#the vampiric figure who wants most of all what he can't have; who will chase after the image of beauty and life but can offer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fitzrove · 2 years ago

Text

Tanz der Vampire & The Hero's Journey

TdV is often brought up as an example of a musical where (spoilers) the bad guys win. But I don't really agree with that take. Certainly, the assumed objective of our fearless vampire killers is not fulfilled by the end (the vampires are very much not killed), but that doesn't mean the hero of the story doesn't triumph. Let me go into excessive detail...

The Hero and his Goal

Alfred is obviously the POV character and the hero of the story. He's the first character we meet, and throughout the story, he's the character whose thoughts we get the most insight on. But unlike in a lot of vampire hunter stories, his goal isn't really to kill vampires, even though he does sing a bit about slaying monsters in Perfekter Tag. He's afraid of them and the danger they represent, but he doesn't have any particular deepseated conviction against them or trauma related to them (á la Uwe Kröger's Van Helsing in the Dracula musical for example). The vampire-hunting goal is really pushed onto the narrative by the professor, who occupies the role of the "mentor" in the Hero's Journey, and Sarah, who seeks the vampires out on purpose and (in Alfred's opinion) puts her life at risk. If the vampires didn't threaten Sarah (and if the professor, Alfred's mentor and most importantly his employer, wasn't obsessed with them), I'd argue that Alfred would have no quarrel with them. He's forced to actively oppose them by circumstance, and slaying them isn't an intrinsic goal he has.

So what is Alfred's goal? Well, according to Michael Kunze, his driving motivation is his love for Sarah. But I'd argue it's about more than Sarah herself (which doesn't diminish their relationship in my opinion) - it's about first love and letting all those sweet gooey emotions take hold of you for the first time, about being fearless and vulnerable. Alfred loves Sarah and wants to be free to love her regardless of societal expectations. And hell, there's a bunch of societal expectations and restrictions - Alfred sees what Chagal does to his daughter for something as innocent as taking a bath, how could he expect him to react positively if he told him he wanted to, for instance, propose to Sarah? And the professor thinks feelings are useless bullshit (and since Alfred seems to be pretty much financially dependent on him, he's really stuck between a rock and a hard place and pursuing a relationship with Sarah must seem impossible to him). He probably can't see any way for them to be together other than by running away (even though that must also seem like a pipe dream, because of the financial and practical impossibilities). So Alfred wishes, above all else, to liberate himself from everything that binds and obligates him, so that he can be free to feel and love and be together with the person he cares about openly at last.

The Hero's Journey 1 - Departure

Using the Wikipedia summary of The Hero's Journey, we can trace the similarities of TdV's plot with that narrative scheme. In the Departure section, the main character

lives in the ordinary world and receives a call to go on an adventure. The hero is reluctant to follow the call but is helped by a mentor figure.

So the ordinary world setup (which outlines Alfred's situation and his central problem of not being able to love and feel freely) would be the first few songs (He Ho He to Nie Geseh'n). In Nie Geseh'n, he (and Sarah) quite literally hear the call for the first time - they both hear the vampires sing Sei bereit during their duet. Alfred tries to put it out of his mind (which we see quite clearly in Wahrheit, where everyone except Sarah keeps themselves busy and wilfully ignores the vampire issue, while the professor - the mentor - tries to prod for answers so they can chase the call in the hopes of eliminating its source). After Sarah vanishes, he's pushed by the professor's fervor and determination to kill the vampires (and his own devotion to Sarah) to follow Chagal to the castle.

The Hero's Journey 2 - Initiation

The initiation section begins with the hero then traversing the threshold to an unknown or "special world"...

Literally Vor dem Schloss - the door to the castle is a very literal threshold between the normal world and the vampire world. But it's also an emotional threshold - the lyrics of the song have Krolock dangle the promise of all Alfred wants (love, freedom, passion) in front of him and telling him that by entering this world he will be able to experience all of it. Alfred completely forgets about vampire hunting for this encounter - he's just transfixed by Krolock and the dark freedom and "forbidden knowledge" he promises.

... where he faces tasks or trials, either alone or with the assistance of helpers.

Alfred's trials amount to:

Facing temptation in Carpe Noctem (and resisting it in Alles ist Hell right after, which continues the motif of burying your head in the sand and not dealing with emotions or problems that was introduced in Wahrheit)

Being pushed by the professor to kill Krolock in Der Grüft, but refusing to by saying that he can't (which shows how he's faltering - his fear does play a part in this, but it's more than anything a sign of his heart not being committed to the vampire-hunting mission. The professor tries to push him by telling him to think of Sarah, but to no avail)

Failing to convince Sarah to escape in their bathroom conversation & facing the fact that he'll have to brave his fears to protect her (wait out the ball because she explicitly says she won't leave before then) and coming to terms with it ("I will go into nothingness because I love you") (Für Sarah)

Wenn Liebe in dir Ist (facing the threat of violence, almost escaping by way of cleverness with his book trick, being rescued by the professor)

The trials serve to strengthen Alfred's love for Sarah and his conviction to do whatever he can to stay by her side even if it means forgetting his fears and "betraying himself" (actual lyrics). They don't serve to grow his hatred of vampires, even though he does become braver both in the face of danger and about openly declaring how he feels.

The Ball

The hero eventually reaches "the innermost cave" or the central crisis of his adventure, where he must undergo "the ordeal" where he overcomes the main obstacle or enemy, undergoing "apotheosis" and gaining his reward (a treasure or "elixir").

This is where the show is at its most subversive. Alfred and the professor do face Krolock head-on, but not before he manages to bite Sarah. They don't kill him, but they do seem to triumph over him by escaping. And about the apostheosis, well...

The Hero's Journey 3 - The Return

In the return section, the hero must return to the ordinary world with his reward. He may be pursued by the guardians of the special world, or he may be reluctant to return and may be rescued or forced to return by intervention from the outside.

The apostheosis really only happens after/during the return, which is why it's such a twist to the audience. We expect the ball to he the grand finale, but really, the apostheosis only happens while our heroes are being "pursued by the guardians of the special world" (Koukol). And said apostheosis is obviously Sarah biting Alfred and fulfilling their shared goal - to become free to love and live outside all boundaries and expectations. If you're a vampire, you won't really have to worry about food or shelter in the same way humans have to ever again - and if anyone tries to give you trouble or to restrict you, you can just maul them (which Alfred tries to do to the professor immediately upon being turned). It's really the only way for Sarah and Alfred to be together, and I think after all that they went through during the show, they both know that - Alfred perhaps only subconsciously until the very last minute. And they revel in it. The show has a happy ending even though zero vampires were slain - the poor professor Abronsius, who represents rationality and conventional moral propriety, got the short end of the stick because his ideals go against the show's thesis statement. But Sarah and Alfred got exactly what they wanted from the beginning.

The hero again traverses the threshold between the worlds, returning to the ordinary world with the treasure or elixir he gained, which he may now use for the benefit of his fellow man. The hero himself is transformed by the adventure and gains wisdom or spiritual power over both worlds.

And because Sarah and Alfred have now learned this truth, they can... uh... "use the elixir for the benefit of their fellow man", ie. bite people to liberate them like Krolock did to Sarah and Sarah did to Alfred. And the finale of the show fits this idea perfectly - "the vampires invite you to dance", you're next, being dead & selfish & cursed isn't such a bad thing because it's fun and sexy as hell. Vampirism is a "get out of jail free card" for individualism and greed, which may harm others (like Chagal illustrates in his solo - "why shouldn't I suck on blood when other people have sucked things out of me") but benefits the person doing it. I think this is what Kunze meant with his unhinged "tdv is about German reunification" take - it's about free market capitalism, in a way XD But I digress.

So yeah, TdV is a pretty clear hero's journey story where Alfred (in a way) eventually gets just what he wants, even though he resists temptation for most of the show. I love it and it's awesome >:D

#tanz der vampire #musicals #theatre #analysis #alfred #beloved <3

35 notes · View notes

undeadorion-archive · 11 months ago

Text

I cannot believe Anne Rice started her slutty gay vampire series with the amazingly tragic and handsome figure of Louis then decided to make the rest of the series primarily about his narcissistic, petty, toxic, and abusive boyfriend instead. The guy who was so gross and controlling it took murder to get away from him (he got better, though).

The second book is written by Lestat. In direct response to Louis interview being published. It sets the tone of the most unreliable narrator known to mankind.

I'm only halfway through and I cannot take a single thing that happens at face value. So unless something later the the series not from Lestat's perspective confirms it, I'm going to assume most things are either exaggerated or utterly fabricated in the context of this fictional world.

The whole thing reads like the most over the top YA nonsense. So far there's been no strong through line of conflict or overarching plot other than flat out not believing any of it.

First there were wolves that Lestat was nearly killed by but he killed them and survived. Then he was traumatized for a bit. But then he got a boyfriend and the only conflict what that his father and brothers were awful and his mom might die. But then that was over when he ran off to live in Paris. So then the conflict was trying to survive, but that was over in just a few pages cause he got a job at a theater. Then a vampire shows up and torments him and turns him against his will. And you'd think he'd take at least some adjustment time but then it's like "oh, this is fine, actually."

But then the old vampire kills himself without teaching him anything other than "don't go in the sunlight" and that could have been some beautiful tension of fumbling through the world and trying to survive after having his life turned upside down. But no, he figures it out pretty fast and the old man vampire left him a literal mountain of treasure. So he was fine.

Then he made a faint play at "oh, I'll just feed off of bad people and criminals." But then something happened and he fed on an innocent person and had no real qualms about it and just fed on anyone.

Then his mom showed up in Paris and begged to see him because she'd die at any moment. Then he had to reveal himself to her and tell her what he was. And she was chill with it, and he turned her and she was totally cool with that too. There's a really weak conflict going on after that where he's "cut off" from her, and can't communicate with her mentally. But that's barely an issue.

Since being turned the closest thing to internal conflict he really seemed to have was some self imposed thing where he couldn't talk to his boyfriend anymore. He tried to frame it as some noble and difficult thing while it was visibly hurting the boyfriend.

Then there was the vampire cult who started chasing and harassing him. But that lasts like 2 chapters because suddenly they've kidnapped Nicki, Lestat's boyfriend. Which Lestat didn't even know was missing until they taunted him about it.

Then surprise! The cult leader is Armand, Louis big gay crush. And the cult is really weird about self imposed torment and living in the dark and doing god's bidding and some other weird nonsense. And they have a half dead Nicki in a cage on top of a huge pyre that they're threatening to light, but they only have 3 torches and Lestat easily takes them all and puts them all out. And no one lights another one for some reason?

But then with one magical speech Lestat brings the cult to an end. Hundreds of years of weird rituals and beliefs where they thought that it was a sin to live among humans. And just by saying "But I do it just fine" then all go "Yeah, let's go live like humans!" and the cult breaks up. And then Armand goes feral and just burns all but 5 members of the cult, but Lestat is told this after the fact. Because the last remaining members now totally trust him and want him to lead him. When literally just days before they were trying to murder him and now they're all "omg you're so powerful and amazing and wonderful and we love you."

