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octoberobserver · 6 months

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We're a Documentary, Not a Fucking Sitcom - WWDITS Fic

(Read on ao3 here)

I read ' 'The power dynamics seem so problematic. I mean, that’s his boss,' and this possessed me. Enjoy! 😉

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Guillermo blinked his eyes open, the ghost of Nandor’s cold, smooth lips still lingering on his own.

He had just kissed him. Right on the mouth, mid-sentence, on a random Tuesday night, three months after Guillermo became human again.

“I…Mas–Nan…”

The words died in his throat as his brain whirred like a computer with too many tabs open.

“I am your boss,” Nandor continued as if he had not heard him, beginning to pace the length of the Fancy Room. “You are my employee. It is frowned upon…problematic.”

That snapped Guillermo out of his stupor, frowning as he tried to make sense of his rambling.

“Okay, first of all, employees get paid. If anything, I was an unpaid labourer,” he held up his hand to stop himself from tracing his lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Second of all, you’re not my boss anymore anyway. I’m just your human roommate now, remember? I have a new job teaching self-defense down at the YMCA. I’m not your familiar. We’re equals. We made the deal that I would stay in this house once none of you treated me like shit anymore and you got a new familiar. You’re just too stubborn to let me help you pick a replacement.”

That stopped the vampire in his tracks, a petulant pout on his handsome face.

“That’s because they are all terrible, Guillermo! Francine didn’t know how I like my hair combed, and Jason did not do my buttons up correctly!”

“You didn’t give them a chance to learn!”

“You picked it up right away!”

“Well, not everyone can be me!”

“I know! That’s the problem!”

Somehow they had closed the distance between them and were right back where they started moments ago, mere inches from each other. Naturally, Guillermo’s eyes fell on those pale, alluring lips, but he dragged them back up to a safe spot, focussing on the crinkle between Nandor’s eyebrows from where his head was bent downwards.

“Third of all,” he forced out, his breath no doubt bouncing off his chin. “‘Problematic?’ Seriously? You brutally killed innocent people that I lured here every single week for the last thirteen years. And you’re worried about us having a…a ‘workplace kiss’ being problematic?”

Look. It wasn’t like it had never crossed his mind. Both kissing Nandor and the very morally bankrupt decision to feed random humans to a group of bloodthirsty vampires every week for his entire adult life. But ever since he was faced with directly killing an innocent person so he could live and being unable to do it, he was questioning himself and his choices more and more lately.

(The whole wanting to kiss his former Master thing was a constant, ongoing thing. And definitely not a recent development. But that was his business.)

“Well,” Nandor waved a hand, undeterred. “Darla said it is frowned upon.”

Guillermo squinted up at him.

“And who is Darla?”

“My spotter at the gym. She’s a grandma looking to strengthen her pelvic floor.”

“Ew, what—? No. Doesn’t matter,” he winced. “So, what would Darla think about you kissing someone ten seconds after they tell you they’re going on a date? Is that not ‘problematic?’”

Nandor scrunched up his nose.

“Well, it just happened, so how would I have time to tell—”

“Mierda,” he muttered under his breath, staring up at the ceiling for a God he couldn’t believe in anymore.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, Guillermo. I am sorry,” Nandor said in the ‘I’m trying to be diplomatic but am being a giant baby about it’ voice that he found hard to truly hate. “I just…thought that you had sworn off dating?”

A disbelieving laugh escaped his chest.

“So, what, you thought you’d kiss me in…protest?”

Something warm was fluttering around his abdomen as his heart beat what felt like a million times a second, his brain very unhelpfully replaying the kiss over and over in his head.

Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it, stop—

“I’m just confused,” Nandor was shrugging when he forced himself to focus. “You seemed uninterested in dating, and now you come in here and tell me not to wait up because you’re going out with some fucking gu—”

“And why is it you think I’d be uninterested in dating, Nandor? Would it be ‘cause the last boyfriend I had, you fucking cloned for yourself, and then sent him away so he could meet up with Freddie and have him cheat on me with himself?!”

The words echoed throughout the large room.

Nandor looked just like he did when he'd been slapped.

“Guiller—”

“No. Let’s talk about it,” he cut him off, shooting a glance at the nearest camera before glaring up at him. “I’m so sick, of never talking about things in this house. Just letting them revert back to the status quo. We’re a documentary, not a fucking sitcom,” he huffed, pointing a finger in his face, still standing so close he almost poked him.

“You turned your wife into my boyfriend, and that was really fucked up. You know, something actually ‘problematic.’”

He added extra sarcasm and generous bunny ears around the word, scorn and hurt rising within him from where it had laid dormant for over a year.

“You destroyed Marwa, and then my relationship, and you’ve never once taken responsibility for it. Or anything else you’ve ever done. So if you wanna talk about what’s ‘problematic,’ let’s start—”

“I changed her back.”

Guillermo froze.

“What?”

Nandor was busy staring at the red couch, murmuring so quietly that he almost didn’t hear him.

“I said I changed her back. I used my remaining wishes to…undo it all. Give her the life she deserves…without me. She’s in Washington now. Has gone back to school, last I heard.”

His heart skipped a beat as he digested that.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well,” Nandor scoffed, stepping even closer, gaze locked back on him. “I might have if you hadn’t been so busy conspiring with Laszlo because you went behind my back and got Derek to turn you INTO A VAMPIRE. DEREK! FUCKING GUY.”

Guillermo’s blood began to boil, spilling like molten lava in his veins.

“Because YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO!” he exploded. “After YEARS of putting up with all of your shit, I had enough of waiting!”

Nandor’s jaw clenched.

“I was going to turn you, even though I wasn’t sure if it was right for you, but you abandoned me for London!”

“Laszlo locked me in a coffin and shipped me to London like a giant FedEx package! I had literally zero control over that!” Guillermo shot back.

“Well,” Nandor cast his eyes around the room for an answer and grinned humorlessly when he found one. “You didn’t look for me.”

Oh, hell no.

“Yes, I did! But I had no way of contacting you,” Guillermo spat. “I had Nadja reach out through the ether and said she couldn’t find you, that you were blocking her somehow. So, yeah. It wasn’t like you were looking for me, either!”

His chest was heaving like an overwhelmed Victorian maiden whilst Nandor was as still as a statue, but he didn’t care.

Finally. Finally he was airing his grievances. After all this time. Years and years of pent-up anger and hurt and resentment, they were finally talking about it all. And God, it felt amaz—

“I was mad at you when you didn’t meet me on that platform…you broke my heart.”

Those words turned his molten blood to ice.

But that didn’t stop his own words from tumbling out of his mouth anyway.

“Yeah, well. You broke mine first.”

Their eyes met.

Silence engulfed the room.

“That’s a lot of information to get in thirty seconds.”

His head whirled around to find Colin Robinson staring at them from the doorway.

“This is a private conversation, Colin Robinson,” Nandor replied, his gaze still burning a hole into Guillermo. “Leave. Now.”

