#i'm writing a fanfic as we speak

[wanderingblindly]

On Intimacy (Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri, 600 words, Drabble)

Written in a 20-minute sprint with some very supportive besties on Discord, who are single handedly prying me from my writing slump. For the prompt: "There isn't anything that I wouldn't do for you"

God, it's embarrassing. He's only 24 years old, he's a professional athlete. Allegedly, he's in his prime – he should be, at least. And yet, staring down at his trainers beside the door, he's not.

He leans forward a fraction of a centimeter, hardly visible.

His back twinges.

It shows on his face.

It's been like this for days; the double headers and endless hours on the plane are taking their toll, the rough tracks are the icing on the cake. Jon's doing his best to work on him, he's doing his best to take care of it, and yet. And yet.

He can't bend down to get his shoes on, back extra stiff first thing in the morning.

He could do it, really, if he just admitted that he had to do it differently. Bending at the knee, keeping his back mostly stiff – he could do it. But he shouldn't have to; he's Lando Norris, he eats his stupid trainer-approved food and sleeps early when his schedule necessitates it.

His cheeks start to grow hot, vision going blurry with a destabilizing wash of budding tears.

Embarrassing.

"You ready to go?" Oscar calls from the kitchen, closing the fridge and probably tossing a water bottle between his hands. He raises a brow at Lando when he approaches the entryway, noticing Lando's fixated stare at his feet – at his trainers just a step away. "Lando?"

"Yeah," He says, wincing at the wobble in his voice.

Embarrassing.

But he can do it, of course he can do it. So he leans forward before jerking still – unable to keep the wince off his face. The tears – hot and frustrated and pricking at him from the inside – lose their battle with gravity, sliding down his cheeks.

"You're meeting with Jon first thing, right?" Oscar asks calmly, closing the distance between them with a quick stride. Lando nods, rubbing harshly at his eyes like he can will the tears away.

He doesn't see Oscar slide down to one knee, but he hears his water bottle thud against the floor.

With his palms still pressed to his eyes: "Get up." Lando's voice cracks, awash with a new wave of mortification.

"It's fine," He says, and Lando looks; Oscar's looking up at him, he tilted slightly to the side, fingers making quick work of loosening Lando's laces.

"I don't need you to put on my fucking shoes," The words are harsh, but his voice is pathetic; he's not angry, but rather hurt – self-flagellating.

Oscar shrugs, putting the shoe back on the ground and grabbing Lando's ankle. "I know you don't," His voice is calm, gaze fixed on guiding Lando's foot into the trainer, tying it up.

Lando's breath catches at the delicacy of his touch, something about it burrowing deep in his chest.

One shoe on and the other in hand, Oscar looks back up at him – the thin skin under his eyes flushed pink, lips quirked into the soft half-smile he saves just for when they're alone.

"But I want to." He finishes, driving the point home by reaching for Lando's other ankle.

"It's –" Lando starts to protest instinctively. Degrading. Unnecessary. Awkward.

Oscar cuts him off. "You know I'd do anything for you." He ties the second shoe with a sense of finality, not leaving any room for Lando's poor attempt at pride.

"Yeah," Lando says softly, pulling Oscar's gaze back up to him. He stands slowly, not breaking eye contact – nearly nose to nose. "Thanks."

"Of course," He smiles, leaning forward for a chaste kiss. "We're gonna be late to the track."

It's dizzying. Lando feels like he's floating on air, images of Oscar looking up at him running behind his reddened eyes.

He fights the butterflies in his stomach to get it out: "Right."

[walkingstackofbooks]

Today had been sponsored by Maths™️

And DS9, but that's just every day...

I sorted every episode in DS9 into whether it was:

"Julian-heavy" (main ensemble or more; approx. 40-170 lines),

"moderately-Julian" (ensemble; approx. 17-45 lines), or

"Julian-light" (barely there; usually <25 lines)

And also by how much I liked it:

Green band: 1st ("FAV FAV FAV") and 2nd ("SO GOOOOOOD")

Yellow band: 3rd ("real strong, I like it a lot") and 4th ("solid. possibly a bit weird. but good.")

Orange/red band: 5th ("a bit eh") and 6th ("Nah.")

And then stats happened on the interesections of such things! I haven't done all the maths I want to, but today I've learnt:

> My statistically favourite season is S3, with 85% of episodes in the green band (35% of them 1sts), followed by S7 with 80% of its episodes there (40% of them 1sts!). > Season 1 had the highest proportion of Julian-heavy episodes (37%), despite having 0 Julian-as-sole-protaganist eps. Season 3 was next with 31% of Julian-heavy eps. > 61% of my very favouritest episodes are Julian-heavy. If an episode is Julian-heavy, then it also got itself a 1st or 2nd rating. 110 episodes -- 64% of the series -- got a 1st or 2nd. In contrast, only 4 episodes got a 5th or 6th rating! Turns out I really fricking like DS9! 🤣

> In most seasons, 90-100% of episodes that were moderately Julian or more were rated 1st or 2nd. (S5 and S6 are the exceptions). > Season 6's "Change of Heart" is the only moderately Julian episode to be given a 4th -- every other moderately Julian or more episode got at least a 3rd. > Green-band Julian-light episodes tended to be Kira or Sisko episodes, or whole-ensemble, ends-of-season/two-parter type dealios. > Season 5 has the lowest percentage of green-band episodes (42%). It is also the series in which Julian speaks the least, at an average of 22 lines per episode. Seasons 3 and 7 by contrast have averages of 34 and 36 lines per episode!

