, but after a minute or so she heard the click. She pushed the door slowly, not stepping in yet, watching for an alarm -- and looked up at Marius on how to proceed.