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#anyway i love claudia

ovenproofowl · 2 years

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OKAY OKAY but the way Louis is split in two with both Claudia and Lestat trying to vie for his attention, for his love, but Claudia is able to jump into his mind, to ask him to come with her without Lestat hearing, and that’s the moment Lestat calls him Lou, because he sees him looking towards her and he has no idea what she’s telling him but he knows he’s losing him to her. And how that desperation immediately turns to rage, to blame, to accusation. By turning them both, he’s turned them both against him, he can’t read them, can’t understand them as deeply as they understand each other, and it’s only when Claudia says out loud so he can hear exactly what she wants him to: Come with me. Let’s be vampires worthy of your love. That he truly snaps.

Lestat knows he’s lost. Has known it for all the time Louis had spent searching restlessly for Claudia’s mind.

And the conclusion to this rage, with Lestat and Louis flown out far into the sky, so far away that Lestat hopes no other mind can reach Louis’. So that Claudia can’t hear. So that they’re truly alone. And he finally admits just how deeply his love for Louis reaches, and just how fine a thread he’s been clinging to coming to terms with the fact that perhaps Louis doesn’t love him, may never have loved him, in the way that he loves him.

And yet even in that moment with Louis half drained and gasping the frigid thin air, with Lestat begging him to just admit it, that he doesn’t love him, Louis... doesn’t. Instead he says let go of me. And I wonder, perhaps, what Lestat hears in that, what those words connote for him. Is Louis only asking to be put down, or is he asking Lestat to let go of this obsession with him? That change in Lestat’s eyes, the bitterness of not getting a solid answer but still coming to some sort of conclusion sells it for him. So, when he drops Louis, it’s as performative as any other gesture.

He may want Louis to feel that he is done with him, but that will never be true.

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv spoilers #1x05 #loustat #a vile hunger for your hammering heart #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #claudia #i cannot encapsulate just how spectacular their dynamic is to me #and then of course you have louis' retellings in the present day absolutely hammering home that this performance of disconnect is a two way #street. that neither one will ever be done with the other.#he loves lestat too but the fact that they can't read each other's minds can't know each others thoughts puts that wedge between them #CONSTANTLY. they spend an endless dance of second guessing each other's feelings. and lestat's jealousy over claudia's ability to know #louis in a way he can't makes me insane. it's SO good.#anyway i have a lot of feelings so i'mma stop now 😂

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zombiemink · 26 days

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Very glad i stayed off tumblr until i could watch the new episode so i got to fully experience that gut punch at the end 😭😭

#anyway. i loved the episode and delainey hayles is great as claudia!#interview with the vampire #iwtv spoilers

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thecoffeerat · 1 year

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No one said that the birth of God would be easy

#silent hill #silent hill 3 #claudia wolf #claudia silent hill #art #my art #blood #I love Claudia anyway #ketchup

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raayllum · 1 year

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One of the things I love most about Claudia is, quite frankly, how steadily and consistently Fucked Up she is, for lack of a better term. She comes up with the switching spell (an early sign she’ll surpass her father as a dark mage) but unlike Viren, can’t understand Harrow’s reservations about it. Which makes sense, as dark magic is inherently transactional as viewpoint. This ties into her wanting to take Runaan prisoner to be dark magic parts (“Yes! [Dark magic] is clever, it’s brilliant, it’s practical!”) not realizing that in terms of viewpoints, she has a lot more in common with the elf than differences. She lights Harrow’s body on fire with dark magic (reminiscent of using Sarai’s last breath for the vengeance spell she never would’ve approved of) with the framing aligning her with Viren to boot.

She believes that Rayla could never be a good person because 1) she’s a Moonshadow elf and therefore just isn’t a person (or worth exceptionalizing as one yet) and 2) “She kidnapped you and Prince Ezran, how can she be good?” when Claudia is going to attempt to kidnap the boys the very next episode, but in her mind this is somehow salvageable, because it’s Necessary, isn’t it? It’s what her father wants.

