#vampire pocket

[c0zm4z]

ghost of pipmas past

@okmedina vamp pocket

[strangely-yours-truly]

good lawd herber the vampire!!

dude im crashing TF OUTTTTT

[shopwitchvamp]

“Omg, I love these! They go up to size 6X AND they have pockets?! Wow!! But do you have anything longer?”

Sure do, no problem!!

“YES these are great!!! But what about.. longer?”

I gotcha!! Comin’ right up!

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about! But… how about if I’m feeling like it’s the kinda day where I need my clothing to be bifurcated???”

Never fear, joggers are here!

"Finally! Pants that are just as fun as skirts! They're so cool!" /scene

🖤witchvamp.com🖤

[userarmand]

Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire Q&A with Creatives & Cast | ATX TV Festival

[in-kyblogs]

Delainey being adorably surprised by the crowd at the sdcc 2024 iwtv panel going wild for her (as they should!) <3

(source)

[swampybogg]

[invinciblerodent]

This is going to be very ranty and disjointed, probably borderline incomprehensible post, but with the "return" of Dragon Age Discourse (and really, did it ever go anywhere?) and me repeatedly seeing the complaints and dismissals of DA:I as a "chosen one"-type of a narrative, I just.... I keep finding myself thinking about the relationship of truth and lies within the game.

Throughout the course of DA:I, the idea of a malleable, flexible personal identity, and a painful confrontation with an uncomfortable truth replacing a soothing falsehood, follows pretty much every character throughout their respective arcs.

There are some more obvious ones, Solas, Blackwall, The Iron Bull, their identities and deceptions (of both those around them and themselves) are clearly front and center in the stories told about them, but this theme of deception (both of the self- and the outside world) is clearly present in the stories of the others as well.

Like, for example, ones that come immediately to mind are stories like that of Cullen, who presents an image of a composed and disciplined military man, a commander- all to hide the desperate and traumatized addict that he sees himself as.

Dorian grappled with the expectations of presenting the image of the perfect heir to his father's legacy, the prideful scion of his house, his entire life (he even introduces himself as the result of "careful breeding", like one might speak about a prized horse)- all while knowing that his family would rather see him lobotomized and obedient, than anything even just resembling his vibrant and passionate self.

Cassandra calls herself a Seeker of Truth, and takes pride in that identity- only to learn that in reality, she has been made a liar, a keeper of secrets, without her knowledge or consent, and it is up to her to either uproot the entire organization and painfully cut out the abscess it is to build it back from the ground up into something respectable, or let the information she had revealed sit, and continue to fester.

And this theme continues and reframes itself in, among others, things like Sera's own inner conflict between her elven heritage and her human upbringing, or in Cole being caught in this unconscionable space in-between human and spirit, between person and concept, etc.

The Inquisitor isn't exempt from this either.

I feel like this is where the core of the many misunderstandings of this plot come from, why so many people continue to believe that Inquisition is a "chosen one" or "divinely appointed" type of story, because I think many might just... not realize, that the protagonist's identity is also malleable, and what they are told in the setup/first act of the game is not necessarily the truth.

The tale of the Inquisitor is the exact opposite of that of a "chosen one" story: it's an examination and reflection of the trope, in that it is the story of an assumption that all wrongly believe to be the truth, and thrust upon you, even if you protest. The very point is that no matter who you choose to say that you are, you will be known as the Herald of a prophet you don't even necessarily believe in, and then that belief will be proven wrong, leaving you to cope with either a devastating disappointment if you believed it, or a bitter kind of vindication if you didn't.

There's a moment just after Here Lies the Abyss (when you learn of the lie you've been fed your entire journey in the game) that I don't often see mentioned, but I think it's one of the most emotionally impactful character moments, if you are playing an Andrastian Inquisitor who had actually believed themselves chosen (which I realize is a rather unpopular pick, lol): it's when Ser Ruth, a Grey Warden, realizes what she had done and is horrified by her own deeds, and turns herself in asking to be tried for the murder of another of her order. As far as she is concerned, she had spilled blood for power, and regardless of whether she was acting of her own volition at the time, whether she had agency in the moment, is irrelevant to her: she seeks no absolution, but willingly submits to any punishment you see fit.