Oh and after rescuing Nicki, Lestat turns him. And there's a conflict for about 2 days where Nicki won't speak and is just sort of a zombie. Then Nicki goes to the theater where they'd both worked, which shut down because Lestat gave them tons of money to move to London. And there's a whole thing where Nicki finally isn't a zombie anymore because he got his violin back. And he decides to lead the ex cult vampires and they create, get this, the vampire theater. The very one that took Louis in the first book.

And where I've left off has Armand flip flopping between being an absolute monster and being absolutely pathetic. And not at all like the one that Louis met. Like literally begging Lestat to love him, to trying to murder him by feeding on him, to nuzzling him by the fire in Lestat's secret tower.

It just reads so much like a jealous lover who got humiliatingly dumped and is trying to show that he's better than his ex. "Oh, that place he went and got tortured? Yeah, I created that! That guy he had a huge crush on? He begged me to fuck him. And I didn't even like him! And look how horrible he was anyway. And you think I'm the bad guy?"

0 notes

casspurrjoybell-31 · 1 year ago

Text

The Consort - Chapter 17 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

Somehow I find sleep.

It's the worst kind, though.

For hours I alternate between succumbing to a fuzzy slumber only to be startled awake whenever I hear something from outside.

I can't manage to get comfortable and a permanent layer of goosebumps has taken over the pale skin of my forearms.

When an owl hoots in a nearby tree, I decide it's futile.

I draw myself into a sitting position and rub the sleep out of my eyes.

Sunlight begins to make its way through the cracks in the tree-house.

Dust rises and collects around the small patches of light, mesmerized by its safety and warmth.

My stomach rattles from hunger.

Brayden glances at me from the other side of the tree-house.

His eyes aren't nearly as bright as they were last night.

Perhaps he caved in and drank one of the blood bags earmarked for Kelly.

He gracefully gets to his feet and walks over to me.

"You don't look rested," he observes aloud.

"I don't feel rested."

"I told you to sleep."

I sigh and run a hand through my messy hair.

It's only been a day and I can feel how oily and unruly it is.

A faint smell of onion emits from my armpits, the result of a night of nerves wreaking havoc on my sweat glands.

I quickly clamp my arms down to my sides. How embarrassing.

No wonder Brayden chose to sit at the other end of the treehouse.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"If you had to smell that all night."

Brayden squints in confusion.

"Do you forget this is the second night I have been around your scent, human?"

"No, not my blood scent," I start to correct him but then stop myself.

"Never mind."

Brayden clears his throat and tucks his hands behind his back.

How is it possible for the man to look so immaculate after a day of traveling and a night of hiding?

It's not fair.

His haunting features catch the light as he paces in front of me.

His cheekbones are high and sharp, accentuating the slope of his nose leading down to his supple lips.

"The humans are traveling east," Brayden says.

"Kelly followed a short distance behind them and informed me this morning that they are sticking to the path near the river."

He scoffs at this plan, almost silently saying that if he were human, he'd do it much differently.

I think about Leo and the rest of them.

Even though they probably despise me right now, I can't help but feel guilty.

They're in an unsafe area because of me.

They're probably tired, hungry and sore because of me.

"What's our plan?" I ask, trying to chase away the thoughts.

"To keep you alive and away from other vampires."

I snort, thinking he's making a joke.

But of course he's not.

I swallow down my laughter and nod.

"We'll be traveling to the Village today," he continues.

My pulse skyrockets at the possibility of traveling into the heart of vampire land.

Why would Brayden think of something like that?

Even though this treehouse is pretty awful, I'd rather stay here than go there.

"Most, if not all, of the vampires have evacuated in preparation of the war," Brayden explains.

"And the ones who have stayed behind won't bother us anyway."

I swallow down the lump in my throat.

"You're going to just break into a random house and keep me there?"

"Hardly. While I do have my own home in the Village, I will be taking you to Crystal's house instead."

The name sounds familiar and I try to pilfer through my memories to figure out where I've heard it before.

Then I remember that it's a name Kelly has used before.

It was his vampire.

Brayden wants me to stay at the very place I left Kelly behind?

The very place Kelly lost his mortality to become a vampire?

I shake my head.

"I can't... I don't think I can do that."

"It's safe," Brayden assures me, completely unaware of the other factors coming into play.

"No one will bother us there. Even if they do, I'd be able to buy us enough time to get out safely."

"What about Kelly?"

There's nothing safe about being around Kelly or any vampire for that matter, especially one who is barely in control of his blood cravings.

I can't stop loving Kelly, though.

He's been there for me for as long as I can remember.

Even if he doesn't remember all of it, I do.

Brayden cocks his head to the side and hesitates for a moment before saying...

"He's... out."

He walks away from me and opens the door to the tree-house.

A lone spider scuttles down the wooden planks.

It travels right over Brayden's hand, crawling over his every knuckle before skittering into the shadows.

He doesn't flinch.

"Where's out?" I press.

"He will be back eventually," Brayden answers.

"That is all you need to know. Let's go, human."

He reaches a hand out to me, his pale fingers like newly fallen snow.

My movements are so awkward compared to his.

I stand and dust off my jeans.

I get another waft of my armpits and cringe.

Let's hope my blood is smelling extra delicious today.

Because if I was him, I'd consider pulling me behind with a ten foot rope just to get away from the smell.

1 note · View note

linkspooky · 2 years ago

Text

Sorry if I'm being annoying by adding onto this, but I have lots of thoughts about the episode helpless.

In particular Buffy is a work of the horror genre. Helpless is obviously one of the more horror themed episodes, it's literally in the title, Buffy is usually strong enough to fight any monster in her way in this one she's not. Horror works by tapping into, or provoking a normal, everyday fear that a lot of people have, by making the audience feel uncomfortable by popping their safety bubbles.

For instance, the movie Halloween is not scary just because Michael Meyers a nigh unkillable monster chases Jamie Lee Curtis around the suburbs. It's also scary because suburban lifestyle is sold to americans as crime-free neighborhoods, a place where most people can leave their door unlocked, and the movie itself violates that idea of suburbs as a safe-haven by showing violence can happen anywhere.

Good horror preys upon this insecurity or suspicion we all harbor that things are not as safe, or as trustworthy as we believe them to be. So helpless is not just about the fear Buffy feels from no longer being able to punch and kick vampires.

It's almost poetic that "Gingerbread" and "Helpless" come one right after another. "Gingerbread" is not only a parody of the moral panic that arose from stuff like Dungeons and Dragons, but also Buffy's fear that Joyce herself rejects the "slayer" part of her life. Which has already been shown to happen at the end of "Becoming Pt. 2" where Joyce cannot deal with the fact Buffy is a slayer and in a moment of anger tells her not to come back, and Buffy genuinely believes Joyce does not want her to come home. So you have an entire episode on how Joyce is an outsider who doesn't understand the slayer part of Buffy's life, and maybe even wishes she didn't have a daughter who was a slayer.

Which is immediately followed up by an episode where for the first time Buffy asks Giles to step into the role of father by the simple gesture of taking her to the ice capades, rather than just watcher of the slayer part of her life.

If parents are expected to shelter and protect their children, then Joyce actively harming Buffy in an episode is a violation of that safety. Just like in the episode Ted the serial killer robot isn't really as scary as the idea that Joyce might let a man into her home that verbally or even physically abuses Buffy is far scarier.

Even if you don't expect Giles to act like a parent, as a teacher he should still act responsible. Children who attend school are separated from their parents most of the day, and the school officials and adult teachers are trusted not to endanger or harm these children. So you have Joyce, who as OP said just cannot really be there for Buffy or protect her from the Slayer part of her life. Joyce has to trust Giles will do his best to act responsibily and as an adult in the Slayer portion of Buffy's life.

What if that person you trusted with your child's safety and well being, turned out to be someone different than who you thought they were? The biggest line in the episode is this.

Giles: You can't walk home alone, Buffy. It isn't safe. Buffy: I don't know you.

There are pretty obvious real world parallels to this, there are teachers at schools who will actively manipulate children by posing as adult figures you can trust. This one person Buffy never expected to harm her admits to drugging her over the course of the episode without her consent, and then pretending not to know what was going on when she was so deeply disturbed by the loss of her powers.

Also, the vampire in this episode isn't just a regular vampire it's a serial killer who exclusively preys on women, the subtext ain't exactly subtle.

It's actually a deeply disturbing fear that an adult you thought you could trust, could turn around and treat you this way. Now that's effective horror, and it nails down the point that we see in later seasons, especially season six that Giles is not someone Buffy can completely rely on. The security and safety in that relationship is gone.

It’s not until Season 3’s Helpless that the Buffy writers really started to lean into the idea that Giles is a father figure to Buffy. After Season 3, it comes up a lot, sure. It becomes a key part of his character. But it’s something of a retcon. It’s not exactly the role Giles plays early in the show.

(Yes, it’s possible to cast Giles as the parental figure of the Scoobies much earlier than that, and fandom often does. But I’ve never been entirely comfortable with that reading.

If nothing else, the first three seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer take place in a high school. It feels weirdly reductive to assume the only possible way an adult in this setting can interact positively with children is by acting as a parent. And early series Giles is not a parent. He’s a mentor. He’s a teacher.)

Partly that’s because, until Season 3, Buffy already has a father. Hank Summers doesn’t appear much, but when he does (in Season 1’s Nightmares and the Season 2 opener When She Was Bad) he seems cast in much the same mold as Buffy’s mom Joyce. He seems to be nothing more than a well-meaning parent who just doesn’t understand his daughter. Yes, we see in Nightmares that Buffy is worried that he might secretly resent her and not want to be around her – fears that, retroactively, will turn out to be true – but in that first episode those fears tell us much more about Buffy Summers than they do her father.

But Helpless sets up the comparison with Giles pretty directly, by firmly establishing Hank as a bad parent. Hank is meant to come and visit his daughter on her birthday, only to cancel his plans at the last minute. He does so because, as Joyce says, “his quarterly projections are unraveling and he can’t afford to take off right now”. He chooses his job over his daughter. Meanwhile Giles is meant to do his duty as a Watcher and send Buffy off powerless to fight a vampire as part of the Cruciamentum, even though this is likely to lead to her death. He doesn’t go along with it. He choose his daughter over his job.

And yet.

Well, I lied. That isn’t actually what happens in Helpless. Not exactly.

Giles does not choose his surrogate daughter over his job. Not consciously, anyway. He doesn’t refuse to drug her. To drug her repeatedly, even when he sees the effect it’s having on her. He doesn’t tell her about the Cruciamentum when she starts losing her powers. Even when he sees just how afraid she is. He doesn’t do anything but privately moan to Quentin Travers until after the vampire Buffy’s meant to fight escapes.