But even her father’s dead set wishes aren’t a steady foundation, as Claudia has a habit of steamrolling over what her family wants when it’s things that might separate them from one another. She won’t let Viren let go, she won’t believe Soren about the princes when Viren offers up a solution that lets her keep her whole family together rather than having to choose her brother over her father, even if that means harming her brother. And she steamrolls because she thinks by physically fixing the problem (Viren’s death, Soren’s paralysis) the emotional issues (Viren’s trauma and panic attacks, Soren’s epiphanies) won’t continue to manifest; of course Soren mis-listened, of course Viren can go up the mountain. Never mind the consequences, never mind the pain; she fixed it. What’s the problem? (And of course, this sense of perfectionist preparation - “Gee Claudia, you’re so prepared, you’re the best” - alongside her smugness - “Wasn’t taking down a dragon one of your life goals?” isn’t sustainable or healthy for her either. We see how she panics and loses it when she isn’t prepared for a situation, and how the desperation drives her down deeper into the dark.)

Even after Callum begs for her to let them go and after attacking Ezran multiple times, upon being a prisoner in her own home Claudia mandates that “We didn’t do anything wrong” (which is a far cry from Rayla’s response to her homecoming: “But you didn’t run. They have it all wrong” “Does it matter?”). Where Soren begins to question and defect, knowing his truth, he works to get Ezran out of jail whereas Claudia is conflicted but ultimately able to justify leaving him there, and able to justify staying when Soren leaves. With two years of only Aaravos in her ear, she’s gotten even worse, even more prejudiced against elves and dragons than she was before, save for her exceptions (Terry, Aaravos). And if even Terry is calling her out on her cruelty, and admitting that she did terrible things, then you know they were probably pretty awful for an elf who doesn’t bat an eye at his girlfriend slaughtering baby animals (hi puffer bats and baby deer).

And at the same time, it’s not as though Claudia isn’t goofy and loving and compassionate. She loves ancient ruins and cuddling with dogs, she does feel some kind of way about seeing Callum again, she doesn’t just cut Terry loose when his life is put in danger and it’d be easier too - she genuinely loves him. Like I said all the way in the first few months after S2:

I’d also like to say that this does not mean Claudia will not be redeemed. She does love people, has the possibility of using magic (Dark or otherwise) for good, would do anything for her brother (although only S3 and time can tell), and could be a reformed, more compassionate, fully rounded and loving person in the future.

Redemption is not out of the cards for her, whatsoever.

It’s just going to be a very long and hard road to get there.

#tdp claudia #tdp #the dragon prince #arc 1 #arc 2 #multi #anyway i love her #ppl really out here like 'i sympathize with this character. therefore she can't be a villain'#i SYMPATHIZE WITH VIREN & AARAVOS TOO THEY'RE. STILL VILLAINS #thought of u sage-nebula #claudia #text post #mine

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sage-nebula · 1 year

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It's kind of funny to me that there are people who seem to be surprised when Claudia does things like depersonalize Rayla by referring to her as "[Callum and Ezran's] elf" in the Reflections short story when it's been clear from the very first episodes of season one that Claudia doesn't really see elves as people—or at least, not people worthy of basic rights or dignity.

When Runaan was cornered om the balcony and Soren was about to kill him, Claudia protested. Not because of any mercy, but rather the opposite. "We have more practical uses for this one," she said. "Tie him up!"

Earlier, Viren describes dark magic as "practical," so it's obvious what Claudia is referring to here. Runaan will be tied up and harvested for dark magic ingredients. Viren has slightly different plans, of course, but Runaan still ends up coined in the end. A fate arguably worse than death, by his own estimation.

Silly, goofy Claudia at her happiest saw an entire person as dark magic ingredients. There was no reason for that; she still had her father and brother, Runaan was dead to rights, Soren could have ended him with a single blow. But Claudia saw this person and thought, no, lets squeeze the magic out of him instead.

Claudia's actions have become more overtly brutal over time, yes. But she has always been like this. She has always had the same cruelty in her that led her to pretend to hand over Rayla's family, only for it to be a trick instead. Claudia does love Terry, but she says she loves him in the very same season that she tells Soren that elves are actually terrible and are just using him. For Claudia, Terry is the exception. One of "the good ones."

She has always been like this. Desperation has just driven those traits out more often. And it's part of what makes her so interesting.

