#vampire commentary

[fantasymuses]

Yosuke sighs. "Whelp I missed my own birthday not sure if that's a good thing or not." He shrugs his shoulders slightly

[perseidlion]

The Interview With the Vampire TV show is a perfect example of how adaptations do not have to follow the source material closely to be an excellent adaptation.

(This is a spoiler-free commentary, but it does discuss the dynamics of the characters in general.)

I read the books back in the day, and of course, saw the original movie. Despite a laundry list of big changes, the series still feels extremely true to the books because it captures the spirit. It gets the characters and their fucked-up dynamics right. It doesn't shy away from them being melodramatic monsters. It keeps to the rules established in the source material. The show also makes sure to preserve key moments and key scenes, but always with a twist.

Since they did that, they were free to shift things in time, amp up and adapt certain dynamics, and change the race of characters in a way that deepens the story and complicates already extremely complicated power dynamics.

The original movie stuck more closely to the era and the appearance of the characters as described by Anne Rice, but I don't think the story loses anything by changing those two elements. In fact, it gives it modern relevance and room for political and social commentary.

I have never ascribed to the idea that an adaptation has to be slavishly accurate to the source material to be a good adaptation. It just has to be smart enough to identify what to keep and what can change. An adaptation adapts. Honestly, I find it boring when I see exactly what was in a book up on screen with no surprises. Where's the fun in that?

The difference between a good adaptation and a bad one is not how accurate it is to the source material, but how well the adaptation respects what made the story compelling to begin with.

What's important here?

Lestat is dramatic and powerful and a monster who is deeply charismatic, but also manipulative.

Louis is overdramatic and self-hating, but oddly drawn to Lestat.

Claudia is fierce, but bitter about her eternal childhood.

Their relationship is deeply toxic but with true affection. They are monsters, but monsters capable of intense love and devotion - to the point where it has the power to destroy them.

THAT is at the core of this story. THAT is what they keep intact. This frees up all sorts of avenues for play around a few key plot beats.

This room for play also gives opportunities to expand on thinner characters or rewrite them entirely. It's been a long time since I read the books, but I don't recall Daniel standing out as more than a framing device, especially in earlier books. But in the show, he's one of the best parts. Not only does he take a much more active role in the story, he delivers some of the most hilarious and cutting lines of the entire series. If the show had stuck closely to the source material, we wouldn't have this Daniel.

It was also smart of them to make Claudia a few years older. The eternal child element is preserved, but the layer of arrested teenaged hormones and womanhood that will never blossom adds an extra layer of angst and sadness. She is stuck forever in a state of rebellion, never allowed to settle and come into her own.

Having her be a young Black woman also deepens her attachment to Louis, visually, socially and symbolically. They are different from Lestat and they understand each other in a way he never can. She's still very much the Claudia from the book but with layers added to deepen her character and add new, fresh dynamics and complications.

It's also delightful to see the show take the homoeroticism that was subtextual in the early books with Louis and Lestat (and in the original film) and making it unapologetically text. Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles have always been incredibly queer and subversive, but it's amazing to see that side of it fully embraced and stated plainly with no ambiguity or qualifiers or hints. It's queer and that queerness is woven into the fabric of the entire narrative. Louis and Lestat are the toxic beating heart of the Vampire Chronicles.

It's also important because we need messy, dark, fucked-up queer narratives. Sweet, coming-of-age stories and romances are of course, important - especially for younger queer people. But us older queer folk not only want to see ourselves in multiple genres, we want permission to see imperfect, messy, and yes, even evil characters. It's a way of reclaiming the monstrous queer that was villainized for so long and making it our own. We want to find something beautiful in the dark.

If we all thought about it, we could probably think of dozens of examples where a show or movie went far off-script from the source material and was still an excellent adaptation.

Interview With the Vampire is just the most recent and one of the best examples of a stellar adaptation that respects the source material but also builds and expands on it.

I look forward to seeing how they surprise me next season.

[bean-winchester]

Wait I’m sorry can we talk about how the Loustat reunion in 2x08 is the FIRST TIME we as the audience meet Lestat unfiltered??? Not Louis’ narrative of Lestat, not Armand’s, not a hallucination, but the genuine article, for the first time??? And he’s so sad, so vulnerable, so… human? You can feel how different he is— Sam plays him like a new Lestat, like how he conceived of Dreamstat and Armand’s Lestat as different Lestats from s1 Lestat— and the first impression you get from this is that time and grief have changed Lestat. But what if the difference is more than that— what if these have always been elements of Lestat, flattened by Louis’ memory?