Then, yes, he tells Buffy about what’s happening. Then he confesses to what he’s done. But only because, as he tells Travers, “your perfectly controlled test seems to have spun rather impressively out of control”. The implication, surely, is that if the vampire hadn’t escaped, if the test had proceeded as the Council had planned, then Giles would have kept his silence, however reluctantly.

And even then, even while telling Travers that he doesn’t “give a rat’s ass about the Council’s orders”, a part of Giles seems to think he can do this and not risk his status as a Watcher. Rewatch the scene where Travers fires him. Giles is surprised. “On what grounds?” he asks, when Travers tells him he failed the test. He doesn’t think he’s done anything a Watcher shouldn’t do. He didn’t know that telling Buffy would cost him his job. He never does make that choice.

And that’s part of why I always get slightly irritated by fandom readings that uncritically cast Giles as Buffy’s Dad. About people who even sometimes act as though he’s a better parental figure than Joyce Summers. Because that’s just not supported by the text.

Yes, Giles clearly cares deeply about Buffy, and has done since the first season (witness his own fears in Nightmares, or his attempt to take Buffy’s place in facing the Master in Prophecy Girl).

He’s prepared to die for her, he’s prepared to kill for her. After being fired by the Council, when he's no longer her Watcher, Buffy's still clearly very important to him. Possibly the most important person in his life.

But he’s not a perfect father figure and he repeatedly treats Buffy really badly, even before copying Hank’s “shiftless absentee father” routine in Season Six. He lies to her, he hides things from her, he doesn’t trust her instincts. Even when she asks, he’s not prepared to take her to the Ice Capades. He repeatedly tries to distance himself from her. He’s not prepared to actually be her father. Even in Season Six's Life Serial, when Buffy offers him the role of substitute parent, he asks instead if there’s another part he can play: “is there some sort of, um, rakish uncle?”.

Yes, of course, Rupert Giles is a much more developed character than Joyce Summers – possibly the most developed character in the first three seasons of the show after Buffy herself. And yes, the audience are clearly meant to sympathize with him more than they are with Joyce. But I think it would be a mistake to think that this means the character of Buffy herself also feels this way. Giles is part of the story of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in a way Joyce isn’t, but equally Joyce is a fundamental part of her daughter’s life in a way that Giles never is. In a way he repeatedly turns down the chance to be.

(Just look at how often Buffy worries about her mother getting hurt or about having to do something that makes her mother disappointed in her. Think about how much Buffy's desire to be "normal" is tied up with Buffy wanting to be a daughter her mother would be proud of. Look at how much she misses her after she dies; how afraid she is that she never knew how much she meant to her. This is a constant part of Buffy’s characterisation, from the first season until the last.)

Giles is not the uncomplicated Good Dad that some of the fandom wants him to be. He never has been. He can’t possibly be that person, when his role in the narrative is to prepare Buffy for her destiny of dying young, alone in the dark, fighting monsters. And that’s a smart writing choice! It’s what makes Giles a good, compelling character.

The Giles that appears in the show is much more interesting to think about than the sanctified fandom reading which ignores or downplays his flaws. And I just think people should talk about that version of the character more.

#btvs meta #I didn't get to talk about this in the post proper but your last paragraph is so good #No matter what every single slayer dies young #As spike says in Fool for Love people are just going to keep coming and one day someone is going to get her #All the way back in the first season Giles greatest fear is burying buffy #It's not just fear of responsibility #That makes Giles avoid the role of parent #It's fear of the fact that he will one day bury her and mourn her #That's what watchers do they watch as their slayers die #It's brought up constantly with Giles #Burying her as a watcher would be hard enough but loving her as a father and then having to bury her afterwards #Giles is so afraid of that pain he distances himself before he has the chance to lose her #He separates from her #Precisely because he does not want to lose her #Which is very silly #but what else can you expect out of men

301 notes · View notes

cookinguptales · 2 years ago

Note

It's been bugging me for a while and I love your meta and all your thoughts, so I wanted to get your opinion on this.

Why do you think Nandor is so repressed? Or so in denial about Guillermo? I understand Guillermo and his motivations (well not so much this season but I can still make sense of them) but why is Nandor this way? I want to study him like a bug and go inside his brain

I, too, feel the feminine urge to put Nandor in a jar and shake him. I've had a couple days to think about this now, so here are my thoughts. There... are a lot of them, fair warning.

At first, I thought this was a loss response. He lost all 37 of his wives and their children in one fell swoop, and that seems to be something that has affected him strongly. And, y'know, I still think that's part of it. I think that after losing everything he had, the idea of trying again and making new relationships scares him. Having someone to love is having someone to lose, and Nandor is so afraid of loss.

But then, y'know, I thought about the actual relationships he had with his wives, and I think a lot of what affects him now affected him then, too. It's a little hard to tell because most of the information we have from him is several centuries removed from the actual events, but it does seem like he probably never loved any of them with his whole soul. He said he didn't love all of them, and that's by his own admission. He didn't fight to keep any of them when they all left, and none tried to stay with him despite his vampirism. And he was pretty clearly leaving them alone for long periods while he went on his campaigns.

I think it's kind of telling that of all the creatures for his ghost to remember and miss, it wasn't any of his wives, it wasn't any of his men. It was... a horse. So I think we can probably say that he had a hard time creating serious human relationships even when he was alive.

I think... I've talked about this before and I'll probably talk about it again, but I do think that Nandor's got an almost pathological sense of dissatisfaction. He's never actually satisfied with anything in his life and he's always chasing after the next big thing. But I think that's because he's afraid of the intimacy that comes from working at a relationship. It's easier to chase the idea of a relationship than build one with the people who are already close to you.

If you think about it, all of Nandor's serious love interests have never really demanded vulnerability from him. Even Gail, his longest-term relationship to date, was a fairly surface-level love story. She didn't expect much from him; he was just a guy for her to have some fun with every few years. The things they knew about each other were also very surface level. Like in the grand scheme of things, who cares if she likes yogurt and Bob Seger if you can't figure out her actual basic character motivations? It's important to remember little details about your SO, but Nandor was missing the forest for the trees.

So when he was alive and now that he's dead, we still have the same Nandor. A man who was constantly conquering new lands instead of cultivating the country he already had. (And immediately letting it fall to shit without even noticing once he was turned.) A man who had 37 wives, but not one who would stay with him once things got hairy. A man who was very happy to pursue new love interests, but very hesitant about actually giving them any real part of himself.

Nandor is a man who is all about acquisition, but he doesn't know what to do with things once he's got them. He loves the thrill of the chase, but the aching and terrifying vulnerability that comes after that is anathema to him. He's simply not willing to put in the work. He likes the fun part, the conquering, the fighting, the hunt. But actually opening up and cultivating a real relationship? Letting them see the awkward, weak parts of him? Trusting them to love him anyway?

He hates that.

I'm thinking back to season 1, y'know? When Guillermo got hurt? He told him that he was his friend, but then immediately felt too vulnerable and walked it back. That's Nandor. Letting people see the soft, unexplored emotions inside of him is too much for him. It makes him feel fundamentally unsafe the way a battlefield never has. Even he doesn't like examining those emotions too closely.

(And let's be real... a horse isn't going to ask you about your feelings.)

So then we have Guillermo. Guillermo, whom he cannot hypnotize into forgetting his awkward, embarrassing moments. Guillermo, who has slowly learned him over the years, both inside and out. Guillermo, who has seen him at his worst and still loves him. Guillermo, who knows him.

Nandor has a kind of intimacy with Guillermo that I'm not sure he's ever had with any other living soul, and I think that scares him. I think it thrills him, yes! I think that's sort of what was actually happening in that familiar fights episode. He senses this strange bond with Guillermo and wants to strengthen it and test it and wallow around in it. He can tell on a fundamental level that there is something important and good and fun there.

But he also refuses to examine it. He refuses to name it. He refuses to let Guillermo that last little step into his heart. To put it into the show's metaphorical terms, Guillermo has managed to break into Nandor's secret basement treasure room despite his best efforts, but Nandor still batted Guillermo's hands away when he tried to examine the treasure.

He still can't even force himself to admit that he likes those rainy Sunday movie nights with Guillermo or that Guillermo is his best friend. (Though Guillermo now seems to understand the things that Nandor cannot say, in these situations.) I think admitting to himself that he's in love with him is just far too much for him. I think admitting that he loves, truly loves, Guillermo would be admitting that he's never felt anything like this before. I think it would be admitting that he's never let anyone in this deep.

And most of all, I think that would be giving Guillermo the power to hurt him like no one has ever managed to do. Not his 37 wives, not his dead children, not Gail. No one. Because if he lets Guillermo see all the most intimate parts of him and Guillermo doesn't like what he sees... that would break him, I think. If Nandor finally allowed himself to really try with a relationship and still got rejected... well, let's just say that it would hurt a lot worse than Gail's rejection of the shallow version of himself that he allowed her to see.

I think that the real root of Nandor's issues is a fear of vulnerability, loss of control, and rejection. He won't let himself fully feel his feelings because he can't control where they'll go. We're talking about a literal former warlord over here. He likes to control things and he likes to feel powerful. The fact that he can't control his own emotions is troubling to him, and the fact that he can't control his relationships with others is even more so.

So he at least controls what he gives them of himself. What he allows himself to internally acknowledge. He still keeps some parts of him segmented off and secreted away. Because it's a way to protect himself and protect that sense of control. If he never allows himself to become fully vulnerable with a person, he can retain control. If he never allows anyone to fully know him, then they cannot reject the most fundamental parts of him that he never allowed them to see.

It is, I'm afraid, one of those mortifying ordeal of being known things.

We're starting to see him loosening up, though. He was willing to give up control of the Council. Control of the household. Control of his life to Guillermo. He's willing to be something other than the leader at all times. And he's starting to let go of those emotions he's kept on such a tight tether for all these years.

I keep coming back to s3, y'know? When he said, "I have no one to share my dreams or my fears with." That's what Nandor really wants here. He wants someone he can finally free himself around. He doesn't want someone that's willing to let him confide in them -- he wants someone that he can bear to confide in. He wants someone who he can trust with those parts of him like he's never trusted anyone before. He wants someone who he can tell his most secret desires to without fear of judgment or reprisal. He wants someone who he can talk to about being afraid without feeling like he's lost a fundamental part of himself when doing so.

And then in 4.06 that's exactly what we saw. We see Nandor truly opening up, truly allowing himself to be vulnerable with someone on his wedding night. But not his wife. It was Guillermo, when Nandor finally allowed himself to give Guillermo something real and true and scared. To admit how he was really feeling right in that moment. The vulnerability we saw in his eyes for just a moment was heartbreaking.

He's still completely repressed and completely in denial. The fact that he went through with the marriage in the first place is evidence of that. He still ended up choosing yet another shallow, empty relationship that would place no real demands on him. But I don't think he's going to be able to ignore what he really wants for much longer. I think realizing what a massive cock-up this wedding was is the beginning of the end for him.

I think Nandor's going to hit a breaking point soon, and it may very well come when he realizes (or at least believes) that Guillermo no longer wants him. He's finally found that person that he's willing and able to give everything to... and that person might just reject it.