#the dragon prince #claudia #i really am so glad that they've not shied away from this w/ her #bc ir was maddening during s1 & s2 when ppl acted like she was silly & sweet & could do no wrong #like no! she has been doing wrongs from the beginning! & she will keep doing them! love that for her!!#also i feel like her Cruella de Ville hair is no accident? lol she WOULD kill 99 Xadian puppies for a magic coat #anyway #i support women's rights & women's wrongs #which is why i support Claudia being seen for who she is #wrongs and all

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thomas-the-goat-of-satan · 7 months

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god, and the thing is, Claudia was really the weirdest girl alive. and that's something she'll forever have. I mean it. no one's touching her!! you suck 'em like frog legs, and burn 'em like trash, she says. she is. fourteen. kill juice. she takes so phenomenally well to murder that I'm like 85% sure she would've done that regardless. she wasn't socialized At All, pre or post vampirism, and she's got the type of familial situation where she can ask innocent funeral go-ers what the dead woman's last words were, and one of her dads will say, "that's fine, actually. normal thing to say, normal kid. don't dull her sparkle, Louis." and really, that's not even a particularly inaccurate assessment on his part, because on the list of weird things about her, her fixation on last words Maybe places sixteenth. also!! she's physically fourteen. forever. this is normally the part where I'd say, "I would literally start killing people if I had to be fourteen forever," but she DID. she serial killed about it!! she also like, visibly doesn't have a conscious. I don't even know how she manages that. she just stares at people with her huge red eyes and is super fucking creepy, all of the time. I adore her more than words can describe.

#I am a little shocked that she could carry through even One date with Charlie.#well.#to be fair.#she kind of didn't.#but!!#not the point #anyway love her love her love her #interview with the vampire #claudia #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #show #cloey talks iwtv #mine

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hekateinhell · 5 months

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#vcficfriday 🦇

Isaiah 1:15-18 (32364 words) by @fofoqueirah

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Armand/Lestat de Lioncourt/Marius de Romanus, Armand/Lestat de Lioncourt, Armand/Marius de Romanus, Lestat de Lioncourt/Marius de Romanus Summary: Suddenly, I hate his jealousy. I hate it! He is one of God's angelic cherubs when he smiles at me, but his eyes hold fury because I am in his Maker's arms. Wasn't Marius at the centre of our early conflict? Wasn't his longing for Marius why he spared me long enough for me to break his world, then shatter his heart when Marius came for me and not for him?

I am not ready to discuss the many thorns in our relationship. I dread bringing up Nicolas, his coven or Claudia. I can't; I am not ready myself. But I can debate Marius, and we could at least fix that grief.

Is there a way to kill what poison seeps from his heart when he thinks of me and Marius?

Would mending their relationship impact ours?

a.k.a. the one in which Lestat's attempts to fix his and Armand's ongoing resentment, ends up fixing Armand and Marius' convoluted relationship, mending his relationship with both while he's at it.

OKAY LISTEN - this is the Marius/Armand/Lestat fic I've been waiting for my whole life. The drama! The BAGGAGE!! The Daddy Issues™️!!! There's other characters and relationships woven in even though the trio is the focus and Fofo just juggles it all so well, I'm so excited for the other 14 CHAPTERS TO COME. 🥹

Lestat's Son (1673 words) @calipsan

Rating: Mature Relationships: Lestat de Lioncourt/Original Female Character(s) Summary: Giselle is a married woman living in the village near Chateau de Lioncourt. She finally gets the courage to ask a young mortal Lestat to her bed. The story is from her POV, but it is mainly an exploration of what Lestat might have been getting up to with the ladies of the village.

Honestly, the idea of Lestat having human descendants HAUNTS me and I'm so excited to see a fic finally tackling that big fat "What If?" in Lestat's mortal life!!! I love having it from a woman's POV too, something we definitely don't see a lot of in VC fic! 🙏🏼

Touched and laughing, father and daughter (201 words) by @butchybats

Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Claudia & Lestat de Lioncourt Summary: Louis is interrupted while reading and goes to find Lestat playing with Claudia.

What if I cried though, what then? Such a perfect little slice of Rue Royale era fluff, ft. Lestat being a better dad to Claudia than his dad ever was to him!!!! 🤧🤧🤧

*and if you're wondering what exactly #vcficfriday is, please feel free to check it out here! 🥹

#will i ever have a consistent format for my vcficfridays? it's unlikely #anyway pls don't forget to leave some love in the comments if you check these out!!! happy friday babes!! 🥹💖#the vampire chronicles #vc #armand/lestat/marius #armand/marius #armand/lestat #lestat/marius #lestat de lioncourt #armand #marius de romanus #claudia #louis de pointe du lac #vcficfriday #vc fic #fic recs

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armchairaleck · 7 months

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Alright, Claudia piece I've been thinking of..

