ID: 1. Waist up of Laszlo and Nadja making out, arms wrapped around each other. Nandor comes up behind Lazslo with a pouty expression, clearing his throat and tapping Laszlo on the shoulder. 2. Laszlo turns his head, arms still around Nadja, to offer Nandor a kiss with a smirk. Nandor wraps his arms around Laszlo's waist and presses their lips together as Nadja laughs. /end ID
I’m obsessed with Nadja’s quick little mention that she and Laszlo go to Antipaxos together sometimes, so let’s go!
(ficlet beneath the cut. this takes place... let’s say, just before the series begins.)
It was much quieter here on the shores of Antipaxos now that it was dark. The tourists had all gone to Paxos for the evening, and all Laszlo could hear was the sound of the waves and their footsteps crunching in the sand.
“You know, there didn’t used to be so many people here,” Nadja said, her face upturned in the moonlight as her skirts trailed behind her in clear blue water.
She’d never looked lovelier, Laszlo thought. Then again, he thought that most nights. And most nights, it was true. Nadja grew lovelier every day that he knew her.
“I know, darling,” Laszlo replied, and he did. This was not their first visit to Antipaxos, nor would it be their last. He’d seen for himself the way the island had become a tourist getaway over the last hundred years. It had come a long way from the little village that Nadja had grown up in.
“You used to be able to wander the shores at night and gather seashells,” she said, as if he hadn’t said a word. “Now they’re all gathered up by midday. You can only buy them in shops.”
And Laszlo would have gone into a shop right then and there and bought her all the seashells in the world if he truly thought that was the problem. But it wasn’t. The problem was home, or a lack thereof. Nadja’s island had moved on without her, and it was now almost completely unrecognizable. Barely anyone even lived on the island anymore, and most of those who did lived here only to tend to the tourists.
He reached out to take her hand, unsurprised when she gripped it with a bit more strength than was strictly necessary. It must have been hard, to return to your ancestral soil and find only earth and sand. Not the life you had once lived upon it.
He thought about his own island in the middle of its own sea and made a face. Neither of them could go home anymore. Not now. Not really.
They’d created a new home together, a good one, but it wasn’t the same. There was a peculiar sort of solitude to be felt when the world moved on beneath your feet, in and out with the tides, and you stayed just the same.
Thankfully, it was a loneliness that the two of them could bear together. He brought their linked hands to his lips, and smiled against her fingers when he saw the way that her irritation seemed to dissipate with the retreating waves. “You don’t like gathering seashells,” he murmured against her skin, and she huffed out a laugh.
“That’s not the point, Laszlo darling,” she said, because what he’d said was true and they both knew it. “It’s just — they crawl all over the beaches like little ants, don’t they? Never knowing the true soul of the island.”
Which, for his Nadja, had been suffering. It had been poverty and despair and really, far too many donkeys. Nadja had told him so many stories involving donkeys. Her Antipaxos had inherited a legacy of sorrow, and it didn’t have much in common with the white-sand paradise that tourists flocked to now from all corners of the globe.
“Not like you, my dear,” he said, and she nodded, looking off into the distance in thought.
“No. Not like me.”
Those tourists who came by boat in the mornings and never weathered a night on Antipaxos’s sand-and-stone beaches would never know the pain of going to bed with an empty stomach. None of them had a cursed necklace containing their mother’s screams.
Nadja had been through a lot before he’d known her. Both before she’d been turned and after. And it had come out in stories, drips and drabs, over the centuries they’d shared together. The trials and tribulations of her childhood. The sorrows that still woke her from dreams gasping sometimes.
Some nights, when she lounged against his chest and he stroked her hair, when she murmured stories that made his heart ache in his chest, he wished he could take all that suffering away from her. But other nights, most nights, he knew that decision, if it had been his to make, would have been most unwise.
Because his Nadja was strong, so strong. Bright and vivacious and savagely beautiful, with nerves of steel and a temper to match. She’d borne those indignities and she’d flourished despite them. He wouldn’t belittle her, wouldn’t intimate that she had only gained strength through adversity. No, he knew that she would have been strong no matter what her life had been. It was the soul of her, still burning with an intensity that almost hurt his eyes even after all these years. Nothing could have dimmed or brightened it.