... So I do have to conclude that, while I don't *need* Julian to be in an episode for me to love it (45% of my green-band episodes are Julian-light, after all), if an episode or season wants to be well-loved by me, it definitely helps to have a Julian around!

And, um, maybe I didn't need to spend a good 8 hours of my day doing maths to work that out? But hey, I had fun crunching numbers!

(Take a look at my fun spreadsheets!)

[batsinnappies]

Mute Obanai x Mute Giyuu

Just saying. It's cute.

[grimgummies]

Not going to lie, I’m surprised the fandom isn’t eating up the new tone shift and characters’ struggles in ep5. Maybe I’m not looking in the right spaces but fandoms usually love that stuff.

I KNOW I mean the amount of angst art that was made prior to the episode really made me think people were gonna take everything from the new ep and run with it. Though that's not to say people didn't. I've seen plenty of people discuss what happened in the episode (especially regarding John and his daughter/his family in general,, people were going insane over that and I get it like we're getting deeper into what happened to him and his family which I'm also super interested in. Plus seeing his photos in Ignacio's house really got people discussing his connections/past with the cult and how there's such a specific focus on John).

[unforth]

Since I've seen several posts floating around that try to rebut the points of @end-otw-racism by saying that AO3 is too big to moderate, can we PLEASE take a moment and remember that AO3 IS ALREADY HEAVILY MODERATED.

We all know the obvious one - that if you post anything about monetizing fic, you will be moderated into oblivion. We also all know why! This is essential to AO3's survival as a non-profit! No one would propose changing this!

But a lot of people seem to forget that AO3 is moderated in other ways! For a personal example, several years ago I got a "change this or we're removing your work" e-mail. The work in question? A collection of pseudo-ficlets that were somewhere between outlines and sketchy fics. What I got moderated for? I said in the a/n that if anyone wanted to expand my kinda-outliney nonsense into fully fleshed out stories, they were welcome to do so! I was told this was a violation of the ToS, because fics that are collections of prompts aren't allowed, and that if I didn't change the a/n I'd have to delete the work. Of course I edited the a/n, and my work was allowed, and I moved on. I did, immediately, delete another work I'd posted, which WAS literally sets of prompts I'd written free to a good home. It was clearly in violation of those rules, and I just hadn't realized content like that wasn't allowed.

Numerous things are forbidden on AO3 and will get moderated and potentially deleted, including:

advertising

"find a fic" posts

spam

plagiarized works

virus spreading

doxxing

actual CSAM

lots of other stuff as listed in the tos

If the foundation of your argument is "AO3 is too big to moderate" your argument is bad. AO3 is already moderated.

So that means your ACTUAL argument is "I think AO3 is moderated enough as-is and I don't think AO3 should be moderated in a way that might better protect fans of color."

Having that attitude despite the many, many, MANY fans of colors who say "hey, we don't feel safe here, can this be better moderated to protect us?" (when, by the way, the existing harassment policy SHOULD protect them but clearly isn't being implemented in ways that actually DOES protect them!)

Well. That's sure a take.

(TO BE CLEAR: I am anti-censorship. I am pro-moderation. I am pro-AO3. I fucking love your dark fic, your underage works, your non-con stories, your kinky pwp with "no redeeming qualities," your dirty-wrong-bad ego fics. I would NEVER want a solution that removed that content. And I believe AO3 is the greatest thing to happen to fic in my lifetime and I want it to continue to be the wonderful thing it is. I think that what AO3 already is can be reconciled with the demands of fans of color that they be better protected. I believe fans of color when they say that the current policies don't protect them adequately, that they don't feel safe, that this drives them out of white western fandom. I've listened a lot, and I've seen a lot, and I've learned a lot, and I want AO3 to be better than it is in this regard. I'm honestly kinda depressed how many people seem comfortable with the status quo.)

[dichromaticdyke]

Fic request/AU: Toki never auditioned for Dethklok and it’s always been a one guitar band and they are still world famous and wildly successful.

One night Skwisgaar hears something in the studio to find a spy has broken in! The spy who calls himself Toki is cornered and Skwisgaar takes the interrogation into his own hands to determine who this spy is and what he wants.

i wasn't sure where to take this, but you accidentally inspired a perfect concept in our dms.

With a sudden intake of breath, Skwisgaar snapped awake, still clutching his guitar in one hand and a notepad of scribbled tabs in another. This wasn't the first time he had fallen asleep in the studio while working on new Dethklok songs by himself, and he was certain it wouldn't be the last. Nathan and Pickles pulled their weight fine enough, but William was far too willing to get complacent with his own output. At times like this, he wondered if he should have let Dethklok become a two-guitar band.