For now, anyway.

Ah... love... I feel you, Nandor, it sucks...

#replies #wwdits #wwdits meta #nandermo #wwdits s4 spoilers

331 notes · View notes

msookyspooky · 2 years ago

Note

wifeyyyy if it’s possible can i have 21, 30, & 4 for my bb sev?? 🖤

Of course you can!! 🖤🥺😩 You picked such good ones too wifey oml! (This is like 3 weeks late srry angel 😭 I'm using she/her pronouns since you do; hope that's okay! Also I'm making reader human bc they are so hard to kill or even hurt as vampires. Severen can't square up with the sun even tho I'm sure he would if he could. There were so many different scenarios I just settled on this one.)

4: Slasher fights someone for reader

21: Slasher finds reader hurt after reader goes missing

30: "Who did this to you?"

Human Fem!Reader • Near Dark if Caleb's Dad Never Found Them • Angst • Hurt & Comfort

Severen Finding His S/O Hurt

"Yer gonna create a hole in the carpet; stop pacin!" Homer grumbled after a boot knocked over the card tower he was making on the campers floor.

Severen ignored him, his spur jangled every step as he paced. "She should've been back by now...Where the hell could she fuckin' be?!...The sun 'el be up any minute!"

Homer huffed, leaning his face into his hand with an annoyed look. "Probably wisened up and went back to her normal life before she became food. She even did it before sunrise where you couldn't chase after her."

"Hush now." Diamondback muttured, leaning against a chair near the front.

Homer turned his head slowly and shot a long annoyed glare at her. "Why? She ain't one of us. If he ain't gonna turn her, then her only purpose is to be dinner in due time. Face it. She was like a walkin', talkin' prime steak waftin' in our faces everynight." He looked at Severen before he went to work on his card tower again. "She realized she was bound to be a meal one day if she didn't get lost while she had the chance."

Jesse sighed and ran a hand down his face. "The old man's got a point, Severen...It's a possibility she saw what you could do, got scared and ran off. That being apart of the night scared her bad enough to go back where she belongs."

You both had an argument after he killed someone in front of you this evening. You didn't have too much of an issue at the shady bars or creepy old men after you but this time you were in tears at what you saw. Maybe they were too young or crying too much or something? He didn't truly pay much attention. They were food. Simple. There was no other option unless you wanted him to die of starvation...But this victim still severely bothered you.

The argument got heated and ugly very quickly before he accidentally hit the side of the camper, creating a large dent in the metal. He didn't even punch it as hard as he could, just smacked his hand against it. It was a heat of the moment thing no different than you slamming something when you got heated. Him yelling at you while doing it sent the wrong message...You took that as a threat, looking at him the way most humans looked at him. The way prey looked at him. It hurt him deeply to see you flinch back with wide distrustful eyes before shaking your head and telling him you needed to clear your head. Normally he'd refuse to let you walk alone at night but he was so incredibly disappointed and pissed and confused with you that he figured it was best if you took a breather and so did he. That was over an hour ago. With dawn approaching and you nowhere in sight; he was becoming worried.

Severen shook his head. "Nah...No, she wouldn't do that. She don't look at it like that!"

"Sure she wouldn't. She's just so special, ain't she?" Homer sarcastically muttured. Severen kicked his boot out and knocked over his card tower again. This time on purpose.

Homer closed his eyes with a long exhale through his nostrils before he got up, throwing his hands up. "FINE. If it bothers you that damn bad, go look for her!"

Severen gritted his teeth with a wry grin. "Not a bad idea, lil boner. First smart thing outta yer mouth all night-"

Severen went to the door but froze when he saw the handle turn. He straightened himself, fully expecting you and not wanting to look too desperate after your argument. His heart sank and his shoulders sagged as he saw it was Mae and Caleb back from their nightly feeding.

Caleb locked eyes with Severen as Mae looked around. They both had been gone longer than the others, completely out of the loop.

Diamondback called over to them. "You're late. I told you kids to watch the time."

Mae smiled. "Sorry, got...Carried away and lost track of time."

Homer sneered at that with an eyeroll. The room was errily silent compared to the usual shouting or laughter they came home to on the regular.

Caleb finally spoke up. "Uh...Everything alright?"

Severen didn't answer and no one else did either.

Mae looked around. "Where's YN?"

"Gone. " Homer mumbled as he went to his sleeping corner early.

Diamondback rolled her lips before slowly telling them after a long moment of silence. "YN took a walk and she's not back yet."

Caleb tilted his head. "...But...The sun?"

"Yeah we got eyes, boy." Severen snapped. Shaking his head and moving past them both. "Fuck this, I'm gonna go look for her and drag her ass back here-"

Jesse quickly put a hand on the door to shut it as soon as Severen opened it. Dark blue light to the sky and a pink hue in the distance. Jesse gave him a stern look. "Are you simple or suicidal?"

Severen glared at him. "Jess, I can't jus' wait 12 hours to go lookin' for her!"

"Yeah? And what am I gonna tell her if she comes back and you're nothing but ash?"

Severen gave him an outraged expression, his voice rising. "Ya jus' said she might not come back!"

Severen stared at him long and hard before lifting his hand off the handle slowly, eyes never leaving Jesse's.

"I said it was a possibility...Damn it, Severen! What the hell are you gonna do? Huh!? You gonna risk our safety for a human? This is risky enough she might run off and tell outta spite. I allowed her to be here unturned as long as you turned her in due time...That's been almost 3 months ago, Severen. We supposed to wait another 3 months or maybe 3 years till she makes up her mind? Now I'm not saying she hasn't been a big help during the day for us...But time is ticking. Your time squandering around her mortality is running out, Severen. "

Mae watched intently as she leaned against Caleb. Caleb looked hesitant before he opened his mouth. "I-I can help look for her once the suns down! At least talk to her."

Jesse looked at him a moment before looking back at Severen. "We rest then we'll all keep an eye out for her tomorrow night...But you are not going out into the world with the sun almost up."

Diamondback walked up and placed a hand on Jesse shoulder, urging him to their nook to sleep. Jesse gave Severen one more glance before following.

Caleb stayed behind a bit as Mae called for him. He walked over and put a hand on Severen's shoulder. The two bonded after that stunt he pulled with the van in the sun years ago.

"She'll be back, Severen. She was crazy 'bout ya. Almost as crazy as you are with her." He offered with a grin.

Severen eyed him and nodded. Caleb pulled his hand back and nodded as well. His own gifted spur jingling as he followed Mae to the back of the camper.

Severen sighed heavily and ran a hand over his hair. He SHOULDN'T give a shit. He never did before! He was single with the occasional fling for the better part of his existence...But you were different. He really bonded with you these last few months. He blamed himself not turning you on account of him just wanting to play cat and mouse with you. Wanting to keep that innocent pureness being tainted by him going for as long as he could as a kink at this point...When in reality; it was his own fears. He was scared he'd fall in love with someone that would walk. That he'd turn you and you wouldn't be as in it as he was...Ironic when he considered it now. His usual impulsive nature being tested with you.

He leaned his head against the wall as he closed his eyes. His chest ached and he hated it with a passion. This was an emotion he wanted to be rid of along with his humanity he tossed aside. He thought he did until you came along and won him over. It was love at first sight when he saw you that night. He wanted to turn you then and there, had every intention to but some type of excuse always came up on his part and yours. The more you bonded, the more attached he got. The more attached he got, the more he was scared of the exact thing that happened tonight; scaring you off or you resenting him for eternity for turning you without your permission.

'Shoot, should've just said the hell with it and done it had I known she'd get cold feet after this long.' He thought bitterly.

He didn't expect to sleep but he must have as his eyes snapped open and his head jerked up to banging on the door. He groggily forced himself up and covered himself with a stray blanket; not knowing what time it was. He readied his pistol, prepared for a cop or a random just in case.

He barely opened it just to have you barrel in. He yelped and covered himself from the sunlight pouring in as you shakily slammed the door behind you.

He shoved his gun back in his jeans waistline and ripped the blanket off with a growl; the skin on his hand sizzling from the sunrays touching it. Glaring at you as you had your back turned towards him. "Where the hell have you been?! You think you can jus' run off and come back in whenever you damn well please?! ...YN! Would ya look at me when I'm talkin' to you-" He cut his own sentence off when he forced you to turn around and saw the look on your face.

His eyes widened as he finally took you in. Hair a mess, clothes ripped, tears streamed down your face and bruises littered your body. The bruise forming on your eye had him bristling.

"YN?..." His voice softened, catching in his throat as he saw your lower lip wobble. He felt his brows raise up with dismay as you whimpered. He raised his hands up to cup your face. "Honey, what the hell happened? Where were you? Talk to me." His thumb brushed over a stray tear rolling down your check near your bruise. He gritted his teeth, voice lowering in his throat. "...Who did this to you?...Who the god damn hell did this to you?"

You sniffed. "Some guys. They stopped their truck when they saw me near the road...They...They..."

He stared down at you, his heart sinking so low he thought it would drop out of his ass at this point. He felt sick at the idea. "Did they...Did they touch you? Did those sorry motherfuckers-"

You shook your head and cut him off. "N-No, I got away...Severen...I'm sorry-" You whimpered, rushing to him as he clutched you to his chest. Hearing you sob made the rage he felt get shoved to the side.

He cradled your head to his chest, wrapping his arm around your entire torso to get as close to him as possible. "Hey, hey now. You don't have a damn thing to be sorry 'bout...I'm..." He hesitated a moment, not used to saying it. He finally relented with a long sigh. "I'm the one that's sorry here...I didn't mean to scare ya earlier, sweetheart."

He felt your shoulders shake as you clung onto him. Your fingers gripping his jacket as you sobbed against him. He swallowed, looking up and blinking at the sounds coming out of you before he picked you up and brought you to sit in the corner with him away from everyone else. He dragged the discarded blanket over with his foot before grabbing it and placing it over you in his lap.

"Yer safe now. Ain't nobody gonna hurt you ever again...Never, ever again, baby." He kissed your forehead while he cradled you. You and the sun were the only things keeping him from marching out of that camper and hunting down anyone and everyone that resembled men in a truck. He'd burn this entire tiwn to the ground and every town nearby if it meant killing those responsible for this.

Your fingers clung to his jacket as you laid your head on his chest. Letting sleep over take you, completely exhausted from running the whole way back and stress of it all.

A few hours passed, you woke up and realized you were on the floor along with a blanket tucked neatly around you. You looked up to see Severen and Jesse quietly bickering back and forth.

You sat up and they stopped, everyone in the camper was up and looked at you like you were an alien. Mae was the first to drop to her knees and place a hand on your shoulder. "YN, are you okay? We were so worried about you."

You nodded and tried to stand up.

Diamondback glanced over at you as Mae helped you up. "What did the fellas that did this to you look like?"

You straightened yourself, trying to piece it together. You described the two men.

Jesse folded his arms. "And the truck?"

"Red Chevy...Older."

