sheepskeleton: Thank uuuu! I wrote you that message bc you commented on a recent Nicki fanart that you didn’t need to draw one, which, honestly, YES U DO *u*

  • (random bullet point bc why not?) Thanks also for the compliment, awww ❤ As I may have mentioned, this blog runs on #VC fandom love, so you have successfully refueled the tank ;] 
  • I love your art and get a similar feeling like “DAMN I MUST BE AMONG THE FIRST TO REBLOG THIS" 

  • The TPS thing is a joke from Office Space (bc I am old enough to have seen that movie)(JFC was it really 1999 that it came out? I didn’t see it in the theater, but wow, did not realize it was that old)(it’s still excellent and should not be missed)(might even be more relevant now than in 1999).

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(i must have asked u smtg and for the life of me cannot remember what exactly… maybe its in response to that “Tell me what you think of me” meme from last week but whatevs)

paopaofh ♥♥♥​ thank uuuu such kind words, much appreciate!! ♥♥♥ yesss you are one of my very first followers, methinks. So glad to know my own VC addiction is enjoyed and shared by others.

It’s so encouraging to get messages like these. I hope this blog continues to live up to the high expectations it has set *u*

Bon Anniversaire.

viaticumforthemarquise:

To my son, Lestat, on this, the anniversary of his birth:

You came, unexpected, in the early stages of winter. I was in labour with you for well over ten hours, my body aching for release, exhausted and cold, shivering in sweat and tears and blood. 

The nurse cleaned you off by the fire, joking that you were more mouth than face, your cries driving out the priest and my maid both. She tutted as she swaddled you, wrestling the squirming limbs into the cloth, shaking her head and gently relating to you that it was indeed snowing outside, and that you would be glad of the warmth and tightness soon. 

She arched an eyebrow as I reached for you—she had nursed all of your brothers, what was so special about you?—but acquiesced after a moment and placed you in my arms, aiding me to secure you to my breast. I had never done it before, you see, and while it seemed natural in theory it was strange at first in practice. 

But the moment you latched on, your eyes drifting closed, something happened to me. 

Something changed. I wish… I wish I had words for it. It feels awkward and fumbling to try to describe what it was, that moment, but the alien feeling suddenly fell away. Reality shifted and the world blurred before righting itself. 

One moment, I was a woman. In pain, desperation, frustration and anger. 

The next, I was a mother. And you were there, a warm bundle in my arms.

Could I know that nothing would be the same again?

Tanti auguri, mio figlio. Ti amo. 

^Accurate: Lestat being more mouth than face, and driving priests away since his birth.

merciful-death:

merciful-death:

I stopped. I put my arm around him. I held him close to me.

“I’m Lestat,” I said in a low voice. “Your Lestat. I’m the same Lestat you’ve always known, and no matter how I’m changed, I’m still that same being.”

“I know,” he said warmly.

I kissed him. I pressed my lips to his and I held this kiss for a long silent moment. And then I gave in to a silent wave of feeling, and I took him in my arms. I held him tight against me. I felt his unmistakable silken skin, his soft shining black hair. I heard the blood throbbing in him, and time dissolved, and it seemed I was in some old and secret place, some warm tropical grotto we’d once shared, ours alone in some way, with the scent of sweet olive blossoms and the whisper of moist breeze. “I love you,” I whispered.

In a low intimate voice, he answered: “My heart is yours.”

—Prince Lestat (Lestat with Louis)

hyperbeeb#hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah don’t even talk to me #prince lestat #the only good thing that came out of the last ~9 chapters #generally homosexual #otp: i hate you i still might kill you i wish you were dead come live with me #prince lestat spoilers

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*SUCH FEELS*

We need FCPS (Fictional Character Protective Services)

i-want-my-iwtv:

everlastingporcelainMun’s unpopular opinion 

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adirotynd: #absolutely fucking weeping #fuck right the hell off #FCPS #for actual real #tvc #mater glorioso #justice for gabrielle #justice for bianca #justice for pandora #justice for akasha #no one fucking touch me

Lestat at Present

askthebratprince:

I’ve been meaning to post a lengthy headcanon about Lestat for awhile now. Specifically, one that involves how he is currently. It all began perhaps a year or so ago when a post came to my attention: an update on our favourite Vampires straight from the author’s mouth. She specifically pointed out that Lestat was alone and not with the others. This seemed out of place to me, since Lestat is quite the social being that craves companionship. So I began to wonder…

Why? Why is he alone? What could have possibly happened that he is now away from Louis, David, Marius, and all the others?

There was only one answer that I could see. Lestat finally must have done something that ended with the others not wanting to have a thing to do with him. Why else would he not be pursuing them in some way?
Since he was turned in Paris, and perhaps even before then, Lestat began digging this metaphorical hole down and away from all those who ever once cared about him. It was as if he was searching for some buried treasure, some prize and would do anything to get to it more expediently. Thus, he never thinks how his actions will affect others. Never. So all his mistakes, all his “adventures” have dug this hole deeper and deeper.

However, there has always been a ladder that was lowered down into this hole, and his friends, companions, and would descend it to try and convince him to, to help him to climb out. First, it was his mother, then Nicolas, then even Armand, and then Marius. Next, it was Louis and then David, who would descend down into this metaphorical hole several times, more than others ever would. Both of them, leaving a lantern, reminded Lestat of what he could have at the surface. If he would just listen to them for once.

Then that something happened. What that something is, I’ve yet to figure out, but whatever Lestat did, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, as they say. And then his way out of this hole was gone. The ladder was removed, the lantern snuffed out, leaving Lestat with only a fleeting reminder of what was and what could have been: the dim light from the entrance of the hole he had dug himself.

This broke him, no doubt sending him into some kind of mental break, and now he has to find his own way out; to find some way to begin making up for all the wrongs he has done. 

And Lestat does this alone.