But he also knew that if her life had been different, if her experiences had been a little sweeter and a little more kind, then she might not be the vampire she was today. She might never have been turned at all, and then where would he be? Dead as a doornail and just as soulless.
And he thought she was happy now, at least most of the time. He’d done that for her. They’d done that together. If her life had been different, they might never have had the chance to do so.
The thought of that was almost too much for him to bear.
No words whispered, no songs composed. No journeys across the sea, no nights walking hand-in-hand in the moonlight. Years would be erased, centuries, and almost nothing could be worth that.
Nothing except his Nadja’s happiness.
Thankfully, she seemed to be perfectly happy with him now, if still prone to the occasional fit of melancholy. The years had been worth it to her as well, and she smiled far more often than she frowned. She curled close to him, skin on cool skin, and murmured happy memories, too. Ones they’d created together. Ones she’d had before he was even a twinkle in his father’s eye.
Ones he was only too happy to listen to for hours, the sweetest song she’d ever composed and for his ears alone.
Maybe they could still create some of those memories now, even if the white-sand beach that stretched out ahead of them was picked clean and barren.
“What say you we go to the other side of the island, my love?’ he asked. “You know, the pebbly one. Perhaps some sea detritus got caught up there.”
Her steps paused, and she looked considering. “You know, you may be right. The little creepy-crawlies always did love Mesovrika.”
“Too right,” he said, like he had ever noticed the wildlife at all during their trips to Nadja’s homeland. He’d always been far too busy watching her. “And after…”
Her eyes lit up and that little smile stole across her face, the one that set a thrill through him that had not faded even a little bit with each passing century. “After?” she asked, voice playful, and yes, that was the Nadja that he had fallen in love with so long ago without ever looking back.
“Well,” he said, pulling her hand close and sliding it into one of his pockets. “Maybe we could get a little bite to eat. See if we can find one of those tourists that baked themselves to perfection today.”
She wiggled her fingers in his pocket, brushing against some very interesting areas. “And after that?”
He smiled. “Why, we make love beneath the moonlight, of course. Don’t we always?”
They’d come back to Antipaxos many times over the years, and while the island itself had changed, the end of their visits never seemed to. Nadja spread out on a white-sand beach, holding him close and looking far lovelier than anything else in this mortal realm. Whispered endearments that never grew trite, not ever.
A love that still made him feel young at three centuries old.
He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close and listening to her giggle, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. Yes, he’d make as many beautiful memories as he could for Nadja, enough to blot out every stain that life had dared inflict. Again and again, for as long as the two of them lived. Which would be quite a while if he had anything to say about it.
Eternity was simple when you never walked a sandy beach alone.
yo those colin robinson headcanons were dope as fuck and i would listen to a podcast of his historical spoon ramblings any day. any thoughts about laszlo and nadja's past together? i for one have always been obsessed with that one frame in the opening where they're in 80s punk gear
I dont remember if i mentioned this or not but i imagine that they were the ones who lived in the manor originally, and Nandor was actually just some rando vampire that laszlo had over so often that nadja agreed to just let him move in. Also i like to think thy participated in many an alternative movement back in the day, nadja especially since shes much older than laszlo. I also like to think nadja was very involved in the early feminist movements (of which i am not educated enough to namedrop sorry💀💀 if anyone knows any that would fit the time period where she was in america drop em in the tags) since from what we've seen in the show she seems to have a very strong sense of that stuff! Also she and laszlo are t4t i dont take criticism. I definitely mentioned this b4 but nadja is a trans woman and laszlo is transmasc/genderfluid. bc i say so. Also theyre literally the pinnacle of romance. Idk what else to say theyve had a fucking lovely marriage because they love each other and set healthy boundaries. I want what they have so bad
ID: 1. Nandor, Nadja, and Laszlo sitting on a cushioned booth together, the latter two wearing matching outfits in dark blue pinstripes and pink and black lace. Nandor is leaning back, one arm running over his hair and the other stretched out along the back of the booth to rest on Nadja's shoulder. His tunic is half unbuckled and Nadja has one hand hooked in his ascot and shirt collar, pulling it down as she slumps forward over the table in front of them, hair spilling everywhere and eyes fixed intensely on the viewer. Laszlo is on her other side, arm resting on the back of the booth to place his hand over Nandor and Nadja's outstretched arms. He is smirking over at Nandor, who's gaze is staring blankly into the distance.