And only if you play as an Inquisitor who, through prior dialogue choices, had established themselves as a devout Andrastian, can you offer her forgiveness, for a deed that was objectively not her fault- not really.

You can, in Andraste's name, forgive her- even though you, at that point, know that you have no real right to do so. That you're not Andraste's Herald, that Andraste may or may not even exist, and that you can't grant anyone "divine forgiveness", because you, yourself, don't have a drop of divinity within you. You know that you were no more than an unlucky idiot who stumbled their way into meddling with forces beyond their ken.

You know you're a fraud. You know. The game forces you to realize, as it slowly drip-drip-drips the memories knocked loose by the blast back into your head, that what all have been telling you that you are up to this point, is false. And yet, you can still choose to keep up the lie, and tell this woman who stands in front of you with blood on her hands and tears in her eyes, that you, with authority you don't have, grant her forgiveness for a crime that wasn't hers to commit.

Because it's the right thing to do. Because to lie to Ser Ruth is far kinder than anything else you could possibly do to her, short of refusing to make a decision altogether.

There are any number of criticisms of this game that I can accept (I may or may not agree depending on what it is, but I'm from the school of thought that any interpretation can be equally valid as long as there's text that supports it, and no text that contradicts it), but I will always continue to uphold that the Inquisitor is absolutely not- and never was a "chosen one".

They're just as small, and sad, and lost, as all the other protagonists- the only difference is that they didn't need to fight for their mantle, because instead of a symbol of honor, it acted as a straitjacket.

[fanfictionroxs]

Look at Armand lmao this is the face of a man whose tricks just don't work on the love of his life. Match made in hell truly

[ariaste]

you know what's super tragic? Gabrielle never got to bemusedly meet her granddaughter. Lestat never got to hold Claudia up like in the Lion King and go "Maman look what I made :)))))) didn't I do good, isn't she GREAT??? you're a GRANDMERE now. :)))))" Gabrielle never got to yeet him through a wall about it as a Bonding Activity with Claudia. huge huge huge tragedy

[sharkbath]

The Baron calling The Sire just a roommate was thoroughly devastating to me as someone who completely believes they are ancient husbands but it got saved by this line at the end.

[nothing-but-paisley]

i've been thinking a lot about how a big part of the appeal of the Vampire Chronicles is that they basically feel like outsider art. They're imperfect and messy and the product of a DEEPLY idiosyncratic mind. Weird, horny shit happens with no apparent rhyme or reason. Parts of these books read like My Immortal but with better prose (in a good way).

A watsonian reason for this could be that they're written by vampires who don't think or experience time like mortals do and/or have any idea how a book works. I mean, do we really think Lestat is outlining his shit lol. This also explains why Interview is the most "literary," 3-act-structure having one, as it was compiled by human Daniel.

These bad boys don't provide anything so mundane as "satisfying" narrative beats or linear character arcs. Everyone's just circling the trauma vortex. Wondering what's going on with the wider vampire world in the wake of QotD? Too bad, enjoy a hallucinatory theological treatise in which Lestat Does Dante. You want a devil's minion reunion that isn't a throwaway line? Lol, fuck you, here's three hundred pages of Replimoids and also ghosts and also a guy who is a spirit made out of bees. Nobody learns anything. The world never stops being a Savage Garden. I think this is what makes the world of these books feel so vivid and "real." There's nothing sanitized about them and they're often incredibly frustrating. They are so utterly, breathtakingly bizarre.

I think about how these books were monster bestsellers thirty years ago and can't help feeling a little sad because I doubt mainstream audiences would tolerate this level of weirdness today.

[lalosalamcnca]

[ditch-lily]

doodled some 1970s and 80s armand fits

[shopwitchvamp]

Today's restock is live now!

🖤witchvamp.com🖤

[mysteriousdoll]

Every time I come across @/mickules posts with Takaaki I am reminded how friggen tall he is… add Taka having Celeste’s height, and they’re just. wow. Also Taka did nothing wrong, Mondo made an innuendo not knowing Takaaki was in hearing range. (If he did know he wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t polite bc demon cop scary)

[squirrellypoo]

19 year old Jacob Anderson, on set of "4.3.2.1" in 2010. 🥹