“Right. Private,” Colin retorted with his usual deadpan tone, gesturing to the cameras. “Whatever. Just fuck already. It’s faster. Especially the way Nandor does it.”

They listened to his retreating steps for a beat, Nandor cursing him under his breath.

“Did he quote Friends?” Guillermo gaped after him, realising it was in vain when he remembered who he was asking, though he could swear he saw one of the camera crew quietly nodding.

“Do not change the subject, Guillermo,” Nandor drew him back in, his dark gaze unwavering. “What did you mean when you said I broke your heart first?”

They don’t call him ‘The Relentless’ for nothin’.

“Come on,” he cleared his throat, his heart firmly lodged there as he tried to step around him. “We don’t have to do this. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does, and yes, we do,” his hand shot out inhumanly fast and held him in place by the wrist, firmly but not something he couldn’t break from. “You wanted to talk, so talk. Please.”

What were you saying about pent-up feelings, again?

“You,” he took a shaky breath, forcing himself to stand his ground. “You…have to know how I…how I’ve felt all these years. I know you’re not that dumb.”

Nandor’s lips parted, but Guillermo kept going, words flowing from him like a burst dam.

“Every cruel word, every dismissal, every time you rebuffed my hugs or compliments or belittled me or my accomplishments…it was death by a thousand cuts. Because I fuckin’ loved you anyway.”

A bitter laugh escaped him as tears stung his eyes.

“Huh. Now that’s problematic.”

The silence was deafening.

Nandor had yet to move an inch, not even to blink.

Well, you’ve done in now, de la Cruz. And even managed to reference a Taylor Swift song. Bravo.

Seconds ticked into nearly a minute, and Guillermo was really starting to get freaked ou—

“‘Loved…’” came a raspy voice, barely above a whisper. “...as in past tense?”

He stared at the hand that was still clasping his wrist, right over his hummingbird pulse point and thought, fuck it.

“Love. I love you, Nandor. I always have. And I meant it when I said I was gonna be right here by your side. Even…even if it’s just as your friend and roommate. Because that’s what love means.”

He had done a lot of brave things in his life. Had taken on and killed dozens of vampires, faced witches, zombies and werewolves without batting an eye, and had emo bangs way past 2012, but Guillermo de la Cruz had never felt true bravery until this exact moment.

He watched as Nandor’s face crumpled like creepy paper, his eyes squeezing shut as he took in a deep breath he didn’t need and mumbled to himself.

“Floating through the cold, dark universe like a little grain of furry sand.”

“...what?”

Those large, dark eyes that he loved so much popped open, and he almost gasped at their intensity.

“I…I once thought I was completely alone in this world, Guillermo. Without someone to love or love me. But I’m realising now that that hasn’t been true for a long time, has it?”

Guillermo swallowed the lump in his throat.

He shook his head.

Slowly, a small smile spread on Nandor’s face, his thumb brushing against the thin skin of his wrist.

“And it hasn’t for you either, you know.”

Guillermo felt his brow furrow.

“Wha—”

Cold, soft lips covered his for the second time that night. Heart hammering against his ribcage, he hurried to kiss back this time, leaning up on his tip-toes and gently trailing his tongue along Nandor’s bottom lip.

The kiss deepened as he opened his mouth, the corner of one of his fangs brushing against Guillermo’s tongue and sending a thrill through his entire body. They gripped each other, on the edge of frantic.

“That is why I kissed you, Guillermo,” Nandor murmured, leaning back to press his face into his jaw, peppering little pecks there. “I love you too. But I was too dumb to acknowledge it. Until I thought I was losing you again.”

Shock flowed through Guillermo at both confessions, gripping the back of his neck to pull him further down into him, arousal sparking in his gut as a large hand clutched his hip and pulled them flush together, covering his mouth with his carefully but passionately.

Over six feet of solid muscle draped over him like an awning, and he had never felt more in tune with his own body before, letting himself get lost in the sensation.

Dios mio.

After a few seconds, minutes, or several years, his heart squeezed on the bridge of pain, his head spinning a little, his lips growing numb.

Breaking for air, he gasped, reminding both Nandor and himself, “B-Breathe, I-I need to breathe.”

Smiling apologetically, Nandor’s giant hand cupped his cheek, gaze boring into him.

“I know I’m not your boss anymore, Guillermo. But I would still like it very much if…if you kept your post as my heartguard.”

Now he was breathless for a whole different reason.

Beaming, his eyes stinging again, he brought his hand up and linked their fingers.

“Okay. Only if you’re mine too, though.”

“Deal.”

Somewhere in the depths of the house, they heard Nadja let out a loud gag, followed quickly by, “Give it to him, good, Gizmo, and shut up already!”

Face on fire, he turned to him, leaning back in.

They still had a million and one things to talk about and work through. Obviously. Issues like theirs—problematic or otherwise—didn’t disappear with one, two, or even three admittedly fantastic kisses. But for now, their roommates had a point.

“Fucking vampires,” Guillermo chuckled.

“No,” Nandor replied with a sharp grin. “There’s just one vampire to fuck. Me."

Groaning at the dumb pun, Guillermo allowed himself to be kissed deeply and thoroughly, winding his hand into the silky, dark hair he adored and tugging.

It was as Nandor let out a quiet mewl (that he was definitely filing away for later) that he remembered the cameras. And the other people in the room. And his date.

“Wait, sorry,” he broke the kiss, his mouth already raw from beard burn and loving it before he turned to the crew.

“Can we have some privacy, guys? Please? And here, take my phone and text my date that I’m sorry I won’t make it, but he seems like a good guy, and I hope he meets someone else.”

He watched as the crewmember closest to him just barely caught his phone while the rest of the team just gaped at them, frozen in place, until a dark shadow cast over the room.

“He asked nicely,” Nandor said, his voice an octave lower than usual. “Do not make me ask not nicely.”

Not needing to be told twice, the crew scrambled to vacate the room, lugging their cameras and equipment behind them as Nandor reeled Guillermo back in, pushing him gently against the wall and cradling his head.

“Out, out!” he shooed over his shoulder, kissing along his jugular, his sharp fangs lightly scraping his skin and making him shiver. “We are a documentary, not a fucking porno!”

“No, save that for the honeymoon, old chap,” Laszlo’s muffled voice wafted from above. “And, if you need any pointers, let me know!”

#wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nandermo #wwdits fx #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #nandor x guillermo #my fanfiction

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episodeoftv · 7 months

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Round 5 of 8

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

The Good Place: 1.13 Michael’s Gambit

Shawn has decided that Fake Eleanor, Chidi, Jason, and Tahani must decide among themselves in thirty minutes which two of them should go to The Bad Place. Chaos and confusion ensues.

