#how name is Laszlo Cravensworth

[jackiegaytona]

I just discovered that Sebastian's last name in Fallout is Leslie this only adds to my suspicions that all of Matt Berry's roles are somehow related. There's at least one Mighty Boosh reference in WWDITS, Laszlo Cravensworth is also known as Leslie, Fred Armisen keeps popping up everywhere for like one episode, in the Spongebob movie where Matt plays King Neptune there's a gag about Atlantis = Atlantic City similar to how Laszlo describes Atlantic City. Are all these roles that Steven Toast has played? Am I just slightly obsessed with Matt Berry? Why does he keep appearing in my fandoms??

[deviousgoat]

My honest opinion on the WWDITS finale (yes I know it’s late but hear me out through my tedious essay on this.)

It genuinely suffered from bad writing. This final season had so much potential to be great much like the ones that came before, but it absolutely flunked on it. Everything else in this season had great quirky; the costumes, the lighting, and the set. But as the season’s writing was truly introduced, I noticed it didn’t really have that same atmosphere anymore. The jokes felt stale and too planned, while others seemed to appear out of nowhere and cause chaos for the storyline. Jerry and the monster were a good add-in joke, and introducing Laszlo’s father aswell was great. But how these characters were entered left a huge writing problem. They created a huge Checkov’s (I think that’s how you spell it?) gun. They introduced huge plot point’s that could’ve been executed carefully enough to be reasonable with the audience. And there are a couple I’d like to name.

Sean’s death; throughout season 6 we hear about Sean having a huge decline in his mental and physical health. This is present through his two heart attacks, being fired from his job, and seeming incapable, of much. But when it came to a point where people began to worry about Sean’s health and such, his last scene is him talking about the people who have pissed in his toilets. It’s very on cue for Sean… but it feels wrong. How Sean is so carefully cured to die, then they just drop it.

Nandermo; Nandermo has been an ongoing thing since the start of the series. A ship between Nandor and Guillermo where one finds themselves in pure love while the other refuses to admit their feelings and kinda just complains. It’s a very popular ship dynamic in communities and I feel WWDITS is no different. But for the final scene of them together, it expands on more plot points instead of answering them. Will they be lovers? Or just friends? Or will they grow to hate each other? None of it is answered. We just get them sitting in a coffin together and falling down a big ass hole.

Rodrick Cravensworth (I don’t know if that’s properly spelt but oh well.); Lord Rodrick Cravensworth was an ASS of a character. The writing for him was great, and his story tells us so much of Laszlo’s childhood. He’s really meant to agitate you through the screen, and does so wonderfully. But yet, in his finale scene we only see him being locked up in a safe with a funko pop that looks exactly like him. I see this as a huge plot point that shouldn’t have been left out so easily. If they decide in 1, 2, 5, 10, 15 or beyond years to do another movie about our favourite vampires from Staten Island, it should include Rodrick again, just for closer. (If he possessed the doll and broke out of the safe or some shit.)

Dadzlo; Dadzlo is a word used by fans in the WWDITS community to assess Laszlo’s time as a father for Colin Robinson. This was a huge plot point in WWDITS season 4, but is never really expanded on since then (Other than the brief mentions of it.) But when we s6 (ep6? I can’t remember) We see more hints and mentions of the two. This whole thing is a huge mess of a plot. Colin refusing to acknowledge that Laszlo raised him, while Laz is left tormented by his inner turmoil. This whole thing was left unresolved, which left it to only be a couple-line joke mostly. I hate this because I personally enjoyed Dadzlo a lot in the season and was disappointed without the denouement of it.

Nadja’s lack of positive female interaction; Nadja is Pansexual, we’re all aware of that. But throughout the entirety of WWDITS we almost never see her have a positive female interaction (other than Jenna, and even then it was pretty bad.) Why haven’t we seen her ever have any interest in another female character? It’s a horrid battle of bad writing and fear. A popular ship, Ladja, romanticizes Nadja and The Guide together. I personally like this ship, showing how Nadja and the guide SHOULD’VE needed up instead of being a one-sided friendship. But it actually pisses me off to see that yet again, their just in a crush x “who the hell are you?” kind of relationship.

The finale; writing this in general just makes my blood actually fucking boil. The season was so bad, and how they ended it was even worse. No tying of lose ends, no use of Checkov’s gun, and not even a resolve to ships. The episode was mainly Guillermo centred, which is kinda boring. There are plenty of episodes already within the series that have Guillermo in every plot line, and having the finale be one of those was horrid. The other characters within the finale felt more like props instead of supporting characters. And of course we had “We’ll meet again” as the song to end it off. I’m not saying it’s a bad song, I’m just saying it’s overused in media. A lot of endings in television shows from what I’ve seen include that song, a very notable one being Gravity falls. I know it’s hard to find appropriate music for the ending of a series, but do I really have to hear that same one over, and over, and over? Like, grab Al Bowley’s “Heartaches” or something but just find something original.

I’m super pissed about this, and I could go on and on about the things I hated about this series finale, but I’m just going to let you guys get a taste of how much I hated s6

Like, god how hard is it to write an ending? Do the fans have to do it all themselves? The whole point of a proper ending is to find a way that makes most of the fans of it happy, not suffocating us with bad writing. I hate what they’ve done to this television show, I really do.

I hope you enjoyed my energy vampire-like rant. Now goodnight :3

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Abendrot

Laszlo Cravensworth x reader. This fic is a Lost Boys/What We Do in the Shadows crossover! (moodboard)

*****

Since you have moved to Staten Island, the moment of awakening has been less traumatic for you than it is for the boys, since for you living in an apartment is nothing new. No matter how… picturesque it is to sleep in the filthy ruins of an abandoned, crumbling hotel, furbished like the shelter of a band of squatters and lacking even the most basic standards of hygiene, that sort of arrangement has never been your thing; as a consequence, when Max turned you in a vampire almost three centuries ago, you have given up on many things, among which the light of the sun, the possibility to use a mirror to make sure your hair is in order and the need to eat normal foods to sustain yourself, but not the comforts of a house worthy of the name. 

For this reason, you had remained in your cosy, nicely furnished apartment in Santa Carla, so close to the sea you could perceive the sweet song of the backwash when you woke up and far enough from the Boardwalk to guarantee you the peace and quiet you needed and enjoyed. Every night before dawn you made sure all the windows were closed, so that the light of the sun couldn’t filter through, and retired to sleep on your comfortable bed, with clean sheets and a soft pillow, to rest at the end of yet another night largely spent wrangling the four young vampires you were responsible for and who you loved dearly, even though sometimes you wished they’d get less often into trouble. 

This state of things only partially changed after your move. When Max was killed by the Emersons, you and the boys quickly realised Santa Carla wasn’t safe for you anymore, and that, no matter how much you loved the small town that had been your home for decades -or centuries in your case- it was better to find a place where your kind was still considered a myth and that wasn’t teeming with vampire hunters. You spoke to Tilda, a former acquaintance of your Sire who was part of the Vampiric Council, and she suggested you move to New York City, a relatively safe place where a large community of vampires already existed; the boys helped you empty Max’s bank accounts and take everything you could need or find a use for from his home, and you went on the road. A week later, you had rented a comfortable house in Staten Island, large enough for the five of you; David, as usual speaking on behalf of the whole group, said he and the others would crash with you until they found a place of their liking, but three months have passed since then and they haven’t even begun looking. You don’t mind; even though they are way too rowdy for your liking and you often have to force them to do their part of the chores, you are deeply fond of those four scoundrels, and don’t mind having them as housemates… if only because it’s easier this way to keep an eye on them. 

The dark of the room surrounds you, and it’s like you are floating in an ocean of shade. Curled up on your bed, one arm hidden under your pillow and your legs bent in a semi-foetal position, you wake up as soon as the sun covered by the solid white-painted walls disappears beyond the horizon. You feel it on your skin, thanks to the instinct common among those of your kind and that has never failed you, your eyes suddenly opening wide as a voice whispers in your ears: it’s gone. All clear. Nevertheless, you feel slightly apprehensive as you stand, walk past your wardrobe and approach the west-facing window; a moment of hesitation is all you allow yourself before slowly pushing the shutters open… and a sigh of relief leaves your lips as the gentle night breeze brushes against your face, rather than the dangerous light of the sun.

Night has fallen on Staten Island. 

Having opened the window to clear the air, and lingered for a minute to admire the clear sky where a thin crescent moon is surrounded by a multitude of stars, you turn and leave your room towards the living room, a spacious chamber whose windows are similarly barred. The ceiling is reinforced with robust beams that, despite the efforts of the real estate agent to make you appreciate the house’s brightness (ah!) and its excellent position in relation to your workplace, have been one of the main reasons you have decided to rent it.

The boys are there, having elected the living room as their resting place since the day of the move. Fast asleep, they hang from the ceiling, their bodies suspended in the air; they are completely still and silent, a state of things you often wish would occur during their waking hours, at least once in a while. But after all, this is also why you are so fond of them, you reflect, because they are so different from you. Being a vampire you know you will never grow old, but David and the others serve as a reminder of what it meant to be young: wild and careless, with the untamable energy of someone who still has the luxury of not having to care about the future.   

“Wake up, all of you!” you exclaim happily, and a moment later the room is already in an uproar. 

David, Paul, Dwayne and Marko, as usual full of the energy of the youth they will never grow out of, jump down from the ceiling, instantly awake. “Hi, (name)!” they greet you in unison; David winks at you, while Dwayne and Paul retrieve their jackets from the back of the chairs they had left them on, and Marko is the first to reach the nearby kitchen in search of food. 

“Don’t you look pretty tonight, (name).”

“Thank you, but I haven’t even changed after last night yet.” you point out smiling; David is a charmer, and would be able to flirt with the Devil himself if he needed to, but you know he and the others care immensely for you, which is why you appreciate their compliments “Any plans for tonight?” 

As you follow the other boys to the kitchen, David informs you they intend to visit a club they have heard of recently on the other side of Staten Island, to party, meet girls, and feed. “You should come with us, you know; it would be fun.”

You appreciate him asking, and know the boys would honestly be delighted to have you with them, but your answer is a smile, and a shake of your head. “Just please, David, try not to get caught.” you remind him for the umpteenth time; you don’t enjoy pestering the boys, but the last thing you want is a repetition of what happened in Santa Carla: losing Max was painful enough, and even though you’ve been assured there are no known vampire hunters in Staten Island the last thing you want is for the boys to risk meeting the same doom of your Maker “I’m serious; I know you need to feed but please, please, be discreet, and don’t leave a trail of bodies behind you like you did last week. Sooner or later someone will start suspecting what you are, and I don’t want to have to move again.”

You don’t need to mention the fact that, having remained out of the whole business with the Emerson family, there was no actual need for you to leave Santa Carla, but you decided to do it nonetheless, for extra safety and mainly to take care of the boys; you’ve never held it against David and the others, but they all know how painful it was for you to leave the town you had been born and spent three centuries in. 

David’s expression turns serious; he raises a hand, his palm facing you. “I promise, (name); we’ll be careful, and we’ll be back well before sunrise.”

“Thank you; that’s all I ask.”

“What about you? Have a date with your boyfriend?” Marko asks once you have followed the boys to the kitchen. You privately thank the heavens that, since your heart has stopped beating, blood is no longer flowing in your veins, because otherwise you would have gone red in the face. You hadn’t planned on letting the boys know you had met someone special, but they found out anyway, and no matter how good-natured their teasing, having the four of them gossip about your lovelife is more than a little embarrasing. 

“Yes, I am meeting him tonight.” you admit as you lower yourself on one of the chairs that surround the kitchen table, while around you the boys fix a snack for themselves; Paul and David are bickering over the single pizza slice left over from last night “But I’d rather you not call him that; he’s not my boyfriend.”

“What is he, then? Your lover?”

“Your boy-toy?”

“Your suitor?

“Your fuckbuddy?