He stretched his arms over his head, eager to get back to his firm bed that would, hopefully, realign his spine after it had been bent over the desk for the better part of eight hours. In doing so, he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. He tightened his grip on the neck of his guitar—he wasn't normally wary of intruders, knowing full well that Klokateers had methods of keeping them out, but that didn't stop his instinctual worry.

As he stood, he heard a slight high-pitched noise, almost like a yelp, coming from behind a few stereo speakers. He charged in the direction of it, his guitar held high above his head. Behind the speakers, he saw, was a man—a man with long brown hair and white and black face paint on.

"Jeg beklager!" the man cried as Skwisgaar cornered him. "Jeg beklager!"

Skwisgaar sneered, slowly lowering his guitar. "Norska?" he asked.

The man nodded, hesitantly.

"Eugh." Great. If there was one group of people he hated more than the Danish, it was the Norwegians.

"I didn't mean to scare you," the man continued in Norwegian. "I just—I had to—"

"This is a secure compound," Skwisgaar told him in Swedish. "No one should be here—especially not Norwegian black metal wannabes."

"I'm not a wannabe!" The man crossed his arms over his chest. "My name is Toki Wartooth, and I'm the lead guitarist of Horse's Dick!"

Skwisgaar grimaced at the name. "I'm sure it sounds like dildos. How hard could it be to be a black metal lead guitarist?" he asked with an eye roll. "Don't you have a church to burn down or something? Get out of here."

"No!" Toki grabbed onto Skwisgaar's wrist. "I came all this way!"

"For what? Want to burn down Mordhaus, too? You have about five seconds before I call the Klokateers here to have you killed."

"I can't tell you why I'm here..." Toki looked down at his feet, not releasing his grip on Skwisgaar.

While he did seem significantly younger than him, and a bit shorter, Skwisgaar could tell just from the faint outline of his shirt that this man was jacked. If Skwisgaar tried to get physical with him, he was sure he would lose.

And truthfully, he didn't have his Dethphone on him. He couldn't contact the Klokateers fast enough. He would have to get this Toki guy out of here on his own.

So, he feigned interest. "Whatever it is you wanted, I can't give it to you if you don't tell me," he said.

Toki frowned. "Well, my bandmate—his name is Runke Snogge—he doesn't like digital music. He hates Dethklok. But I heard you had a new analog recording format..." He trailed off, looking down before finally letting Skwisgaar go.

It was making sense now. He wanted to find a way to record his dildo black metal records onto water. He wanted to scoff at this idea, tell Toki that the highly complicated and expensive technology it took to produce HEARD wasn't something to be wasted on his stupid amateur music. Instead, he deflected: "Water records can only be recorded in Mordhaus. You don't even have a guitar or your friend."

"Yes I do." Toki pointed past Skwisgaar, who turned his head. Against the wall, near the door to the studio, was a haphazardly duct-taped Flying V guitar. "I was gonna try to record some of my tracks...but you were here..."

Skwisgaar sighed. This man was just so pathetically earnest, wasn't he? "Even still, without your friend, you won't be able to record your songs on water—"

"He's outside."

Skwisgaar narrowed his eyes. "What."

"He's outside. He didn't want me to come all this way by myself. He's waiting for me... Damn it, I should go."

And this time, as Toki made to leave, it was Skwisgaar's turn to grab his wrist and stop him. "Wait." He cursed himself for what he was about to do. "Just...wait ten minutes."

--

Dick Knubbler let out a yawn as Skwisgaar begrudgingly gave him a cup of coffee. "Alright babes, you ready?" he asked. Skwisgaar had been lucky that Dick hadn't been too far from Mordhaus at the time of his call, though he did wish that the man had slept in...well, any kind of clothing. Lending him his own robe was another sacrifice he was making tonight.

"Readies!" Toki said, his guitar strapped over his shoulder and plugged into the amps of the recording booth.

"Readies," the man known as Runke said, notably less excited than Toki.

Dick hit record, and the two Norwegians inside the recording booth began to record their first song: "Release Me from Conservative Hell." As they played, Dick swiveled in his chair to face Skwisgaar. "You know, the other boys aren't gonna be happy about this."

"Ja, I knows." Skwisgaar finished his own cup of coffee in one prolonged gulp.

"And you certainly don't let anyone else use the recording booth. What's this about?"

"Nothings."

Dick smirked, peaking over his shoulder at Hestkuk. Toki was in the middle of playing an agonizingly slow chord while Runke shrieked some nonsense about hating his life, or whatever. "Norwegian men are kinda cute, aren't they, babe?"

"I's has you killeds too, Knubbler."

[brittlebutch]

officially 10K into this fic and having a realization about where I'm at on characterization so far, so i'm wondering:

[purpleandstarlight]

Rereading an early DLTD chapter and getting hit with a nostalgic feeling over how (mostly) easy things were for the characters back then...

[buttertheflame]

A List of Things To Come

*a long post*

I was on hiatus for about 5 years, but I think it's worth the risk of coming back. These are some thoughts and hot takes I've had since then up to now. My professional life is busy, but when I have the time, I'll share. Anyone interested?