2. Front shot of the interior of a car, Laszlo in the driver's seat with his eyes fixed on the road ahead. In the backseat are Sean and Charmaine, who are making out heavily and pawing at each other. Sean's right hand is otherwise occupied by being stretched to the front seat to lace fingers with Laszlo. Laszlo brings their joined hands up to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of Sean's. /end ID
I can't even make this joke bc they really did try everything
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: Full body of Laszlo sitting on the ground with one knee pulled up, fully dressed in a suit. Nandor, wearing nothing, is sat beside him with his arms around his shoulders and legs on either side of him, pressing his junk into his hip. Nandor is frowning, a tear in his eye as he presses their cheeks together. Nadja, also wearing nothing, is kneeling just behind Laszlo on his other side to press her chest against the back of his neck, hands folded atop his head to rest her cheek on. She is also frowning, eyes closed as if in mourning as a single tear beads in her eyelashes. Between them, Laszlo stares straight forward with an impassive expression, words clipped and dismissive, "Yes, yes, very good, thank you." /end ID
What makes a marriage work is understanding your spouse’s needs
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Close up on Laszlo from behind where he sits on a couch reading some sheets of music. He turns around to face the viewer as a voice calls out, “Oh, my sweet, plump, pumpkin baby! 1b. Reverse shot to see Nadja standing there with a big grin, hands holding something behind her back. She says, “I know you have been very down-in-the-dumps since the baby Colin grew up, so I got you a sexy little present!” A pleased little grin shows up on Laszlo’s face as he replies, “Oh?” with interest.
2a. Nadja dramatically pulls the Cloak of Duplication out from behind her back, grinning. 2b. She tosses the cloak around her shoulders with a flourish and magical smoke begins to form around her.
3a. As the smoke clears, Sean is now standing there, arms out with a happy smile. Nadja does her best impression with a “Yo, Lasz!” 3b. Nadja-Sean strikes a pose, one arm behind her head, one foot kicked up, and says in her normal voice, “What do you think, my darling husband? Would a nice reaming by the boy next door cheer you up?” 3c. Tiny reaction shot of Laszlo, staring blankly.
4. Wide shot, Laszlo sobs suddenly and reaches out to his wife with both hands, crying, “I love you so much!” Nadja-Sean smiles fondly and walks towards him, arms out, replying, “Oh, my soft silly potato man…” /end ID
ID: 1. Close up of Laszlo and Nadja sitting naked in a bed with a red padded headboard and pale sheets decorated with red leaves. Nadja is sitting up, arm around her husbands shoulders as she flaps her hand dismissively and says, "The Guide is cute and all, but eehh, a bit vanilla?" Laszlo, leaning against her with some kind of blue cord with yellow writing on it tied around his neck and holding an Allen wrench in one hand, grins slyly up at his wife and responds, "Oho, you should hear some of the things she used to get up to." 2. Close up of Nadja listening intently, expressionless, as Laszlo's censored speech bubbles fill the rest of the screen. 3. Zoom out, we realize the pair are in a staged bed at Ikea. There is an Ikea bag at the foot of the bed with the handle torn off, presumably now around Laszlo's neck, and an Ikea shark plushie behind Nadja's back. Nadja sits fully up in the bed, fists pumping confidently and revealing a strap harness around her waist as she grins and declares, "Laszlo, I've decided to seduce The Guide!" Laszlo relaxes back next to her with a casual jazz hand and responds, "That's the spirit, my darling!" Behind them, an Ikea employee stands nervously, waving his arms at them and saying, "I'm serious, you can't be here, I'm calling security!" On the far side of the bed out of the employee's view, we can see blood spattering up the wall and someone's hand laying on the ground and going offscreen. /end ID
){kind=link}