“Just stop it, please!” you cry, overwhelmed and amused equally, as the boys, still busy adding to the list, giggle around you; suddenly they have stopped focusing on the food or the pranks they were playing on each other, and all four of them are looking at you. You sigh, aware they won’t let the matter go unless you answer satisfactorily, and for a moment, only for a moment, you… well, hate is too strong a word, but you really wish they’d leave you alone. You understand them being curious -you’d be as well, if David or one of the others told you they had a new partner- but can’t they see you’d rather keep the matter to yourself? You already spend a large part of your nights working to support your little family, since the few attempts to get them to work and earn some money ended in disaster, and taking care of them; don’t you deserve some time for yourself, to do things the boys respectfully keep their nose out of? “It’s not like that. He’s… a friend.”

“One of those you take your knickers off for?”

“David…!”

The boys laugh, insolent but good-natured -or good-natured but insolent? You have taken care of them for decades, and while you are by now used to being responsible for them, because someone has to be now that Max is gone, you really wish they’d stay out of this matter- and, having perceived you’d rather change the subject or maybe simply because they have already lost interest in your love life, they start discussing the possibility of stopping to buy food before going to the club. Having already lost your appetite, you grab the apple Dwaine has tossed you from a bowl inside the cupboard and retire to your room, leaving your young friends to plan their night.

You munch on the apple as you choose a set of clothes from the wardrobe and leave them on the bed, then you move to the nearby bathroom; being a vampire, by definition adverse to running water, you have never taken a shower in your life, but tonight you won’t treat yourself to a long warm bath as usual. Tuesday is the day of closing of the diner you have worked at since you and the boys moved to Staten Island, having explained to the owner you can only cover the night shift because you are busy with another job during the day, which means you have a whole night to spend with your friend. You have agreed to meet and hang out until dawn, and you are determined not to waste a single minute.

Twenty minutes later you’re ready for your date; fixing your hair and make-up is not easy when you don’t have a reflection, but over the years you have learned to make do, and now you’re reasonably sure you look at least decent if not pretty. You retrieve your bag from the chair next to your bed, and as you make sure your keys and wallet are where they should, as well as obviously your flute, David appears on the doorway, his arms folded and his back against the doorframe. 

“Is everything alright?” you wonder, a question that could sound superfluous but it is not, since while you have seen him and the others only a few minutes ago, you are well aware the boys would be capable of getting into trouble in the time it takes you to drink a glass of water. David nods silently, an unusually serious look in his dark eyes.

“You look really nice, (name). Seriously.” he states in the end.

“Thank you. I left you gas money in the bowl at the entrance.”

He pouts. “Can’t we beat some guy up at the station and force them to fill our tanks?”

“Of course not! Please, be careful, you’ve already been lucky once, the last thing we need is to draw attention to yourselves…”

“You’re worrying about nothing; if someone sees us we can kill them too, leave no witnesses…”

The dismay on your face is so intense David starts to laugh. “Come on, (name), I’m joking!”

You know it perfectly, but that doesn’t alleviate your bad mood. Why don’t you grow up?, you would like to ask him, even though you already know it will never happen. He and the others are Lost Boys, not Lost Men, and David is destined to remain a nineteen-year-old forever - physically and mentally as well, which means that recklessness and love of danger are part of him, something he can’t help being driven by, and it’s the same for Dwaine, Marko and Paul. On the other hand, having been turned when you were already an adult worrying about them comes naturally to you, especially after your young friends have narrowly avoided death at the hands of the vampire hunters in Santa Carla, only a few months ago.

However, you are not their mother, nor their Sire, and while Max was in the habit of entrusting them to you, which mainly meant solving the mess they created and making sure they at least tried to keep their vampiric nature secret while he took care of his shop on the Boardwalk and enjoyed the peace and quiet you also desperately craved, the boys have never formally been your responsibility. You love them as the younger brothers you no longer have, since their arrival in your now orphaned family has filled a void that had grown inside you since you had to abandon your mortal loved ones, and you know the boys are also sincerely fond of you, no matter how much they enjoy riling you up; but frankly you are fed up with this whole state of affairs, and to be patient, the voice of reason for any problem David and the others cause or get involved in, feels more frustrating with every passing day. Have you really been gifted eternal life, just to spend it baby-sitting these four hooligans?

“Well, try not to get into trouble.” you recommend in the end, more brusquely than you are used to “I’m going out; I’ll be seeing you at dawn.”

David nods, but he doesn’t seem eager to rejoin the others - or to leave you alone. “Why are you bringing your flute?” he asks, noticing the instrument peeking out of your bag. 

“My friend asked me to play for him; he’s an expert musician.”

“Mmh… about this guy…”

“David, please…” you begin with a sigh, but he shakes his head, suddenly serious, as he walks up to you. 

“Is this thing between you… serious?” he asks in the end, vaguely embarrassed by the topic “I mean, are you simply hanging out, having fun and… err, other things, or is there something more? Are you exclusive? Are you going to… move in together or what?”

“David…”

“Do you love him?” your young friend asks again, blurting the words out as if to get it over with, and you could easily point out that your lovelife is not his business, but you don’t, because, as absurd as it may sound, it seems like now he is the one worried for your safety and well being, the boy who was used to leave the bodies of his victims on the beach of Santa Carla for all the world to see, bite wound on the neck in full view, is concerned for the woman who has taken care of the accounting for Max’s various shops and businesses for three centuries and never even forgot to pay a bill in time!

It’s absurd; but sweet, as well. 

“Listen, I don’t want to meddle in your business, but I’ve never seen you so… so taken as you are now with this guy.” David, who you have just asked the reason for his question, explains “We have all been wondering. You’ve met him soon after we moved here, right? It’s been three months, and you’ve seen him almost every night!”

“Shouldn’t I have?”

“I’m not your father, (name), I’m not going to tell you who you can or can’t see. It’s just… it’s kind of a new thing for you, since you’ve been alone for at least ten years.”

Those last words, uttered without any offensive intent, nonetheless burn enough to force you to avoid David’s gaze. Given the fact you have lived all your immortal life in Santa Carla, a veritable haven for all supernatural creatures -vampires, werewolves, witches and warlocks, and even a few mermaids who infest the waters surrounding the town- it should have been relatively easy to meet someone like you, or with whom at least you didn’t have to hide your true nature; nevertheless, your love life has always been unsatisfying in the best of cases, and a veritable nightmare in the worst, and as David noted, it has been a long time since your last relationship. 

You don’t quite know why it is so difficult for you to meet someone you like, who reciprocates your interest, and the bond with whom lasts more than a calendar page. Perhaps you ask too much of others or, conversely, reserved and introverted as you are, you discourage people who try to know you better. Or perhaps, you reflect as the hint of a smile blossoms on your lips, the boys were right that time they tried to comfort you after your latest relationship had gone down the drain, the reason your heart gets broken over and over again is that the men -well, the males of every race- of Santa Carla are a bunch of idiots who wasted the chance to take a doll like you out to dinner.

And then they brought your most recent ex to you, beaten to a pulp and with a sign that said: “ENJOY YOUR MEAL, (NAME)!” hanging from his neck. They are not the most mature vampires in the world, but anyone can see how much they love you. 

In any case, this time it might be different - he might be different. Maybe. After all, even though you have spent as much time as you could together, every single moment at night you weren’t busy with your job or taking care of the boys, it’s still too early to say if there might be a future for the two of you. You don’t want to rush things, given the fact rash decisions often turn against those who take them, and you’re old and wise enough to know that getting too attached to a person you still don’t know fully is a sure way to have your heart broken, but you can’t help it: you’re completely infatuated, perhaps even something more, and you want this relationship to last.

You don’t want to lose him. Just thinking you won’t be able to meet him every night like you have done for the last three months, whether to walk arm in arm along the tree-lined avenues or to share a moment of intimacy hidden in a dark back-alley, both aware, and aroused by the fact, that any passer-by could see you, makes you wanna cry. Nothing says it has to happen, especially since your friend seems taken by you as much as you are by him, but you can’t help being afraid, because three months is probably the longest relationship you have ever had, and he… he is special, you wouldn’t be able to explain why but you’re sure of it, and the last thing you want is to ruin things between you like you did with all your previous partners…

“What’s so special about him?”

“Sorry?”

“This friend of yours; what does he have that so many others don’t?” David inquires, now openly curious; it is a fair question, at least when it’s a friend who asks it, for which nonetheless you don’t have an answer ready.

“He treats me very well. He’s kind, always interested in what I think or do, and he makes me laugh.” you start listing in the end, the smile on your lips getting wider “He’s a bit old-fashioned, the sort of man who opens the door for a woman and pulls her chair out when she sits, and it’s very charming, but it’s not a pose, it’s his way to prove he cares about me. He’s very affectionate, and he’s a musician, so we have that in common…”

“You two fucking?”

“David.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright… if you met a guy you like, good for you.” David concedes, pulling off from the door as he prepares to leave; his tone is deliberately casual, perhaps to not give the impression he’s sticking his nose in your personal affairs “Just try not to let him push you around, alright?”

Part of you would like to point out you don’t need that sort of exhortation. Like the long list of victims you have left behind you in the last three centuries, among which many of your exes, you’ve never been the sort of person who allows others to mistreat them, and you’ve always known that no partner, no matter how handsome or funny or loving, can disrespect you, make you question your self-worth, or make you cry.

On the other hand, you appreciate  David’s concern, since you know he doesn’t want to see you suffer.

“I will.” you promise “If you in turn swear you and the others won’t get into trouble, at least tonight.”

Your young friend gives you his word that they’ll try, which you know is the most you can hope for, and then he leaves you free to go.

*

The night is chilly in Staten Island, an icy wind that forces the passers-by to pick up the pace towards home or to hide their hands and heads under gloves and scarves as they shiver. Free from such worries -you did put a light jacket on, more because it matched your dress than because you needed it as protection from the cold- you climb on your car, parked across the street from the house, and drive towards the park where you and your friend have agreed to meet, like so many other tuesday nights since your first encounter. The relative lack of traffic allows you to accelerate just above the speed limits, something you usually avoid but that tonight you decide to allow yourself; talking to David made you slightly late, and the last thing you want is for him to have to wait for you - because it would be impolite, obviously, not because you fear he might decide to leave. You anxiously keep glancing at the little car clock, calculating the time left before you reach your destination, but at the same time the emotion filling your heart -anticipation, a barely kept under control excitement, the inebriating joy of knowing he is waiting for you- is so pleasant, an exhilarating rush of sensual trepidation, as you try to imagine what tonight has in store for you. It’s been a long time since someone awoke that sort of feeling in your heart, and you can’t help enjoying it.

Your heart has been still for three centuries, but you’re so excited you could almost think it has started beating -fluttering, even- again as you slow down to turn into a tree-lined street, already savouring the moment when you’ll be face to face. No matter how punctual you are, he’s always already there, waiting for you; seeing you come he’ll smile, reach out to take your hand and bring it to his lips for a kiss, and that will be enough to make you feel you have the world at your feet…

You finally reach your destination, a mostly peaceful neighbourhood with almost deserted streets. Having parked your car -a gift to yourself, bought after saving up for it for years; like all vampires you can transform into a bat and fly, and the boys are always happy to have your ride on the back of one of their bikes, but you prefer a more comfortable mean of transportation- you walk the brief distance towards the park, and soon you hear a masculine voice whisper your name. 

“Laszlo!” you exclaim happily as you cross the street to reach him, and your friend, waiting in front of the window of a newsagent, walks up to meet you in the middle. “(name)” he greets you again with a slight bow of his head “Good evening; you look lovely tonight.”

The compliment flatters you, and you do like to dress up for your dates, but in truth, your friend is the one who looks invariably ready for a high-society party. Laszlo wears embroidered waistcoats and top hats, tailcoats and elegant ties, a style of clothing that, he told you, was fashionable for upper-class men when he was alive, and that he never abandoned after being turned. He looks amazing, the elegance of his clothing simply complimenting his natural charm, and you could be almost jealous of his effortless elegance, if you weren’t so attracted to him. 

“Did you rest well?”

“A good day’s sleep, thank you; I couldn’t wait to see you.” you tell him, at ease sharing your most private thoughts like you rarely have been with a person you have known for such a relatively short time. Laszlo, who is still holding your hand in his after kissing it, smiles with something that is more than simple satisfaction and complacence; you know he has also looked forward to that night you can fully spend together, and he’s determined not to waste it “What are we doing?”