The s6 trailer both consolidated these thoughts and made me wonder if this was a bit eccentric, but hey... I wanted to write it, so..

No real warnings I can think of, it's just dark magic and stuff..

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I am my father’s child.

I used to think I was more like my mother. I look like her.

People would tell me that, the ones who’d used to know her. Oh, you have your mothers eyes, they said, or her smile, or her laugh. I had the same black hair as her.

Once I had that hair.

It’s more white than black now.

That’s what I remember the most about her, the way when she held me close her hair would cascade over me, like a dark curtain and tickle my face. The way it always smelt of almond soap, a smell that was peculiarly hers. A smell that was all the warm things in the world - the cakes she used to bake with raisins in, the scarfs she would knit for us when the autumn winds came, the armchair where I used to sit curled in her lap like a cat. Since she left I’ve never smelt anything quite like it again.

Other memories I have are more vague, the sound of the piano drifting through the wall while I played by the fire. I never needed to pay it much attention, but there was always some odd comfort in hearing it and knowing that she was there. The nights when she and my father would read us stories together, my brother nestled under my father’s arm, myself between the two of them and I would rest my head on her chest and absorb the soft vibrations of her voice.

There were other things I didn’t understand, adult things, strange mysteries. My brother lying in bed for days, my mother and father arguing, my father and Kpp’Ar arguing, and the way that suddenly the arguing simply stopped. The voices ceased.

I discovered that people could leave as if you meant nothing, as if all the hidden parts of you that you wanted them to love were not important at all.

When I was six my mother left. I watched her take her things, two leather saddle bags sitting on the bed, each possession that she carefully folded into them.

I remember her wrapping the necklace that my father gave her in a cloth. It was my favourite thing of hers, a gold chain with a green stone that matched her eyes. I’d always loved to play with that necklace, to watch the light of the sun catch on each edge of it and cast its ghostly glimmer over her skin.

Her other things went later, picked up in a carriage, and the holes that they left simply remained empty spaces that my father never filled.

I didn’t say goodbye.

I watched her throw on her travelling cloak. I told myself I wouldn’t cry. I told myself I would be strong, but I ran up the castle battlements all the same. I couldn’t help that. One last glimpse I’d told myself. When I saw her growing smaller, getting further and further away, I wanted to catch her, I wanted to run straight back down the stairs and chase after her, but I knew it was no good. I would never be fast enough, and when I shouted the wind only whipped my voice away.

She didn’t turn back.

I didn’t cry then. It wasn’t until much later and always alone. I was my father’s child.

For years I thought I was not like him, he was always so serious, he rarely smiled. Years passed and the warmth on his face grew less and less, his eyes became dead places that the light couldn’t reach. I didn’t think I could ever be like that. Soren and I used to laugh about it, the more solemn he grew the more we felt we had to smile. We both knew there was something missing, something we had to cover with jokes until it almost seemed as if it was okay, as if we were just like any other family, but we weren’t. We could never be like that.

When I was seven my father let me work in his study. I liked it there. In the summer the sun came in through the tall windows and I could watch its path along each stone and always know the time of day. When the wild grey winter came and the winds howled outside the castle walls, that was when I felt happiest, the fire crackling, my father bent over a book, and the rain hammering down against the window. The two of us together lost in some other world that belonged only to us.

He would show me things, little tricks he called them. The way you could make a ball of fire from an emberback spider and let the flame play on your palm without burning your skin. The way you could take the feather of a lunarflare owl and use it to make objects dance in the air as if they were being pulled by invisible strings. He often did this, he would bring our toys alive and conjure up forests and magical creatures for my brother and me before we went to bed.

Later he showed me his other study, the one that twisted down spiral stairs, deep into the earth, where the stones radiated their cold chill over everything. Ours were the sunless places, damp and dark, where no one else liked to tread. There he showed me other things. A way of conjuring a half-life from ashes sprinkled over flame, and the way you could make it bend to your will. He showed me how to split essence from matter and ways of keeping each suspended in a half realm that was neither death nor life. Together we delved into long forgotten secrets, found hidden things lost to time, and discovered other things that belonged only to us.

He taught me that there was an answer to every problem if you searched hard enough.

There were things I learnt down there that I will not speak of, for they are better hidden. There is a deeper darkness to magic, one of blood and sweat and pain. My father taught me this, but he asked me not to call on it unless the need was dire. This magic had a cost to it, a sacrifice that you alone must make. It is hard to understand, most people call it evil, perhaps it is, or perhaps it is simply something they have no words to describe and so it frightens them. It is easy enough to hate what you fear.

