#PRINCELETS. INDEPENDENT & PRIVATE SEBASTIAN LACROIX OF WHITE WOLF PUBLISHING'S VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE. BELOVED & BELOATHED BY SOLEIL. 21+ ONLY.
ㅤAFFILIATES. 80sPOLAROID.
𝖎. DOSSIER. 𝖎𝖎. PROMPTS. 𝖎𝖎𝖎. MULTIMUSE. 𝖎𝖛. ART CREDIT.
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
One Nice Bug Per Day
noise dept.
Claire Keane
No title available
styofa doing anything
No title available
DEAR READER
taylor price
Cosimo Galluzzi
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Cosmic Funnies
KIROKAZE
we're not kids anymore.

#extradirty
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
ojovivo

Kiana Khansmith
Today's Document
sheepfilms

seen from Canada
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from Peru
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany

seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Canada

seen from Japan

seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
@unprinced
#PRINCELETS. INDEPENDENT & PRIVATE SEBASTIAN LACROIX OF WHITE WOLF PUBLISHING'S VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE. BELOVED & BELOATHED BY SOLEIL. 21+ ONLY.
ㅤAFFILIATES. 80sPOLAROID.
𝖎. DOSSIER. 𝖎𝖎. PROMPTS. 𝖎𝖎𝖎. MULTIMUSE. 𝖎𝖛. ART CREDIT.
nobody is going to take him from u honey you can loosen your death grip / @unprinced
RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE (2023) dir. Matthew López
⭒˚。🖁‧₊˚ 〖 down these mean streets . . . 〗 a collection of scene prompts inspired by n͟e͟o͟-n͟o͟i͟r͟, v͟i͟o͟l͟e͟n͟c͟e͟, c͟o͟n͟t͟r͟o͟l͟, e͟t͟c͟. some prompts usfw. add +reversed for the receiving muse to be "the sender" instead. adjust details as necessary.
dead end. there's nowhere left to run; the sender has cornered you at last. anonymous. disguising your voice, you call the sender to threaten/warn them. loose ends. you thought you killed them! but there's the sender, walking your way. ashtray. your cigarette smokes as you extinguish it on the sender's skin. deck. you lick the sender's blood from your knuckles, still stinging from the punch. backstab. end of the road, pal—you reveal you're double-crossing the sender. blunt. hidden in the shadows, you press your gun to the sender's back.
heel. you stare at the sender from across the room and beckon them to you. fix. not looking like that—disapproving, you fix the sender's appearance. tilt. you take the sender's chin in your hand and make them meet your gaze. staccato. irritated, the sender drums their fingers against you beneath the table. listen. the sender disobeys and you swat their curious hand away. fasten. just something i picked up—you clasp a necklace/tie/etc. on the sender. quiet. you press a finger to the sender's lips and tell them to be patient.
doodles done for @princelets because #obsessed
@princelets LEFT A MESSAGE AFTER THE TONE: 04. runs fingers through their hair in efforts to soothe.
SO THIS IS HOW HE DIES: face down on the dirt, body mauled and trembling from mind numbing pain --- an inch away from final death's doorstep, on the side of a middle of nowhere country road, after getting into a brutal match of strength with a full blown insane conspiracy theory believing werewolf when they had, on impulse, decided taking a lesser known route would be safer into the next state.
' they ' being him and lacroix, the latter who he made stay in the car while he dealt with the tank with fur that decided to tailgate them for ten miles --- who now he can see the outline of approaching his prone body through the blur of his muddling vision. the beast within rages against its cage, panicking and thrashing: don't do it, not like this, you're better than this.
weakly, sharp nails dig into the earth in the attempt to help long arms push his body up --- to show strength he didn't have, to show he wasn't an easy target. only to be unable to support his own weight, slumping back down promptly with a sound akin to a dog growling.
hepburn thinks of all the cases of diablerie he's investigated, solved, then studied the case files over time and time again: decides here, almost instantly, that he can't blame lacroix if the act is truly as addicting as described, and at the end of it all it was the nosferatu who truly, knowingly, took the risk. part of him wants to stop fighting against the weight of torpor that's rapidly approaching in the attempt to make it easier, to be unaware as it happened --- the more stubborn part of him refuses to die without making direct eye contact with his doom, however. has to watch as lacroix finally comes upon him, has to watch as the venture crouches down ... has to watch as he panics, flounders, looking at the freshly mangled and thankfully still corpse of the werewolf then back to the nosferatu.