“I noticed a carnival has just come to town. Would you like to visit it?”

You’re actually quite bored with that sort of place, given all the time you spent at the Boardwalk in Santa Carla, and you doubt the one that just came to Staten Island is different in any significant way. On the other hand, you appreciate that Laszlo has tried to come up with something fun to do for your date, and in the end you just want to spend the night with him, where and doing what is less important.

“Of course, I’d like that.” you answer eagerly, and a clearly satisfied Laszlo offers you his arm to lead you away. 

As you expected, the carnival is an almost perfect copy of the one in Santa Carla: lines of stands that sell food and other merchandise, games of skill -most of which undoubtedly rigged- the Rollercoaster and the Ferris Wheel, and other attractions; children of all ages, some of whom accompanied by more or less bored adults, line in front of their favourite rides, while a few giggling teenagers eye the Tunnel of Love, waiting for someone to invite or perhaps hoping to be asked themselves. Cheerful music fills the air, as well as the smell of popcorn and funnel cake, as you and Laszlo unhurriedly enjoy your walk; your friend, who unlike you is the sort of vampire whose body now refuses normal food, nonetheless insists on treating you to a snack, and you thank him with a quick kiss, hidden behind your cotton candy.  

“I can’t believe you have been an actor!” you exclaim admiringly. Unlike you, who before moving to Staten Island had spent the last three centuries in Santa Carla, Laszlo has lived a diverse and active life, dedicating himself to a number of different activities, from practising law to topiary; he always has a funny anecdote or story to tell, and you gladly listen as you cling to his arm.

“I have been a porn actor, to be exact. A few of my movies have won awards as well, especially The adventures of a randy vampire from 1896, one of the very first pornos ever.” he reveals “I must admit I’m quite proud of it.”

“Well, you should be! I’d never be able to do that sort of thing. Can I, err, see them? If it’s not too private…”

Laszlo, who looks openly flattered by your interest, assures you nothing would make him happier than showing you his movies. “I’m glad you asked me; no one ever cared to see them, not even Nadja.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is, I assure you. She finds them boring.”

Silence falls on the two of you; Laszlo seems vaguely melancholic all of a sudden, but you don’t quite know what to say to lift his spirits, since the matter concerns him and a person you have never met. 

Nadja is Laszlo’s Sire, and wife; she turned him into a vampire after having seduced and hypnotised him, and after a while they got married. Laszlo told you about her on your first date, and you know the two of them care greatly about each other, even though they have always had an open relationship. You don’t quite dislike Nadja -how could you, since you’ve never even seen her?- but you can’t help feeling threatened by her, since she and Laszlo share such a deep bond, and have been together for so long. Your friend -David was right, the term is completely inappropriate to describe your and Laszlo’s relationship, but what else could you call him? You’re not exclusive, you’re not engaged, and you’ve never even met the rest of each other’s clan; you simply meet for dates regularly, and fool around behind the bushes or in the back of the diner where you work. You care for each other a lot, and have fun together, but perhaps you should sit and discuss what name to give to your relationship…- but you can’t help feeling threatened by her, afraid that Laszlo may never come to love you like he loves her… or that she might force him to leave you.

“I’m so glad we can spend some time together.” you mention in the end, finally finding a way to change the subject “I have been asked to double my shifts at the diner this week, and last night when I returned home I discovered the boys had freed a dozen dogs from the pound and brought them home. I’ll be the first vampire whose hair turns grey with stress…”

Laszlo smiles. “How are your young friends?”

“They’re well, thank you; full of energy as usual, which would be endearing if I didn’t have to clean up their messes every day.” you lament; the last thing you want is to bore Laszlo with your complains, but since Max’s death, and given the fact you’re yet to make friends after moving to Staten Island, you have no one else to confide in “I don’t think they could survive a night without me…”

Laszlo looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “Do you plan on remaining with them forever, then?”

“I… don’t think I have a choice, do I? Max is gone, and no matter what they think, the boys are not invincible, and they already escaped vampire hunters once; if I leave them to their own devices they’ll end up dead in less than a week, not to mention the fact they have no money of their own. I love them deeply, but sometimes I wish I didn’t have to spend all my time taking care of them.” 

Laszlo doesn’t comment, beyond a sympathetic smile that you easily return. You spend another hour at the carnival, even treating yourself to a ride on the Ferris Wheel; when your cabin reaches the top of the structure, Laszlo circles your shoulders with an arm to make you turn towards him and kisses you, sweet and intense, his tongue gently slipping past your lips to play with yours. You moan softly, bringing up a hand to first cup his cheek and then to run your fingers through his dark hair; you can feel Laszlo’s well-groomed beard against your cheek, but the sensation is not unpleasant - quite the opposite in fact, especially after you end up thinking there is another part of your body he could kiss, your most delicate skin, where the burning sensation of his facial hair would only enhance your pleasure…

You feel hot just thinking about it.

You end up kissing furiously until your cabin returns to the ground; Laszlo leads you out by the hand, smiling when he sees you having to fix your dress. Neither speaks; but both of you are smiling.

After that, you decide you have had enough of the carnival, and walk to a more quiet spot, a small garden completely empty but for a few dogs being walked by their owners. You find a stone bench, and since there are traces of dirt on the surface Laszlo takes his jacket off to cover it.

“But this way I’ll crumple it!”

“Don’t worry about it; I wouldn’t want your dress to get dirty.” Laszlo explains, insisting so much that in the end you acquiesce and sit on the bench after he has draped his jacket on it, under the branches of a large oak.

“You’re a real gentleman; I really like this side of your personality.” you point out; Laszlo is not the first partner who treats you well, but there is an old-fashioned chivalry in him you can’t help being charmed by “Especially since you, err, already made a good impression on me.”

“Well, you’re a lady; you deserve to be treated with courtesy.”Laszlo explains, now sitting next to you “Especially if…”

“... yes?”

“... nothing. Will you play for me now, as you promised?”

You hesitate for a moment before retrieving your flute from your bag. 

“I warn you, I’m not really good yet.” you apologise; as you told David, a love for music is one thing you and Laszlo have in common, but unlike him, who has released several songs -even though most of them were later stolen and re-arranged by other artists- you’re still learning to play the flute, having taken night classes at a local school when you lived in Santa Carla, and you’re now trying to teach yourself “Maybe we should wait, I don’t want you to think badly of me…”

“I promise I won’t.” Laszlo gently reassures you “Please, I’d love to hear you play.”

While the boys and even Max occasionally agreed to listen to your efforts with the flute, Laszlo is the first who asked you to perform, which you appreciate deeply. Feeling a bit shy but determined to give your best shot, you bring the flute to your lips, close your eyes to better focus and play for a few minutes, choosing a few pieces you have practised recently. Your instrument’s soft notes fill the air, Laszlo’s hand resting on your tight as he listens intently.

“Very well.” he compliments you in the end, and you smile, still embarrassed.

“Don’t say that, I know I’m terrible.”

“Well, of course you’re still learning, but you’re way better than many other musicians who have played as long as you have. I particularly enjoyed that Bach piece.”

You allow yourself to think he’s being sincere, and not simply telling you what you want to hear; the moon is still high in the sky above your heads, but suddenly you wish this night would never end. 

“I… spoke to Nadja about you.” Laszlo mentions after a while, his tone too casual for that nonchalance to be sincere “I mean, I have told her I had met you since our second date, but yesterday we spoke at length.”

“... about me?”

“About you. I hope you don’t mind, but there are no secrets between us.”

You assure Laszlo you could never blame him for not having wanted to keep something from his spouse, but in the privacy of your heart you’re suddenly tense, still fearing Nadja could represent a problem for the two of you. “What… what did you talk about?” you manage to ask, forcing yourself not to wring your hands, as you do sometimes when you’re particularly nervous for something; your anxiety mounts inside you as you see Laszlo hesitate before answering, as if he didn’t know how to - or he had to tell you something he knew would pain you.

“I told Nadja I cared about you very much; more than I have had for anyone in a long time, and that… well, that you are special; beautiful, and clever, and charming. I told her I was serious about us, and I wanted you to be part of my life, for the rest of eternity.”

He looks at you, expecting, you easily understand, a remark about that declaration, sincere and even earnest in its intensity; if you had any doubts regarding the genuineness of his feelings -and you didn’t; well, not really- his words tonight would have dispelled them. You smile warmly as you rest a hand against his cheek, happy and moved, but when you finally speak, it is simply to ask: “And what did Nadja say?”

Laszlo blinks, but if he is disappointed you haven’t returned, or even just commented on, his declaration -and you want to do it, really! You are simply too worried his Maker will try to take him away from you to focus on how to reciprocate- he hides it very well.

“She was happy for me. Even though the two of you have never met I think she has a good opinion of you, after everything I have told her; she even told me she’d like to meet you.”

“... really?”

“Of course. I think you’d be great friends.”

“I’d like to be her friend.” you confess, already a little more at ease “I’ve met very few female vampires in my life, and I still don’t know anyone here in Staten Island apart from you.”

“I’m glad to hear it, because… well…” Laszlo hesitates for a moment, sighs, and then looks away before continuing: “... because I hoped you would consider another relocation.”

“… what?”

“I would like you to move in with me. I know you’re yet to see where I live, and you haven’t met my wife and my flatmates, but if you got along with them, and you thought you could feel at ease there, perhaps you could decide to make it your home as well. I haven’t forgotten your responsibilities, mind you; I know how fond you are of your young friends, and that they need you. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not fully comfortable with, or that you could feel guilty for, but… well, I just wanted to know what I want, and what I feel.”

Laszlo turns to look at you expectantly, but to your shame you are unable to utter a single word, emotion having tied your tongue. The offer -the proposition- is so unexpected you struggle to even just envision it: you don’t dislike sharing your house and having flatmates, but the idea of living under the same roof with his wife is a little odd. Would Laszlo spend a night with you and one with Nadja? Would the three of you share a single bed? Would you and her become… intimate? You’re not necessarily against the idea, but perhaps you should meet her first, and the others as well; if you ended up not getting along, cohabitation would become a nightmare. 

It is, of course, not a decision you can make on the spot; you are responsible for the boys, and no matter how frustrating it is sometimes to clean up their messes and realise you are saddled with four children even though you’re not their Sire, you love them deeply and know they love you. David and the others do need you; if you hadn’t been there they would probably be sleeping in a dump, and have risked their life at least a dozen times since the five of you moved away from Santa Carla. You could never forgive yourself if something were to happen to them because you’re not there to protect them.

You need time to decide. A lot of time, probably. You need to meet Nadja and the other flatmates, and to see their home, and to talk to the boys, and… and…

Laszlo is now looking at you, which is good, because otherwise you wouldn’t be able to kiss him, which you do, hard and long enough to leave both of you breathless - if you could actually breathe, that is. You cup Laszlo’s face in your hands, looking at him as if you had never met him before -his deep and expressive brown eyes, his well-kept beard, his lovely smile- and think you may allow yourself to fall in love with this man, in time.

When you finally part you’re both smiling. You lick your lips, determined to express your feelings properly this time - the joy his proposition has filled your heart with, the excitement you feel at the prospect of sharing his home, how much you care for him and do want your relationship to last, but when you finally “I…” begin, a moment later a very unexpected, unpleasant sound pierces the silence around you, making both you and Laszlo jump.

Your phone is ringing in your bag.

“I’m so sorry, I… I’m turning it off…” you stammer, embarrassed as if it had rung in the middle of a wedding, or while you were at the movies, and after a few seconds spent anxiously rummaging in your bag you finally retrieve your phone, still singing what now sounds like the most obnoxious ringtone ever. You’re about to silence the call and put it back, so that you and Laszlo can return to your conversation… and a moment later your eyes fall on the phone’s display, where the name of the caller is blinking against a background of your favourite colour.

David. 

“Is it one of your friends?”

“Yes, I…”

“It’s fine; please answer.” Laszlo invites you with a wave of his hand; he’s smiling gently, and he obviously understands you didn’t ask to be interrupted, but you can see how hurt he is - disappointed, even, as if that ill-timed interference had led him to imagine the answer his proposal will receive “It could be important.”