Watching that scene, the revelation of caring, grieving, tender Lestat rippled back through the show for me, subtler but more powerful than the San Francisco revelations or the revisions from the trial. Because it’s true, isn’t it, that it’s so much easier to make monsters of the people who hurt us, to remember them as powerful, intentional, and fundamentally uncaring? The truth is much harder to bear— that those who maim and abuse us feel as deeply as we do, that they love and grieve and doubt, that they cry and shake and cling to us, just as small before the hurricane as we are

[nalyra-dreaming]

You know, the really fucked up thing about Lestat going "how can you manage it" when Armand is telling Louis he loves him is that this is Louis.

Louis reacting to Armand and his words, and projecting his own emotional response into a manifestation of Lestat saying what he cannot... OR it is his manifestation of what he expects Lestat to say to it all, which in turn makes it something he subconsciously feels trepidation about.

Like that is so deliciously fucked up on so many levels.

The hallucinations of Lestat and their meaning for Louis' state of mind will be so utterly delicious to analyze next season.

[layer-of-slayers]

Thinking about that ridiculous scene in s6 when Xander walks in on Spike and Buffy having some extremely noticeable sexual tension (and also some hand stuff going on i think?) in Buffy’s kitchen, where they are standing like 5 centimetres away from one another TOPS and yet still when Xander walks in his reaction is to obliviously snark at Spike about how he could “still be trying to mack on Buffy” and telling him to get it through his head that it’s “never going to happen”, which never quite made sense to me.

But now I am seeing it through the lenses of my new Xander realisation and noticing the parallel that Xander himself has (perhaps only subconsciously) traced between Spike and himself. He had a huge crush on Buffy and she rejected him and he knows she will never change her mind about it by s6 (though it sure took a while for that life lesson to sink in) and now he expects Spike to come to the same realisation. ‘Ugh, he’s still trying to mack on Buffy? Doesn’t he know she’s way out of their league? She’s already turned him down, told him so several times in fact, the next step is to accept it and move on, obviously, like Xander himself has had to do but trust Spike to be stubborn/annoying/bad at taking no for an answer.’

He’s seeing himself in Spike again, projecting his own attraction to Buffy and how that whole situation went down on Spike, assuming it must go the same way (except with Spike being Worse about it because of course as a vampire he’s inherently inferior to Xander himself in Xander’s eyes).

When it is revealed that Spike and Buffy had a thing in Entropy, Xander takes it as a personal betrayal. Xander bought into the Angel exception, into the story of Angel’s exceptionality. Yeah, Buffy loved him and dated him but he had a soul. It didn’t make him good enough in Xander’s eyes, but it did make him different. Spike doesn’t have that. Therefore, Buffy would never even consider him. And after Angel, Buffy dated Riley, normal human (mostly) who Xander loved. Riley was exactly the kind of guy Xander wished he could be, and therefore exactly the right guy for Buffy in his eyes.

Spike outright tells him and still Xander refuses to believe him until he sees Buffy’s expression of shame. Then she tries to explain herself to him as though who she has sex with is in any way Xander’s business or a subject in which he should have a say. And that’s how he feels like, he feels Buffy betrayed his image of her and her sacred duty by allowing Spike to touch her, because she is (should be) too good for Spike, too good for the both of them, otherwise why did he never get a chance with her?

[hiwaga-is-not-real]

Everyday I wake up and end up finding myself in a position this motherfucker is in

[eric-bogosian]

"I'm cleaning up the mess." "It doesn't need cleaning."

Interview with the Vampire (2022-)

[whereserpentswalk]

The Night Hunt

I need to eat. It’s not eating anymore. It doesn’t feel like thirst or hunger. It’s not something I would have understood as a human. I feel like I’m going to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t think anyone would mind if I did. My mouth is shaped so differently than it once was, I can’t move my jaws, I feel empty, I need it to fill me, and I feel empty.

