apoptoses

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New (!) old photo of Jimmy!! Meeting Liza Minnelli at Studio 54 in New York, December 1977. He was just 17 years old here!

#reverse dm au where daniel is the perpetual 17 year old #anyways what an angel #can't believe this baby faced boy went on to give us bangers like crash and secretary

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Sarpédon (1874)

— by Henri Levy

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got an addiction to sad weird guys unfortunately

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@monstersinthecosmos pls i like to picture that sculpture in my head as something like this peacock

what are the odds that daniel stayed at a hotel that folds towels into swans and leaves them on your bed, and armand saw them and got obsessed

and so for weeks after daniel would wake up in their apartment with every towel in the place staring at him like

#heavy emphasis on the cock part of peacock #outstanding i cannot believe i forgot about that comment story lmao

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wow 10/10 cursed 70s looking sticker eyes

also the random purse among these animals?? that's just showing off, incredible

what are the odds that daniel stayed at a hotel that folds towels into swans and leaves them on your bed, and armand saw them and got obsessed

and so for weeks after daniel would wake up in their apartment with every towel in the place staring at him like

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i need to know what cursed brochure he's holding like

did he steal brochures from a doctor's office and now daniel has to disassemble a towel platypus holding threatening information on prostate exams

is it a travel brochure for new orleans to give daniel ptsd flashbacks to the time armand locked him in a basement

is it an advertisement for coffins hoping to freak daniel out but accidentally getting his hopes up that he'll be turned soon

inquiring minds demand 2 know

what are the odds that daniel stayed at a hotel that folds towels into swans and leaves them on your bed, and armand saw them and got obsessed

and so for weeks after daniel would wake up in their apartment with every towel in the place staring at him like

#also the fact that it's sitting on the toilet #and daniel would have to move it out of the way #and like it set it on the sink #so it stares at him until he's done and can deal with it #incredible what a find

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what are the odds that daniel stayed at a hotel that folds towels into swans and leaves them on your bed, and armand saw them and got obsessed

and so for weeks after daniel would wake up in their apartment with every towel in the place staring at him like

#armand learning to make increasingly ornate towel animals is now my hyperfixation #i saw one folded to look like a sloth and clipped onto a hanger #so it was dangling like a real sloth #i just think he'd be insane over this concept #there's at least one apartment abandoned in nyc where the entire interior is just a towel animal zoo #vc headcanons #armand/daniel

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Armand lived in Venice during the absolute sluttiest period for mens’ clothes and I gotta talk about it.

Anne constantly used Botticelli as a reference for clothes (who was at his peak in the 1470s/1480s) but Armand was in Florence when Savonarola died, which puts him in Venice the late 1490′s. Fashion was moving fast, there was a big moral panic over society falling apart and becoming too secular, and in Venice it was time to let your inner ho out.

The look: Short. Tight. Made of as many expensive scraps as possible.

Let’s get into it.

Keep reading

#bringing this bad boy back #because we all deserve to picture amadeo and marius in their natural habitat #not in body obscuring puffy pants and peascod doublets #or in the tunics of botticelli's times #but in painted on wool and silk that leaves nothing to the imagination #godspeed and do with this info what you will #vc meta #armand

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Words: 10k Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Armand/Lestat de Lioncourt Characters: Armand, Lestat de Lioncourt Additional Tags: Armand's Unethical Dentistry, canon-compliant smut, Medical Kink, Blood Sharing Summary:

“Stay still.” Armand snaps the second Lestat’s claws begin to scratch at the vinyl arm rests. Does it hurt?

No. Yes. No. I don’t know. Lestat’s thoughts are scrambling as his breath becomes quicker, in and out of his nose like a panting dog.

“Does it hurt, or is it just sensitive, Lestat?” Armand asks the question out loud, and only then does Lestat realize he cannot hear him over the rasping, labored breaths heaving from his chest.

I do not like to repeat myself. Does it hurt, or is it just sensitive?

It’s sensitive! He throws the words into Armand’s mind like a high-pitched whine.

“Alright.” Armand nods. “Tell me when it hurts, then.”