Shame is making your cheeks burn, as if you had committed some grave crime; without the courage to look at Laszlo, you answer the call. “What?!” you bark, anger and frustration now filling you “What is it?!”

Silence.

“David? I swear, if this is a joke…”

“(name)...” the leader of the quartet begins in the end, in a meek, almost shy voice you have very rarely heard him use, which confirms your fears. When the boys call you it isn’t necessarily to ask for your help -sometimes they’re bringing back pizza and they want to know what you would like, or they want to pick you up from the diner to bring you to an open-air cinema they have heard about- but they knew you had a date, they wouldn’t disturb you unless something had happened… something important, dramatic, potentially earth-shattering… “I’m so sorry…”

“What happened? Are you all ok?” you ask, anxiety mounting inside you. Laszlo is still by your side, looking at you, but shame and worry stop you from turning to face him; your mind is already filled with terrible images of vampire hunters closing on the boys, wooden stakes in their hands.

“We’re fine… for now. Just, err, there’s a little problem… we have been arrested.”

The phone is this close from falling from your hand.

“You need to help us, (name).” David whispers urgently, anxiety gnawing at his voice “Find a way to get us out...”

“No. I won’t.”

“... what?”

“David, I told you and the others a thousand times you need to start taking care of yourselves without relying on my help; it’s not fair to me, and in any case I can’t always be where you need me to.” you point out, stricter than you’ve ever been when talking to the boys; this is a conversation you have already had a thousand times, but perhaps now that they won’t receive the help they already counted on, David and the others will realise you’re not their mother, and that you have a life of your own - or at least you should have one, dammit! “I don’t know what sort of trouble you have gotten yourself in…”

“Well, we…”

“... and I don’t want to know. There are four of you, all reasonably intelligent; find a solution and a way to return home. I don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the night. It’s time for you to grow up, start taking responsibility…”

“But we’ll die.” David interrupts you, his voice suddenly small; taken aback, you remove your phone from your ear and look at it, as if trying to read an explanation for that gloomy prediction.

“What?!”

“Well… they brought us to a cell, and I thought we could escape by prying the bars open while no one was paying attention to us, but there must be a percentage of silver in the metal, because we can’t even touch them without burning. We tried everything, it’s no use, and… the agents said they will keep us here until ten in the morning, when a judge or someone else comes, I don’t know. (name), there are two windows in the cell. Without shutters.”

You close your eyes, suddenly horrified by the image filling your mind; a tiny brick-walled cell, the four young vampires inside who scream in agony as they burn, flames enveloping their bodies. You have already seen a vampire being exposed to sunlight, after the Vampiric Council had sentenced them to death for some terrible crime: a century and a half later, you still remember the smell of their charred flesh, the torment in their voice as they screamed for help…

“Where are you?” you ask in the end.

“Eighth precinct. Please, (name); I know you were busy, I’m sorry, we…”

You end the call, well aware you have no time for goodbyes and reassurances; you turn to Laszlo, now serious and already worried for those four boys he has never met, and you know you’re both intimately mourning something - a future, maybe, or at least the chance to discuss it.

“They have been arrested, and are going to get burned to a crisp if I don’t intervene.” you explain “I am so sorry; I…”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it most certainly isn’t. Laszlo, I… I wish I could stay here with you; you… you made me so happy, and I do want to… to meet Nadja, and all the rest; but those four idiots have no one else, I can’t let them die. Please, can we… meet tomorrow, or even tonight, if I’m quick…”

“I’m coming with you.” Laszlo announces as he stands, and you stare at him, mouth hanging open.

“What?!”

“I don’t want to stop you from coming to the rescue of your friends; but allow me to come with you.”

Why?, you could ask, but you don’t; even just for moral support, it’s nice to have someone who worries about you. “Thank you.” you murmur gratefully as you stand as well, shoving your phone in your bag “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t mention it, my darling. Now, where are we heading?”

Laszlo immediately proves himself useful, since unlike you he knows how to find the police station of the eighth precinct, that you reach without incident fifteen minutes later. As you drive, your hands gripping the steering wheel with enough force to strangle a man and Laszlo’s hand soothingly resting on your thigh -you could move it a little higher up, you would like to tell him; and you will, you promise yourself, as soon as you have dealt with the umpteenth trouble caused by the boys- you order yourself not to give in to panic, and think; you don’t know yet the charge that caused the arrest of the boys, and in a lawless area like Santa Carla the police mainly left them alone, except for the various security guards of the boardwalk, a few of which were turned into a meal for their trouble. What if they want to keep David and the others behind bars until tomorrow? Thanks to Max you have more than enough money to bribe a few agents, unless you find a particularly zealous one, eager to follow procedure instead of pocketing a few bills in exchange for their help…

“It’s going to be alright.” Laszlo murmurs as you turn left without bothering to use your turn signal, driving into a larger, more trafficked neighbourhood “You need to remain calm, (name); you can’t help your friends if you’re not clear-headed.”

“I know, I know…” you murmur in response, trying to focus on driving instead than on a terrifying, impossible-to-silence thought that keeps filling your mind: that this accident with the boys is not just that, an unfortunate event no one could have foreseen, nor simply the last of a long list of mistakes on their part. It is a sign, a warning - perhaps even a punishment. Just as you contemplated moving away and leaving the boys to their own devices, no longer begging but forcing them to take care of themselves as they are more than old enough to do, destiny or luck or whatever one wants to call it put your young friends, your family, at the risk of death, as if silently pointing out what could happen if you really left and didn’t keep tabs on them constantly. 

It’s been stupid, you think miserably, you barely considered Laszlo’s proposal and look what happened! What could befall the boys if you left for good? None of them has been able to keep a job for more than a week, and the last time David tried to cook you dinner you had to call the fire brigade. In time, through trial and error, they might mature at least a little and learn to look after yourselves, but by that time they could have gotten themselves killed -or worse, revealed their nature to the humans- a hundred times, and you know that until you disappear from their lives for real, or at least move away and switch your phone off, they will always count on you intervening to solve whatever mess they created.

They’re not bad boys; but they’re a bit lazy, and childish, and reckless, like most people their age. You didn’t ask to be saddled with the responsibility of their well-being, but that was given to you nonetheless, and what can you do if not your utmost to protect them?

Bitter, helpless tears fill your eyes, but you dry them quickly as thanks to Laszlo’s precise instructions the eighth precinct finally appears in front of you, a small building squeezed between a minimarket and a tattoo studio, unlike it obviously closed given the late hour. You park your car in the first space you find, and then sigh, resting your forehead against the steering wheel. “I can’t believe it! I am so sorry, I had hoped we could spend a night together, just enjoying a bit of peace and each other’s company…”

Laszlo gently assures you that he knows, that he appreciates it, and that he doesn’t blame you for having had to interrupt your date. “Shall we go inside to find your friends?” he asks then, and nodding tiredly you follow him out of the car, anxious and disgruntled in equal measure; there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to save David and the others, but once they’re safe, you promise yourself, you’ll make them regret the day they were born!

Having walked to the precinct, you explain to the guard at the entrance that you are the boys’ lawyer -and, err, my assistant- and you came to discuss the charges against them at the request of their family.

“Can we come in?” you inquire in your sweetest tone.

“Door’s open, lady.”

“Yes, but can we come in?”

“Yeah, yeah, go on.” the uniformed man concedes in the end, not suspecting the true reason behind your request and perhaps thinking you’re simply an overpolite person; Laszlo smiles approvingly at you, and you return it before preceding him inside.

You cross a dimly lit corridor to reach a large room mainly occupied by several cluttered desks; sitting at one of them is the only person present, a plain-clothed middle-aged woman who stands to meet you.

“Detective Borgess.” she introduces herself as she shakes your hand “You must be here for the boys.” 

“I am. I am their lawyer, (full name). Can you tell me what happened?”  

Detective Borgess can, and does, recounting what is basically a gigantic stroke of bad luck. An hour before, she and her partner were coming out from a sandwich shop at the end of a break when, walking past a back-alley on their way back to the precinct, they stumbled upon the boys, gathered around the bodies of two recently, very recently killed men.

“Which means you didn’t see my f… my clients kill them; the bodies might have been there already.” you point out, hoping to soften her stance; your experience with the role of a lawyer is limited to a few tv shows you put on and half-listen to as you clean the house, and unfortunately Borgess doesn’t seem the sort of person who lets herself be influenced easily.  

“Ma’am, your clients weren’t simply standing in a circle looking at the two victims as if they had simply stumbled upon them and were deciding what to do to help; they were holding them up in their arms, passing the victims among them like a beer bottle to share. For a moment I actually thought they were…” she shudders “It doesn’t matter. In any case your boys’ hands were bloodstained, and they were alone with the bodies in a dead-end street. Who else could have done it?”

“And why should they have done it? Had the victims been mugged?”

You’re pretty confident of the answer you will receive, since you know the boys unburden their victims of wallets, phones and other things they can use or sell only after having fed, but as you feared, Burgess is not convinced. Tall and strong, she faces you, her arms to her chest and her gun hanging from her waist.

“That doesn’t matter. Besides, those four do look suspicious.” she points out “Not a personal document among them, they have asked me to board the windows in their cell up but refused to say why, and as we searched them I noticed all of them have a smallpox vaccine scar like people who received it fifty years ago do, even though none of them can be older than twenty. Where the hell did they come from?” 

“So you’re considering them suspicious because they cared for their health enough to get vaccinated?” you insist; you’re improvising, desperately trying to find a way to convince this woman to release your friends, but to no avail. Detective Burgess, now also half-convinced you’re making a fool of her, informs you she has the right to detain the boys for twenty-four hours, and she plans on using that time to trace their identity and analyse the crime scene, which will probably yield evidence enough to pin the crime on the boys. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up behind bars for the next thirty years.” she concludes matter-of-factly, but the length of the sentence is the least of your worries; dawn is in less than five hours, and if you don’t find a way to free the boys before then they’ll end up charred and dead as soon as the sun rises.

You have no choice: you’ll have to do this the hard way. You tense, ready to attack; you wouldn’t be surprised to find out Detective Burgess does mixed martial arts in her spare time or is an Olympic-level shooter, but her strength, as well as the weapon at her hip, will prove futile against your vampiric powers. You’ll subdue her, smashing her face against the wall or breaking her arm as you usually do in such cases, and order her to free the boys and destroy any proof of their presence at the precinct; and then, obviously, you’ll have to kill her, but now that you think about it you haven’t fed in a couple of nights, and you may as well make use of this woman before discarding her…

“Miss (last name)? Is everything alright? I can bring you to your clients now, and I’d strongly encourage them to…”  

“All right, that is enough.”

Laszlo, who has until now lingered by your side, silently witnessing your complete fiasco as you spoke to the Detective, suddenly takes a step forward, and before either of you has time to react, lifts a hand in front of the woman’s eyes.

“Now you’ll stop bothering the lady, and will set her friends free without delay.” he orders, his tone composed “Now, chop chop. What are you waiting for, wench?”

You had completely forgotten Laszlo has the gift of hypnosis, the first of your kind with this particular talent you have ever met; he had mentioned he often makes use of it to escape embarrassing situations or simply to get rid of people who bother him and his friends, and you can’t deny it comes right on cue. Detective Burgess’s determined, vaguely suspicious attitude melts as a blank expression fills her face; without complaining, moving slowly and deliberately like a sleepwalker, she retrieves an heavy set of keys from a drawer of her desk, and then guides you along another corridor, with the cells at the other side of it.

“Hey, the cavalry has come!”

The cell is barely large enough for the four boys, empty except for the metal benches that you imagine also serve as beds; they smile, relieved and delighted as they see you come and especially when they realise Detective Burgess is going to let them go, but the murderous expression on your face is enough to make them much meeker.

“(name)...” David, as usual the spokesman, begins, but you have neither the interest nor the patience to listen.

“Shut up. Shut up, all of you.” you add quickly, seeing the other boys prepare to talk as well, no doubt to plead their case; ignoring them, you turn to talk to Laszlo: “Can you please ask her if someone else knows that these four idiots have been here, and in that case if she can call them? We also need to destroy any evidence.”