The upper west side vampiric community center was cramped, getting everything it could from limited funds and real estate. The walls were white and the lighting sterile, their deadness only broken by overly enthusiastic posters. It was strange looking at the other vampires in the building, most of them seemed to be doing much better than me. Even most of the ones that ones you could tell weren’t human at a glance usually looked more human than me. It felt like everyone I saw was doing better than me, the petite girl in a black dress talking to her parents on the phone, the bearded man with cats eyes dressed in fancy clothes he had probably owned some version of for centuries, the snake mouthed person guzzling down a can of commercially sold blood like it was soda. I could assume a lot of the vampires I saw here had supportive families, and many others were old enough to be well adjusted to their lives. It almost hurt looking at vampires who could pass better than me, or who could better mask vampiric traits, this embarrassing envy, that I was a monster even by the standards of monsters.

I could have socialized, but I was too tired, and too thirsty. I had just been denied a good behavior slip by the New York State government, and thus denied a month’s supply of donated blood, and the building stopped being somewhere I wanted to be. Most vampires can’t get a good behavior slip, A lot don’t even try just because of how humiliating and restrictive life during the audit can be. A lot of them live off of relatives’ and friend’s blood, or buy it wholesale. I don’t have the option for either of those, at least not consistently.

I walked up Broadway, when I left, below the safety of the dark sky, and the calming yellow light of the windows, past the old brick buildings of a childhood that now seems alien to me. Best to get outside time in while I can, it’s summer, giving me few hours before the sun rises. It’s strange to remember when I walked down that street as a human. That deep loss of something I can remember but will never feel once more. Remembering how easy things were. When the restaurants smelled good to my body, instead of sickly sweet. It would’ve made me cry to see myself reflected in a window, if my eyes had tears to cry. To see I was the type of vampire other even other vampires shunning, too vampiric perhaps, to close to what they all fear being, too close to what they’re all accused of. I used to think of losing my humanity was a horrible fate, and now I am the bad ending for so many other nonhumans. I wonder how many of my kind’s advocates think I’m worthy of oppression. They say not all vampires look horrifying to humans, but I look horrifying to humans. They say not all vampires think violent thoughts about humans automatically, but I find myself doing that so often. They say not all vampires are weak to sunlight, or are hurt by symbols of their prior faith, but I am, and it hurts, and if acceptance means telling people it doesn’t hurt I’ll just get hurt more.

I tried to think of something to distract myself. Tried to think of friends who still cared about me, about that show I wanted to finish, tired to think about that Lord of the Rings fanfic that I wrote in middle school that I had though about on that street, on a bright day so alien to the humid night I walked through. No matter what I thought about there was always blood in the back on my mind. Even when a vampire isn’t thinking about blood directly, when they’re low, as almost fatally low as I was, it’s always able to be felt in the background. I could feel my body’s desire for blood, feel the pain and weakness of not having it. It was strange, to know that my body hurt because it wanted like, that my body only transformed into a vampire because it would have died from being bitten by one if it hadn’t. My body wanted to live as a vampire so much more than I did. My hands shook, my gate more unbalanced, more stumbling than it usually was, my twisted and inhuman mouth, the most inhuman part of my body, salivating. The staggered and almost animalistic walk must have made me look even more like a monster. The pigeons flew away when they saw me, they must have known, or maybe that’s just what pigeons are like.

 My once tan skin now so pale my organs are visible, my once fit body now skinny, my brown eyes forever white, and my mouth perfectly round and unmoving and filled with sharp tooth after sharp tooth like a lamprey. All so perfect to drink blood, all built to drain blood. It hurts to think I’ll probably be in this body for centuries. The same hoodie I’d been wearing for days still covers me a bit, as does my mess of uncut hair, I don’t really have to wash these things without human oils on my body anymore. It’s not good to think too long about that fact. There is no wonder my parents would rather consider their precious daughter basically dead, than know that she lived as this. I might do the same if I had a choice. I think about when I was turned sometimes, how I didn’t get to be turned out of love, or lust, or spite, how the bite was meant to kill me, how it would have killed me if I wasn’t rushed to the hospital, or if I hadn’t fought the attacker off. I never even knew the name of the vampire who attacked me. I didn’t know why he did at the time, I assumed it was from hate, I understand now, I would never defend attacking someone like that but I understand, he was hungry, I know how it feels to want blood like how he must have. People would have had me better in their memories if I had died, nobody admits it, but it’s true, my parents convinced themselves I had on religious grounds, saying my soul had left my body, I understand why, my reputation was not tarnished.