Here's a preview, categorized by fandom:

A Song of Ice and Fire:

For asoiaf canon, I’ll speculate on what Jon and Val could have been, and what they could have had together, if he had not kicked the bucket. I’ll also contrast it with Jon's dreams of a life with her, and why he put the torch to it. :( Because of the root of her dislike of Mel and Shireen, I figure she will not be pleased with un-Jon.

Game of Thrones:

In GoT canon, Jon did not love Dany as much as the script suggested he would. In fact, they both failed to take responsibility for the other person. I haven't seen anyone make a statement like this before. (The PTSD is real.) But fic writers did pick up on this and tried to fix it in canon compliant stories, with a lot of success.

Supernatural:

In Supernatural s12-s14, Mary should have found her sons to be way more weird, specifically with each other. But given what we see of her in s6, her characterization is consistent. She would have, and did, ignore the red flags for an idea of family.

I’ll share approving thoughts on Sam and Dean's relationship in the final seasons, disapproving thoughts on the final season of Supernatural, and how I speculated it would either go Gencest or Destiel. We know what happened. No one walked away happy and I think the fandom was all the better for it.

Destiel is not canon. It only became a one-sided love confession. (I know there's a lot of speculation on what happened b/w the studio, the writer's room and the post-production team. Idc. Not gonna touch it.) Thoughts on how I think SPN could have made Destiel go 100% canon involve tweaking the execution and balancing out the themes of Sam and Eileen's love story, the big bad plot, and Dean and Cas's 'love' story.

Outlander:

Outlander (show-only) thoughts, foremost on Roger Mackenzie. He has vexed me from the first time he appeared on screen. I love him dearly, but he vexes me, for how he consistently affects the plot and how that defines his role among the main cast. Later on, I'll run through my favorite moments, episodes and narrative arcs.

Miscellaneous:

I'll share a list of favorite ship-centric fics I've collected over many, many, many years. (Gotta be over 10 years' worth). Along with blurbs that explain my recommendation in a non-spoilery way. Fandoms include: Harry Potter, LOTR, Supernatural, The Walking Dead, ASOIAF, Game of Thrones, Star Wars (Sequel Trilogy), The Flash, Shadowhunters [look away book fans <3], Hannibal (show-only).

I'll also post drafts of fics I never got right and never finished. Mostly GoT-canon divergent Jon/Dany fics.

Most importantly, some very dear friends have encouraged me to vent and hype up my Jonerys fic series "We Could Live Together" as I write it. It's GoT-canon divergent, but I alter some of what occurred before 6x09. Then the story re-enters book territory and moves toward ADOS conclusions. I'd also love to break down and discuss songs from the playlists when it strikes me.

This is the summary of Part 1, "A Long Way Home" (published):

After the Battle for Winterfell, Jon was captured by Bolton men then later found by Daenerys not far from Dragonstone. Their meeting blossoms into the most honest love--until Jon suddenly leaves for Winterfell, only to return to Dragonstone months later with more terrifying tales of dead men and Winter storms. When Daenerys chooses to send her armies north to fight the dead, all is certain but the matter of their bond. After the pain they'd endured, can they come together again? Or will separation be too powerful to overcome? *or* A romantic tale of choice and second chances.

This is the summary of Part 2, "Awake For Ever In Sweet Unrest" (in-progress and unpublished):

Winter has come and further fractured the realm. Yet Jon and Daenerys's betrothal and alliance is well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms. The secret that threatened to break them has made their love stronger, casting a fragrance of hope that draws to the last Targaryens all who seek refuge from political turmoil. Cersei Lannister has fled King's Landing in favor of establishing a bank in Lannisport, to guard against her deposition by the Iron Bank. Euron Greyjoy has set up a naval blockade at Oldtown, yet manages to beguile the Hightowers. And Walder Frey's sundown years threaten to pull his House into a civil war. From the Wall, Jon and Daenerys begin to wage war on the Others. Yet the age of wonder and terror, of gods and heroes, leads them and their enemies in the least expected ways. It begs the question: does all happen the way it must? *or* A romantic telling of the new War for the Dawn.

This is what I've been doing the past few years: working, (dating lol), re-reading the books and joining theory discussions on other sites. What touched my heart was readers asking for me to continue the fic series. Even as I considered it, I was conflicted. Since the show and book canon are so enmeshed, I think we were really vulnerable to being whipped and scored by D&D. But we all found ways to lick our wounds. I'm grateful we were able to become closer and stronger. I'm glad to be a part of it.

So that's my preview. If you've read this far, thank you. <3

There's more to come.

[sailor-aviator]

Anybody got any We Abide questions for me?

[rayclubs]

I won't even apologize for all the Luisa Madrigal-posting. Look at the strong woman, boy.

[ghost-in-between]

as a phandom member who has been largely inactive on tumblr for a while now, i do wonder what sort of new unhinged memes and genuinely concerning (but most likely high quality) art and fanfic content i have missed.

anyone care to summarize?