Caleb asked. "What direction were these bastards goin'?"

"I...I don't know...Towards the East I think."

Severen walked out the camper, letting the door slam behind him and you followed. It was barely dusk, the sky still blue in the distance.

He called out to you. "Just stay here, I'll take care of it. Now I know how sentimental and shit you can be but I'm killing them for the both of us. I can't help it and-"

"No!"

He froze and turned back to you. "What?"

You marched up to him as you heard the others come out of the camper. "I'm going with you."

"YN, ya don't need to"

"I want to." You swallowed, a wavering glare on your face as you stared up at him. "I want to make sure it's them."

"And once I know it's them; I'm going to rip em to shreds...You understand that, right?"

You swallowed and nodded. He sighed and stared a moment before shrugging. "Alright. I suppose I need you to identify em anyways unless we want a fire to take over the whole town."

Homer scoffed with a smirk. "God, you and Jesse are awful proud of that Chicago fire, huh?"

Caleb snickered with Homer, some inside joke as they all stepped forward.

"Then it's decided." Jesse spoke up, his coat on. "We're going huntin' for a special kind of vermin tonight."

You all made your way to the nearest town where you saw the truck go. You instantly felt sick, recognizing their truck parked outside of a business that was closed for the night. Both of them talking with another car.

Severen went to walk towards them and Jesse held him back. Mae flinched as Severen tried fighting to break free. The mere sight of these men making him feral with unbridled rage. Severen jerked away from Jesse with an accusing glare as Jesse gave him a stern glare back. "Not yet! Let's see if they leave the vehicle, we can't have a car get away and tell cops."

You all waited in the dark near the building. You anxiously watched as Diamondback seemed to sense your nerves and nudged you. She gave you a small encouraging smile and you forced a smile back that faded as quickly as it came.

Staring from a distance at the men that mocked and hurt you...You felt anger and shame and fear and disgust.

You all eagerly waited. When the car pulled away; it was on.

Diamondback walked out forst as a distraction, making a noise near one direction as they had lecherous grins her way...Then confused looks as Homer blocked another path... then concern when Jesse and Severen stood in front of the truck. Caleb and Mae hung back near the edge of the building to protect you as you watched.

The look in Severen's eye was chaotic, unhinged rage as opposed to the sadistic glee he usually had. His jaw set tight and a sneer on his face. You realized the minor annoyance he felt towards your argument the night before was NOTHING compared to what he felt towards these men for blackening your eye and attempting to do god knows what else.

The men shouted at them and Severen stepped closer. "You touched what's mine...You disrespected what's mine...You had the fuckin' audacity to hurt what's mine...Now, I don't have any other choice but to rip your spine out yer assholes." Severen growled out as he came towards them with a smirk.

You watched Severen grab the ones throat before Caleb forcibly turned you around and Mae covered your ears. You tried to fight them to no avail, beyond confused and irritated when she mouthed to you. "He doesn't want you to see him like that. He made us promise."

You blinked in surprise, not sure you understood her right but she mouthed it to you a second time while cupping your ears to poorly block out the screams and gunshots you heard. You wanted to be offended that they thought you were some baby that couldn't handle two men hurting you getting their just desserts...But then you remembered your argument with Severen, the look on his face when you backed away from him and your chest hurt at the thought once you realized how he must feel.

It wasn't long before she glanced over Caleb's shoulder and released you and so did Caleb. You shoved past them to see the corpses on the ground. Homer's gun out which honestly surprised you and Severen dropping one while furiously wiping at his mouth with his jacket. Smearing the blood from his lips to his jawline. His shoulders squared and a feral look on his face until he locked eyes with you.

You watched him a moment and he watched you. He didn't walk towards you, he didn't make a move. Just waiting patiently for your reaction to what he just did. You ran to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. Not the least bit worried about the blood getting on you. He bent down and hosted you up in his arm.

Homer sighed and put his gun away. "I got dibs." He pointed to the one he shot as he walked over to feed.

You and Severen ignored them all as you leaned back to look down at him as he held you up. His inhuman strength made picking you up entirely too easy.

You stared down at him, his eyes going to your bruises and black eye. You hated how your wounds didn't instantly heal like theirs did. You hated how scared you were, how helpless, how you seemed to drag them all down. These people that killed for you and the man that was enraged at anyone hurting you.

"...I'm ready."

He blinked at you. "Ready? For what?"

"To turn. I'm ready."

"...Ya sure 'bout that?"

You considered the alternative but still nodded. "Yes, I'm sure...Last night I was terrified. I couldn't fight back and thank god I had the opportunity to run...I never want to feel like that ever again. Besides..."

He raised a brow at you as a smile crossed your lips. "Nobody has ever protected me or fought for me like you have, Severen. If that isn't a sign that I should get bit and start a new life with you I don't know what is."

A slow, disbelieving grin crept up on his boyish face. "Well alright. Can't argue with that logic...Not here. I wanna do that with you in private. Make it special."

You wrapped your arms around him as he held you close.

Jesse and Diamondback stood side by side as Jesse mumbled. "It's about damn time."

Mae and Caleb walked hand in hand once the danger to their family was gone. All while Severen picked you up bridal style and led you off someplace private.

#severen imagine #near dark imagine #near dark imagines #near dark #severen #severen near dark #near dark 1987 #tw rape mention

70 notes · View notes

theanonymousfoxsimp · 2 years ago

Text

Some deranged sleep deprived headcanons from yours truly

People make ocs for heisenberg and fanfics where the reader is like some sort of pet to him,then there's these swap au headcanons for what if the reader/oc was the lord instead of heisenberg

How about an au where heisenberg is the pet/lycan and the reader is the lord of metal but the personalities are the same. Karl as this sarcastic "funky lycan" Miranda gave you as a pet that never really died like the others. He just sorta-lives and you find it odd since your factory isn't lycan friendly. He's just so flirty ,sarcastic and sometimes a dick but you can't bring it in yourself to get rid of him.

So imagine these and some headcanons for him

Tiny!lord reader where heisenberg teases the reader all the time about their size despite being the most scariest lord. He just doesn't care,he manhandled them whenever he wanted and even during meetings,he's still handsy,keeping you in his lap for "safety reasons" because he doesn't trust the big vampire lady. He just wants an excuse to hold you

lycan!lord reader where karl and the reader are both lycans and really don't care about hiding it. He has no shame in his lycan blood,he truly adores how he can tease you and just fuck with you but he doesn't test your authority-you're there for a reason and he respects that but that doesn't mean he won't be a total tease about it.

Techwear!lord reader where the reader is just this decked out badass looking lord,I'm talking the whole black outfit,good military grade boots,mask,belts,ominous and scary overall look,everything. Karl is so curious on how Miranda let's you dress like this?? But then again you're a lord and he somewhat knows about the duke but your clothing is not what she makes the villagers or other lords wear. Eventually he asks for similar clothing like yours

Werewolf!lord reader where karl is a lycan,he is first dropped off to the factory but instead of a normal lord-he is met with a hulking wolf like figure-whom is half his size/taller than him by ALOT. Neither you nor him predicted this meeting this way,he's just waltzing into your factory during a full moon because he felt like he should after being kicked out for some reason he forgot. He's confused,super confused but he knows it's you,it's some weird connection but nonetheless he never stops loving you after

Headcanon time

Pet!heisenberg who barks at anyone who comes through a door,it doesn't matter if you announce it or if someone else does,he WILL bark and he cannot control it

He does have a pair of really fluffy ears and a really long fluffy tail for some odd reason when in comparison to other lycans(Miranda never admits it but she messed with his genes,she was going for a Sheppard lab mix but that didn't quite work out the way she was hoping it would)

Adores scratches behind the ears,back scratches are also very good as well as chin scratches. He LOVES chin scratches the most but he never admits it

Will chase something if you throw it with your power

A furnace,a living furnace whenever you do allow him on your bed

Sheds so much, it's everywhere but he never cuts it because he gets cold way too easily

Dislikes baths,he just smells like a wet dog whenever he showers so he has to use an obnoxious amount of soap and different scented items

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #lord heisenberg #daddy heisenberg #lycan!heisenberg x reader #lycan heisenberg

43 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 4 years ago

Text

⭐Yandere Joestars⭐

(Parts 1-7 + Bonus Charcter: Joseph and Johnny’s characterizations are based off @dear-yandere ‘s interperations) I tried to write this mostly in the Joestars' POV. Their respective darlings resemble lifelike dolls rather than human beings to further illustrate how out of touch with reality the Jojos have become.

Warnings: Gore, kidnapping, dehumanization.

Edited: By the amazing Peri!! (@tealyjade-libran )

⭐Jonathan Joestar is possessive. ⭐

It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it...

It's an old saying, one that Jonathan remembers from an antique storybook his mother use to read him. It didn't mean anything back then, when he was still an infant too young and new, to fully comprehend what "owning" and "losing" was. But as the years ticked by faster than any clock could keep track of, things started to change. What had once been a passing quote in a chivalrous story about knights and dragons, soon turned into the epitome of Jonathan Joestar's life.

Soon love wasn't about saving a princess or impressing the neighborhood girls with his boxing skills. No, all too soon love became about own and guarding.

There may have been a time -long before "Jojo" and Dio met- when Jonathan was just like any other gentleman. Tender and sweet, flirtish at gatherings and charming in ladies' companies...but that was a Jonathan from a could-be-past that had been demolished the minute Dio Brando stepped foot onto the Joestar estate. From then on things depleted all so quickly. Everything Jonathan had come to unconsciously cherished had been so easily stripped from him by his beloved new "brother".

Everything he loved had been killed, destroyed, or broken in some inhuman way. His friends had abandoned him, his lover had distorted him, his father didn't even notice him...

"It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it". The second time he hears that phrase, it freezes him to the pavement, his body star-struck like he just received a message from the heavens. Although it's rather peculiar, why "heaven" would convey a message to him in such an unholy place.

With Dio having practically kicked Jonathan out of the mansion and countryside. Jojo had no other place to go but the back allies of London. Sure he still tried to be home for supper and bedtime and any other time his father may get an inkling of his absence. But when there was no need to 'appear' Jonathan took to the London streets away from Dio and his lackeys.

In fate's bizarre game, it's in a backstreet that reeks of days old licker and rotting flesh of paupers that no one has bothered to bury. That Jojo hears that life-defining idiom once more. His dulling sapphire blue eyes follow the mist of those melodious words. Staring until they're practically itching to cut through his sockets and run after those little words. But they stop right before they can leave their eyelets, they stop and stare at the figure that strolls out of the shadows, in such a way, that would make Jojo's father slap him across the face for being "barbarous".

It's luck or fate or maybe even destiny that leads the heir of the Joestar legacy to meet his darling in the slums of England.

"How my heart resonates when I lay my weary eyes on your enchanting face..."