As I walked past stores and restaurants that had closed hours earlier, saw how little the world wanted me. I wondered how I would keep existing. I remembered that my transformation has made it so I wouldn’t age, couldn’t die a natural death at all, I realized how strange it would be for me to exist in a body like the one I did for hundreds more years, thousands if I got lucky. There was the feeling that maybe I’d be murdered, most of society didn’t even want the most human passing, most privileged vampires to live, it sucked even for people who had it so much better than me, maybe I’d just die, maybe one of those monster hunter gangs would finally due me in like they always threaten to online. But what if I didn’t, what if I had to still live. If I actually had put the work in to having positive relationships with the community maybe some vampiric elder would be able to tell me. As it was I felt lost, I didn’t know what I could be doing a hundred years from where I stood. Would things be better than, for me, for us? Would I be ok?

For a moment my eye caught a girl around my age. As a human I would have felt lust for her, she had that exact look that I used to like. Glistening hair dyed a candy colored red, a pale pink Cowboy Bebop t-shirt covering her chest. I would have felt lust, or perhaps a more noble sounding attraction, but now that part of me is gone, and seeing a young healthy body like that just makes me think about what it would be like to drink her instead of making me think about being in bed with her. I knew it was wrong, but it would feel so good, to feel my mouth punch into her neck, and drain her dry. I don’t want to feel this way, the logical part of my brain doesn’t like feeling this way, but it’s a feeling in my body. When I looked at her soft skin my teeth ever so slightly extended outwards, and the tiredness from the pain of thirst temporarily ceasing as my body filled with energy, my dreaming mind fantasizing about holding her as I drank her blood, as ashamed as I am of such thoughts, as little as I’d want to ever hurt someone like her, it felt so good in the moment just to fantasize. It was the closest I still had to feeling anything sexual or romantic, as many social media posts as there are telling you it’s a myth that all vampires lose their sexual or romantic feelings, it’s true for me, I don’t even have breasts or sex organs anymore, as horrifying as that is to even acknowledge about myself. Just another thing that makes me seem less human, and just another thing that makes drinking human blood seem to desirable. I didn’t want to hurt her, just looking at her walking, she seemed so happy, so pure.

I did nothing, yet she still crossed the street. I understood, it was late, and I was a ragged looking vampire walking near her, she had a right to feel safe. I ran, as thirsty as my body was I didn’t want to be near her, and didn’t want to cause a scene.

Best to flee uptown, Time Square is filled with Faeries, and Central Park with werewolves, and neither take kindly to my kind in the places they tend to hang out. There is a safety in being human, despite all the stories of young maidens scratched up in monster’s arms, with blood contrasting on top of their pretty white skin, most monsters with ill wills are way more likely to target other species of monster rather than humans. Humans are often well armed, and well defended by the law, and so many monsters are so eager to prove their kind’s validity through their hatred of another species of monster.

My running only stopped when I had to cross the street to avoid a church. One of those big ornate ones you’d see a vampiric villain hang out in in a thriller movie, with that shining stained glass they haven’t built in generations. They say it’s not anything divine that burns vampires that are weak to holy symbols, it’s just the memory of faith that hurts, the memory of the most human of all actions. Doesn’t change the fact that the pope still says we don’t have souls. The church ghosts all fled, they floated somewhere else just from seeing me, I wanted to yell to them “What? Are you too good even to haunt me.” I didn’t of course, I didn’t want to cause a scene. Maybe I would have if I wasn’t so weak from thirst.

I can’t get blood. The state won’t give it to me. My friends would say no if I asked. I can’t afford to buy it. I dropped out of school when I was turned, there wasn’t accommodation, and late classes were hard to get. Most of the friends I still have either treat me like a tragedy to fawn over, or like I could kill them at any time, they’re only human after all. I guess that’s why they recommend socializing with other monsters. I barely look for work anymore, even well-meaning humans are uncomfortable around me, though to be fair I’ve done nothing not to make them uncomfortable, and it’s impossible to ask them to close daytime windows, or keep silver and garlic away.  I spend so much time on the internet. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be this thirsty. I don’t want to look this way, and I don’t want to need blood. I never chose any of this, never chose to be bitten, never chose to be saved.

For a moment I saw another person on the street, alone with me. Some rich kid staggering drunk and barely knowing where he is, a sweatshirt from some fancy wizarding school clinging on to his body. His rosy yet pale cheeks, so vulnerable, not so privileged that he could hurt me, just privileged enough to feel like every bad though I could have towards him was punching up. He was the exact type of asshole that I’d expect to call me a slur, to be proud that wizards like him had engaged in just enough vampire hunts in the thirties and forties to be considered another type of human. But he didn’t. He didn’t notice me at all, he just sang to himself with his earbuds in and his eyes glued to his phone as he stumbled past closed stores.