[bumblingbabooshka]

Everyone needs to start getting way weirder (read: hornier) about this moment so I don't feel so alone.

Also - Tuvok....this is WILDLY funny. Tuvok is SO cringe I love him, he's the worst guy ever. Absolutely 0 hesitation to, IN FRONT OF EVERYONE, straight up go "Hey, first officer? Sorry for cutting you off in the middle of this life-or-death situation but I just couldn't help but notice that I, Tuvok, made a suggestion and you didn't follow it? That's literally never happened before. Did you not hear me or..?" There's literally not even a good reason for him to object it's straight up ONLY because it wasn't his idea.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Invitation to Writers!!

Hey you! Yeah, YOU, random writer reading this! Even if you haven't ever written or have been brainstorming something but never wrote a word of it! Time to get projects out of the mind and into paper!

(I don't care if you write fanfic, or novels, original work, brainstorms, I'M STILL TALKING TO YOU ^^)

Last year, I participated on NaNoWriMo - basically a platform where you add other writers, set a goal of how many words you wanna write in a month, and everyone can support each other and see how much progress you're doing! - and managed to write 100 pages of the book I've been brainstorming!

They're having NaNoWriMo Camp now in July, and I'm going to participate again! I want to finish my book this year still, so I'm trying to fit writing at least a bit every day until it's done - and having some people around in NaNoWriMo kinda helped me a lot!

I'm pretty much a lonely writer, I don't have anyone to talk about the stories I'm developing or sharing my goals and accomplishments - aside from my mom, but I don't tell her MUCH in detail, so yeah - and I remember having a small group of people updating their goals kept me motivated enough to write said 100 pages in a month.

So, if you think this is interesting, and you want to write more in July, you can set a goal as small as 100 words and get to work there! I'm gonna leave my link on NaNoWriMo so you can friend me and perhaps we can keep each other motivated during our writing processess!

And again, if you want to write a small 2 pages scene, or a whole 500 pages original fantasy RPG worthy story, or some fanfiction imagines, it's all valid!!

Feel free to add me, and I hope we can all finish our writing projects!

(You just click the link above to find me, or this one: polarisdelphi NaNoWriMo profile)

Hope to see you there!!

[megaawkwardhuman]

OK SO I wrote most of this starting at 2 am and stopping at like 3 also 4 am after listening to numbers by temporex for the fifth time (I was inspired by the overall vibe of the song link to the song if you wanna check it out) and originally it was going to be small bummer fic written only for myself where Guillermo did get turned by Derek and he goes back but nothing changes around him but I got a little too carried away so now it’s about (roughly) that and Nandor wishing for Guillermo to return after he left and didn’t return after becoming a vampire.

disclaimer: I'm currently clinging onto a free grammarly account for dear life and I tried my best to edit the nonsense I wrote instead of sleeping so if at any point this sounds weird I apologize! 

and with all of that out of the way I now give you Just Alright:

Guillermo sat in the same old bed he’s been sleeping in for over a decade. He thought when Derek turned him things would change but no not much changed when it came to the way he was treated. Things did change overall sure he was gone for weeks before returning to the mansion but in a way they haven’t. What it all boiled down to was the fact that nobody really noticed the change. Normally Guillermo chalked it up to them being assholes but the reason they didn’t care or notice this time around was due to the fact that they had gotten themselves busy while he was gone.

Laszlo tried to go back to his old ways but after the loss of baby Colin he found himself going over to sean’s place to distance himself from the energy vampire he help raise. Whenever anyone asks him about it he brushes him off. Due to him being away from the house most of the time, he didn’t even know Guillermo was back let alone now a vampire for a while.

Colin Robinson still doesn’t remember being a freak child at all and so he went back into looking into energy vampires just now without the help of Laszlo. He tried to get Laszlo’s help at first but after a couple of fuck offs he gave up. He still treated Guillermo the way he did before mainly to annoy him. 

Nadja had a lot on her plate. At first, it was having to deal with what to do now that the nightclub dream was basically dead then it was getting to the council building back to the way it was before to trying to get Laszlo to stop hiding away in the neighbor's house and actually getting him to sit down and talk about how he was feeling. With all of that, she didn’t seem to care he was a vampire now. I mean it was understandable she was doing a lot but she still treated him like a familiar. He wasn’t even her familiar to begin with yet he was still left to do all the hard labor for her. After some protesting and reminding her that he’s an equal now for the tenth time she got a familiar to do her bidding instead.

The only one who cared at all about the change was his ex-master Nandor. As for why well that’s a really long story. Let’s just say he’s the reason why he ended up back there.

Guillermo thought about going back at first. It was his original plan but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He knew he would have to eventually to get his stuff back but he wanted to fend for himself. He knew he could go out on his own he didn’t need any big strong vampires to fight for him he was Guillermo: by blood a vampire killer, an ex-familiar, an ex-bodyguard, and now a vampire. He knew how to kill he could live alone and they wouldn’t care if he was gone. If they did someone would have found him by now and begged him to come back.