Your friend complies, ordering Burgess to call her partner, who was with her when they stumbled upon the boys. Detective Mendoza, who was taking a smoke break in the back, is immediately alarmed when he sees the four suspects out of their cell, but Laszlo is quick to hypnotise him as well, and orders the man to destroy any trace of the boys’ passage at the precinct. Fortunately, given the fact less only little more than an hour has passed since the incident and David and the others have refused to tell the Detectives their names, they haven’t been formally accused, nor did the Detectives try to take the boys’ picture, and it takes Burgess two minutes to deliver a couple of half-compiled modules to the shredder and tear out the page of the precinct’s register on which the arrest had been annotated.  

“Did someone else see you?” you ask, hoping -against all hope, because your night has already gone to shit, why on earth would something go well tonight? When ever did having to fix the boys’ mess did not mean sacrificing your own time and happiness?- to receive a negative answer, because it would be impossible to track down those witnesses to erase their memory as well. 

The boys, who know about your and Laszlo’s friendship but have never met him, observe him with brazen curiosity, and it’s only when you, already fed up with the whole matter, insist, that they inform you that the only witnesses of the incident are the passers-by who saw the Detectives arrest them, and whose presence stopped David and the others from killing Burgess and Mendoza to get rid of them.

“How many?” 

“... just a few. It’s not a problem, (name), seriously…”

“How many, David?!”

“... six or seven. Ok, maybe a dozen.” he admits, looking like a six-year-old confessing he has stolen the last chocolate cookie from the tin “But at a distance, they can’t have seen us well in the face! We’re sorry, (name)...”

“Yeah, (nickname), we didn’t do it on purpose…”

“Silence.”

“It’s been an accident, we didn’t mean to…”

“I said silence!” you exclaim, now furious and scared in equal measure, to the point you can’t even stand to be in their presence anymore. You love these four like the brothers you no longer have and you know they didn’t mean to cause you trouble, that this time at least it was partially a stroke of bad luck as much as their fault, but your patience has run out; once again, you had to intervene to fix a mess you didn’t cause, only a few hours after you expressly asked them to be careful, which also meant interrupting the first night you and Laszlo had to spend together after a long while. Had your friend not intervened, these four would have probably died in that cell, and even now, thanks to the people who witnessed their arrest, you cannot be fully sure their carelessness won’t come to bite you in the ass “I don’t want to hear any of you speak until further notice. Now let’s just get out of here.”

David and the others, well aware they deserve to be reprimanded and even more, obey without complaining, their heads bent low. 

Two minutes later the five of you are gathered next to your car. Laszlo has ordered Burgess and Mendoza to forget the whole affair, from having seen the boys with their victims, to their arrest, to having met you and him; finally, amazingly scrupulous as he is, he also cancelled the memory of the agent at the door, leaving the whole eighth precinct unaware of your existence. You don’t know what has become of the bodies of the two men David and the others killed, but you hope their murder will remain unsolved, or at least that no one will connect the bite wounds on their necks to the nowadays ubiquitous vampire legends, that someone could be led to take seriously, enough to investigate whether bloodsuckers actually exist... 

But that’s a worry for another night; now, as usual, you have to deal with the boys, and then thank Laszlo for his providential help.

“I want the four of you to go home, now.” you order, immediately met by a chorus of protests.

“But it’s hours before dawn!”

“(name), we couldn’t even feed properly from those two…”

“Yeah, David’s right, we’re hungry…”

“You’ve fed just two nights ago.” you point out. The boys’ latest meal was a family of tourists who had the unfortunate idea of stopping them to ask for directions; David and the others drank their fill, except for the eldest daughter, who they brought home for you knowing you prefer female blood. Very thoughtful of them, you have to admit “You’ll be ok for at least two more.”

“Yeah, but…”

“No buts. Do you understand what could have happened? What could still happen?” you ask, meeting the eyes of each of the boys in turn; you feel like a grade school teacher reprimanding a quartet of mischievous pupils, and perhaps you do sound ridiculous, given the thousands of times you have done this already in the last century, but you don’t care. You feel angry, and tired, and you can’t stand this anymore “A dozen witnesses! News of what you did could spread to the whole city before mid-morning, and even go viral! What if the fact that the victims were bitten on the neck becomes public? Even if there weren’t vampire hunters here in Staten Island, anyone could make a connection! Have you already forgotten what happened to Max? Or maybe you remember, but you don’t care?”

The boys bend their heads; as stubborn as they usually are when forced to face the consequences of their actions, they must recognize this time they really got away by the skin of their teeth.

“We’re sorry, (name).” David finally answers for the four of them; he’s serious as he looks you in the eyes, unafraid but respectful, unlike what he used to do with Max “We fucked up; we’re sorry, especially because we had to call you. We tried to be careful, but…”

You know; you have to admit that tonight was not fully their fault, but this doesn’t comfort you at all - quite the opposite, actually. Even when they try to be careful, bad luck gets them into trouble; whoever or whatever is at fault, the boys simply can’t survive on their own, but they need you -or Laszlo, in this specific case- to take care of them and get them out of trouble. How can you abandon them, no matter how frustrating and limiting it is to renounce your dreams and aspirations to protect these four? How can you accept Laszlo’s invitation, knowing fully well that any night, any moment, could be the one they die, either because they couldn’t find shelter from the sun in time or because a hunter has outsmarted them?

The answer is simple: you can’t. At least, you can’t leave them alone. Suddenly you remember of all the times Laszlo has mentioned his friend Nandor’s familiar Guillermo, who takes care of the needs of the whole household. Could this be the solution?, you wonder, feeling as if a lightbulb had gone on above your head; what if you can find someone else to assume that responsibility, maybe more than one someone since they’d have four vampires to look after, provided you find someone suitable, strong and trustworthy, to clean up their mess…

It’s an… interesting idea; one to seriously consider, and in time to discuss with the boys. Maybe Guillermo himself could help, you’re sure he knows other familiars or people who would perform the task appropriately. Who knows, perhaps a solution that makes all of you happy -and safe- does exist, and you won’t have to sacrifice your and Laszlo’s relationship for the good of your friends…

“All right, let’s be done with it, at least for tonight.” you decide out loud; you are exhausted, and you can’t wait to put an end to the matter, and to this night that couldn’t have gone more disastrously different from what you had hoped “Where are your bikes?”

David mentions a spot close to the alley where Burgess and Mendoza had found them; it’s a few miles from where you are, which means, you realise with a sigh, your night does end here. “I’ll drive you.”

“There’s no need, (name)...”

“Of course there is; after what happened today I won’t let you out of my sight until you’re safe at home. Before you go, I think you should all thank Laszlo for getting you out of trouble.”

As you imagined, Laszlo gallantly tries to minimise the importance of his intervention, assuring you he was happy to help his fellow vampires, especially friends of yours; nonetheless, the boys are well aware that hadn’t it been for him maybe they’d still be behind bars, doomed to burn up to a crisp as soon as the sun rose. 

“Thank you, pal; seriously, we owe you.” David points out for all, offering a hand Laszlo vigorously shakes “So you can hypnotise people? I could use a talent like that.”

“Unfortunately it is not a gift that can be taught; but when I was your age I hadn’t developed it yet, so you never know, you could still learn it.”

“You sure you didn’t hypnotise (name) to convince her to go out with you?” 

“Paul!” you reprimand him; he is obviously joking, but it is still in bad taste.

Laszlo doesn’t bat an eye, simply explaining that his hypnosis doesn’t work on other vampires. He and the boys speak for a couple more minutes, at ease with one another despite the vast differences in personality and upbringing; in the end, the boys get in your car - the others squeezing in the back and David on the passenger seat. 

“You take your time, alright? We’ll wait here as you thank your friend.” he invites you, his tone just a little bit suggestive, as the others giggle behind him. You roll your eyes as you turn, wondering whether the four of them are too old and tall to be put across your knee, and meet eyes with Laszlo, who silently follows you a few paces away.

“Thank you.” you murmur; you’re not embarrassed to admit you’re in his debt, for once the one who had to receive help instead of giving it, but you still regret the direction the night has taken, depriving you of a much-waited for night together “Really, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry I -well, they- ruined everything, I really couldn’t wait for our date tonight…”

Laszlo takes your hand in his as he assures you have no need to thank him; you would have surely found a way to set your friends free, if nothing else simply bashing Burgess’ face against the wall until she begged for mercy and submitted to your every request, and he’s happy he could help you. “Fine lads, the four of them.” 

“You really think so? They didn’t exactly give the best of themselves tonight.”

“They were unlucky, which happens to the best of us; but they clearly care for you a great deal… and they need to be protected even more.”

A slightly tense silence falls on the two of you, as you are both tacitly reminded of the conversation you were having when David’s call interrupted you. Even before you could consider his proposal, Laszlo had the chance to see how seriously the boys need to be protected, how quickly their lives are put at stake without you watching over them; he has probably lost any hope to hear you accept to move in with you, and maybe he’s even regretting approaching the subject.

But he shouldn’t, you think desperately, he mustn’t, because he made you so happy asking you, happier than you remember being in a long time, and you do want to protect the boys, because they are a part of you, your family, and you’ll always care for them no matter what, but Laszlo is important for you as well, you care for him in a way words can’t describe, and what you share is still young and new, at least from the point of view of immortal beings as you are, but you know already it’s special, and true, and precious, and you want to protect it.

“About what we talked about…”

“You don’t need to say anything…”

“No, I want to.” you rush to reassure him “I… I do want to do it. At least, I’d very much like to meet Nadja and your other flatmates, and if we get along, well, I’d have to think carefully about it, but moving in with you would be great. Lovely, really, because you, Laszlo… you - I mean, I… I feel…” 

There is so much you would like to tell him, but you soon find yourself stammering, your feelings maybe too deep and intense to be put into words; and it’s frustrating, and embarrassing, because Laszlo is right in front of you, a moment before you need to part so that you can drive the boys home, and after the complete disaster your night has turned into you at least want him to know how much you care for him, but suddenly you feel your tongue is stuck to your palate. The last thing you want is for Laszlo to doubt your feelings, and since you can’t talk about them, you decide, the only thing you can do is show him. 

So you do.

You don’t care about the need to bring the boys home as soon as possible, nor of them being close enough to see clearly what you are doing; you’re with Laszlo, and this is enough to make you feel happy, and hopeful, and much bolder than you usually are. You place your hand on the back of Laszlo’s head, your fingers slipping through his dark, lucid hair, and he’s quick to circle your waist with his arm, drawing your body close to his. A moment later you’re kissing furiously, and in the last three months you have already exchanged more kisses than you can count, all sweet and passionate and that never last long enough, not even for people who don’t need to breathe like the two of you, but this is special, this is magic, the sort of kisses romance novelist have done their best to describe since the dawn of time. It’s the sort of kiss you can’t help losing yourself into, and you do, easily ignoring the boys whistling and hollering only a few paces away. 

“You go, (name)!” they shout, clapping as if they were attending a show, and neither you nor Laszlo pay them any mind; his tongue brushes against yours, making you shiver in such a delicious way, your hips slowly grinding against his. You grin at each other as you finally part, his hands slipping to rest possessively on your waist.

“I’ll find a way.” you murmur; you don’t say I promise, but you’ve never been as convinced of something as you are of the commitment you’re making right now “I swear I will; and if I can’t find one, I’ll make it.”

“We’ll do it together, my darling.” Laszlo promises, his voice full of affection “You make me very happy, you know?”

You rest your foreheads against each other -and in the car the boys protest you’re embarrassing them and they’re still too young and impressionable to witness a scene like that- and you know that if you linger some more with each other it will be impossible to stop, and so you’re forced to part. Laszlo kisses your hand, and asks for the pleasure of your company tomorrow night, after you’ve gotten off work, so that he can walk you to his home.

“I’d really like that.” you answer, as excited as you were on the eve of your first date, three months ago, and Laszlo smiles, relieved and happy. 

“So until tomorrow, miss (last name).”

“Until tomorrow, mister Cravensworth.” you answer with a slight curtsey, and a moment later you’re waving him goodbye, your gaze raised to observe the bat taking to the skies behind the treetops. 

[the-vampire-queer]

The Vampires Digital Media Poll: Round 1, Bracket 6

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Results get posted on December 10th. at 5PM CST.