There's an odd sweetness about the naivety that surrounds his little friend. A sort of innocence that comes with not knowing about the hell that he's gone through. It's charming in a moderate way, his darling can't come to despise him if they haven't got a clue who he is. Keeping both his worlds as far apart as possible is really the only option left. Dio and his friends can't hurt his new friend? Lover? Companion? In actuality, Jonathan really doesn't know what you are to him. At first, you're merely a distraction from his crumbling, lonely shell of an existence. A sort of invisible pillar holding up London's bridge before it collapses into the River Thames. Sure he views you as another person, unlike the other noblemen Jonathan has no desire to treat you as anything less than a respectable young lady despite your social statutes.

Dio can have the noblemen and ladies, he can have all of George's affection and favor, Heck Dio can have the whole goddamn world for all Jonathan cares. So long as he has his darling, his sunflower, his only means for living, then he will be content.

Jojo lost everything he once loved, but he swears it to every star in the night sky that'll preserve his darling from the wickedness that runs this cruel world. He'll cherish her while she's still in his arms...

He'll protect her, just like the knights did in the old bedtime stories his mother would tell him.

"...I swear on my honor as a Joestar that I shall never lose you to the likes of anyone, I'll be a true gentleman, a true knight and I'll protect you from any who wishes cause you harm."

⭐Joseph Joestar is Protective and all so patronizing.⭐

Why must Love hurt so much?

It's solitude, pure utter solitude that attracts Joseph to his darling. Oh sure, he must have known them from an earlier time in his life, back when the words Hammon and Ripple just sounded like fancy dessert names. Back when he was still a naive kid wishing on every goddamn star that he could just meet one of his parents for a fraction of a second. Back when life was easy when everything made sense. That's when he first met his darling. Although all so many years ago he probably just thought of them as the little sister he never got a chance of having.

There's a numbness growing inside him now that his life has slipped off its axes, hurling into unknown darkness that plagues him in the form of Pillarmen and red gems.

Everywhere he looks there's a reminder that nothing's going back to the way it used to be. No waking up to Granny Erina's voice calling him down for breakfast, no running around chasing Old Man Speedwagon. Everything is gone, replaced by Lisa Lisa's brutal training and Ceaser's endless taunting.

Day by day nothing changes, but once he looks back every little thing is different. Ruptured and mangled into something unrecognizable.

But then there's his darling. Someone -or rather something- that's still the same. Just like before. Her smile is still the same as ever, bright and cheery as she runs up to him wrapping her arms around his abdomen muttering about how much she missed her "Dear Big Brother".

(Y/N) is a comfort, a familiarity in a strange new world. She's something so frail and vulnerable, not to mention naive. Thrusted into a world where horror writers don't dare venture into. It's so likely that she'd be captured by one of Kar's zombie vampire things or -even worse- charmed by Caesar’s silver tongue.

It's thoughts like these that haunt Joseph at night, keep him up and wandering into her room just to gaze at her sleeping form. He's lucid enough to know how it might look. Like he's the bad guy trying to take advantage of a defenseless little girl. But he can justify his actions, he's her big brother, he has to watch over especially when she's at her most vulnerable. If Ceaser ever tried anything or some vampire freak snatched her away in the dead of night, Joseph would never forgive himself!

But what does he get for all his efforts? What does he get for all his sleepless nights and hours upon hours of worrying? Just a small smile and a fleeting kiss on the cheek. No sincere, "Thank you big brother," or, "You're my hero Joseph!" Nothing, nothing worthwhile anyway.

Now it's a competition, a battle to the death if it has to be -funny how he takes this more seriously than his match against Wamuu.- He's competitive by nature and he's willing to do anything to earn his darling's affection once more. He doesn't care who he has to beat within an inch of their life so long as he can have his darling back in his arms.

There is an aftermath to all of these, once all the fighting has ended and the battle's won. Once Joseph has finally claimed his prize. There's a certain way his darling has to act. She’s got to smile and play the role of the dotting little sister once more. Just so Joseph can justify his actions...

"And your next line is, 'I love you more than anything else big brother Joseph!'...at least I wish it was."

⭐Jotaro Kujo is cold and sadistic.⭐

Never learned how to love...

A lover by Jotaro's book is nothing more than a walking, talking doll. Someone who cooks meals, irons clothes, and kisses him on the cheek before he leaves for the day. Sure they have other uses, in flares of passionate moments, they're something to hold onto, another pair of limbs to get tangled in. Something hot and solid, someone to push down, to weigh his force on.

That's it, that's all there is to it...

A lover and a convenient toy are one of the same.

He knows it's wrong to think about someone that way. To deprive a living thing of all their thoughts and feelings just so it's suitable for him. But at the end of the day who wants to hear idle chatter and gossip or go outside for walks in crowded areas. All too social, it's all so troublesome. All Jotaro wants is a closed-off life, away from the scums of the earth...away from people in general.

It's such an inconvenience to seek out a lover, to hassle through dates and meetups in hopes of finding someone that clicks. Jojo would even go so far as to call it wishful thinking. So it has to be a pure accident that he even meets his darling. They're just someone who gets tangled in with the crusaders. A perfect living perception of 'wrong place, wrong time'. Someone who's life gets blown to bits and shambles just because fate decided to play a cruel joke on them.

And that's what piqued Jotaro's interest. The desperate, depleted look of pain cemented over their face. The sparse dying gleam of determination that blazes within their eyes. Oh, what Jotaro wouldn't do to snuff that little ray of hope. To watch as what little purpose they have is ripped from their arms. What he wouldn't do to see them in pain...

Pain is submission, that's really all Jojo wants. A darling submits, not out of their own free will, but because every little thing they've ever loved has been slaughtered, all that they cherished has been stolen from them.

But it's not enough

It's never enough

Although Jotaro adores the looks of anguish that decorates his lover's face. There's something more satisfying about maltreating them. About leaving marks all over, about leaving bruises that never lose their violet glow. He's claiming his darling, physically and mentally. Not a single day goes that Jotaro doesn't remind his lover who they belong to. From verbal taunts that plague his darling's mind day and night, to punches that break bones leaving them paralyzed on the floor begging for help, to cuts that are just a little too deep to ever heal properly.

Even when his darling is behaving, even when the poor little thing does everything her lover tells her to do, there's still going to be some sort of violence directed at her. Some backhanded remark about how useless they are just because they couldn't follow his mother's recipe. Some sort of blow just for greeting him 'too late'. Trivial things morph into punishments, just for Jotaro's sick amusement.

At his core, Jotaro is an unresponsive man, one with no regard for how others feel. He's distant, it's a trait he can't change. He likes how he does things, how there's no room for slip-ups when it's only him. Even his darling isn't someone he'd consider opening up to. Their opinion of him doesn't matter and their feelings are irrelevant. Most days he's gone until the last possible moment, leaving his darling an endless amount of time to mull over every word and scar.

But here's the catch.

As the clock ticks by, as the nights and days begin to merge into an endless existence, as all hope burns in the pits of hell, darling's mind is also going to stray. Ever so slowly losing its perception of reality.

'Maybe' spiders begin to spin webs of doubt through darling's empty cranium. The isolation begins to bite at her skin like the razor-sharp fangs of frostbite. They start to crave Jotaro's harsh touches, they start to miss the venom-like words. Every insult and slap to the face is welcomed, all the misplaced anger and death threats start to feel like sweet kisses and flowery touches.

Poor darling no longer sees big scary Jotaro as a monster. They've lost the ability to see him for what he truly is.

And what happens when Jotaro does finally come home? Oh, how little (y/n) will ravish in the gut kicks and loathsome words. How she'll take every beating with a sweet sugar-coated smile.

Cause this is her life now. A meaningless existence that revolves around Jotaro and his bleak personality. A life that's only worth living when Jotaro is around.

Is it even a life?

"Yare yare daze you're such a hassle, be glad I keep you around...”

⭐Josuke is obsessive with delusional tendencies.⭐

Maybe I'm the one you'll fall in love with next...

Just like his "father" Joseph, Josuke is stuck in a perpetual state between diaphanous and phantasm.

There's something all too wrong with Morioh nowadays. The narrow streets and verbose buildings have started to feel like a transparent cage. The town has always been small, barely reaching a population of 3,000 despite all the new families that keep moving in.

Nevertheless, everything has dulled, faded, and withered into a monochrome collage. The layers of repetitiveness had finally begun to pick at Joskue's nerves...

And yet somehow, by some diabolical twist of fate. In the mists of the oceans of familiarity, Josuke’s eyes grab onto some shimmering pearl lounged into between the crowd of familiar faces.

Sure he's seen this girl before, but he's never actually seen her. Never stopped to look at the odd way their eyes twinkle like newborn stars or how their skin shimmers with the glow of a thousand suns.

One second is all it took, a fleeting compliment as you passed by Jojo in the peppermint flavored afternoon. Your hair flowing like a tapestry of the galaxy as you disappeared in the crowd of dead pulsars. Not a care in the world, not for him, not for anyone.

Destiny was definitely up to its old cruel tricks again.

He's not stalking. Josuke will swear on his grandfather's grave that he'd never "stalk" a harmless little girl, like some distorted maniac. He just happens to bump into you at the beauty parlor when he's picking up a new brand of hairspray. And it's totally an accident when he meets you out in the abandoned fields! Honest! It's not his fault fate wants the two of you to keep meeting, it's not his fault that you guys are meant to be!

It's not technically a friendship that you two start to build up, it's far from one. Friends don't dream about sugar-filled kisses behind school walls. Or about ice cream that tastes like scandalous touches and candy induced moans. No, Joskue isn't your friend, he NEVER wanted to be your friend. He knows that! He knows what he wants...but with each passing day, he's beginning to doubt that you know that.

He'd never realized he's been so sensitive on you. So entranced by your out of tune voice that muttered rather than spoke. He's seldom been so eager to throw a punch and crack his knuckles on someone's skull, just for saying you looked "lovely today".

Whenever his eyes don't land on you, a rage-filled volcano bubbles in the pit of his gut, uncontrollable anger that festers inside of him, like lava waiting to spill out and burn anyone that wanders too close. His palms itch with the need to hold you, to feel your soft skin rubbing against his.

The jealousy is always there, pricking at his skin like rose thrones. Until they inevitably cut through his flesh and make him lose his composure. He's ready to kick and punch and hurt and kill anyone that comes too close to you, anyone that saunters off their orbit and makes a beeline for you, disturbing the balance of solitude that Josuke so eagerly sets you into.

Sometimes in the dead of night, when the world has finally dozed off, Joskue's mind begins to wonder. He thinks the way he feels about you is the same way an addict feels about his drugs. Maybe to him, you're even more addicting than heroin and ecstasy...and yet he can't quit you, he just doesn't want to quit you. Nothing in this world could compare to your sweet voice that tickles his ear when you lean in, to whisper a secret, or the may your full lips move when you throw another honey-filled insult at him.

He prefers when you're alone when he's the only one you talk to.

Sure there are exceptions like everything in life, although in the end

there's a sort of backhanded irony.

It's those exceptions that are going to hurt him in the.

Josuke trusts his friends, he knows that Okuyasu and Koichi would never do anything to hurt him...