They want this magic though, when there is no other choice, they desire what it can give them, and they take it. Once my father bought land back to life through the heart of a titan and the sheer force of his will. I was the only one who knew the true price of it and yet even then I found something about it that soared beyond beauty. I knew that one day I too would do beautiful things and that no one else would see the wonder in them.

I saw the way people looked at my father, with fear in their eyes, the way they would one day look at me.

There was a dream I had when I first did dark magic.

It seemed almost endless and full of possibilities. There was a little girl there. She was just like me, but her hair was bleached bone white, and her skin was brittle like parchment that had been left too long in the sun. I liked her. She smiled at me and held out her hand and she led me away into the trees.

The woods grew thick and knotted, twisted this way and that, and they held out their branches like hands. We slipped between them and she showed me many things. There was a river, dark as blood, and on its bank strange creatures danced, their eyes held flames of different colours, their teeth were sharp and yellow and yet they did not frighten me, I wanted to dance with them. The girl taught me the names for all of these things and they slipped off her tongue like quciksilver.

We went looking for lost things that were impossible to find and yet there was some comfort in the seeking. Fire blazed around us and we jumped through flames. I did not mind, it was no different from the way my world seemed to burn around me.

This other place was somehow reassuring. I felt I could find things there instead of losing them and I wanted to stay, I wanted to get lost there forever, to follow each path as far as it went.

I remember the wrench of waking from that dream, my father was beside me, his face pale in the candlelight and he held me. I knew that this was a place he had also been to.

I found a way to go back there, a way to it through the edge of your dreams. Each night before I went to sleep I closed my eyes and imagined it in great detail, the little girl with the dark eyes, the twisted trees and the paths, the red river and the dancing. Each night the dreams returned and I went further and further into them.

I talked with serpents, they taught me peculiar things, the first words for everything, the ones that had been lost even to the dragons, the magical words that had moulded the world into being and they sat strangely on my tongue. There were great owls that let me ride on their backs, their cold black feathers sleek beneath my hands. They flew me up above the world until I could see more than the human eye had ever viewed. I could see the way the world shone, moon and sky, earth and ocean, sun and stars, all of these things linked by dark magic and some other, unknowable power that existed beneath it all. I sang wordless melodies with creatures that seemed too fantastic to exist until the air moved in patterns with our tune.

I told my father about these dreams and I saw the worry on his face. He was always tired. He told me I mustn’t go too far, he told me to remember my way back, and he told me a story of a child who got lost in their dreams like that. Of the changelings that existed there, of the way they would take a child and leave only a slumbering body in its bed, a body that would never wake again.

After that he went to great trouble to get me a primal stone so I could cast other magic. I felt a wild storm raging behind a perfect sphere, and I learnt many spells of the sky, but even though I knew it intimately, even though I felt its fury and its bite, it did not draw me like that other magic.

I could not stop my dreams, I would not have wanted to. The little girl was always there waiting for me and we grew up together. It was nice to have a girl to play with, the castle was full of boys and they couldn’t share my secrets the way she did. Dark sister, she called me and we made pacts of blood and bone and our hearts seemed to beat as one.

I dreamt of a spell that would make my mother come back. I believed there had to be such a spell, there was magic for so many other things, that if I could only find it our lives would be complete. My father would be happy again, my brother would return to the boy he had once been, the one who liked my magic, the one who asked for me to watch him while he slept and keep him safe.

Years passed though and my mother did not come back.

I grew used to it, and then I grew so that I would not have known what to say to her if she had returned. She would have known nothing of me. I felt it with my brother too, the way I could no longer share some mysteries, the way I had to hide parts of myself just as my father did.

The years did something to my father, they seemed to alter him until sometimes he was almost unrecognisable to me. The more he worked, the more it seemed to cost him, and yet he was driven like me to go on.

There were days when my father sat with his head in his hands as if he no longer knew what to do. He gazed for hours at the wall, or stared at a book without ever turning the page. I asked him what was wrong but he couldn’t seem to tell me.

I was older then though, I could piece things together. I had learned to read him the way he had once read me and I wanted to help him. Perhaps I thought I would lose him too, that he would get lost in those dark places that seemed a part of him and that I would wake one day and find he too had gone.