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If you wish to learn more about your options, either as a refresher or an introduction, press the "Keep reading" button.

What is What We Do in the Shadows (2019) about?

Summary: "Based on the feature film of the same name from Jemaine Clement and Taika Waititi, "What We Do in the Shadows" is a documentary-style look into the daily (or rather, nightly) lives of four vampires who've "lived" together for hundreds of years in Staten Island.The self-appointed leader of the group is Nandor the Relentless, a great warrior and conqueror from the Ottoman Empire. Then there's the British vampire Laszlo -- a bit of a rogue and a dandy and a fop, he might say. He's a lover of mischief and a great soirée, but not as much as he loves seeing Nandor fail miserably in every attempt. And then there's Nadja: the seductress, the temptress, the vampiric Bonnie to Laszlo's Clyde. Also cohabiting in the vampire household is Guillermo, Nandor's familiar; and Colin Robinson, an energy vampire and day-walker of sorts -- he feasts on humans, but not on their blood." Source: Rotten Tomatoes

Source: What We Do in the Shadows (2019)

Cast:

Kayvan Novak - Nandor the Relentless

Matt Berry - Laszlo Cravensworth

Natasia Demetriou - Nadja ...

Harvey Gullién - Guillermo de la Cruz

Mark Proksch - Colin Robinson

Additional information: This tv series is based off of the 2014 Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement film of the same name.

What is Renfield (2023) about?

Summary: "In this modern monster tale of Dracula's loyal servant, Nicholas Hoult (Mad Max: Fury Road, X-Men franchise) stars as Renfield, the tortured aide to history's most narcissistic boss, Dracula (Oscar® winner Nicolas Cage). Renfield is forced to procure his master's prey and do his every bidding, no matter how debased. But now, after centuries of servitude, Renfield is ready to see if there's a life outside the shadow of The Prince of Darkness. If only he can figure out how to end his codependency." Source: Rotten Tomatoes

Source: Renfield (2023)

Cast:

Nicholas Hoult - R.M. Renfield

Nicolas Cage - Dracula

Awkwafina - Rebecca

Ben Schwartz - Teddy Lobo

Shohreh Aghdashloo - Bellafrancessca Lobo

Additional information: There was a video game that released on Steam for this movie, titled Renfield: Bring Your Own Blood.

[deadthingposting]

I don't know of anyone else had made this post but I stated thinking about the Names in what we do in the shadows so i googled the meanings and Holy fuck I don't regret

So

Starting with Guillermo

His name is a Hispanic version of the name Willehem or William that means fierce protector and de La Cruz means of the Cross, but this isn't just a reference to his status as a vampire killer as the cross is usually a metaphor for sacrifice and pain his name is literally "overprotective of his sacrifice " which is perfect for him as Guillermo do spend most of his time actively taking care of things that cause him suffering

Now Nadja we don't have her maiden name but her first name means Hope her name is Hope of Antipaxos and again fucking perfect as Nadja ad a character is full of a cruel sense if eternal Hope she is the only surviving child of 17 siblings survived extreme poverty and all other horrible things and of course she is tied to her land her homeland despite being far from it she is from antipaxos and proud despite the place being called many times by the show "small" and quite shitty

Now Laszlo is interesting as his name fells opossite to him his name means glorious Ruler, his last name is Cravensworth doesn't have a translation but it can be separated in two parts Cravens meaning coward and worth meaning value or valuable so his name Would be Glorious Ruler coward worthy, Laszlo hates to rule he is disgusted with the idea to take leadership of the vampiric council, he is far from a coward he does runaway sometimes but he takes many chances to be brave (defending Guillermo, choosing Nadja, killing gregor) but the worthy part it depends on what is considered worthy as if we take a nobleman concept of worthiness he isn't he is a whoreman married to a peasant who drinks blood and prefer arts not policts so he isn't worthy of the noble class

(He is also called Leslie the name translates to holly garden which is apparently a reference to the Holly plant a plant associated with fertility and eternal life also red like blood)

Now nandor the relentless , Nandor means bold voyager or journey prepared, and oh my God the layers on this, like starting with the second part of his name relentless it's pretty obvious thus mf will die before admiting doing anything less than perfect or great but the traveler part it's just sweet Nandor is in need of change that's the point of his character he needs to move forward to travel not on a literal sense but on a emotional sense to mature and grow to learn, he is a brave character who needs to move to stop being stagnant.

Now collin is so interesting like Collin means Victory of the people and Robinson means son of Robert and Robert in it self means bright fame and I dont know what to associate him with except his short campaign for comptroller bit like his real name Arthur Simon santino is more interesting Arthur means Strong as a bear Simon to be heard santino means little Saint, Strong as a bear we all saw how he can be OP in the episode he overfed the irony of a energy vampire being named "to be heard" just gets me and little saint I can only think of his time as baby Colin

So yeah I just went on this rabbit hole I know the shit and farts comedy show wouldn't think so deep about this but I do and I really liked okay

[lorelodge]

MUSE LIST

---

PIRATES

Frenchie

Synopsis: Born as a bastard son to an aristocrat & his servant, Frenchie has spent much of his life neither being seen nor heard. He grew up in the servants quarter with his mum and spent much of his free time singing to flowers of the manors gardens. Determined to see the world, he would eventually leave home scraping and scamming to get by. However, his prospects have much improved since then. Having learned to sail while serving on the Queen Anne's Revenge, Frenchie has gone from musician to captain in a very short period of time. Was there a possible mistake when counting the votes? Perhaps. But a captain he is. May God have mercy on his ill-equipped ass.

Orientation: homosexual & demiromantic.

Shipping: Izzy Hands (main); selectively open.

Occupation: musician; sailor.

Verses: Our Flag Means Death (canon), Gen. Modern, Modern: Musician, Stranger Things, Apocalypse, Western, Supernatural; Medieval Fantasy.

Roach

Synopsis: Nicknamed after one of the few creatures who could survive nuclear war, Roach is as wily and hardcore as his namesake. After being driven out of his hometown, Roach bounced from ship to ship serving as cook, surgeon, and occasional interrogator. The Queen Anne's Revenge is the one ship he's felt settled on. He considers the crew family & will do whatever he can to keep their bellies full of good food.

Orientation: pansexual & bordering aromantic.

Shipping: Wee John (main); open & poly.

Occupation: cook; impromptu surgeon.

Verses: Our Flag Means Death (canon), Gen. Modern, Apocalypse, Western, Supernatural.

Edward Teach

Synopsis: Edward Teach, born on a beach. At least, that's how the saying goes. The truth is much less mystical. He was born in Bristol to a family so poor they barely owned the shirts off their backs; Ed has been breathing salt since he was born, and tying rope for near as long. Between his sailing prodigy & the common sense of his first mate, Izzy Hands, Ed has created an ageless pirating legacy. However, in recent years he has grown bored of the constant violence and has chosen to retire with his boyfriend, Stede Bonnet. They now run Jim's Inn where everyone is welcome. Unless your a dick about forks. You can fuck off if you're a dick about forks.

Orientation: homosexual & homoromantic.

Shipping: Stede Bonnet (main) & Izzy Hands; closed.

Occupation: captain (canon).

Verses: Our Flag Means Death (canon), Gen. Modern, Modern: Musician, Western, Hunger Games, Supernatural.

Jim Jimenez

Synopsis: Jim was born to kill, at least, that's what they were taught to believe. They were adopted by nuns after witnessing the murders of their entire family. The church was like no other & the nuns there raised Jim to be an assassin. There life became one focused on revenge. It wasn't until they met Oluwande that light crept back into their life. With Olu's help they have exchanged solitude for a family aboard the Queen Anne's Revenge. They currently serve as the Revenge's master-at-arms.

Orientation: pansexual & panromantic.

Shipping: Oluwande Bloodhari (main); open & poly.

Occupation: sailor: master of arms (canon); muscle gun for hire (modern)

Verses: Our Flag Means Death (canon), Gen. Modern, Supernatural, Western.

William Turner Sr

Synopsis: The third in a long line of carpenters named William, he most often goes by Bill or Billy. Although he started off as an honest sailor, Bill's life would change upon meeting Jack. A life of freedom served him far better than he could have imagined. He became intoxicated by the freedom he was provided. Still a mild tempered and affable man, Bill's desire to roam the seas forever was a selfish one, and often caused him to leave his son for months at a time.

Orientation: bisexual & biromantic.

Shipping: Jack Sparrow (shhhh); open.

Occupation: sailor (canon); carpenter (modern)

Verses: Pirates of the Caribbean (canon), Gen. Modern, Supernatural.

SPOOPY

Laszlo Cravensworth

Synopsis: Laszlo Cravensworth was born in 1685 to a wealthy but emotionally distant aristocratic British family. Despite his privileged upbringing he was a rather miserable sod until he met his (eventual) wife, Nadja. The night they met she killed and turned him into a vampire. Laszlo's death proved to a chance at a new beginning and for the past three centuries he has gone through life doing what makes him happy (sucking and fucking, mostly).Throughout his immortal life he has been a cult member of Baron Afanas', a pirate, an inspiration for Freud, and Jack the Ripper.Often accused of being lazy, Laszlo is a man with many passing fixations. He has a love for the arts, especially music, and prefers to pursue hedonistic pleasures than power or acclaim.

Orientation: pansexual & demiromantic.

Shipping: Nadja of Antipaxos (main); selectively open & poly

Occupation: lawyer (former); vampire

Verses: What We Do In The Shadows (canon), Gen. Modern (mortal), Apocalypse, Hunger Games.

Baron Afanas

Synopsis: Baron Afanas was born in Kievan Rus' in 1010 a.d. He was stolen from his family at a very young age and sold into slavery. To increase his value he was made an eunuch before reaching puberty. His later disgust for humans stems largely from his trauma as a human man. Furthermore, his sire is the grand sire whom he traveled with for several centuries.

• Baron has served as a member of the vampiric council. • He traveled with a coven of vampire supremacists for a good portion of his life. • The majority of those vampires were eventually killed by Van Helsing. • He began his own cult/coven in the 1400's starting with Nadja. Everyone in this coven was sired by Baron (sans Laszlo). • He used to have considerable more reach and power but by the 1800's his views were considered laughably fringe.

Orientation: pansexual & demisexual

Shipping: Carlisle Cullen (main); selectively open.

Occupation: cult leader (canon); priest (modern)

Verses: What We Do in the Shadows (main), gen. Modern.

Lestat de Lioncourt

Synopsis: As brave as he was beautiful, Lestat was destined to turn heads & woo hearts no matter where he went. It was near inevitable that an old country vampire such as Magnus would feel compelled to abduct & turn him. Made the heir of a fortune moments before his sire set himself ablaze, Lestat has spent much of his vampire life battling against crippling loneliness. He is known to turn others on a whim in order to fend of his own demons.

Orientation: bisexual & homoromantic.

Shipping: Louis Pointe du Lac (main); selectively open.

Occupation: actor (canon); Rockstar (modern).

Verses: Interview With the Vampire (canon), Modern: Musician (mortal).

Dean Winchester

Synopsis: Born in Lawrence, Kansas as the son of a former (Mary) and future (John) hunters, Dean's occupation was set in stone before he took his first breath. The death of his mother marked the end of Dean's childhood. Since then it's been a series of motels and long days on the road. Dean has been to heaven, hell, and purgatory. He has lived the lives of a monster and hunter. These experiences have left their mark but have never destroyed his desire to protect those he loves and put good out into the world.

Orientation: bisexual & undetermined

Shipping: open.

Occupation: monster hunter (canon); firefighter (alt. Modern)

Verses: Supernatural, alt modern.

Rowena MacLeod

Synopsis: Rowena has always known that she was different. She was born as nothing more than the lowly daughter of an impoverished miller; the ability to harness powerful magic ran in her bloodline. However, it would only be after a decade and a half of heartache that Rowena learned the valuable lesson of putting herself first. Her small Scottish town was unable to contain her and she happily abandoned her mortal life in hope of finding a coven of like-minded magic users. Rowena is a 300 year old, natural born witch who long ago rejected her mortal coils. Known for being selfish, petty, and vengeful. Those who encounter her often leave worse for wear.