But you're not on that list and to be fair you're surely the only one who can truly hurt him.

You fall for a friend of his. Not him, not the boy that's been driving himself insane just to earn a smile from you, not the boy that let you get away with insulting his hair and poking insults at his look, not him never him, it just can't be him.

"You're like an older brother to me"...Did you wash your mouth with acid before you spat those words at him? Did you intend to lace your words with knives and blades and rubbing alcohol before you stabbed him? It's figurative, sure. But it might as well be literal. No pain, no cut, no punch from any stand would ever hurt so much! You really don't know what you do to him, do you?

"I'm happy for you," it's a lie, blank and simple. Automatic words that he's practiced in the mirror a thousand and one times. He'd rather watch you suffocate on your own blood than in the arms of another man. He'd rather break every bone in your body than watch you kiss one of his friends.

How on earth had he ever come to love you? Someone as cruel and cold. Were you even human? You resembled some ice stand more than a flesh and blood person. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM.

He really hadn't meant for it to become an addiction, he hadn't meant to get all so used to the crunch of bones beneath his foot, and the bloodied lips quivering, shuttering out apologizes for having the gall to utter your name in his presence. But there's only so much a teenage boy can take, only so much torture that he can bury inside with a moonlight smile.

Addictions really do funny things to semi-sane people, huh?

It's a split-second decision, done in the heat of an all so regular moment. It's just a simple half-hearted punch when you beat him at another videogame. Then another

And another

Then a crack, another and another, and before either of you knew it you're on the floor screaming out in pure agony.

Josuke vows he's not being cruel when he breaks your bones so delicately. He can justify every crack, every fracture. Although it's rather repetitive and in certain cases borderline petty.

Five broken bones on your left leg just for "kissing" your new boyfriend. Your right leg is bent at an angle you're sure it's not meant to be. All because you hugged said new lover before going to class.

Josuke's once liquidy blue eyes that held the softness of clouds have been dulled over by a sort of thick mania. His once soft touch is nothing but nails digging into already bruised tissue. His lips wobbling as stray tears flow past his eyes. Muttering apologies and stuttering curses at both you and himself.

It's not really like his darling can leave after that incident. Josuke is known around town as the boy with a diamond heart. There's no way in hell anyone will believe what he did to you. It's just better, safer, to stick close to him, to swallow the indignities and paint a loving smile over your face when you gaze into his depraved eyes.

It's better to pretend to love him, rather than have another limb broken...

"Come on (Y/N), it's just a little crack. If you promise to give me a tiny kiss I'll let Crazy Diamond fix you right up."

⭐Giorno Giovanna is sneaky and manipulative. ⭐

Sono pazzo di te. Sei la cosa più bella che mi sia mai capitata...

There's a sleekness to Giorno, a cunning that's hidden behind layers of charisma and charm mimicking that of his birth father's. It's so easy for him to fool his darling into believing that he's a charming prince from a storybook. He's the good guy trying all so damn hard to make his dream a reality. He's admirable, he's noble, he's Giorno Giovana, the golden boy.

It's not like he ever intends to hurt his darling. He'd never dream of laying a hand on them, he's all too familiar with the wounds that come from endless beatings. The bruises and phantom pains, that get worse as the days slip by. He knows real pain, and unlike all so many others on both sides of his family, Giorno doesn't want his lover to experience an uncia of it.

He'd never repeat what his stepfather and mother did to him. He's going to try and do everything he can to make sure that his darling is safe...

Because isn't that what's important? To make sure the one you love is safe. To make sure they don't get swept off their feet by some masquerading drunkard or taken advantage of by some fanciful sadist.

Giorno will do anything to keep his darling safe, even if it means tampering with their mind a little. Nothing too serious, he'd never even considered changing anything about them. Although isolating them isn't completely off the table and a few verbal threats are fine from time to time. Just for precaution...

Giorno is a rather determined boy, he'll go to any lengths to isolate his lover. Scaring away friends by letting Gold Experience give them a small out of body experience. If they're persistent then he can't guarantee that that out-of-body experience will simply remain an experience much longer. It's not out of malice, but it's what must be done for the sake of his darling, the only other thing he cares about.

There's a shift, a difference between the young naive Giorno Giovanna, the golden boy with starry eyes, and the new boss of Passione, the Mafioso who holds the whole country in the palm of his hand.

Oh sure, as a simple Soldato Giorno was dangerous in his own right. But Don Giorno? He's the sort of monster written about in the grimmest fairy tales. Wearing the appearance of a true king but underneath the luxury suits and priceless watches, he's just another greedy, fire-breathing dragon.

As the Don of Italy's most influential gang, Giorno's manipulation tactics have gotten rather ....hazardous. He doesn't have time to waste getting rid of every single person that poses a threat to his darling. If someone looks their way, he'll send some goons to take care of them.

Although it's so much easier to keep his lover locked away, he even has the perfect excuse now. He's the head of the mafia, he has all so many enemies who jump at the opportunity to hurt him in some way. So he has to keep his defenseless little lover locked away in some mansion that's all so far away.

He's also a bit more violent now. Giorno's more physical, ready to break a bone just for a wrong word or a cracked jaw from a punch for even asking to go outside. He blames it on the stress of running an organization...although it's more likely that all the power from passion has begun to rinse away Giorno's caring side.

"Cuore mio, Resta con me per sempre"

⭐Jolyne Kujo is clingy and obsessive and delusional.⭐

I can't stay away from you...

Jolyne is a rather condescending yandere. Her rough ragged exterior does little to hide the clingy neediness that writhes inside her shattered heart.

She's soft, dependent, desperate at best. Wanting her darling to approve of every tiny trifling thing she does. Needing their words of praise and approving smiles to have the courage to live another day.

At times it seems like the only thing keeping Jojo alive is the "good girl!" and "I'm proud of you!" her darling throws her way. Chanting the words of praise with closed eyes and fluttering smiles of anxiety.

It's difficult to make her sweetheart realize how virulent this relationship is, far too hard to call Jolyne a Yandere. The derogatory term applies to someone who ceases all control from their lover, who locks them in a basement, and throws away the key. It applies to murders and

stalkers and lunatics that roam the streets in the dead of full moon nights. It applies to those who were thrown into Green Dolphin for a reason.

Not to some girl whose life has been demolished over and over and over again.

Not to the girl with a star birthmark that follows her darling around like a lost puppy in the freezing rain.

But even Jolyn has her limits. She's been let down time and time again, abandoned and framed by those she thought she loved unconditionally. From friends to boyfriends to even her own father, everyone leaves, they take what they want, and then they leave.

Flesh like strings, stitched into a web of antithesis and distraught moods, act as a solid, interchangeable reminder of who really holds the power in this relationship. Of how Jolyne can go from needing her darling to controlling her darling in just a fraction of a heartbeat. She loves them, she swears she does...but they need to stay close to her, they need to only think about her.

Her addiction gets worse as the days tick by. It's less romantic, less loving. Morphing into a dependency, a compulsion. Rotting thoughts of her darling suddenly leaving, plague her every waking moment. The once semi pleasant conversations between her lover and her friends, get cut off like a severed limb.

Even Hermes and Foo Fighters aren't "good enough" to be around Jolyne’s lover. She's all so, scared they'll try to take them from her. Stealing the ONLY good thing in her life.

There's a certain degree of control that Jolyne's willing to give to her darling. A sort of freedom to make, revolting appalling choices, so long as they include her. A freedom to boss her around and make her submit. Her darling is free, so long as that freedom revolves around Jolyne.

"(Y/N)~ don't look at them! You should only focus on me! I'm supposed to be your world!"

⭐Johnny Joestar is sadistic and manipulative.⭐

Arrogance disguised as affection...

It's all degradation, all harsh words that sting worse than bullet wounds. Glares from dull wicked blue eyes that might as well kill, cause it's better than the alternative. Smirks that make being alive so damn distasteful. Kisses that engrave the lingering taste of rotting lead into your tongue.

Johnny isn't sweet, he doesn't smile at his little sweetheart. He doesn't pat their head and kiss their temples while uttering sweet nothings into their blushing ear. No, his lover doesn't deserve a honey-coated life. They don't deserve to have what was stolen from him by his so-called "loved ones". Instead, he uses them as a living dart board, for both his acid-laced words and bullet-like fingernails.

There's no love when it comes to Jojo. He doesn't want to waste time on something so frivolous as a "significant other". But he does like having someone -or rather something- to play with, a form of entertainment that bends at his will. Not a pushover, not someone who's too proud either. But a living doll that can take a few verbal spats and survive an armada of fingernail bullets through the stomach.

Oh, sure he wants to break them, having a toy that's so conflicted, that questions their own sanity is so much more fun. But it's the intervals that count. Johnny wants to be the one to break his darling. To engrave the helpless look of distress into his memory. He wants to preserve every scream, every tear. That's the whole purpose of even keeping a darling.

Johnny rarely lets his darling out of his sight. It's so much easier to play with their mind if he's the only one they ever talk to. They'll become so easily dependent on him if he's their only companion. Although sometimes Gyro can get a little too touchy and friendly. And there will be occasions when Hot Pants start to pry into the darling and Jojo's personal life. But the incidents are few and far between. Not like Johnny minds, if anything these minor secondary "meetups" are useful to the paraplegic jockey. They refill his darling with the most precious thing..." Hope". Just so Johnny can beat it out of them all over again.

There's a darkness that resides deep within Johnny. A toxicity that laces his actions. His life is miserable and he's damn well sure it'll always be that way.....

So why not take his lover down with him?

"Don't you love me darlin' ? Cause I certainly don't love ya."

⭐Jorge Joestar is delusional and obsessive.⭐

What if we lost our minds, together?

A love story better than his parents, that's all Jorge wants. Flower field dates, and quick lingering kisses before midnight. Something sweet, that doesn't have a macabre end. A romance without body-snatching vampires and zombies that shed their flesh. Something normal, gentle, lovable.

Although with the family he's been born into and the kind of things that keep finding him. Jorge doubts he's ever going to get such a hopeful love life. He's all so desperate to carve a life for himself outside of his family's shadow, but in the end, it's simply eager wishing.

He's not exactly sure what he's even looking for in a lover. Someone sweet but strong-willed, an average answer. Someone who bears a sort of resemblance to Lisa Lisa. Not physically but rather mentally, he's not a coward, he swears he's not, but he just wants someone who can protect him. A fair exchange in his eyes. His lover will guard him against the bullies and freaks of the island and in turn, he'll protect them from the grim ghouls that run amok through the world. Although when push comes to shove he isn't sure if he'll really be 'protecting' his lover or running away and hiding somewhere with them.

He just wants to fall in love and not go insane, a reasonable request, if he hadn't seen the worst that the world has to offer. It's just wishful thinking, sweet dreams for a boy designed to attract trouble.

He doesn't want to have conversations with his dead lover's head. He doesn't want to wear their skin and waltz around town. He doesn't want any of that creepy, supernatural stuff that destroyed his parent's love.