So I listened at doors, I slipped into his study when no one was there, and I leafed through his books and papers until I knew what he wanted and why he despaired of it. Some things are nothing much more than dreams, shapes that once emerged from misty glades but have drifted now beyond time, into some other place where the grass is a richer green.

He wanted the horn of a unicorn.

There are a thousand stories that have been written about unicorns. Tales of their pity, of the way they harnessed the ocean, sky and earth into stones and gave them to humans once, that these were the original primal stones used to give us magic. That they could shift their shape this way and that and even disappear completely. Some people said that they had been hunted from this world, others that they had simply slipped through a veil into another realm completely.

A thousand stories but not one sighting, not for centuries if you believed the books.

Still I felt that I might try, I might somehow find a way. Not because I had any great skill or power, but simply because I had once seen the way laid out for me.

It happened when I was quite small, not long after my mother left. I had wandered through the shell of what had once been a home. It was cold and empty then and I was filled with sadness, I felt as if my whole world was crumbling around me and I longed to stop it. Right in the heart of it I found a creature made of rock, and its sorrow flowed like the sea. I thought that perhaps if I could stop its sadness that mine might also end one day.

When I set it free the creature gave me a map, not the sort of map you could follow by points on a compass, it was only a place you could feel for, reach into with your heart, and if the heart longs for something hard enough perhaps there is still a way to find it.

My heart longed for so many things.

Years later when I needed it, I knew somehow the way that I must go and the secrets required to get there.

First you must cover your eyes because it wouldn’t do to see the way. Cover your eyes and sing the secret songs. Then you must walk into the woods quite without fear, if you are afraid the woods would simply swallow you up, these woods are very cold and dark. You will feel the chill, wet bark beneath your fingers, and you will hear the crunch of leaves on the ground that sound like brittle bones breaking beneath your feet. You will sense a hundred things out there that are ready to turn you to smoke and you must never flinch.

The further you walk, the more your hope will drain from you and that is when you will know yourself truly, and what you can endure.

I could bear these things, the world had already taught me that, so I walked on until the darkness seemed to fade and I could feel a light beyond me. A voice rang out and filled my mind, it was the most wonderful sound I had ever heard. It told me to uncover my eyes and I did, and the beauty I saw was ethereal. It was something quite beyond anything I had ever imagined, I wish I could describe better, it seemed to shine with starlight as if it had stepped down from the heavens themselves. At the time I believed I would never forget a single hair of it, but there must have been some magic because now I can only see it vaguely, the fleeting outline of its form, the exquisite lines of a face so fine and gentle and kind, and its dark eyes that seemed to stare right into my soul.

I didn’t have to tell it what I wanted, it already knew. Only afterwards did I know the cost of it, that removing the horn of a unicorn denies it the ability to shift into its true form, that in giving me this gift its shape would be lost to it forever. The creature shifted in front of me, became a pale girl with sky blue eyes and I held a horn in my hands, it glowed and its light grew brighter and brighter until the girl and the woods and the trees all disappeared and the sun burst in through my window.

Later it seemed as if this too had been a dream. I awoke in my bed and the first thing I looked for was the unicorn horn. It was there beneath my pillow. I could feel the magic of it, it felt far more powerful than any other object I had ever held, even the sky stone could not touch it. When I gave it to my father his face lit up. He had not looked so happy for a long time, and he took my hand in his own and he told me that everything would be alright.

After that I knew I would never find my way back to the lands of my dreams. There were things I had seen now that were not really for human eyes and could never be explained. I knew that in looking for them I had lost something else.

I never had the dreams again, I never saw the girl with white hair, but she was already a part of me by then, I could talk to her whenever I wanted because the shadow of her was in me. Still there was a sadness to this loss that I cannot put in words, a void that has existed in me ever since.

Later on there were other losses, greater still. My brother left. There were other mysteries, far more arcane perhaps, things that involved the very essence of returning life from death, I had to piece together the only things that remained to me and I will not tell you of that or you would never sleep sound in your bed.

Mine is a different sort of slumber now, it does not give much rest and when I wake I’m always tired.

Now I understand the bone deep ache. It is our own devotion, these things my father taught me in his way. Ours are the places no one else will comprehend, the parts of us we have to kill, and when we do you wonder why there is nothing left.

I loved my father because it is harder to look into darkness and survive than it is to fool yourself that some trick of the light can save you. People will burn their eyes out staring at the sun and they will think it is better to be blind than to know true darkness, to taste the depths our souls contain. He was the last thing I had left and I could not let him go.