Orientation: pansexual & panromantic

Shipping: open

Occupation: witch

Verses: Supernatural (main)

Felix Costanzo

Synopsis: In in the depths of St. Louis, New Orleans there lives a vampire known as Lestat & his rat-catcher fledgling, Felix. His human life was pleasantly average. Born and raised in New Orleans, Felix was the eldest child & only son to a single mother of four. His childhood was spent looking after a gaggle of misfits. He chose to stay behind behind after high school. Getting a job at a local guitar shop and slowly building up a loyal following as a gaming streamer. His mundane life was cut short by Lestat de Lioncourt who turned him into a vampire. Now a creature of the night he lives isolated from humans in a studio apartment, catching rats for his sire & gaming until the sun rises.

Orientation: Bisexual

Shipping: open

Occupation: twitch streamer.

Verses: Supernatural (canon), Modern: Musician, Modern: University.

NORMIES

Cyrus Monteagudo

Synopsis: Cyrus was born with a congenital amputation of his left arm. However, this condition has always been his normal. Though things my have been more difficult at times he refused to be held back. He and his step-brother made the varsity wrestling team. He graduated college as a NCAA DII wrestler before deciding to move in to the relatively new sport of professional MMA. He went on to fight in several organizations but was never able to win a title. He retired right before his 30th birthday. However, he maintained his love of sports and chose to become an occupational therapist. Many of his clients are former fighters learning to live with hip & knee replacements.

Orientation: undetermined

Shipping: open

Occupation: MMA fighter (former) & occupational therapist (current)

Verses: gen. Modern

Jeremy Russek

Synopsis: Jeremy moved to Hawkins with his family the summer before his Sophomore year of high school. He an amateur ghost hunter, cryptologist, and documentarian. After learning about the disappearances & deaths happening around Hawkins Jeremy is hot on the trail. He is a member of the student paper and photography club.

Orientation: undetermined.

Shipping: open

Occupation: cameraman & producer.

Verses: Stranger Things (canon), Supernatural, gen. Modern.

Axel Gustavson

Synopsis: Brash, loudmouthed, and full of spite. The assumption may be that Axel was raised on the streets. Truth is they were a normal, apple pie family...at least on the surface. He was a rejected Dr. Brenner subject; adopted by two researchers who took pity on him. As a teenager Axel rebelled in an effort to reclaim agency over his life. Eventually he met Kali who persuaded him to leave California for good. Axel making the second member of her gang.

Orientation: bisexual (closeted) & biromantic; selectively open.

Shipping: open (if you dare).

Occupation: scum bag.

Verses: Stranger Things (canon).

Oliver Campbell

Synopsis: Oliver was the youngest of four sons to a wealthy English-Irish family. He was a rambunctious young lad who never quite lived up to his brothers achievements. His friendship and eventual romance with Izzy Hands led them to eventually join the Navy. Note: In his canon verse he dies a few years after joining the Navy, although this can be altered for my partners.

Orientation: bisexual & biromantic

Shipping: Sloane (main) & Izzy Hands (secondary); selectively open-ish.

Occupation: being pretty. ABS - Navyman (canon); IRA member & mechanic (modern).

Verses: Pirates of the Caribbean (canon), Gen. Modern

Adam Brannigan

Synopsis: Despite being born into the infamous Teague pirate family, Adam has never wanted that sort of life. His strict moral compass and aversion to the unpredictable led to him reject the family occupation. With the help of his brothers and their contacts Adam eventually left Shipwreck. He created a new identity in London, studying law, and eventually opening his own practice.

Orientation: heterosexual & heteroromantic

Shipping: Mary Ann (wife); closed.

Occupation: lawyer

Verses: Pirates of the Caribbean (canon), Gen. Modern

[thesimonthedevious]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62942068/chapters/161180698

Name: Murder On The Dancefloor (The EeVCoCuhr) Synopsis: Laszlo and Anya must learn to raise the Baby Colin Robinson, and stand strong against interferences; old lovers, the EVCoCR (Energy Vampire Council of Child Rearing), someone trying to take over the Council. Some of these are the same thing. When their housemates return, Nandor, Nadja and Guillermo will discover that everything has fallen apart even more than they could have anticipated.

Chapter Synopsis: Simon mulls over what he's done to Anya, whilst Laszlo and Anya experience their first - and surely not their last - visit from the Energy Vampire Council of Child Rearing.

Crossing the road, the pair raised their heads suspiciously as they saw a figure standing at their front door. The middle aged woman turned. Her skirt suit was lovely, but Anya noticed each piece was a different shade of beige. How annoying.   “Mr Cravensworth?” she inquired on the approach.  “No.” Laszlo said firmly, opening the door for Anya before walking in. The woman jammed her foot in before he could shut it properly, hissing in pain and Laszlo slowly opened it again.   “That is Colin Robinson, yes?” she pointed to the Boy, and Laszlo turned a little to try and hide the infant from her. “My name is Nancy Smith, I’m a social worker for the Energy Vampire Council of Child Rearing.” she showcased her badge hanging from a lanyard, making Anya and Laszlo wince. “I have been made aware that his Partner-Parent hasn’t reported in.”  “What?” Laszlo snapped, barely understanding a word she was saying.  

[asmodeus-fallen-principality]

((Information about Asmodeus!))

Name: Asmodeus

Nicknames/Aliases: A.S. Morris. Samael calls him “Mo”, which is fine, or “Momo”, which he hates, it’s so undignified-

Age/Date of Birth/Place of Birth: Older than time/Before time began/Heaven

Species: Demon/Fallen Angel

Gender/Pronouns: Technically agender, fine with corporation being seen as “male”, he/him

Sexuality: Technically asexual, sex-positive, pan…something (he’s. Experimented. With various humans of various genders.) (But, really, they were all stand-ins for a certain someone.)

Appearance: Asmodeus looks much like Aziraphale does, except with straight, white, combed-back hair rather than blond curls. His eyes are black and look human, but he always wears gloves to cover up patches of white snakeskin on the back of his hands and up his arms. Has quite heavy under-eye eyeliner tattooed on (it came with his corporation, he can’t get rid of it). Wouldn’t be caught dead in anything other than black. Blatantly refuses to wear anything more modern than 19th century attire (think Laszlo Cravensworth, but with zero rhinestones). All the emo kids in London see him as an icon.

Personality/History: A fussy demon. Rather quiet, gothic, and always looks sad and distant, though he’d tell you “I can’t help how my face looks”. Basically, Aziraphale with clinical depression instead of clinical anxiety. Eternally tired. Relieved to be anywhere but Hell. Owns an antique museum/restoration workshop, incredibly minimalist and sparse, with rather clinical glass displays for the most delicate pieces. Intimidates said antiques into staying in one piece with an incredibly cold demeanor. Secretly sends donations to keep all the second-hand bookstores running. Files reports so meticulously and perfectly that Hell is suspicious about them (most reports are scribbled on the back of a bit of cardboard). Looks like he desperately needs a cup of tea, or a hug, at all times. He didn’t mean to Fall. He just… stumbled down the wrong staircase.

His first assignment from Hell was to tempt the first humans into sin, but he didn’t want to damn them like he had been damned, so he curled up in the first tree he found and went to sleep. Eve befriended him, and asked if the apples were his. He said no, and there was no sign…well, he took credit for it in his report, but it was an unfortunate situation. Those humans didn’t deserve to be kicked out, surely. Unless that was part of the plan all along…?

Anyway, that poor angel (the starmaker he’d once admired so!) was very upset by it; and it wasn’t very demonic of Asmodeus to comfort him, but you try looking at Samael’s sad little face and ignoring it. Still, he’d best leave it at that. It wouldn't do for a demon like him to get into the habit of hanging around an angel.

Asmodeus proceeded to get into the habit of hanging around an angel. Well, it wasn’t his fault that Samael kept appearing, and Asmodeus did try to warn him that it would get him into trouble. But you try telling such a sweet, darling creature to go away; it didn’t bear thinking about. Maybe things would be alright as long as nobody found out. It’s not as if his one-time-crush was going to turn into him falling deeply in love over the millennia or anything- oh, fuck. Excerpt from my Bad Proverbs master document, originating from April 2022! I'm very excited to finally do something with my Reverse Omens AU!

[vampiric-transsexual]

anyway the finale of wwdits has me emotionally all over the place, so i decided to do something light hearted for the homies. I was thinking about how Laszlo and the Baron give me major gender envy and it made think to ask:

Obvi that isn't nearly enough choices so please list in the tags. Also name your second and third in the tags.

[blueseer]

Best of 2023-Best Male

Laszlo Cravensworth-What we do in the Shadows

My pick for best male is Laszlo Cravensworth from WWDITS. This is the third year in a row that Laszlo has made it on my list. When I was watching WWDITS during season 5 I said, I don’t even need a specific category for him; he just deserves to be best male. So, he finally did. Because, if you told me that at the beginning of the series that this hot mess of a vampire would be one of my favorite characters I wouldn’t have believed you, but he is. He is without a doubt the vampire most in touch with his human side. I read an article once that referred to him as the human soul of the gang and I couldn’t have said it any better.

He has demonstrated more human kindness then the humans (Though technically Guillermo was a vampire for most of the season). We knew that Laszlo had it in him to be nice to the people he cares for. From the way he treats his wife, his best friend, Nandor (even when doesn’t deserve it), to basically becoming Colin Robinson’s father in season 4, but the way he was there for Guillermo was nothing but heartwarming. You can practically see the shift in his expression when Guillermo confesses what he’s done. This lowly familiar he can’t remember the name of. Despite committing one of the biggest transgressions in vampire culture, Laszlo decides to be there for him. He immediately goes into dad/scientist mode and begins to try to find a solution.

He keeps Guillermo’s secret and defended him when Nandor found out. And finally, what solidified my choice for making him my best male was how he took Derek to the necromancer after they killed him. He knew Guillermo felt guilty and it gave Derek a second chance at being undead. He is the heart of the series while also being the guy that sits for days just to decide how he want to organize his books. How could I pick anyone better?

[ragsy]

Ragsy you asked for this

I need you to fill out the entirety of the questions for Dillion, Dogmark and Agent Hill also if you have her number you can post that too. (Sorry dogmark ur still my fave it’s just. Big lady….)

Was your OC influenced or inspired by any particular fictional character(s) when you made them? Dillion: Dillion is drawn from a lot of different sources of inspiration, but most notably he's sorta like if you put Prince Sidon (botw) and Zapp Brannigan (futurama) in a blender and gave the resulting abomination Laszlo Cravensworth's (wwdits) voice Dogmark: He's been around for so long that I can no longer directly trace anything about him back to any specific lineage. HOWEVER. I did find out very recently that he looks uncannily like the character in the musical Rent who is also bisexual and named Mark. That was a total coincidence Sloane: a lot of her design choices were "what would be very attractive to me personally" but i did take a lot of inspiration from Jasper (steven universe) and grizzled male spy action movie heroes.

What genre (not counting the one they’re in) would your OC thrive in? Dillion: sports anime Dogmark: romcom Sloane: stoner comedy

What genre would your OC do badly in but it would be hilarious or interesting to watch? Dillion: stoner comedy Dogmark: sports anime Sloane: romcom

What media does your character enjoy? (For characters in settings that aren’t modern Earth, could be media from their home setting or what they’d like in a modern Earth AU) Dillion: he'd be WAY into competition shows. chopped, ninja warrior, american idol, great british bakeoff, literally anything like that. Dogmark: video games! he's always been a big nintendo fanboy, but he hasn't had the means to pick up anything new in years. (he likes zelda & metroid the most) Sloane: melodrama. she doesn't really watch it though, she just enjoys having it on as background noise. but if anyone switches the channel, there will be hell to pay.

What song(s) do you associate with your OC? Dillion:

Dogmark:

Sloane:

(not necessarily for lyrical content, just vibes)

If your OC had to cosplay as a fictional character, who would they choose? Dillion: hunky magikarp Dogmark: botw-era Link Sloane: dean winchester

Has your OC ever had a crush on a fictional (to them) character? Dillion: if he did, he absolutely didn't recognize it for what it was at the time Dogmark: oh, several. the very first was both Elizabeth and Will from the pirates of the caribbean at the same time though Sloane: probably, but she will never, ever, ever share this information. ever.