He just wants normal. But as the years slip by Jorge's grip on "normal" slowly begins to decay.

Normal is something, but what that something is has become a blur. Normal isn't vampires and zombies and ghost clowns that throw nooses around people's necks...Yet on the other hand maybe it is?

He's so far gone that he can't even differentiate between methodical and irregular. His brain's capacity to understand the difference has gotten so altered and broken.

Once he finds his darling he does try to act like the ordinary people of the Canary Islands or England, depending on where he's residing at the time. He tries to follow the mode, just to impress his lover. It's a façade, a bloody masquerade that's bound to deteriorate once he and his lover have settled down.

Although a poetic, domestic life had always been Jorge's dream, he soon comes to learn that it just doesn't suit him. Jorge's paranoia starts to increase. It's comical at first, the way his eyes dart to closed doors, half expecting a killer to emerge. Although the same paranoid tendencies can become rather smothering at times. He's all so certain something is going to jump out of the shadows, some creature with sharp fangs and knife-like claws is going to rip his lover's body to rags.

He's gotten rather umbrageous now that he's the one who's married and living in the Joestar estate. His tendency to run away from any form of conflict has morphed into a rogue-like sense, much similar to a rabid dog barking at anyone who gets too close to its territory. He keeps his darling locked away inside, triple-checking the locks to make sure no one or thing can get in. He avoids the probing disquieting neighbors who still speak ill of his widowed mother and murmurs about the "curses" bestowed on the Joestar bloodline. Sometimes even getting physical when the insults shift towards him and his new lover.

Punches are thrown.

Insults exchanged.

And then the door and windows are locked once more.

Leaving both Jorge and his darling in the chilling company of the semi alive shadows.

It's safer in the basement. It has to be safer down there. After all his mother kept his father's severed head down there for decades before anyone found it. So it's only sensible that his lover will also be safe, tucked away in the darkness of a brick room some few meters under the earth. He's not acting like his mother -and deep down he prays that this isn't something his late father would ever even consider doing- It's a thin line of justification, but he can reason with himself so long as he knows it's not something his other family members have ever done. He does try to keep his darling comfortable down there. Buying them the most luxurious furniture and comfortable bedding. Constantly bringing them new forms of entertainment.

Keeping them in this preserved state is what any reasonable person would do. Not just another insanity driven Joestar.

"It's for your own safety" he's repeated that phrase an umpteenth amount of times, although every time the sculpted words leave his tongue, Jorge becomes less sure of who he's really trying to convince.

Jorge is all so sure that he's doing all of this for both his lover's safety and to erase whatever misfortune follows around the Joestars, like an airy plague. Even his enrolling for the great war is done with this mindset...

Even though in the end it's also this mindset that gets him killed. Leaving his darling a wide window to freedom.

"Darling, what do you think when you look at me?"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

851 notes · View notes

comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, sweetheart! I have a prompt for you ❤️ Geralt has chronic pains since the mutations. Sometimes he can't get up, because everything hurts so much. Sometimes he does not eat for days (weeks...), because he cannot go out hunting. As the years have passed, he has managed to mask the pain on his face. Nobody needs to know. His brothers have already looked for a cure, but the potions only ease the pain for a few hours. +

+ When Jaskier started following the witcher on the path, whenever the pain became unbearable, Geralt told him that he had picked up a contract. A contract that would perhaps take days. And then he went into the forest as far away as possible, so that no one would be able to hear his cries of pain.+

+Jaskier knew he was lying. But he just didn't know what he was lying about. Until one day, tired of this situation (he's his best friend, for God's sake!), Jaskier decides to go after Geralt and find out what's going on. You can change anything you want ❤️

BAAAAAAABBBBEEEE

listen I lived the chronic pain life for a while and if someone would have just told me to shut the fuck up and confront the problem things would have been WAY easier lmao

Warnings: Lots of swearing. ye ole self-depreciation. chronic pain.

__________

His back had ached for the last six decades; this sort of twisting torment was nothing new. His second round of trials had induced horrible spasms and, according to Vessimir, Geralt had broken the restraints usually used for young witchers and damn near writhed off the table before the sorcerers had restrained him. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in sixty years because of it.

Eskel and Lambert had sourced out different potions and spells over the years, sometimes putting him under Axi just so he can sleep despite his body, but with the extra mutations came heightened adaptability. If he took any potion too frequently it stopped working, used any spell too often it would barely touch him. While this made his job much easier, and much safer, he was in a never-ending nightmare of shooting and radiating stabbing pain emanating from various points in his spine. It was worse than any stab wound or monster bite he’d ever endured on the bad days, a dull throb on the good days.

Traveling with Jaskier was surprisingly helpful in this aspect. He made it easier to get rooms with real beds and didn’t care that Geralt’s limbs draped over him in the only comfortable sleeping position he could find most nights. He insisted on getting Geralt hot baths he would never be offered on his own and once blackmailed someone into letting Geralt into a sauna. Of course, Geralt had never told him, there was no point, but having an advocate when he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, defend himself was nice.

However, as with most things in Geralt’s life, things eventually went to shit. A fall off a two-story roof chasing a vampire the week before had depleted the few potions Eskel had scrounged up for him last they spoke and, bed or no bed, there was no way Geralt could stay with the bard and pretend he was fine. The longer he tried the more explosive his behavior, and well that wasn’t fair was it?

He had gotten up early, before the pain had time to settle in the pit of his stomach and make him nauseous, to head off to the foothills. Giving Jaskier a lie about a contract a town over and meeting up later, he headed to collect Roach and disappear.

Mounting was a miserable affair, even with a hay bail to help him up. His leg nearly gave out from what felt like one of Yennefer’s electric shocks running the length of the limb before he had the bulk of his weight over the saddle. But once he was on, he was relatively fine. Not trotting fine, but comfortable enough to go at a steady pace out of town without groaning or screwing up his face in agony. It wouldn’t do to scare the townsfolk if he wanted to come back and collect his bard.

He let Roach meander as far as she wanted off the road running parallel to a stream, letting her choose where they’d be camping for the night once they were far enough from civilization.

He hated doing this, letting his guard down and in the wilderness no less, but he was holding himself upright on the pommel by the time Roach found a sandy bank next to the stream. He practically fell out of the saddle, unbuckling the girth and giving its bulk just enough of a tug to let it fall off the mare’s back. Even the little effort put into untacking was agony, but he needed his bedroll off the saddle and Roach needed a break. He collected the wood he would need for a fire before he let himself rest, knowing that as soon as he stopped moving the muscles would tighten and cramp up, making it impossible to move until morning.

He was peeling his shirt off ever so gingerly when he heard a twig snap. Dropping the garment back over his shoulders he gingerly turned to peer into the woods in the sound’s direction. If something or someone came upon him now he was at their mercy unless he could muster enough energy for a sign.

“A contract, huh?” Jaskier stepped out of the treeline with his arms crossed and a surprisingly parental look of disappointment on his face.

Geralt relaxed a little, plastering the mask of calm on his face as he got back to tugging his shirt over his head, “You followed me?”

Jaskier deflated, dropping his bag and lute next to Roach’s tack as he moved to help Geralt out of his clothes, “I knew you were hiding something from me, but this? Geralt? How long have you been injured?”

The witcher laughed, wincing at the dull ache through his entire torso from the previous effort of keeping himself in the saddle, “Half a century? Give or take.”

“What?” Jaskier sounded offended, why was he offended?

Geralt just grunted, clenching his jaw to keep from yelling as he stood and waded into the stream of snowmelt. All the air left his lungs when he lowered himself into the freezing water, but as it lapped over his back and sometimes even his shoulders he felt a small bit of relief. Being able to lean back a bit and be supported by the current was almost intoxicating after all his muscles had nearly turned to stone over the course of the week.

Jaskier was now standing at the bank with his arms crossed and a look of fury on his face, “I’m your best fucking friend- don’t look at me like that we’re using the ‘f’ word today- and you tried to hide a debilitating long-term injury? Geralt what the fuck?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” Geralt huffed, doing his best not to get angry. He hurt and he was vulnerable and Jaskier was using the ‘f’ word and getting his hopes up.

“Oh shove it up your arse. You make everything else my problem, why not this?” Jaskier was on the verge of yelling and Geralt still couldn’t figure out why.

Geralt stared forward in silence, calmly noting his hands shaking from the cold, or maybe it was the pain, he didn’t really know.

Jaskier swore and turned to rummage through their things, arranging and rearranging things as he waited for Geralt to get out.

However, Geralt didn’t want to get out. He wanted to be left alone to be miserable in peace. He wanted to have one fucking day where he didn’t have shooting pain running through most of his body. Long ago he’d given up hope of a day free of pain, now he just wished for an aching sensation rather than this bullshit. He also found he was liking the water. It wasn't as cold as it first was and his breath was coming easier.

Jaskier rolled up his trousers and waded out to the middle of the stream where he sat, “C’mon Geralt, you can’t stay here all night. You’ll die.”

Geralt frowned up at him, “I like it in here. Hurts less.”

“Dumb Fuck, you’re turning blue. Out. Now.” Jaskier held a hand out and Geralt found raising his arm was nearly impossible. He got it about halfway to the bard’s palm before he stalled out, shaking and staring at his hand in horror.

“I- Jask I can’t-”

Jaskier sighed, “You’re damn near hypothermic, here.” He reached down and hauled the witcher out of the stream, ignoring his grunts of pain as he walked him back to the fire he’d started. Jaskier went about stripping his soaked pants off, toweling him off with his old shirt, and redressing him all while glaring at him. Jaskier made him sip some boiled water before he bundled the both of them in one bedroll, wrapping himself around the still shivering witcher as completely as possible.

“Th-thank you.” Geralt gasped as Jaskier angrily shoved his arm beneath Geralt’s lower back, the warmth alone was lovely but something about the way his spine laid over the extra bulk was even better.

“You’re welcome.” Jaskier growled, head tucked into Geralt’s chest, “I’m still furious with you. It’s been over a decade and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Geralt swallowed back tears as he felt some of the tension ease in his back, “No one else really cares…”

Jaskier tilted his chin up to look at the witcher like he was sprouting a horn out of his forehead, “The fuck do you think I’m doing here? You think I enjoy being run out of towns and almost dying every other day? Shit, Geralt, you’re smart but sometimes you’re fucking thick.”

If it wouldn’t have hurt Geralt would have playfully smacked his shoulder, but moving any part of his body was a risk at the moment, “Thought you liked the adventure.”

“No, dumbass. I care about you. A lot.” Jaskier settled his head back down over Geralt’s chest, “In the morning I’m taking you to a healer. Or a sorcerer or mage or anyone who will give us answers.”

“Julek…”

“Shut the fuck up and sleep. Cute nicknames won’t get you out of this one. I’m still furious.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #angry jaskier #chronic pain geralt #the witcher #the witcher fic #geralt of rivia fic #jaskier fic #chronic pain #listen i asked myself how many times i could make jaskier swear and it was fun #regan writes #comfy writes

536 notes · View notes