[READ ON AO3]

#i'm screaming at the top of my lungs i cannot deal!!! #this is SO GOOD if you're a med fetish freak you gotta read it #i never imagined a dental check up could be so horny or emotional #lestat/armand #vc fic

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I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S HERE!!! I didn’t have time to read it over the weekend and it might take me a few days to finish it (you might say I want to take my time to ahem, savor it 😋), but I WILL be back with many thots 💭

So excited to read it and so so grateful for your presence in the fandom! I hope you know how truly loved, cherished and admired you are around these parts. Tumblr’s favorite fr fr xoxo DA 🩷🩷🩷

I was genuinely on the edge of taking it down but I will leave it just for you DA 😂

But thank you, things have been rough so I appreciate the kind words 🩷 Engagement and interaction has just been so sporadic anymore, and sometimes in the dry periods it's hard to remember anyone cares or that creative stuff makes an impact. So I appreciate you always coming around to share your thoughts, it really means so much 😭

#apoptoses answers #dungeon anon

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the way my hormones are acting up and have me ready to delete everything

#i mean i WONT but like #i'm just sad! lmao

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It’s rare that he gets to see Daniel’s first meal of the day. He’s picked through his memories, he knows that on the Night Island he tends to wake in the afternoon, stumble down to the kitchen to graze. Daniel takes advantage of the ability to call their private chefs in to make him bacon, eggs. Food that sits heavy on his stomach so that he has to wander back to bed to sleep off the rest of the day. After that it doesn’t much matter, Daniel thinks. He’ll get Armand’s blood and that’s enough to hold him over. A cycle of snacking and blood sharing that repeats and repeats and repeats.

“LIsten, we need to make a pact,” Daniel mumbles between bites. “No more west-bound long haul flights. At least not without a couple days between each layover.”

Armand frowns. “Was it so burdensome to fly without me beside you?” 

It had been odd, departing in the evening in the cargo hold, trapped within the box that contained his coffin. Moving backwards through time. To leave in the dark but arrive in the middle of the morning- it creates a certain kind of inertia, he finds. 

Perhaps it’s what they mean when they say ‘jet lagged’. All of that effort to only be in a place for a week and then they’ll be moving on. Tickets to Thailand, to Nepal, to Greece. They wait in Daniel’s bag. More travel, pre-planned, predestined. A time limit on every stop. Armand wonders how exhausted they’ll both be by the end. 

Daniel spears a vegetable on his fork. He shrugs. “I don’t like it. Being without you.”

Without the blood.

This too, Armand recognizes from his youth. The ravenous fits that come between the tastes of blood. He remembers clearly being sixteen and not eating for days after the drinks his master had given him, and then falling upon the table and out eating all of the other boys.

There’s hollows beneath Daniel’s eyes. A sharpness to his cheekbones that hadn’t been there when they’d met, and perhaps that’s a sign of the march of time- he is, after all, creeping up on thirty now; no longer the wide eyed boy Armand had met but a man in his own right. But then-

His spoon clacks against the glass parfait cup. Daniel digs in straight to the bottom where the ice cream is, bypassing the fruit and whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Somewhere near his lap comes the sound of his insides churning. The wet sound of his stomach straining to accommodate that which he hasn’t consumed in- days? Weeks, perhaps. Armand can’t keep track.

He should be doing better than this. He ought to be taking better care of him but Daniel makes it so hard. The world makes it hard, with how anything and everything can catch his fascination. Like right now.

Something bubbles beneath the surface of him. A desire he can’t quite put a name to, a thread he’ll have to pull at until Daniel unwinds and he understands what it is that he seeks. Some unfinished business from the Copley, perhaps. The meal wherein he’d fed Daniel a bit of everything, only to depart before he could see the effect it had upon him.

There’s so much more he understands about Daniel now. And still so much to find out. He’ll never know him intimately enough.

Armand rests his chin on his hand. He takes in the way Daniel’s tongue sticks out the slightest bit when the spoon nears his mouth, the bob of his adam’s apple when he swallows. Daniel licks an errant blob of whipped cream from his upper lip and it leaves his mouth glossy with his saliva.