I’m a firm believer in spoilers not ruining a plot twist if the twist is good enough and this is the best proof I’ve seen of that. Yes, it was intended to be shocking, but it made perfect sense with everything we’d seen before. Every scene leading up to this episode had a double meaning, one you get the first time you watch if you haven’t been spoiled, and one you get every time you rewatch. Also the fact that this show was a network sitcom and yet it was plotty enough that you couldn’t just turn it on at any episode and get what was happening is so groundbreaking, and this episode turned it up to 11 by blowing up its entire premise.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael%27s_Gambit

What We Do in the Shadows: 5.03 Pride Parade

cw for nudity and sex (the sex scene is completely clothed, common for this show).

The vampires help Sean host a Pride parade; Nadja helps her doll achieve a long-held dream.

So much is happening. Nandor's having his little jealousy arc over Guillermo spending more time with Laszlo than with him. Meanwhile, Guillermo's transformation slowly and grotesquely continues. Laszlo makes suncream from Guillermo's sweat and literally gets to frolic in the sun for the first time in centuries! Also, they try to disprove some common vampire myths, like having to count grains of rice that fell on the floor (true) or their powers of flying. Nandor claims he can fly to outer space, and tries to prove it only to impress Guillermo. Meanwhile, Nadja (who broke the legs of the Doll Being Possessed By The Spirit Of Deceased Human Nadja offscreen between seasons) switches bodies with Spirit Of Deceased Human Nadja (yes, in this show a woman is possessed by the spirit of herself). We find out that Human Nadja died a virgin, so they enter her into a speed dating event. It turns out that Human Nadja is even worse at interacting with modern humans than Vampire Nadja is. Nandor then flies to space, equipped with a go-pro and a selfie stick. They then literally have Colin Robinson ALSO possess the body of Vampire Nadja, which ends in some sorta Harry Potter 1 (it's the best comparison ok) type creature with Nadja's face in the front and Colin Robinson's face in the back. Meanwhile, the underlying plot of this episode is that they are all actually helping their Human Neighbour Sean with organizing a pride parade (a ploy by him to increase his voting block with the LGBTQ+ community), and finally the parade begins. Nandor literally crashes it as he falls down from space, getting up buck naked and slightly charred, gloating to Guillermo about how he did it. Then the pride parade begins, and the highlight is clearly Guillermo (who came out as gay to his family last season), having his own little cart where he's just holding a sign that says "Gay Man". He's been scrutinizing this whole event from the second it was suggested, but in the end, he slowly starts to get into it, learning to enjoy himself. The episode ends with Laszlo fucking the body of his wife, which inhabits two different people, while his actual wife in her doll body sits on his shoulder. This is very much consensual by all parties involved.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pride_Parade_(What_We_Do_in_the_Shadows)

#the good place #tgp #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #poll #polls #round5

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chelsfic · 4 years

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Devotions - WWDITS Fanfic - Nandor x Guillermo

Sequel to: Maybe One Day, My Love

WWDITS Masterlist

A/N: Quick note to let you guys know that I have been writing up a storm, but I’ve posted many fics exclusively to AO3. It is just so much work to format every story for Tumblr. AO3 is such a superior place to read and write. So, check that out to see what you’ve missed. Thanks to @sinaesthete for beta reading this fic for me!

Summary: Following a death in the family, Guillermo goes to the park for his weekly "visit" with his ex-master. After two decades of distance and one-sided conversation, Nandor finally steps out of the shadows.

Warnings: Smut, Religious References, Parent Death

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“You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.” -Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

It’s nightfall once again.

Guillermo de la Cruz clutches a prayer card in his fist as he strides down the familiar path for the appointment he never misses. Not even tonight.

Puddles dot the paved lane; he carefully avoids them, not wishing to ruin his patent leather shoes. He’s still dressed in the clothes he wore to the funeral: a dark suit and tie that make him look somehow older and younger at the same time. Like a little boy dressed up in his father’s clothes. His rigid soles scuff against the cement. The scraping sound grounds him in time and place, pulling him back from the vision of the gleaming white casket heaped with flowers.

It’s early spring. The night is still chilly, but the park has begun to transform with the new season. Green shoots of grass peek out between moldy fallen leaves. Crocuses emerge in the flower beds that line the walk. The branches hanging overhead are heavy with verdant leaves whispering in the light breeze. Guillermo breathes in the damp, mildewy scent of new growth. Idly, he wonders if the funeral arrangements have started to wilt.

He rounds the well-known turn in the path, finally arriving at his forgotten little alcove with its dilapidated bench. The wooden slats of the seat give way to his weight as he sits; the wood is soft and worn. He recalls the hard, polished church pews and decides that this is a much more suitable place for worship. The laminated prayer card bites into the tender flesh of his palm and he releases it, taking his hands from his pockets and letting them rest on the well-loved bench.

Night sounds fill his ears: crickets murmuring in the grass, distant traffic rushing on the highway, gentle wind blowing through the trees. No matter how carefully he listens, holding his breath and keeping perfectly still, Guillermo will never hear his master’s approach until Nandor wishes it. Instead he begins his vigil, communing with the night, with this place, the setting for his devotions.

“Let us pray...

I am the resurrection and the life, says the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever live and believe in me shall never die.”

The priest’s words float back to him as if conjured by the night wind. Guillermo’s thoughts fix upon his lord. The one he’s worshiped since he was nineteen-years-old. He calls up Nandor’s image with ease, despite the years that have passed since actually seeing the vampire. Dark eyes ringed in fire, bottomless pits into which Guillermo has been falling for the last thirty-seven years. A body as cold and lethal as a winter’s night. Fangs that reap bloody sacrifices from his victims. Guillermo closes his eyes and Nandor is there before him--skin warm in the candlelight, lips relaxed in a rare smile, holding out his hand and beckoning Guillermo to come forward. In his vision, Nandor places his palm on the crest of Guillermo’s head in a blessing.

“Blessed are those who mourn,

For they will be comforted.”

The snap of a twig announces him. Guillermo eyes snap open; he stares straight ahead into the trees on the other side of the nook. He senses Nandor in the darkness behind him, a guardian or a devil. Both. But he doesn’t turn to look, though every fiber of his being is attuned to his master’s cold presence; though he longs to lunge at him and hold him and never let him leave this place. That is not their arrangement.

Just this once, though, he wishes it could be different.

Guillermo tries to speak; tries to perform their ritual as usual. But the words stick in his throat, congealing into a heavy lump that suffocates him. A shaky breath passes through his parted lips and becomes a sob. Suddenly there are tears spilling down his cheeks. He reaches into his pocket, removes the prayer card with Silvia de la Cruz’s beautiful portrait on it, and sets it on the seat beside him.

“She… died,” he explains in a shattered whisper, scrubbing furiously at his eyes with his fists. “Mi mam á . She’s gone, Nandor.”

For an instant the rest of the words stick in his throat: Guillermo’s not supposed to address him directly. That’s not part of their ritual. Now Nandor will leave; now he’ll never come back. But the grief soon scours away the fear of breaking their rules and Guillermo collapses down to his elbows, hanging his head and sobbing out his heartache and pain.