I can smell blood on his lips. I remember that there is another way to quench my thirst. I’d have to drain him dry so that nobody would know. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be that type of vampire. His body is so fresh, I’d be full for like a year. I can’t stop looking at him and remembering my life. He’ll run but I can catch up to him, and he’ll taste so good. And I would be so hard to catch if I drained him to death, he’s a stranger, the case would go cold. I need blood, and he has blood, it’s like a trolly problem, you don’t need sadism to pick yourself when you’re tied to the tracks. And I can’t think of another way I could get blood before starving to death.  It feels weird to grab his wrist as he struggles, too thirsty to think too deeply. I don’t want to look at his face when he screams, but something deep within me is excited to hear a human scream. I feel sorry for him I think, he didn’t deserve this, I didn’t deserve this, if things were different… well they aren’t different. God my voice sounds demonic with this mouth. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

[eyestrain-addict]

Every time I start thinking about how we don't know who louis truly is because he doesn't even know who he truly is, I go a little more insane.

[redversaillesrose]

I personally think Anne missed the chance to re-write the books but like, anotated versions by different characters. Kinda like, director's cut of the books.

Interview with the Vampire: what actually happened, by the vampire Lestat. Oh no wait this one is actually canon.

The Vampire Lestat revisited by the vampire Armand.

Queen of the Damned: No one thinks you're amazing, and this is all your fault also by Armand.

The Tale of the Body Thief: Just what the fuck were you thinking seriously, by Marius.

[isabellehemlock]

Kat's Catholic Commentary - Part (I've lost track)

My focus for this episode will be on Lestat's speech in his parting letter to Louis.

The purpose behind the letter may vary depending on when it was written (before or after Lestat knew of Louis’ plan of betrayal).  However, my focus is on the language used - specifically “the veil” - and why my Catholic senses were tingling.

But first - the disclaimer:

This is purely a fan meta/theory.  Even when I talk about character motivations with some certainty, remember it's just my take, not a fact-based declaration.  This helps keep things brief rather than saying "in my opinion" before every other sentence.

All points and takes are valid - this is just one of them.  I'm exploring one potential aspect of Lestat and Louis' relationship, not the whole picture or even trying to suggest it as the main foundation.

Also, there are frank references to the Catholic Church, its history, practices, sacraments, and some Bible verses.  If at any point you need to take a step back for self-care, please do.  Your well-being comes first.

Before diving in, I’ll share why I see a potential for a secondary meaning behind it because I’d like to add some weight to my personal fan theory that Lestat is conscious of how faith is still an integral part of Louis’ identity and how he might use it (however the purpose of this, I’ll leave to the reader).

Several moments in the first season, and some from the books (spoilers ahead if you’d like to avoid events after IWTV), reference Lestat and Louis’ relationship and his faith (and especially with a context of Catholicism):

The entire monologue at the end of episode one as Lestat declares his feelings for Louis in front of the altar.

Lestat’s monologue of Saint Louis (both as an off hand reference in ep 1 and the expanded version of Ep 2 that ends with: “You’re challenge every sunset St. Louis, and I’d have it no other way.”)

After Louis asks about Antoinette in Ep 3, when Lestat is describing the need for various forms of pleasure for “anything that wards off the dungs of the everlasting road we walk” - pauses to point out Louis’ form of pleasure as “Pleasures of the Good Book by the fire for you.”

And then in Ep 6, when Lestat arrives to gift Louis something from his favorite bookshop: “‘The Book of Hours.’  Extremely rare, 15th century.” - the Book of Hours, is also known as the Liturgy of Hours, or Divine Office, used by both clergy, religious and laity alike for daily devotions on a rotating cycle for uniform prayer.

And from the books:

In IWTV, Louis’ reference to following Lestat as a kind of personal Jesus: 

I allowed myself to forget how totally I had fallen in love with Lestat’s iridescent eyes, that I’d sold my soul for a manycolored and luminescent thing, thinking that a highly reflective surface conveyed the power to walk on water. 

“What would Christ need have done to make me follow him like Matthew or Peter? Dress well, to begin with. And have a luxurious head of pampered yellow hair. 

