if you’re labouring under the misapprehension that lestat is cool allow me to correct you, lestat is not cool he is a whiny, needy little cry baby and i love him for it
You never know if someone needs this. Reblog this, even if its not your ‘blog type’. Just do it.
Yes, please reblog
Do it. Now.
i sat here and thought about reblogging this or not but then i realized how many peoplefeel suicidal, and i have too its not dan and phil but i could honestly care less, bc i rather have someone not die then make sure i strictly stay to my ‘blog type’
Misery. The only word that came close to describing the current life of the young plantation owner known as Louis de Pointe du Lac. Wandering aimlessly and drinking were all he could manage to do with his time as of late. Drinking, and drinking, and more drinking, but no amount of alcohol could kill this misery and it certainly wasn’t going to kill him, at least not fast enough. That was the only option in his mind at this point. To die.. to rot away to nothing in the cold ground like his brother. What peace it seemed awaited him whenever he would breathe his last.. That illusion of peace so tempting that he had been seeking it out, provoking brutish men into violence night after night. Just last evening he thought he had found his precious death, that the blade of a common street criminal might strike a vein and leave him to bleed out on the dirty cobblestone. But a powerful punch delivered to his jaw had left him penniless and unconscious, to awake simply furious an hour later on the ground. Such a sting of failure that he could not even reach the mercy of death and that his own hands could not carry out the deed no matter how he thought and thought on it. He might have hung himself from one of the ancient trees on his own property, had he the courage to slip the noose around his neck. These thoughts were madness.. absolute madness, but not like Paul’s madness. That had been full of irrepresible passion, confidence, unwavering dedication, maybe even something to admire. His own suffering had no passion. No passion for anything anymore. Only the inescapable and horrifying desire for his heart to cease its beating. This evening, he sat in a run down saloon, drinking raspberry brandy straight from the bottle and intoxicated enough that his stride was unsteady, regal clothing unkempt, and raven hair a mess of tangles. Louis threw back another swig of the sickeningly sweet liquor, tired eyes scanning the noisy bar with a challenging glimmer as he searched for the man who might, with any luck, end his life tonight.
Ricean vampires do cry blood tears in the books. Other vampires might not. Claudia would have cried blood tears.
In this production still from a cut scene, it looks like Claudia does have blood tears:
I don’t know why they didn’t actually do it throughout the movie. Looks like they at least tried, though :-
Here’s another production still. Maybe the director didn’t like the thickness of them? Or the fact that they would be difficult to add in physically, since you’d have to redo her makeup for each take? In the books, blood tears are basically regular tears tinged with blood, so they would probably look pink, not so thick and red as these are. These look like ketchup.
❝ Sometimes people try to d e s t r o y you, precisely because they recognize your power – not because they don’t see it, but because they see it and don’t want it to exist. ❞
I-want-my-IWTV 