“It happened so s-suddenly, Nandor. I didn’t get to say good-bye or tell her I’m sorry.”

Guillermo crosses his arms over his chest, hugging and rocking himself in a pitiful attempt to self-soothe. His sinuses are blocked; his face is flushed; his mouth tastes like bile and communion wafers and his t í a’s buñuelos. He’s desperate to get a hold himself, to salvage this evening somehow, but every time he nearly has the crying controlled his mind supplies him with a new torture. The stricken look on his amá’s face when he left home to work for Nandor. The smell of eggs and fresh tortillas in the morning. The sound of her clambering in the kitchen, cursing under breath. Her smile. Her hugs. The way she took him in, without questions, when he came back home covered in blood and hysterical after a decade of being a bad son.

Guillermo is so lost in memories, he almost misses the soft, hesitant touch on his shoulder. A hand--solid, strong, cold--closes around his shoulder and squeezes gently. Their first touch in twenty-six years. Guillermo’s breath stutters from his lungs. He freezes, terrified of breaking the fragile sanctity of this moment. He wavers on the threshold of action. Before he can summon the courage to cross it himself , Nandor does so for him. The vampire’s hands are suddenly clutching, pawing at his shoulders and chest; clawed fingers dig into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket and haul him over the bench. He’s dragged through the spider-riddled bush and then all at once he’s in his master’s embrace. As if it hasn’t been decades since the last and first time they held each other. As if a whole lifetime of experience--sadness, joy, yearning, hope--hasn’t slipped through Guillermo’s mortal fingers.

Nandor wraps Guillermo up in his cape, the rich fabric and gold embroidery are clean and well-maintained. Guillermo finds himself wondering if Nandor has himself a new familiar, quickly deciding he doesn’t want to know. He buries his face in Nandor’s strong, broad chest and breathes him in. He smells like rose water, argan oil, and Tide To-Go Pens. He smells like warm candle wax and brassy, spilled blood. He smells like dust and animal pelts and frozen decay. He smells like home.

“And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.”

Guillermo never really left him, did he? Two decades spent building a human life, and with one simple embrace he is back on Staten Island, a nineteen-year-old boy knocking on a pagan god’s front door and offering himself in sacrifice.

“Nandor,” he cries. It’s a plea, a demand, a tribute, a prayer. Once the name falls from his lips he can’t stop. “Nandor. Nandor. Nandor. Nandor. Nandor. Nan--”

The vampire shushes him, bringing his hand up to cradle Guillermo’s head against his chest. That voice, rich and deep, rumbles through the fabric of the leather vest and into Guillermo’s tear-streaked cheek. “I am sorry, my Guillermo. Your mama… she was a good lady. She took care of you, kept you safe and happy after…” he trails off, clearing his throat uncomfortably. His arms tighten around Guillermo. “I am so very sorry.”

Guillermo clings to him, hands fisting in the cape, tugging at the material until Nandor is forced to stoop down. Guillermo closes his eyes, terrified of opening them to find that this is all a dream. Some kind of religious vision that will dissipate in a cloud of smoke if he breaks the spell. Nandor’s face is so close, he can feel the vampire’s cool breath on his cheeks. Guillermo presses forward, nuzzling his face into the whiskers of Nandor’s beard, gasping at the soft caress of long hair against his face.

“Is this real?” Guillermo whispers; his words are fragile, like moth’s wings fluttering through the air between them. “Master, is it really you?”

“Who else would it be, Guillermo?” Nandor chides in the same old amused tone that Guillermo has preserved in his heart like dried flower petals between the pages of the family bible. “Who else but me? It’s always me, Guillermo.”

Thumbs wipe away the salty, stinging tears from Guillermo’s cheeks and the human huffs out a sound that’s a laugh, a sob and a cry of joy all at once.

“It’s always you, master,” he agrees and seconds later he feels the cool, miraculous brush of Nandor’s lips on his.

“Almighty God, cleanse my heart and my lips that I may worthily proclaim your Gospel.”

Guillermo’s eyes fly open. Dark hair and pale, luminous skin fill his vision. Arms--powerful, undeniable--wrap around his soft little human form. He melts into Nandor, all the strength in his limbs bleeding away until the vampire’s strong grip is the only thing keeping him from falling to his knees. He’s resplendent, overjoyed to give himself up to the predatory angel before him.

The grief--a hollow, aching hole in his chest--is still there. But with it is a new sensation, at once well-known and utterly novel: ecstasy, fulfillment, completion. To be united with Nandor finally, after decades of pining, feels unreal and yet meant to be. It’s everything he’s dreamed of and denied dreaming of for so long.

Nandor’s lips slide against his own, cool to the touch yet soft and welcoming. Nothing like the hard and forbidding marble he’d always imagined. Nandor’s mouth is pliant and giving; it’s not unlike kissing a mortal man… as if Nandor isn’t the untouchable celestial being of his dark dreams, but flesh and--yes--blood. Guillermo flicks out his tongue and traces his master’s full, pouting lower lip. Nandor opens his mouth at once, granting him the entry he seeks. How can this be happening? After a lifetime of longing and supplication?

“Guillermo,” Nandor says his name like a plea, his lips brushing, the syllables melting into their kiss. “My Guillermo. You’re mine, still, aren’t you? Will you be mine?”

Guillermo mouth molds to his master’s. Nandor’s beard drags against the soft skin of his chin and cheeks. He pulls himself away long enough to answer. “Yes, Nandor. I’m still yours. If you’ll still be mine. Oh, God , please tell me you’re mine, Nandor!”

God. For the first time in eight centuries, Nandor feels no pain at the holy word. Instead it dribbles from Guillermo’s lips, melting into their kiss and tasting like sweet honey. Yes, he thinks, finally allowing his hands to roam down his human supplicant’s body. Yes, I am your god, little mortal. And you are mine.

The words spark in the night air, a spell that will keep them safe so long as they don’t stop touching. “I’m yours, Guillermo. Forever.”

They tumble to the earth, a tangle of grasping limbs, rolling hips and desperate, longing kisses. Nandor breaks their fall, landing in the dewy grass with a soft grunt and clutching Guillermo to his chest with reverent care. Guillermo is alight with sensation. Prayers fall from his lips, holy words that once would have sent his master hissing and flinching, but which now seem to feed him.

“Nandor, my god!” He pulses his pelvis with every repetition of the name. “God, I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Love . A word that should bring Nandor as much pain as the other and yet… Guillermo’s heartache, his abandon, his devotion have unlocked something inside of him. He lets himself free. His hands clench Guillermo’s backside and squeeze; he grinds their pelvises together in fervent desperation. Guillermo settles heavily on his chest, sinking his fingers into the vampire’s soft hair and raining kisses on his face.

“You will give yourself to me, won’t you?” Nandor whispers, an edge of uncertainty in his voice. “Finally?”