Later, in Prince Lestat, when they are reunited, Louis says (from Lestat's POV): 

He leaned close to me, and he put his hand on my arm. “ ‘Wither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people’; and because I have no other god and never will, you shall be my god.”*

* This quote Louis is saying is from the Book of Ruth: She answered, "Do not be against me, as if I would abandon you and go away; for wherever you will go, I will go, and where you will stay, I also will stay with you. Your people are my people, and your God is my God.” - Ruth 1:16 CPDV

I’ve also shared metas and commentary on Tumblr and Twitter about Louis and Lestat's relationship to faith and the little nods I’ve picked up here and there (more on that below).  But this isn’t intended as a comprehensive summary, just a soft recap to add context for anyone wondering, “how did she read that in this scene?”

Now, onto the main point!  For anyone needing a refresher, here’s the letter in full:

In the event that you are reading this, something dreadful has occurred.  Which is not my own death, but rather, the fact that we both now exist in two different worlds.  Do not waste your life seeking revenge on the person or persons who did this.  Do not give them the satisfaction of the hunt.  Let treachery eat away at them from within.  And you, you go carry on with your living.  Know only this, mon cher: you are the only being I trust, and whom I love, above and beyond myself.  All my love belongs to you.  You are its keeper.  A veil will now forever separate our union.  But it is a thin veil, and I’m always on the other side, face pressed up against your longing.

Setting aside the beautiful writing, the language used, and the sentiments declared (it fed my Words of Affirmation love language meter well), my second thought upon hearing “A veil will now forever separate our union.  But it is a thin veil, and I’m always on the other side, face pressed up against your longing.” was what my Catholic senses were tingling.

In a previous meta I discussed how I viewed the scene of Louis’ turning as a nod to the Sacrament of the Eucharist (though I can also see the other fan theory of the Sacrament of Matrimony).  This furthers my idea of Louis viewing Lestat as a kind of personal Jesus.  Given the examples above, I believe there might have been some intention behind Lestat’s words to reach Louis on a vulnerable level through his faith.

But why would former Catholic altar boy Louis catch that meaning, and what would it mean to him?

In the Catholic Church, the Eucharist is veiled in order to symbolize the mystery and sacredness of the Sacrament.  The veil represents the separation between the divine and the mortal, indicating that the true essence of the Eucharist (Christ's Body and Blood) is hidden under the appearance of bread and wine (and it’s a practice that dates back to early Christianity, where the veil also served to protect the Eucharist from desecration and to enhance the reverence of the faithful during Mass).

As Catholics, we believe that Jesus, at the Last Supper, instituted the Eucharist, when He said, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19).  He also said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (Luke 22:20).  They were declarations to emphasize the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist but also to serve as a message of hope - that there would be an intimate connection between Jesus and His followers, despite His physical absence after His death and resurrection - “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).  

Though death might separate the physical presence, the Eucharist provides a continuous, though veiled, connection with Christ.  This then allows the veil to symbolize hope and assurance that, while there may be a separation, it is thin, with the promise of a deeper, spiritual communion that transcends physical boundaries.

So, if Louis potentially viewed the Dark Gift as a kind of Eucharist that nourishes the soul, given to him through Lestat, then their spiritual interconnection and the nourishment it provided could continue.  His devotion to Lestat would not need to end.

I believe Lestat “I went to a monastery to become a priest” de Lioncourt, knew exactly what he was doing when he used those words to describe how interlinked they would remain.  

This furthered Louis’ (perhaps even subconscious) view of Lestat and Jesus - and himself as potentially Judas (meta here, and here), though I personally enjoy the view of Louis identifying with Mother Mary the most (visual reference and poem, art and another art piece here).

Whether intentional or not, or perhaps a completely different point that I read too much into (which can definitely be the case lol), it spoke to me on a deep level when I heard it.  I’d like to believe it did for Louis as well. 

[thepenultimateword]

Spooktober Prompt #3

"What...are those?" the private detective said, leaning in closer to the angry prick marks in the victim's throat. "Some sort of injection? Or minor stab wound?”

The officer crouched beside them, spreading the holes apart with gloved fingertips. With their other hand the shook out a cotton swab and evidence bag, throughly swabbing the circumference of the wounds. "Fang marks."

The detective blinked. "What? Like from an animal?"

"Textbook vampire, but always good to take a sample just in case."

"Wait, vampire? What-- Is this a prank? Because it’s not funny. This is a murder scene.”