I was a little girl once and the world took from me, it took all the things I loved one by one, now it is my turn to take.

I am my father’s child. I hold onto things that are broken and I squeeze until there is nothing left.

I thought I had something of my mother in me, but I do not.

I am my father’s daughter through and through.

#tdp claudia #might bung this on Ao3 but I am also tired so not tonight..#plus I hear first person POV is hugely hated there so since all my stuff is laughably unpopular I'm a little dubious..#ehhh idk why tho.. some of my fave books are first person pov..#anyway I love Claudia.. she can do no wrong by my low moral standards..#writing

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casyawn · 17 days

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it's sooo funny to me that when the madeleine casting dropped they said her character will be relevant to the post-wwii time period and we were like oh cool that must means she's jewish! well sike she's a nazi collaborator. truly television show of all time

#also before anyone comes at me. i am jewish #and i love this choice fyi it's so so good #also i know it's not been 100% confirmed but i feel like it's safe to assume at this point #anyway. was living for claudia being like whatever i don't give a shit #bc honestly. she really wouldn't #iwtv #iwtv spoilers #my posts

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tweedstoat · 27 days

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Alicent's maternity gown serve when she's trying to conceal her baby bump under empire waistlines so she can still stare soulfully at Rhaenyra across crowded rooms

#viserys wheezing his last in the background like you look lovely my dear 👍#anyways olivia cooke u always look beautiful!!!#shes becky sharp from vanity fair here #i had no idea she acted opposite claudia jessie (eloise from bridgerton)#truly england has like 5 actors and actresses on rotation

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judasisgayriot · 10 months

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Thinking randomly abt this because I just reblogged a very nice gifset, but I truly love violet evergarden the character, so much. I would fucking die for her that’s my daughter but goddamn does the finale movie make me seethe lol

This is probably so out of step/a controversh take but FUCK being with the major, like I understand her obsession with him and how he was the first person to ever treat her like a human being and I love her quest to find out what love is which is spurred by what he said to her. Fine. But literally he said go and live violet. Live and be free violet!! Sorry just literally she slowly learns how to be a person and how to feel emotions and how to love people and she has a job that fulfils her and friends and family who fuckin love her and her giving that up to be with him in the end is the literal opposite of everything I wanted for her!!! I don’t hate him as a character or discount what he meant to her, but the point SHOULD have been that she grew past her singular obsession with him and learned to LIVE. He was actually right when he was like, you shouldn’t stay here and be with me, lol.

Like idk why I’m getting mad all over again about it, but I love the show and Violet so much, her journey of learning what human emotions are and healing from her trauma and finding people who love her despite all her guilt and ptsd is so moving and emotional and wonderful and then I just hate how it ends lol. Actual NOTP in terms of them ending up together. She was a feral child that he took in and showed kindness to when no-one ever had before and that’s how their relationship should have stayed. Violet live your life stay with your new family who care about you. Maaaan. I love violet so much I could cry abt how much I love this character but there’s no escaping anime bullshit sometimes lol. I don’t care if I’m missing the point of what the show’s meant to be about somehow (a tragic romance???) because my take is simply better and correct sorry

#idk why I’m so mad all of a sudden lol. i just genuinely love violet so much that this makes me so mad on her behalf #i LOVE Dad Claudia yelling at the major tho lol. that’s his kid now #anyway uhhh. i mean if you do ship it I was being hyperbolic and you’re fine lol.#the ending was just SO counter to everything I loved about the show.#anni rambles #violet evergarden #I’m also just not an anime person at all I just do not watch anime #violet is everything to me tho. i would kill for her

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charleswatford · 1 year

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sometimes I picture little 15 year old Baz reading Interview with the Vampire and laugh. can you imagine reading that, of all books, to try and find yourself? find community or answers? not in the metaphorical, homo-erotic subtext way I'm meaning reading about the child vampire turning into a manipulative maniac and the sad wet dog of a main character having to sit there and take it. what the fuck. my poor boy.

#personally i dont think it was the worst of his issues but it couldnt have helped #the only worse thing i can think of simon reading it #obviously theres differences bc of the whole not againg thing w claudia but come on that must have stung #anyway idk if my posts still get traction bc i love dissappearing but i have been Having Thoughts on this #thank u for tuning into my rant #snowbaz #carry on rainbow rowell #baz pitch

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