But in the blink of an eye after a couple of weeks of trying to live on is own only to crash at Derek’s place half of the time to just living with Derek (Derek needed a friend anyway), he found himself face to face with the entrance of the place he wasted over a decade of his life in. He doesn’t remember walking back just suddenly being at the door.

“What the fuck why am I back here?” he asked himself. He tried to turn back but he couldn’t. No like he physically couldn’t turn back. Despite not wanting to be there he knocked the door. 

“Come in the door is open.” He heard a voice he really didn’t want to hear say. He could also hear a few footsteps on the other side along with a few small sniffles thanks to vampire hearing. He opened the door and got a few steps in before getting tackled into a hug by Nandor. Guillermo was not only surprised but still had no idea what on earth was happening.

“What the fuck is going on?” Guillermo says extremely confused. He looked around over the vampire’s shoulder as Nandor cried into his. As he was searching he found the Djinn standing there with his notebook and pen not too far from them. Well, that explains it. Guillermo didn’t have time to be upset yet since he has to deal with the sobbing vampire hugging him.

Wait Nandor was hugging him willingly? Guillermo tried his best to pinch himself. “Ow.” well he wasn’t dreaming so yeah he WAS hugging him and he was hugging him REALLY tightly. If he was still human this would have most likely killed him either due to suffocation or Nandor accidentally breaking something really important. 

“Oh, Guillermo where have you been? I was so worried about you I- I missed you so much.” as he talked he cried harder and harder. Guillermo was honestly surprised to see him in such a state. He can’t recall seeing him express his emotions or saying how he felt ever let alone see him cry this hard. He was HUGGING HIM for fuck’s sake. 

“Master I like this and all but this is starting to hurt a lot” he knew he didn’t need to call him that but he still did out of habit. Plus he didn’t know if calling him Nandor would piss him off so it was better to be safe for now.

“I just missed you so much and if I hug you tight enough you won’t be able to leave again.”

Guillermo would be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel at least a little bit like shit. But in his defense, he thought Nandor would be too busy reading his books or whatever to notice his absence. Sure he wouldn’t be gone forever since he has all eternity to go back to the house to say hi or to bump into Nandor while out hunting and small talk about his times as his familiar. He didn’t expect Nandor to actually be hurt by this. He knew he should have known better but he did what he did anyway without taking Nandor actually noticing into consideration.

“You didn’t even leave a note. I thought you were out on one of your silly human errands, but when you didn’t return I thought you were hurt or dead.”

“Well, I’m here now.”

“And that’s all that matters.” Nandor slowly let go of the hug.

Guillermo wanted to say his goodbyes and get out as fast as he can but he knew he would feel like shit if he left knowing it would hurt Nandor this much he made his way inside. 

After Nandor calmed down a bit they ended up walking to Nandor’s room to talk. Looking around his room and the house overall while thankfully repaired the house was still a mess. Bodies were all over the place, candles melted all the way down leaving puddles of wax, and every other surface was dusty. It reminded him of when he first returned to the house after trying to leave this life behind for the first time. 

When he entered Nandor’s room it was messier than the rest of the house but considering the state he was in when he entered Guillermo could make an educated guess as to why so he knew he couldn’t judge.

“Sorry for the mess. When I noticed you were gone for longer than usual at first I tried to ignore it but I just couldn’t. I tore this room apart trying to see if you hid a letter or anything that would tell me where you went. It was honestly stupid of me to think you would hide something like that since you didn’t hide the letter you left behind last time.”

“I really should have told you why I left before…” should he tell the truth?

“Before what?” he looked at him confused then he saw his fangs. “Oh…”

“I paid Derek to turn me.” 

Silence so thick you could feel it fill the room. It was Nandor who broke it with tears slowly running down his face again as he spoke.

 “Why?”

“Look I know you view vampirism as a curse and I knew you didn’t want to turn me because of that and I know you’re not the biggest fan of change so by turning this way you wouldn’t have to-”

“Why did you not come back?” 

Nandor’s words felt like a stake to the heart. Guillermo didn’t know how to respond so he froze. Any word he could think of saying vanished like he did weeks before abruptly and without saying goodbye. If he didn’t feel like shit before he felt like the worst person on planet earth now.

“Master I-”

“DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT!” 

“LOOK I’M SORRY OK!?”

“You think that’s going to make up for you abandoning me!?”

“I didn’t plan to stay away I was going to come back.”

“When Guillermo fucking when?”

Silence flooded the room again. This time It was Guillermo who ended it.

“Nandor look I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t intend to leave permanently I was going to come back and change everything for the better but couldn’t bring myself to go back I… I’m so sorry. If I knew I would be out for as long as I have I would have said goodbye.” In the middle of his sentence, Guillermo caught Nandor’s tears and began to cry too. “If I were you I wouldn’t forgive me.” 