there's no hunger in his expression, which hepburn is so focused on that he misses the pale hand reaching out for his head --- lithe fingers tangling in the thickness of his hair, trying to be gentle with the brittle and stiff strands. the beast stalls in the panic to survive, for once reacting the same as hepburn does as they both watch lacroix's lips frantically move with words that can't be heard over the deafening thrum of torpor, that finally --- almost blissfully knocks the nosferatu out cold.
with the last recalled emotion he felt being relief.
FIFTEEN MINUTES FROM SISTERS, OREGON. Fifteen minutes from civilization, from civilization that could be razed by the wrath of a werewolf in a frenzied rage, all humanity lost. And that was the werewolf tailgating them — a werewolf in a frenzied rage, an animal who would rend the town of Sisters asunder, an animal who would rend Hepburn and LaCroix asunder. And there Hepburn lies: bloodied and bruised and face, beautiful face, in the dirt, rent asunder, the werewolf nothing more than a bloodied heap of flesh nearby, tufts of fur torn from the lupine's body by Hepburn's hands and claws dandelion clouds in the night wind. Beneath a pallid hand threading through hairspray'd, eternally purple hair, Hepburn stills. Not dead, LaCroix knows, but there's enough affection, ridiculous affection, welling within LaCroix for the Nosferatu that a panic seizes the Ventrue regardless. Torpor, and Hepburn is more human than LaCroix would ever be. Still, LaCroix is afraid. It's not without difficulty that LaCroix gathers Hepburn's gangling body into the backseat. It's not without difficulty that LaCroix retrieves a hunting knife from the trunk and splits the soft, tender flesh of the lupine's throat in two, sawing to and through the bone with gritted teeth and blood spatter until the head separates from the neck and with a sickening sound. It's hideously spiteful, beheading and desecrating the corpse. But it felt right. It felt good, the little revenge. He takes a picture with Hepburn's polaroid. A cabin outside of Salem, not too far from the city but certainly not too close, is where LaCroix settles, all two and a half meters of Hepburn carried 'cross the threshold bridal style and tucked into bed following a drip fed dinner of a blood bag. He would return the favor, in bed and curled 'round Hepburn's corpse-like form whilst Wheel of Fortune airs on the television. He would return the favor. ( He hadn't thought once of diablerie. )
ㅤRE: "THAT I WAS TOO WEAK TO FIGHT BACK? TO SAVE HIM?" ㅤCC: @mkoshi.
THERE'S A PERSISTENT, PAINFUL ACHE WITHIN LACROIX'S HOLLOW CHEST. What a nuisance is it, thin blood, a pulsing, albeit weakly, heart. What a nuisance it is, experiencing half humanity after a millennia of a still, pulseless heart. But how horrifying it was millennia ago, experiencing the death of humanity, the slowing and stopping of a heart, the existence of the need to breathe, the need to sleep, the need to eat ceasing to be. The memory of Embrace is burnt into LaCroix's memory, the agony, the horror, the anguish that'd settled into LaCroix's body and bones and exists there even now. He'd been abandoned, scorned by the man who'd sired him and left to rot. Stevie had been abandoned, too, by her sire but most painfully by the death of her beloved whose blood is crusted in her engagement ring. "The only ones at fault are the foul Kindred who feed off of fear and suffering and siring childer only to abandon." LaCroix may no longer be affiliated with nor agree with most of the Camarilla's practices, but executing Kindred who forsake their fledgling childer to Final Death — that LaCroix still agrees with. He sets a tentative hand against Stevie's shoulder. "And we will find your sire and all those who participated in your Embrace and the death of your fiancé, that I promise you." As soon as LaCroix's hand settles against Stevie's shoulder, however, Sebastian's withdrawing and standing from the sofa. "First, though, you need to feed. I have blood bags," he says, walking to the kitchen. "We don't eat the Kine. We drink their blood. It is a painless, at times ... euphoric experience for the human." Walking to the kitchen, where a blood bag sits in a bain-marie. "But blood bags are a suitable substitution, if not as fresh," Sebastian, frowning, casts a look over his shoulder at Stevie still on the couch, "Come here."