The weight of ecstasy and sorrow on Guillermo’s soul leaves no room for the exasperation that he should rightfully feel at those words. As if Guillermo has not given himself to Nandor every day for his entire adult life. As if he wouldn’t have gladly killed to be in this position decades before. But here, in this holy place, in the communion of their bodies and souls, Guillermo doesn’t scoff. He presses a gentle, wet, lingering kiss to Nandor’s lips before answering.

“You already have me, Master.”

“ Take this... and eat of it, for this is my Body, which will be given up for you.”

They lay Nandor’s cape out on the grass like a blanket. It’s almost completely dark in the shadowy undergrowth, but Guillermo still blushes as he shrugs off his suit coat and begins unbuttoning his shirt, aware of the vampire’s heightened senses. The darkness presses up against Guillermo’s eyeballs; he strains to see merely the faintest outline of Nandor’s powerful frame. His face is a dark blur except for his eyes. Nandor’s predator eyes drink in every bit of ambient light and reflect it back at Guillermo. They glow. Hallowed, fiery rings in the night.

Guillermo is no longer a virgin. He feels a small, pitiful pang at the knowledge that he can’t give Nandor that part of himself. He’s slept with a few men over the years. But he’s never truly offered himself to any of them like he’s doing now. Guillermo takes off his shirt, his undershirt. He toes off his shoes and socks and undoes his belt. It’s cold and the cape is starting to absorb the dew and chill from the solid earth beneath, but he doesn’t shiver as he removes his pants and underwear. He lays on his back, nude, flushed, panting and achingly hard. He doesn’t feel the icy wind that raises goosebumps on his arms and hardens the pink tips of his nipples to little nubs. He is a sacrifice; an offering; a tribute. The cold can’t touch him now. Not with the fire of his lord’s eyes keeping him warm.

Nandor’s hands paint ribbons of freezing flame on his skin. They brush lightly, teasingly across his belly, his chest, his thighs. The vampire drapes himself over Guillermo and the human realizes that he’s also undressed. They both gasp as their rigid, leaking erections bump against each other. Guillermo bucks his hips in uncontrolled desire and he feels Nandor sink his fingers into the ample flesh of his thighs to hold him still. A huff of breathy amusement falls from the vampire’s lips. He grabs Guillermo up in another passionate kiss, nipping and licking his lips. A keening, vulnerable moan bubbles up from the vampire’s throat. He clutches Guillermo’s tender body against his cold,, cadaverous frame. Tears--frigid and laced with blood-- fall down his cheeks and mingle with Guillermo’s.

“Guillermo!” Nandor gasps, pulling back. His hands trace patterns on the pulsing hot skin of Guillermo’s neck. The human waits and listens to his master’s labored breathing. A plea hangs in the air between them. “Will you give me this as well, Guillermo? Your blood?”

“With faith in your love and mercy I eat your Body and drink your Blood.”

For the first time, Guillermo wonders if Nandor comes here every week with the intention of offering worship just as he does.

“Take it, Nandor,” he commands. His voice is strong, unwavering, loud in the solitude of their secluded grove. He reaches up blindly and takes Nandor’s face between his hands, guiding him down to the cradle of his neck until the vampire’s cool lips press against his skin. “Drink.”

Nandor whispers something against Guillermo’s neck before biting down. The words are an unintelligible susurrous. He recognizes them as Al Quolanudarese. And though he’s incapable of parsing them, they feel like secret magic words. Words that finally pulverize the last brick in the wall between them. Guillermo knows their meaning in his bones, in his heart, in his soul.

Nandor’s fangs pierce and bruise. His bite is brutal and honest. This is Nandor; no hiding, no subterfuge. He is violence and blood and frozen kisses. He is also the tender stroking of fingers along Guillermo’s tear-stained cheeks and the broken sob he makes an instant before the blood begins to flow. Guillermo’s eyes flutter shut and he fists his hands in the cape beneath him. Take me, take me, take me , he begs.

Blood and body.

He buries his hands in Nandor’s hair, cupping the crown of his head as nonsense prayers fall from his lips. He invokes every sacred symbol he knows. Nandor’s mouth; his tongue; his hands; his cock. The bedroom under the stairs. The candlelit crypt. The parking lot at the immigration office. The blood-stained robe from Celeste’s orgy. The ancestry reports. Wooden stakes and crucifixes. The claw-foot bathtub. Nandor’s hair oils. His coffin. Bubble gum and mason jars and flashcards and feather dusters and boot polish and ice chips and a portrait made from glitter: two men, impossibly hopeful, naive and in love.

When Nandor finally retracts his fangs from Guillermo’s neck, he laps at the spilled blood, kissing the soft, torn skin with a grateful, remorseful, worshipful reverence.

“My Guillermo,” he cries over and over again, rocking his hips subconsciously and panting as their cocks slide against one another. When he draws up on his elbows Guillermo can see his blood marring those perfectly cruel lips and staining his full beard. His voice is thick with tears. “Your blood, Guillermo. It’s…”

Guillermo nods, wiping Nandor’s cheeks even as his own tears fall into his hairline. “I know, Nandor. You’re mine now. Always.”

The vampire bows his head, pressing his lips to Guillermo’s soft chest directly over his rapidly beating heart. “Your blood is rushing, Guillermo. So eager to give me your life.”

Guillermo sighs, running his hands down the length of Nandor’s sides, squeezing his soft flanks and raising his hips to grind against him.

“And what are you eager to give me, Nandor?”

Nandor brings his hand up to Guillermo’s neck and catches the blood that still flows there. He hovers over Guillermo, balancing on one elbow as he moves his other hand between them and slides his wet, bloody fingers into the cleft of Guillermo’s backside. Guillermo feels the slick of his lifeblood against his sensitive skin as Nandor’s fingers probe and press into his entrance. A shiver wracks his frame at the utter indecency, the absolute sacrilege.

“Fuck,” Guillermo hisses as the first finger breaches the tight ring of muscle and enters him. “God! Nandor, yes.”

Nandor whimpers in gratitude at his human’s praise. He speaks absently, in the grips of religious ecstasy, “Let me show you, Guillermo. Please, let me show you.”

Guillermo writhes and nods his head, arching his back as another finger joins the first. “Show me you love me, Nandor. Show me you fucking worship me.”

A strangled growl fills the little grove and Nandor picks up the pace of his thrusting fingers, subtly rocking his erection against the tender skin of Guillermo’s thigh as he goes. His breath mingles with Guillermo’s as he leans in and presses their lips together in a slow, aching kiss. He inserts a third finger, stretching Guillermo out and swallowing the man’s groan.

“Now, Nandor,” an echo of desperation and sorrow tinges his voice. Nandor scrambles to comply. He removes his fingers, kneeling between Guillermo’s spread legs and placing shaking hands on the insides of his generous thighs, steadying himself.