Nandor went up to him and cupped his right cheek with his hand wiping away a tear. “Oh my sweet sweet Guillermo I knew you wanted it so bad but I didn’t turn you not because being a vampire is a curse. I didn’t turn you cause then you would have left. I know once you were one you would have no purpose here anymore. it was selfish sure but fuck I just couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving and I thought if I kept you busy you wouldn’t leave. Making excuses to keep you as a human, promoting you to bodyguard when your life was at risk, making turning you into a long trip all of it was to keep you by my side for as long as I can. When you were shipped off to England by Laszlo and I ended up traveling alone I was left to think about why I did this. Why I wanted you to stay for so long and when I realized why I didn’t want to think about it. So when we all came back as I was helping you out after you fell into the water filled basement I used finding someone to marry to cover up what I found out” it clicked in Guillermo’s head what he was getting at but he let him continue. “I was hoping every day that you would stop me from going through with the wedding, I made every task hard in hopes it would stop you and, when everyone was objecting I was hoping you would be in that line. I wanted you to stop me causes…I love you Guillermo so so much. I just couldn’t bring myself to fully accept it until you left.” 

Guillermo nuzzled into Nandor’s hand as he began to cry harder “I love you too.”

Nandor pulled him into a kiss.

They could get angry at each other for what they had done another time. For now, all they wanted to do was hug and be glad that they could express how they feel for hopefully not the last time.

And it wasn’t time flew by and they slowly vented out their feelings to each other. They had their scheduled yelling match about what they had both done to each other once all the tears were fully over a few days later. But what had started as them fighting with their tongues figuratively turned into fighting with their tongues literally. Needless to say, they forgave each other quickly after that. As for what they were now they settled on boyfriends. it felt weird at first to say but after a while, the word felt great coming out of their mouths.

Not much has changed really looking back as he sat on his old bed. Laszlo was still horny, Colin was still annoying and Nadja would kill him if he boiled her down into one word even if it was just in his head. But as he sees Nandor take a box of his stuff up to their new room he's glad he at least made one change. Considering he has all eternity to help the others for now he’ll take this as a win. 

“Guillermo, what are you doing?”

“Oh just thinking that’s all.” 

“You know I was doing some thinking too and I was thinking maybe I can give you my last wish.”

“How thought full.” he gave him a peck on the cheek. “You know I think I already know what I’m going to wish for.”

“May I ask what that wish might be?”

“A coffin big and wide enough for the two of us,” Guillermo said with the biggest grin on his face.

[kakusu-shipping]

I am so sorry I am being so annoying with Self insert fanfiction recently but I don’t really mean that because this is my blog and I do as I please and also @probably-some-goat is encouraging me so you all can blame him.

Mountain’s Peak

In which I am the first of a future 3 total humans to climb the Himalayan Mountains in not nearly enough clothing

It was warm. So warm. Emile’s eye cracked open slowly to stare at a blurry ceiling he’d never seen before, or maybe he had, there was no way to know without his glasses. The bed below him was solid earth, a layer of scratchy hay separated him from the cold stone floor. He started to sit up, and a voice spoke to him from the corner of the room.

“You awake!” She chirped, too far to make out any details, “Good good.” She leaned over, patting the robes piled on top of the human in a makeshift blanket, “Warm? More warm?” She questioned, tilting her head.

Emile sat up slowly, glancing around his makeshift floor bed until he found his glasses folded neatly beside the folded robe that’d become his pillow.

With his sight returned Emile could finally take in the room. It was small, with a single roaring fire and a window currently covered by a long red cloth that spread across the floor. Over the fire place hung the humans clothes, his thick orange sweater, jeans, socks, and fluffy boots, all drying from the cold. Under the blanket he’d been wrapped in yet more robes, thin fabrics not made to keep a human properly covered in the Nepal mountains.

Finally, he turned his attention to the owner of the voice that’d greeted him. She was beautiful. An Omnic with big LED eyes in an almond shape with three sensors placed in a small triangle on her forehead. She was sturdily built, with a near solid armored frame that left no hinges exposed and cylindrical arms ending in ball jointed wrists and legs that grew thick and ended flat after the knee joint, all signs of an Omnic built for the medical field, built for precision and careful work, with the strength to lift up to 300 pounds of human and equipment if need be.

“Ah, our snow bird has awoken.” A voice spoke at the door, low and soft. Emile hadn’t realized he’d been staring at his nurse until he was forced to look away from her to the tall, white clad Omnic at the door.

“ma- MASTER MONDATTA!” Emile threw his make shift blankets off in an attempt to stand to greet his idol, or at the very least sit up properly. Oh he was just as radiant in person, sleek white plating covered the Omnic’s face, his shoulder and neck supports exposed as he appeared to be missing the upper half of his chest plating, along with the protective plating on both arms, exposing the wires that would act as a nerves system that allowed the Omnic to reach out to Emile and put him back to rest.

“Easy now, little one, you must rest.” Mondatta spoke calmly as he sat on his knees beside the humble little human, who couldn’t stop shaking in his presence, “Reya has told me you are suffering a rather sever case of frostbite, it would be best if you remained still for a while.” He calmed, taking Emile’s hands into his own. The young human stared at his finger joints as they wrapped around his fleshy palm, watched his thumb smooth over his knuckles.