@princelets, sc.
there is a carefulness to his movements as the blinds are slightly lifted. the time on his recently purchased mobile phone signifies that the evening has arrived, but out of habit, his attentiveness persists. the city continues to breathe, some might say, even more so at this hour. perhaps, that is why it is easy to simply not miss what happens in the day, when so much can occur within one night. phyre casts a glance towards his companion - it is not often that he brings another back to one of his havens. no, in fact, he has not had to entertain a guest in well over a century. he is, after all, a man who values his privacy. his skills as a host are certainly lacking, for he has not even offered the other a drink. " .. if you are thirsty, i have recently acquired a bottle of gaja barbaresco. " he decides that the means of acquiring such a delicacy is best left unexplained.
"GAJA BARBARESCO — HOW FANCY." LaCroix's grinning, fangs glinting in the moonlight glistering through the windows and setting Phyre's manor aglow. A fool LaCroix would have to be to not read the innuendo, and a fool LaCroix is, well, no longer. "I'm fine, thank you. Though I may have a sample soon." No longer a fool mesmerized and enthralled by Kindred politics but forever a Ventrue with the taste of a king. A bit of a fool, then, with blood. Mesmerized and enthralled by Kindred politics, however, is why LaCroix is in Phyre's haven in Seattle: to inquire. "You're the Sheriff, yes?" LaCroix asks, legs crossed and leaning back against the sofa. He tilts his head. "Are you with the Camarilla?"
Darling, what a surprise
Every time I look at my cat's reflective eyes I think about LaCroix.
"I've met others like you, and they have always ultimately come to the same conclusion, and that is, there is no person or group on this planet they can pledge loyalty to."
HEPBURN'S PROBLEM IS THAT HE LIKES INFORMATION TOO MUCH: lacroix has information, keys to closure hepburn didn't think to demand for in that forsaken office after clawing his way through multiple floors, knowledge that would have been harder to trowel for if he left the venture to the fire in that shattered apart skeleton of a building. sure, that's what his problem is ... that is what he's consciously labeling it despite knowing damn well what his actual problem was --- ( kindred with too much humanity get killed just as easily as those who let the beast run wild )
" you sound surprised. " the man in a monster's body flatly notes, voice monotone as always --- though it's noticeably dryer, more stiff, now as he stares down at the former prince with observant eyes in the inky darkness of the room. poor bastard probably was surprised: he was out cold in torpor when the nosferatu (stupidly, insanely, fighting frenzy every step of the way as fire spread) pulled him from the remains of venture tower, was still deep in unconscious when hepburn held him though the cab ride out of los angles and into sausalito and has stayed barely responsive for the past two nights as hepburn worked from the same room for them both to simply stay unnoticed --- leaving once to catch rats for himself so that stashed blood bags could remain for the venture.
speaking of: knife - like fingers carefully set a blood bag near the pillow by the venture's pale head --- warmed not by body heat but from boiled water in a pot and careful seeping after making sure the heat wouldn't melt the thin plastic of the bag. warm blood energizes better, though it's not fresh. " here, you look like you're about to eat yourself. "
if not himself then certainly hepburn, knowing lacroix's track record now. though hepburn doubts the venture could even lift himself to sit up on the bed right now, let alone lunge at the much taller nosferatu.