Nandor doesn’t speak, but the sound of his breathing might as well be a love letter. He’s panting, there’s a hitch in his breath, a tremor in his fingers. Guillermo feels the tip of him against his hole and he nearly sobs with relief and joy and loss and guilt and exasperation. Why now? After all these years? Why on the night of his mother’s funeral when he is ragged and raw? Why couldn’t they have had this when Guillermo was still young and so pitifully in love with Nandor that he was willing to tarnish his soul for the vampire’s convenience? He thinks these things with regret, with melancholy longing and wistfulness; but never with anger.

This is his Nandor and Guillermo will take him and cherish him until he is buried in the ground. Nandor presses forward, entering him inch by inch. Stars burst in Guillermo’s eyes and amidst the furious physical sensations, a feverish thought flits through his head. When Guillermo is dead he wants to be buried in this very spot, in the soil beneath their naked bodies, on the site of their long-delayed consummation. The idea should repulse him, or sadden him, but instead it just feels right. He pictures Nandor visiting his grave every Sunday for the rest of the time and cants his hips, taking the vampire deeper as the blood trickles from his neck and his cock smears precum onto his belly.

Their bodies move together in a rhythm that’s both familiar and wonderfully new. They cling, claw, grab and stroke. Nandor’s length fills Guillermo; the vampire’s fingers wrap around Guillermo’s rigid cock and pump him as he thrusts. The words that fall from their lips are a heady, nonsensical, sacred blend of Spanish, Al Quolanudarese and English. Love is only the beginning. This is yearning, devotion, allegiance, becoming, undoing, transforming. Nandor is god is Guillermo is Nandor. They are whole for the first time in their lives.

The climax takes them both at the same time. Guillermo sobs, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as Nandor roars above him. Nandor spills his plentiful vampiric seed inside of him as Guillermo’s cum shoots out in hot ropes that paint his and Nandor’s bellies. He lets his softening cock fall from Guillermo’s body as he collapses down, pillowing his head on Guillermo’s chest and gasping for air that he doesn’t need. Guillermo cards his fingers through his hair and weeps.

He’s crying for the boy he once was. The one who loved his amá and wanted to make her proud. The boy who fell in love with a demon. The boy who dreamed and hoped and prayed and was disappointed. He’s crying for Nandor, too, who has lived for centuries without ever allowing himself to acknowledge the soft animal of his own emotions. And he’s crying for his amá, whose heart he broke for a decade and who never, ever stopped believing in him even when he came home at the age of 30, jobless, soulless, and ruined.

Nandor nuzzles his cheek against Guillermo’s sparsely-haired chest, pressing kisses into his sweat-slick skin and tracing patterns over his stomach with long, elegant fingers.

“I can hear your heartbeat, Guillermo,” he whispers. “Did you know I could always hear your heartbeat? It’s not usual. I mean, yes, of course vampires have super hearing, but we learn to tune all that out, you know? But never with you, my Guillermo. I listened to every beat of your little heart for eleven years. I was so afraid one day it would stop…”

In the soft, sacred dark Guillermo can finally ask the question, “Then why didn’t you ever turn me? You could’ve had me forever, immortal. Why, Nandor?”

Nandor sits up and his eyes glow as he looks down at Guillermo, a frown in his voice, “I didn’t want it to stop, Guillermo. I didn’t want to be the one to...make it stop.”

Guillermo shuts his eyes and they are quiet for a long, long time. He holds Nandor in his arms. The chill of the night air finally affects him and he shivers once. Nandor grabs the edge of the cape and pulls it over Guillermo to shield him. They lay beside each other, touching, breathing, listening. Guillermo traces the outline of Nandor’s lips, letting his finger dip inside his mouth and feeling the sharp edge of his fangs. Nandor allows it. Of course he does. He could not deny Guillermo anything. Not in this place. Not anywhere else, either. The knowledge settles in his veins, flows through him like Guillermo’s blood.

“Guillermo,” Nandor begins, drawing out the last syllable like he used to. “It is not too late…”

It’s a statement and a question. Guillermo holds his breath, waiting for the vampire to elaborate, but Nandor remains silent. A moment later he feels Nandor’s cold skin pressed to his lips. There’s warmth there, too, borrowed from his body. He tastes blood as Nandor presses his wrist firmly to Guillermo’s mouth.

“It’s not too late,” he repeats.

“May this mingling of the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, bring eternal life to us who receive it.”

#wwdits fanfic #nandor x guillermo #nandermo #guillermo x nandor #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #smut #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fanfic

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lendmyboyfriendahand · 5 years

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Amrodnor

Amrod was on the ships, but when he saw Feanor approaching with a torch, he jumped.

He swam to shore. He figured is his family was going to kill him, he might as well leave - the plan had been to go back to his mother, but that was no longer possible.

He ran into a group of Nandor, and joined their community.

His old names didn't fit – he’s no longer the smallest Finwe, having rejected his house. He keeps half his name, and instead of Doomed or Upwards-Exalted, he becomes Exalted-by-Fire; the burning of the ships was what gave him the strength to turn from an evil path.

It takes him a bit to decide on this, dramatic Finwean he is, and in the meantime the Nandor called him Bright Eyes, for the Treelight reflected in his gaze. He says this is a more appropriate name for a horse than a person, and they compromise on calling him Star Bright

So Amrod hangs out is southwest Beleriand, avoiding Sindar and Orcs and Noldor and Men alike for over four hundred years.

The Bragollach, the Nirnaeth; Beleriand isn't safe.

The Nandor decide to go east across the mountains. Amrod decides to see how the Noldor are doing - despite himself, he hopes his brothers are okay. He finds Nargothrond.

He says he is Rodnor Gil-Galad, called in his youth after his hair.

Orodreth doesn't recognize him - Orodreth is young, born after the division between their families was already stark. Orodreth rarely saw Amrod in Tirion, and everyone saying he looks just like Amras means the brown hair throws him.

Celebrimbor does recognize him.

"What are you doing here?" "I'm trying to avoid our family!" "I thought you were dead!" "Don't you dare tell anyone you met me!" - excerpts from the whispered confrontation in Celebrimbor's workroom

Eventually they agree that yes, Feanorians are terrible and blindly loyal, and they're both glad to be out of it.

They spend time together, a bit, more as escapees from the same cult than out of a desire to reminisce about Tirion.

Celebrimbor accidentally mentions Fingon as if they both know him in public. People ask how Gil-Galad knew him. He fumbles and says they're related. Later he slips and says Celegorm “turned out to be the family disappointment after all.” That makes him pretty obviously Finwean, though he still doesn’t admit who.

Someone tries to draw him out, and spends a whole conversation deliberately referring to Maglor Feanorian, Fingon Fingolfinion, and Finrod Finarfinion.

Rodnor eventually says, “By that manner I suppose I’m Gil-Galad Erenion.” This shuts up the first guy for a moment, but people start speculating how he can be the descendant of multiple kings – did Thingol have any other kids?