The officer raised their brows. “Skeptic, huh? We don’t get many of those around here. Didn’t that client of yours explain anything?”

[ardentpoop]

What do you think when people insist Dean is the only one with feminine characteristics or woman-coded, but that sam isn't?

I think you can guess my answer lmfao.

when ppl talk abt dean like that I find it incredibly irritating as it is based on superficial and demeaning ideas of “femininity.” bc truly what the fuck does dean as a character have to do with social expectations of womanhood. his role in the story is Head Of Household which he inherited from john. in terms of samndean’s relationship dean is the partner who calls the shots and who determines when sam should be considered trustworthy/“good” by the audience and by other characters like bobby and cas. he’s the domineering husband (to sam, for most of this story) and the abusive father (very true for jack, also kind of true for ben if you’re paying attention) and he started metamorphosing into his Own father from the very beginning. he makes himself big and rough and mean because that’s what he thinks he’s supposed to do to protect His Family (mostly just sam). he makes decisions abt sam’s body for him bc sam’s body tacitly belongs to dean, no matter how much sam initially fights this reality. he views women as either sex objects (his neverending conquests) or helpless lambs who need protecting (see how he talks abt jo or claire, for example, or even just the female victims he takes a shine to throughout the early seasons). as soon as a female antagonist displeases him she’s a Bitch and a Skank and a Whore whom he’s desperate to stick his knife in.

fyi dean being super misogynistic is delicious to me and very important to the narrative but most people straight-up edit it out which is. wild. you’re pretending THIS MAN isn’t a woman-hater? THIS MAN???

anyway yeah a male character isn’t Mommy-Coded for preparing a meal or tending to his sick partner lmfao. he isn’t One Of The Girls bc he occasionally deigns to pierce the suffocating shell of his toxic masculinity to indulge in shit that he’d call Gay if another man did it around him. you’re being sexist and ignorant when you talk like that lol. people who use that language for sam are more often than not doing so bc his narrative is deeply and painfully relatable to women bc at its core it is abt his lack of agency over his own body and his own life. people who use that language for dean are just being fucking. silly. and I would guess they don’t have strong opinions abt the show’s actual female characters and how it treats them.

[diaryofateenageslayer]

I was rewatching my Buffy DVDs and found the JW commentary. Even though his views on women/feminism tainted this show, he does explain his directing decisions.

If you don't believe the Spuffy fans, at least believe the writers and actors who created their story!

It's the "wait...Bangel was a big deal?" for me.

JW actually admits that Angel reappearing in the last episode and the Bangel kiss was, in fact, "fan service."

Emphasis on the VOCAL MINORITY that leads to the fan service. Something iconic enough (The Bangel kiss) to "give people hope( 😂) that Buffy and Angel might one day work out" - purple

I don't know what was going through that brain of his, but Parker was NOT "the most important relationship of her life." Like sir, where did that come from? - green

The chemistry between both David/Sarah and James/Sarah is insane. However, I like how both relationships have their own distinct chemistry. - yellow

Spike is more on Buffy's level. he understands her, both physically and emotionally, something Angel struggles with. - orange

The relationship is more nuanced, we witnessed the development, and we watched it build from the ground up. We can point out pivotal moments in the relationship. Spike has more dynamic, he's not just "the tall, dark and handsome vampire" that seduces Buffy.

Buffy tells Spike things she wouldn't tell anybody else.

"These two" (Sarah/Buffy & James/Spike), yes, I agree 🤗- blue

Angel is described as an object of desire. Buffy falls in love because of his looks. If Angel wasn't attractive, would she have fallen for him? It's his body that "becomes the object of her gaze."

He really has his looks to offer. "He's tall, dark, and handsome" so he must be a love interest. "Otherwise what else would his purpose be?"

The analysis states that Angel functions as Buffy's "homme fatal," (An ultimately seductive and dangerous man; a womanizer) which gives a nod to Liam's character, his human self.

Joss explains the comparisons between souled and soulless Spike and his behavior/change. Soulless Spike didn't recognize boundaries.

JW still highlights that Spike needs development before he and Buffy become "lovers" again.

The writer of the character and the story states that this man can be redeemed.

[sandushengshou]

you know lestat was reaching for the lube and some tissues right after the 'I own the night' moment

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

"I trust things have calmed down some and Homelander has found his present slash entertainment by now.."

He takes another swig of bloodwine, he's drinking heavy tonight.