TO SAY LACROIX IS SURPRISED IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT — Had LaCroix's heart not ceased to function more than a century before, the astonishment at having survived, rescued from the burning and bombed ruins of Ventrue Towers by Hepburn's merciful hand clawed and snarled but so human, so holy, that it burnt to the touch, certainly would have caused it to fail, seize with an emotion and a fear indescribable. Had LaCroix's heart not ceased to function more than a century before, but there's a strange, foreign fluttering within a should be vacant chest. "I am surprised," LaCroix says, voice vulnerable and unrecognizable and mortifying. A caricature, a bloody caricature, of Sebastian LaCroix, all but sniveling. A caricature of a caricature. To say LaCroix is surprised is an understatement, but not so surprised that the blood bag isn't that of blood in the water to a shark. Sebastian swarms, teeth piercing and sinking into the plastic and sucking the blood almost animalistic — more animal than man, LaCroix's been for the better part of two painful centuries, being more monster than man needed to survive a cruel father and a crueler sire, to survive the streets, to survive Aloÿs LaCroix and the Camarilla. With Hepburn, LaCroix hadn't needed to be a monster. And that'd scared him more than anything. It's the plasma allowing LaCroix to sit upright in bed, blankets bunched now in an all but bare lap, briefs and an undershirt all that was left of the attire he thought he'd die for the final time in. A fine suit, he was wearing, though surely burnt and threadbare from the fire. Hepburn had undressed him because Hepburn — beautiful, beautiful Hepburn so devastatingly alive — couldn't fathom him lying there uncomfortable. He's standing, then, or trying to. "I can't be here." He hopes Hepburn will strike him down for trying to run away. He knows, dully, that Hepburn won't. He knows, too, that it's ridiculous to try to run, knees weak trembling, white knuckling the nightstand. "Why did you—?" Not leave me there?
a treacherous liaison
LACROIX'S CANON STORYLINE —
LaCroix was, in fact, working with Ming Xiao and those who experienced the Second Breath, however LaCroix's alliance with Xiao was not with the intention of disposing of the Anarchs: LaCroix's intentions were to dispose of the primogen. Why do I say that LaCroix's intentions didn't lie with eliminating the Anarchs? LaCroix failed to enact a Blood Hunt on Nines — he contradicts himself by mentioning that "there is no Blood Hunt on Nines" while also stating, in the same conversation, that the Blood Hunt would be called off, but I believe that the Blood Hunt was discussed, not truly enacted — which would have been an easy way to dispose of the Anarchs' leader without truly bloodying his own hands, thus sending the Anarchs into turmoil. If not a Blood Hunt, LaCroix could have sent The Sheriff to deal with Nines, or perhaps even enlisted the help of the Camarilla, but he instead allowed Nines to escape and did not further pursue Nines until the end. LaCroix will inform a Fledgling with high persuasion that he was working with Xiao solely to eliminate the Anarchs, but I believe that was a lie he told to Xiao. LaCroix's end of the bargain in their alliance, so to speak. He didn't intend to follow through with what he promised, although I do think LaCroix would have eliminated the Anarchs if that were necessary. THE ANARCHS WERE NOT LACROIX'S MAIN CONCERN — THE CAMARILLA WERE. The Camarilla elders not only regarded LaCroix with contempt, but LaCroix's past of diablerie were drawing closer and closer to the surface.
"Remember how once we were?" — Nosferatu (2024), dir. Robert Eggers
#PRINCELETS. INDEPENDENT & PRIVATE SEBASTIAN LACROIX OF WHITE WOLF PUBLISHING'S VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE. BELOVED & BELOATHED BY SOLEIL. MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE. 21+
HYSTERICAL ( YOU KNOW WHERE YOU ARE ) USELESS
✱ ˚。⋆ ↪ MORBID CURIOSITY ... [ REMASTERED ] ( a collection of various original dialogue prompts centered around asking questions. adjust phrasing / gendered terms as necessary. )
give that to me! where did you find this?!
do you drink coffee or tea?
sorry– am i crazy, or have we met before?
do you trust me enough to close your eyes?
when were you planning on telling me?
at the risk of being a cliché, do you want to get out of here?
can i convince you to stay the night?
do i look like someone who knows what that means?
would you consider giving me a second chance?
do you really think that's helpful right now?
would you mind showing me around?
do you ever plan on forgiving yourself?
are you thinking what i'm thinking?
can we ... go out and do something crazy?
why are we whispering?
who exactly are you, anyways?
can't we just be civil for a minute?
does the past ever keep you up at night?
if you have nothing to hide, what's the problem?
how long has it been since i saw you last, [ name ]?
did the power just go out?
are we still doing the thing where we pretend not to care?
how should we celebrate?
can we just ... start over?
why is this so important to you?
how was i supposed to know that?!
do you want me to stay? it doesn't have to mean anything.
where are you? nobody's heard from you.
can you help me zip this up?
why do these things always happen to me?
you don't secretly hate me, right?
can i get you something to eat? –or drink?
ready to see what i've been working on?
where have you been disappearing off to?
what's that perfume you're wearing?
you're laughing?! do you really think this is funny?
are you planning to stay for dinner?
did you think it was going to be easy?
you see where you went wrong, don't you?
when did we become so cold and distant?
who are you working for?
did you really do all of this for me?
can i open my eyes yet?
haven't you heard the stories?