How would your OC do in the last book/movie/tv show/game/etc. you read/watched/played? (the last game i played was minecraft) Dillion: he'd do pretty okay after the first few nights, but he would never be able to figure out cooking and starve to death Dogmark: he camps in the wilderness for fun all the time, so just fine actually! just going to completely ignore the horrors that keep crawling up from that ravine though!! Sloane: she's resourceful, so also pretty good. she'd get frustrated that none of the villages have anything to DRINK around here, but she'd get over it.

If your OC was a superhero, what would they be like? (powers, title, general vibe, etc.) Dillion: Captain Riptide: An ocean-themed Captain America type, with a bit of aquaman (water breathing, talks to fish) thrown in there. Basically just regular Sir Dillion, but with a secret identity. Dogmark: he's kinda already got everything already except the cool name ("What do you mean? 'Dogman' isn't cool????"), although he'd be less inclined towards vigilante heroics and more toward going on dangerous missions because the alternative is blackmail Sloane: she'd probably be one of those "mundane humans but is really good with a gun named Crackshot or Bullseye or something like that" type heroes, although her cursed monster arm would be a source of conflict that would probably lead her more toward antiheroism.

What animal would your OC have as their His Dark Materials daemon? Dillion: horse? probably horse Dogmark: hmm! hard to say! probably some four-legged carnivore? heavily steeped in symbolism of loyalty and servitude? what could that be??? Sloane: rattlesnake

What Pokémon would be on your OC’s team and/or what would be their preferred type? Dillion: w... water type Dogmark: normal type!!! normal! he's so normal!!! Sloane: ground type? maybe?

If your OC was a Dungeons and Dragons character, what would their class be? And/or: If they were playing D&D, what kind of character might they play? (these aren’t necessarily the same thing) Dillion: well. he's already a Fighter, and i think if he were playing dnd, he would also play fighter. fighters all the way down Dogmark: he'd be a ranger or sorcerer, but i think he would really enjoy playing a wizard or warlock Sloane: she'd be a rogue, fighter, or ranger, and i think she would think dnd is stupid so she'd never play

How well would your OC do in a standard slasher movie? Dillion: last to die, but he'd be, like, super guilty about it Dogmark: puts up a good fight, but ultimately no match for the jumpscares Sloane: goes down fighting in a last ditch effort to save the innocent bystanders. OR, alternatively, dies immediately due to her hubris and cocky attitude

What stock character would your OC be stuck as in a sitcom? Dillion: bumbling uncle Dogmark: awkward nerd who Just Can't Get a Girl! Sloane: token butch

Who would your OC main in Super Smash Bros? Dillion: CAPTAIN FALCON!! Dogmark: (copied from a previous ask) idk anything about the current roster, but probably Fire Emblem Sword Boy Du Jour? In melee/brawl he would be a Marth main though. Never played at any sort of competitive level, but he was still pretty good at it. Currently has a hard time holding game controllers on account of his claws and paw beans, especially the teeny tiny buttons on the switch Sloane: incineroar. she's a total shark about it too-- plays dumb for the first four stock, then as soon as she's down to one she opens up a can of whoopass on her opponent

Who would your OC play in Mario Kart? Dillion: inkling boy. [sighs wistfully] reminds him of home Dogmark: shy guy on a little bike Sloane: funky kong!!!!!!!

If your OC was in Star Trek’s Starfleet, what would be their role/position? Or, if that doesn’t really fit your OC: why would they get kicked out of Starfleet? (please take my answers with a grain of salt; i have an extremely casual surface level of understanding of how starfleet works) Dillion: listen, he's already partially based on a character who is partially based on bill shatner as jim kirk, so. he's the captain of this starship Dogmark: some mechanical maintenance role where he doesn't have to talk to anyone, or a security role where he's monitering cameras all day. don't put him in space adventure, he'll get sad Sloane: oh, head security officer. she'll wrestle with an alien lizard any chance she gets.

What role would your OC play in a heist story? Dillion: the muscle. he's not stealthy, he's not good at talking himself out of problems, but he IS good at bonking people in the head and/or breaking down doors. Dogmark: (copied from a previous ask) Getaway driver. He's too nervous to actually be part of the operation, but he's got a lead foot and he's a pretty solid driver. Plus, if they still end up getting caught, he can definitely outrun the cops on foot in dog form. Sloane: probably also the muscle, but in a scenario where she knows someone else is willing to put themselves in that level of danger, she'd be the overseer. planning moves, calling shots, keeping an eye on her team and guiding them to safety (and big money)

What kind of classic horror monster (vampire, werewolf, alien, etc.) would your OC be? Dillion: gillman. duh Dogmark: werewolf. duh Sloane: also werewolf, but hotter. duh

What type of Avatar The Last Airbender-type bender (or non-bender) would your OC be? Any bending specialties? Dillion: water!!!!! he's a fish man, what do you want from me!!!!!! Dogmark: (copied from a previous ask) Supposed non-bender for most of his life, but in reality just never had the opportunity to discover and hone his bending abilities. By the time he learned he was actually a bender the whole time, he'd aged out of most of the available training programs. Unsure what element though! Water maybe? (after the fact realization: probably fire actually) Sloane: non-bender, but she can definitely hold her own against a bender in a fight. probably practices chakra blocking like ty lee

Your OC gets isekai’d to a bog-standard fantasy world. What does your OC do and how badly does it go for that world? Dillion: "oh thank heavens, this is much more familiar to where i'm actually from than the other, much more creative fantasy world that i got isekai'd to right before this" Dogmark: he'd spend a week in terrified denial, then one day a gnome offers him a quarter-pint of thimbleberry ale and he throws his hands up in resignation, accepts the drink, and just learns to live with all the rest of it. his dogman curse ends up being a boon for him, it would definitely help him blend in at first Sloane: she'd spend a lot of time complaining about not having TV or cigarettes anymore (puppet shows and pipe smoke just isn't the same for her), but she'd be relieved that all of her worldly responsibilities and troubles just. vanished. (except for the cursed monster arm, but she'd probably find a cleric who could just. heal her for a day's work and everything's just peachy after that)

In the Muppet version of your story, is this particular OC a Muppet or the one human? Dillion: he's a muppet, but he's one of the full-body sized ones Dogmark: human in human form, but a muppet in dog form. when he transforms, he ducks behind a conveniently placed table and the other version jumps up in the previous version's place. Sloane: she's the human, and she never once acknowledges that her costars are made of felt and stuffing

What would be your OC’s My Little Pony cutie mark? Dillion: a really fancy medieval coat of arms with a nautilus and two crossed swords. way more detailed than any toy manufacturer could ever produce Dogmark: paw print. :) puppy Sloane: a revolver chamber, with one bullet missing.

Your OC is stuck in a musical episode. What song(s) do they sing? (And how thrilled or annoyed are they about being stuck in a musical?) Dillion: he gets the confused and excited "what the hell is happening, why are we singing" number, as well as being in the chorus for every subsequent number. he's a little pitchy, but he's so into it, so his spirit alone sells it. Dogmark: he gets the emotional "all is lost" number that happens on the transition between the second and third acts. it's his one and only musical number-- he spends the whole runtime up to that number denying that he's in a musical, but when his time comes, he owns it. Sloane: she manages to figure out how to game the system by simply not speaking the whole episode-- she communicates entirely by typing things on her phone and having TTS read them out for her. everyone else wishes she would just lighten up a little

In a murder mystery, what role would your OC play? (e.g. detective, sidekick, wacky suspect, rival investigator who gets in thew way, red herring, true culprit) Dillion: rival investigator who thinks he's extremely talented at solving mysteries, when in fact he's just jumping to conclusions and assuming he's correct Dogmark: suspect who is innocent but was definitely in the wrong place at the wrong time and cannot articulate why without incriminating himself for something entirely unrelated Sloane: secret detective-- played along as just some innocent observer, but was actually clocking everything the whole time.

What is your OC’s Warrior Cats name? Dillion: splashstream Dogmark: bramblefur Sloane: tigerblaze

Gun to their head, what is your OC’s fursona? Dillion: coelacanth?? Dogmark: dog obviously, but like. that very specific kind of mutt you see with yellow single-coat fur, pointed ears, smooth tail, and no markings except for the odd white point here or there Sloane: GRAND! OLD! BOAR!!!!!

if you made it this far hi thanks i love you for loving my characters this much

[sheantipaxos]

So in the final episode they reveal a last name to Nadja HOWEVER in earlier seasons Laszlo tells Nadja how she has no surname so in my headcanon Nadja has no middle name or last name but does take the last name Cravensworth from time to time.

[suckndfuck]

suckndfuck. indie private & selective laszlo cravensworth from wwdits, written by grunk. mature content present; frequent sexual content and casual mentions of gore in dark comedic styling. 21+ only. NON RP BLOGS DNI.

links. carrd. memes. opens. clicks for palestine. credit.

blogroll. @bloodebayou, @rattlesnakeshine

affiliates. @sheantipaxos.

my name is grunk, pronouns are he/him, and i'm 31 years old.

NO MINORS. i'll block anyone under 21 who follows. it's just for my own comfort. i'll also block anyone with harry potter muses and/or verses.

i will not follow: minors, those without any kind of rules or info readily available, bigots of any kind (including but not limited to TERFs, anyone guilty of racism, zionism, antisemitism, ableism, ageism, and homophobia), those with inaccessible blogs, and people with generally nasty vibes and attitudes. i'm all about peace and love.

i'm selective and private, meaning i'll only interact with people i'm in a mutual following with, and i won't follow everyone. it might take me a while to follow back.

i don't jive with reply length requirements. i can write a couple of sentences or several long paragraphs, it just depends on what's needed for the reply. i don't expect length to be matched, but i do expect effort to be matched.

i can be slow. if patience with replies isn't your strong suit, we may not be suited to write together. i'm pretty chill about most things, so you can take all the time in the world to get back to me, ic or ooc.

i don't do exclusives, but affiliates are great. i'll affiliate with multiples of the same muse.

please don't write me passive starters. i will not respond to them. if you're not sure what to write, it's all good. you can come talk to me to figure it out, or just don't do it at all. i won't be bothered either way.

feel free to send me all the memes you want. i may not respond to them because i tend to just not do them for a long time or at all if i can't think of anything, but don't take that as a sign that i don't like you or don't want to write with you.

when it comes to shipping, laszlo is always going to be the most in love with nadja. they do have an open relationship, but his wife will ALWAYS be the most important to him. i'm fine doing shippy memes, but i will take a little while getting comfortable doing threads. it takes me a while to get comfortable with writing smut with someone, but i'm open to it. just about anyone is welcome to send kissing and flirtatious memes, i just ask that your muse be physically 30 or older as a personal preference.

laszlo is a big flirt, and isn't always subtle about it, and by that i mean he can be extremely forward and may make explicitly sexual remarks. i'm not trying to force anything; your muse is free to reject him or react in whatever way suits them best. conversely, do NOT use this to try and force me to write smut with you. he can also be a real asshole and that does not reflect my views of you nor your muse.

if you see something on my about page or a headcanon that contradicts information on the wiki or within the series, know that the wiki is very inaccurate and the show often has contradictory details.

there will be mature content consistent to what's shown in the series. most potentially triggering content will be tagged, but i won't tag mentions or descriptions of violence, death, or gore, given how heavily present they are in the series. i'll tag smut if it ever appears, but i won't tag mentions of or references to sex, nor dialogue of a sexual nature. i will tag all images. warnings will be tagged as "usfw--" or "trigger--".

laszlo is a comedic character, so most of my writing will also be comedic. i'm open to doing more serious threads and plots, but they will be highly selective and reserved for muns i've already interacted with extensively, and muses who have a significant and established relationship with laszlo.

graphics by kaisercomms! please consider commissioning them!

[featuringthecreatures]

Nadja in a this is my wife don’t touch him shirt

[h3rmitsunited]

Okay, so apparently Laszlo does know that humans need more than raw room temperature chicken to stay alive?? 🤣

[bastardbeewoman]

top fucking 10 best episodes