[AO3]

#evening reblog #in case anyone missed this on the weekend #vc fic #armand/daniel #devil's minion #apoptoses fic

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Send me a ship and a sentence, I'll write the next five

Head over to the ask box and go crazy guys!

#reblogging one more time!! #i got a couple prompts but would take a couple more #vc askgame

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The vampires got a cat PART 3/3 😺🦇

#his little gloves!!! #his cozy scarf!!! #i need it to be winter again this looks so idyllic #not to mention CAT i love this cat with its cravat!!!! #very armand to put that on a cat #vc fanart

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Armandand Daniel were hanging out but Danny got a phone call.

Comic for @monstersinthecosmos

#i love this so much i can't deal #vc fanart

[apoptoses]

Send me a ship and a sentence, I'll write the next five

Head over to the ask box and go crazy guys!

#this was so fun last year i wanna do it again #i can't promise i'll do all of them but #i wanna do some short things with no pressure #and maybe some fluffy stuff to make up the angst i just dropped lmao #vc askgame

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It’s rare that he gets to see Daniel’s first meal of the day. He’s picked through his memories, he knows that on the Night Island he tends to wake in the afternoon, stumble down to the kitchen to graze. Daniel takes advantage of the ability to call their private chefs in to make him bacon, eggs. Food that sits heavy on his stomach so that he has to wander back to bed to sleep off the rest of the day. After that it doesn’t much matter, Daniel thinks. He’ll get Armand’s blood and that’s enough to hold him over. A cycle of snacking and blood sharing that repeats and repeats and repeats.

“LIsten, we need to make a pact,” Daniel mumbles between bites. “No more west-bound long haul flights. At least not without a couple days between each layover.”

Armand frowns. “Was it so burdensome to fly without me beside you?” 

It had been odd, departing in the evening in the cargo hold, trapped within the box that contained his coffin. Moving backwards through time. To leave in the dark but arrive in the middle of the morning- it creates a certain kind of inertia, he finds. 

Perhaps it’s what they mean when they say ‘jet lagged’. All of that effort to only be in a place for a week and then they’ll be moving on. Tickets to Thailand, to Nepal, to Greece. They wait in Daniel’s bag. More travel, pre-planned, predestined. A time limit on every stop. Armand wonders how exhausted they’ll both be by the end. 

Daniel spears a vegetable on his fork. He shrugs. “I don’t like it. Being without you.”

Without the blood.

This too, Armand recognizes from his youth. The ravenous fits that come between the tastes of blood. He remembers clearly being sixteen and not eating for days after the drinks his master had given him, and then falling upon the table and out eating all of the other boys.

There’s hollows beneath Daniel’s eyes. A sharpness to his cheekbones that hadn’t been there when they’d met, and perhaps that’s a sign of the march of time- he is, after all, creeping up on thirty now; no longer the wide eyed boy Armand had met but a man in his own right. But then-

His spoon clacks against the glass parfait cup. Daniel digs in straight to the bottom where the ice cream is, bypassing the fruit and whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Somewhere near his lap comes the sound of his insides churning. The wet sound of his stomach straining to accommodate that which he hasn’t consumed in- days? Weeks, perhaps. Armand can’t keep track.

He should be doing better than this. He ought to be taking better care of him but Daniel makes it so hard. The world makes it hard, with how anything and everything can catch his fascination. Like right now.

Something bubbles beneath the surface of him. A desire he can’t quite put a name to, a thread he’ll have to pull at until Daniel unwinds and he understands what it is that he seeks. Some unfinished business from the Copley, perhaps. The meal wherein he’d fed Daniel a bit of everything, only to depart before he could see the effect it had upon him.

There’s so much more he understands about Daniel now. And still so much to find out. He’ll never know him intimately enough.

Armand rests his chin on his hand. He takes in the way Daniel’s tongue sticks out the slightest bit when the spoon nears his mouth, the bob of his adam’s apple when he swallows. Daniel licks an errant blob of whipped cream from his upper lip and it leaves his mouth glossy with his saliva.

[AO3]

#hahaha this took forever fuck #i didn't expect feeding kink to turn into 14k #still didn't do the bonus scene maybe i will if there's enough interest #armand/daniel #devil's minion #vampire chronicles #vc fic #apoptoses fic