[ name ], what are you doing here?
what's it gonna take for you to trust me?
do you believe people can change?
how about we catch the ten o'clock showing?
don't you remember what happened last time?
why is it so unbelievable that i'd want to help you?
you're [ name ], aren't you?
who did this to you?!
how did you know i'd be here?
what's that supposed to mean?
do you think i'm irredeemable?
what kind of mess have you gotten us into?!
do you see anything you like?
what do i owe you for the food?
why won't this stupid thing work?!
does tonight really have to end?
holy shit. can you believe we really pulled that off?!
i can tell you're upset, [ name ]. what happened?
how long have you been standing there?
do you ever wish you could just ... run away?
haven't we been here before?
wait, shush ... did you hear that?
did i miss today's newsletter or something?
can we put our differences aside for a second?
what are you getting out of this, exactly?
you'd tell me if something was wrong, right?
are you willing to bet on it?
would you kill for me?
what made you think that was okay?!
do you believe people can change?
what's the worst thing you've ever done?
you were going to leave without saying goodbye?
[ name ], can you sit up for me?
can i kiss you?
where are your keys? you're not driving like this.
how's life been treating you?
where have you been?!
aren't we supposed to be alone tonight?
aw, has someone had a little too much to drink?
where are you going with this?
are we really doing this right now?
have you eaten today?
can i crash here for the night?
how did you learn to lie so well?
can i at least buy you a drink?
where should i meet you?
is that ... blood?!
are you trying to make me jealous right now?
what’s your problem? you're acting weird.
[ name ], you're ... real, right?
where’s your sense of adventure?
do you like horror movies?
what are you trying to prove?
can you give me a ride?
do you have any idea what you've done?
shouldn't you answer that?
why should i be the one to calm down?
have you been up all night?
why are you lying to me?
is that my [ jacket / hoodie / shirt ]?
what are you so afraid of?
do you want to grow old with me?
you’re gonna walk away from this?
are you nervous? your hands are shaking.
where am i supposed to go?
how many fingers am i holding up?
you want me to just walk away from this?
[ name ], slow down– what's wrong?!
are you embarrassed of me?
what's that smell? something's burning.
how can i make it up to you?
why can't you stay out of it?
is this some kind of trick?
come on, what do you have to lose?
do you ever still think of me?
idiot. why didn't you tell me?!
can we stop and think about this rationally?
how long has it been since you’ve slept?
what's your ideal first date?
are you ready to tell me the truth?
i almost died, and you're laughing?
what do you mean, "sort of"?
can we just stay like this forever?
when can i see you again?
can we put this behind us?
oh ... you thought of me first?
where did you learn to do that?
oh my god, are you bleeding?!
where are you? nobody’s heard from you.
[ name ], are you drunk?
how can i make this go away?
someone's jumpy today. are you feeling okay?
are we safe here?
what can i do to convince you?
what could possibly go wrong?
you have no idea who i am, do you?
how do you really feel about me?
why can't you look me in the eyes?
did you know you talk in your sleep?
were you following me?
can we just pretend this never happened?
are you just barely getting home?
are you even listening to me right now?!
where does it hurt? can you show me?
are you trying to get yourself killed?!
how about we just forget the world exists?
how long have you been keeping this from me?
were you ever going to tell me?
what do you make of this?
[ name ], what the hell?!
can we just be honest with each other, here?
are you trying to keep me a secret?
why does your story keep changing?
how long have you known?
it can't be that bad, right?
are you happy? i mean, really happy?
isn't this place amazing?
did i interrupt something?
how am i supposed to trust you?
are they still following us?
are you fucking serious?
do you remember our first kiss?
can we take a break for a minute?
how about we disappear for awhile?
you're going to walk away from this?
can you please just cut the crap?!
why didn't you tell me you were hurt?
how can i make this go away?
can you just look at me, please?
is there anything i can do to change your mind?
do you ever stop talking?
that depends. are you done lying to me?
are you sure this is legal?
how do you take your coffee?
can you keep your voice down?
why does your phone keep buzzing?