Apr 22
I had to pause here because my eyes got so watery from the tears that I couldn't even see what I was watching.
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Bulgaria
seen from China
seen from France
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from India
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Mexico
seen from India
seen from Australia
I had to pause here because my eyes got so watery from the tears that I couldn't even see what I was watching.
New Icon time!
What better way to celebrate the upcoming season 3 and pay tribute to my husband and the best version of Lestat : The Wolfkiller
(My humble opinion ofc)
Commissioned art by GrieveGarden on twit/Bsky
💚Reblogs are fine/Do NOT repost 🚫
Brave. Not stubborn.
I'm reading The Vampire Lestat and its making me so sad about him. I love Lelio the Wolfkiller so much.
(feel free to comment btw I love comments!)
Ask for it Wolfkiller, and you will live forever . . .
What are the scars???? Those don't look old enough to be when he was human, but would he scar like that as a vampire?
I'm so curious too, anon! They could be self-inflicted or inflicted by other vampires or even be the result of him doing something crazy for his performance, which he does in the 1700s when he tries to act again after being turned, but looking at them in the context of the article, I'm kind of wondering if the wolfkiller sequence is going to be intercut with a performance in a traditional musical style and that those scars might appear during the flashback/performance and disappear afterwards? They really do look most likely to be claw scars to me.
“And the only sound in the empty snow-covered valley was my own breathing and the rattling shriek of my dying mare who lay yards away from me. I'm not sure I had my reason. I'm not sure the things that went through my mind were thoughts. I wanted to drop down in the snow, and yet I was walking away from the dead wolves towards the dying horse. As I came close to her, she lifted her neck, straining to rise up on her front legs, and gave one of those shrill trumpeting pleas again. The sound bounced off the mountains. It seemed to reach heaven. And I stood staring at her, staring at her dark broken body against the whiteness of the snow, the dead hindquarters and the struggling forelegs, the nose lifted skyward, ears pressed back, and the huge innocent eyes rolling up into her head as the rattling cry came out of her. She was like an insect half mashed into a floor, but she was no insect. She was my struggling, suffering mare. She tried to lift herself again. I took my rifle from the saddle. I loaded it. And as she lay tossing her head, trying vainly to lift herself once more with that shrill trumpeting, I shot her through the heart.
Now she looked all right. She lay still and dead and the blood ran out of her and the valley was quiet.”
Well this was a fail. I joined all the failures together. I especially like the last one, because it was like 8am & the cleaner who I chat with walked down the corridor & saw/heard me & exclaimed happily “Oh! It’s Tuesday!” And laughs. I don’t know if you can hear her. Anyway, I stood stock still & silent for a bit & smiled for her… (she might have come in the room as she sometimes does) BUT I had been trying to play music for a dying horse & she was like “Ooohhhh, HAPPYYYY!” 😭💀🫠🫥
I’m gonna need Wolfkiller Sam Reid to be absolutely FERAL.