Turin arrives; Rodnor has no opinion of him or of men in general, and no official seat on Orodreth’s council. When the dragon kills Orodreth and kidnaps Findulias, Rodnor leads the survivors away to the south. He feels bad about abandoning them, but the number of soldiers they ‘d lose rescuing her is too high, and just because a life is royal (or family) doesn’t mean it’s more valuable. (Feanor burned a prince, his son, as easily as he killed fishermen.)

His opinion on royalty isn’t widely held though. The people of Nargothrond have decided he is Orodreth’s heir and started calling him Lord Erenion. He declares that Cirdan is lord of the Falas, which gets people to at least decide bring some of their issues elsewhere, and tries not to stress about the details.

So Rodnor is in charge of the Noldor in Sirion. Galadriel is in Doriath. They do meet when it falls, but only for a few hours as the Iathrim refugees settle in, and she speaks more with Cirdan than with him. He tells her of the Nandor tribe he was with and their plans for the journey, and off she goes to the East.

After the council is over and every newcomer has a bed, Rodnor goes to Celebrimbor. They mourn privately those who neither of them dare speak of publically. Rodnor is back in his own rooms long before morning. He spends the next few weeks solemn, but everyone is gloomy after news of another kinslaying.

Gondolin falls. There are suddenly a lot more Noldor in Sirion. Pretty soon they're calling him King. He considers telling them it's not true, that the succession hasn't come to him yet.

On the other hand, having a leader be whoever happens to be the son of the previous leader is kind of silly. The Sindar tribe he was with acknowledged Elwe, but not Dior. Your leader was whoever you trusted to do right by the community. When Denethor died, his son took interim authority, and then they all met and discussed it and decided that actually Enellas knew how to manage people better, and so Denethor’s son stepped down.

If Rodnor squints, this is the same. At the very least, if the Nargothrondrim hated him one of them would have proposed crowning the ten-year-old Eärendil instead. So King Gil-Galad takes up the throne.

He was on Balar when the attack came. He told himself later he couldn't have stopped it, couldn't have helped. He could guess by how much more enchantingly beautiful the Silmaril around Elwing's neck seemed, that his brothers would attack soon, but not the month or day. And she was a queen, he could not order her to hand over the jewel. So all he did was warn her, not tell her his birth name, or leap across the council table and pull it off her throat. He could not have known there was no time to wait for Eärendil’s return. He had not set a watch on the island towards the city, but he had no reason to.

He did not want to kill his brothers, but he was a king and he could not let that make his decisions.

He can't stop himself from crying when he sees Amras's body. The Feanorians had tried to make a pyre, but must have left with it still burning and the wet sea wind had extinguished it, and the wood had barely caught.

"Relight the pyres."

"Your Majesty?"

"For the dead Feanorians, relight them."

"But they're murderers! They showed no such respect to us." Indeed, the city is still littered with the corpses of Noldor, Men, and Sindar alike.

"And we are better than they are. We will bury our dead, with a week of singing and lamenting, and tales of their deeds told by friends and kin. We will mark our people’s graves, and the Men will leave grave goods on theirs. And we will not leave the enemy dead to rot where they lie or be eaten by beasts, though they showed us not that respect." He sighed. "We have not fallen as they have, and we must hold onto that."

"Yes, your majesty"

"Have someone take a census of those who are left. And lists of the dead – ours and theirs." He needs to know how strong the rogue army was. If it is now leaderless, he would... he isn't sure. He wouldn’t have to declare a feast for victory over the Kinslayers, they'd lost enough of their own. But some kind of amnesty, with reparations, if any Feanorian soldiers wanted to rejoin... He thinks of the abstract plans now, while he is unsure, because he knows he'll barely be able to keep together if Maedhros and Maglor are dead and he is alone. (Three died last time.)

His eldest brothers are not among the dead invaders.

Lady Elwing and her sons are not found, either dead or living. Gil-Galad knows that his brothers would have no interest in taking her prisoner, for if she was under their power they could rip their glorious, wonderful jewel from her neck and cast her aside like so much wrapping. So he assumes that instead Elwing got away somehow, taking her sons with her. Whether the Feanorians have the jewel or she does is unimportant, he reminds himself, at least unless she returns. He decides then that Balar will never house the Silmaril – he'll bury it beneath the mountains with his own two hands if that's what it takes. His people deserve one place, just one, that isn't destroyed around them. Please Valar, grant them this, for Cirdan's sake if for none of the Noldor.

Ships come one day out of the West. King Finarfin leads them, and Eärendil is with them. Eärendil says that his wife Elwing escaped, but not the boys. (Eärendil is politely told he must either take off the necklace, stay on his ship, or go to the mainland.)

Gil-Galad realizes where they must be. It's hardly fair, but he knows at least they're being treated as well as can be. Maedhros and Maglor did alright by the five of them, and have never been cruel to children.

No one else seems so optimistic, though they are willing to believe that the boys are alive, even after seven years, simply to avoid believing the alternative. Gil-Galad and Finarfin cooperate to get a letter and a messenger (a newly arrived Noldo) that will be demanding but – hopefully – not provoke violence.

It takes two years more, with messengers from both parties expressing grave concern for the boys’ safety on a journey and reluctant to meet the other too close, but Elros and Elrond are returned. They meet Eärendil again, but he is on the front lines and so they spend most of their time in the camp. Gil-Galad has them sit in on strategy meetings to keep them occupied.

The war is over, Morgoth is defeated, and the Noldor are allowed to return.

Gil-Galad finds he doesn’t want to.

Returning had been as much about getting out of Feanor’s shadow as finding safety, and he realizes he has done the first and the second is near at hand. If he goes back to Tirion, he will be again Pityafinwe, one of Feanor’s youngest sons, half of the twins with a missing twin. The child so redundant his own mother had known so, and asked Feanor to leave her one of the youngest without care for which. Pityafinwe had led no armies, fought no battles, earned no praise. Pityafinwe killed Teleri and was murdered by his father, and did nothing else.

Sure, he could try to be both, admit he was Pityafinwe to start with, but no one will understand. The will see him as the usurper of the crown that should have gone to – Eärendil perhaps? and then Elros? or Galadriel? Maybe they’ll weigh his victories in battle against his theft of the crown, and say they make up for it, but maybe they’ll say anyone could have done them, or he should have done them as a general in the real King’s army. So he’d be Pityafinwe, who pretended to be a king for a bit but understands now that it’s not his place, and that his place is to be the sixth-born son of the (dead, disgraced) Crown Prince.

Besides, they’re making the ‘leaders’ apologize for leaving, and Gil-Galad spent enough years wandering Beleriand safe behind Noldorin fortresses he can’t really be sorry they came.