“Aoita making hot food. I go check.” The nurse, who Emile assumed to be Reya, patted Mondatta’s shoulder as she stood and began her way to the door, before tuning to motion to a kettle in the fire, “Hot water, rag, gently.” She made a motion of wiping her hands, and then she was gone out the door and around the corner, off to the kitchen to check on Aoita.

Mondatta gently pulled the kettle from the fire, unaffected by the metal’s obvious heat as he poured the boiling water into a bowl near by and dipped a rag into it. Gently, one by one, the Omnic massaged warmth by into Emile’s frosted finger tips, encouraging his blood to flow naturally by running circles on the human’s palm with his thumb as he gently wrapped each finger in the damp part of the cloth before drying them back off.

“Where did you come from, child? You are not from the village outside our monastery, nor the one at the base of the mountain.” Mondatta asked after a moment, Emile barely caught his words, instead mesmerized by the monk’s skills.

“Ah.. K-Kentcuky, sir... America..” Emile answered honestly, still staring at the joints in the Omnic’s fingers.

“That is quiet a long way to travel. What brings you here? Vacation with your family?”

It became apparent then that Mondatta assumed Emile to be a lost child, which was perhaps a fair assumption, as the human was only just barely 15, and looked much smaller than others his age.

“N-No sir! I came here to- to meet you!” Emile took his hand from Mondatta’s, looking the monk in the face. As he took a deep breath to build up his courage, “I- I want- I want you to take me as your student!” Emile declared as much as he could with his shaking voice and pounding heart. He gripped tightly to the collar of his robe to hold himself steady, it felt as though he needed to hold his chest, lest his heart escape. “My- My parents are.. A-Anti-Omnic, sir.. They don’t believe in your cause... But I do! And I want to support you! I want to offer you my aid and- And learn from you!”

“Your aid?” Mondatta tilted his head in curiosity, “What exactly are you attempting to offer me, child?”

“I- I grew up in a machine shop, sir. My father’s life work revolved around Omnics; Making them, repairing them. Even after the crisis we stayed afloat but running a repair shop, gr-granted only for.. Omnics who where... o..owned...” Emile felt the shame of his upbringing sink in, the grip on his robes tightened, “I-I’ve never met an Omnic I couldn’t repair! I’ve memorized every assembly book my father owned, I know I could fix and- And heal any damage that could come your way, sir, so- So please,” Emile bowed his head to the monk before him, holding tightly to his collar, “T-Take me as your student. I want to help you make a peaceful world between our kind.”

Mondatta stared at the top of Emile’s head for a moment, pondering his offer. The correct choice would be to call the authorities and send the child home. He was a minor, most likely here without his parent’s knowledge, possibly on stolen funds directly from them.

Yes, that would, morally, be the correct choice.

Mondatta put his hand to his chin, and tilted his head the other direction, “It gets rather cold here at night, and you packed rather lightly.”

Emile sat up, “I saw advertisements for the mining operation in town! I’ll get a job and buy warmer clothes!”

Mondatta gave a hum, “We do not have food supplies here, and most of the buildings do not have any heating, or a furnace.”

“I’ll be fine! There’s edible weeds growing in the hills, and I know how to start a fire safely!”

“I am not sure we have a proper place for a human to use the bathroom-”

“I can hold it!”

Mondatta’s thoughtful facade cracked, the monk broke out into cackles, bringing the human before him into confusion. A hand, warm from hot water, with smooth joints and golden plating placed gently upon Emile’s head, ruffling his snow white hair gently.

“Of course you may stay, my student.” Mondatta spoke with a smile in his tone, “No job or “holding it” required. We take care of our family here.”

Tears sprung from Emile’s eyes, his entire body shook joyfully and anxiously. In a sudden move he wrapped his bare arms around Master Mondatta, pressing his face to the remaining half of the Omnic’s chest plate, sobbing out thanks and praise, promises to repay the monk, and the entire Monastery, with his skills as a mechanic.

After a long time of crying, some hot soup by a lovely Omnic with a thick southern accent who asked to be addressed “Aoi”, and a little more care taken to Emile’s frostbite, the human realized something rather important.

“How did you get here?” Mondatta repeated his question, placing a thicker, almost quilt like robe on the human’s shoulders.

Emile nodded, “I remember seeing the Monastery, the lights in the windows but.. I don’t remember coming inside.”

“Ah. That is because you lost conciousness outside the monastery walls. Brother Zenyatta was the one to find you collapsed in the snow, he brought you to me.”

“I see... Please introduce me to Brother Zenyatta! I have to thank him for saving my life!”

Mondatta once again hummed, this time truly thinking on it. Though Zenyatta was a member of the Shambali, he wasn’t as keen on humans as some of the others who wandered the monastery halls. In fact, he was rather against interacting with them.

Perhaps then this is what one could call an opportunity. After all, Zenyatta did bring the human in, as Emile said he saved his life when he certainly didn’t have to. Perhaps this is human was a gift from the iris, one to help set Zenyatta on the right path.

“Alright then,” Mondatta nodded to himself, confident this was a good choice, “Tomorrow we shall pay a visit to Zenyatta.”