Gil-Galad does write a letter though, to the Lady Nerdanel, his mother. He tells people that it’s commendations for her grandson’s valor, and assurance that Celebrimbor will be regarded on his own merits in the Age to come. The letter does contain those, but it also contains “You were half right about my mother-name; I was fated to die but leapt out of Fate’s way.” It’s rather blasphemous, but Gil-Galad isn’t going to be setting foot near the Valar again.

ao3

#silmarillion #amrod #Gil Galad #The Silmarillion #silm #My fic #gil galad son of plot hole #amrodnor

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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What We Do in the Shadows Season 3 Episode 6 Review: The Escape

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This What We Do in the Shadows review contains spoilers.

What We Do in the Shadows Season 3 Episode 6

When the vampires of Staten Island first took their orientation through the offices of the Vampiric Council, they were warned about the room which enclosed the Sire. The first of all vampires, the one whom all vampires are descended from, and whose demise (probably) means the death of them all. You’d think they might do better than stick him in a stone cell in gratitude. But the vampires on What We Do in the Shadows never plan ahead. In season 3, episode 6, they deal with “The Escape “

One of the gifts the vampires of What We Do in the Shadows has is the power to shirk responsibility. Nandor (Kayvan Novak) honed this skill, we learn during the episode, while still a mortal military head of state. Whenever something went wrong on one of his battlefields, he would blame another country and declare war. Nadja (Natasia Demetriou) passes off her avoidance of responsibility as mere forgetfulness. Yes, she knows she was supposed to remind Nandor to feed the Sire, she even wrote a sticky note. But blame? Fault? These are words which get too easily lost in translation.

The Sire’s proper name, written on an ancient scroll as Goéjlrm, takes on a life of its own. Nandor practices pronunciations before facing the undead press, Nadja struggles through its mangling whenever forced. The situation is presented very well as dire, the stakes, always a dangerous topic for immortal bloodsuckers, are higher than any presented by the series before. The very possibility of total vampire extinction. “We’ve had a good run,” Nandor assures the press, who are desperate for solutions from an underwhelmed ruling body.

Guillermo (Harvey Guillén) takes control in the most passive aggressive way. Since his promotion from familiar to bodyguard, it seems Guillermo is only doing twice the work for half the pay. Tonight, when faced with the possibility that Colin Robinson (Mark Proksch) doesn’t know where on earth he might find water, glasses and ice, no less, Guillermo turns the screws.

There isn’t a dust-buster yet made which can contain the floating vampire Dark Shade (Kristen Schaal) in this episode. She is all over the place, like a dark cloud at a picnic, guiding ants to the entrée. Tonight, her best moment is introducing Nadja and the audience to The Watchers, who have been silently peering over Manhattan from atop their perch on an old gothic building. These gargoyles have always been there, at least since the building went up. It is interesting how we never see the cameramen and the Watchers at the same time. Yet, they too, are waiting, and watching.

But not gossiping. Apparently immortal beings tasked with being vigilant viewfinders become eternal busybodies. Maybe it’s because they are carved in stone and don’t really get out much. “Quid quo pro, Clarice,” the goyles say as the vampires leave them without any naughty nuggets. It’s also very ambiguously amusing how they treat the vampires when they leave. They talk behind their back with a begrudging respect for the very attitude they are trash talking.

Colin Robinson finally finds a new vein of energy to suck tonight, which has double the impact. He’s been running on empty much of the season, as his energy vampire antics hit their peak when power went to his head in season 2. As the vampires head to Ozone Park, Queens, to hunt the roguish, escaped Sire, Colin’s eyes are positively aglow, and without any need for special effects. Earlier in the evening, he posted to a neighborhood website, asking if anyone noticed anything at all suspicious, and it explodes “into an orgy of racism.”

There is a returning character tonight, who is better left uncovered. Baron Afanas spent the last two years buried alive in the backyard of the vampires’ Staten Island home. Not knowing which way he was tossed into the makeshift grave, he’s been digging sideways the whole time, unsure which way is up. The Baron is an ancient vampire, probably the most ancient after the Sire, which proves vampires do not gain intelligence, nor really retain knowledge, in the long years of their everlasting afterlife. His best bit comes when he thinks he is controlling a vehicle he rides on with his mind. It’s actually being guided by a hand-held control stick Dark Shade is playing with. The fun of the scene is how much glee is packed into four little wheels.

The Sire is actually quite a frightening-looking creature, and the scene where Nadja and Laszlo (Matt Berry) track it in the store builds quite a bit of suspense, with or without a magic flute. The horror of it all lingers well into the punch line. Laszlo looks suitably throttled, luckily by plastic bins, and Nadja is truly both terrified and mortified. In a very short moment, she goes from cajoling and indulging to cringing and crying, only to have it land on the silliest of gags. At least it’s quickly a running gag.

The episode ends on a deliciously upbeat note in the wilds of Nutley, New Jersey, where devil dogs roam free, and dinner is as easy as an ad for an Airbnb. Written by Jake Bender and Zach Dunn, and directed by Yana Gorskaya, “The Escape” is a slight departure for What We Do in the Shadows. The vampires have never been this openly vulnerable, and it is scary how much more comic this makes them.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

What We Do in the Shadows‘ “The Escape” aired Sept. 30 at 10:00 p.m. on FX.

The post What We Do in the Shadows Season 3 Episode 6 Review: The Escape appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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episodeoftv · 8 months

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Round 1 of 8, Group 4 of 8

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia: 13.10 Mac Finds His Pride

Frank tries to recruit Mac for the gang's float for the Gay Pride Parade; Frank comes to the realization that Mac will never be secure with his sexual identity unless he comes out to his father.

What We Do in the Shadows: 5.03 Pride Parade

cw for nudity and sex (the sex scene is completely clothed, common for this show).

The vampires help Sean host a Pride parade; Nadja helps her doll achieve a long-held dream.

So much is happening. Nandor's having his little jealousy arc over Guillermo spending more time with Laszlo than with him. Meanwhile, Guillermo's transformation slowlya and grotesquly continues. Laszlo makes suncream from Guillermo's sweat and literally gets to frolic in the sun for the first time in centuries! Also, they try to disprove some common vampire myths, like having to count grains of rice that fell on the floor (true) or their powers of flying. Nandor claims he can fly to outer space, and tries to prove it only to impress Guillermo. Meanwhile, Nadja (who broke the legs of the Doll Being Posessed By The Spirit Of Deceased Human Nadja offscreen between seasons) switches bodies with Spirit Of Deceased Human Nadja (yes, in this show a woman is posessed by the spirit of herself). We find out that Human Nadja died a virgin, so they enter her into a speed dating event. It turns out that Human Nadja is even worse at interacting with modern humans than Vampire Nadja is. Nandor then flies to space, equipped with a go-pro and a selfie stick. They then literally have Colin Robinson ALSO posess the body of Vampire Nadja, which ends in some sorta Harry Potter 1 (it's the best comparison ok) type creature with Nadja's face in the front and Colin Robinson's face in the back. Meanwhile, the underlying plot of this episode is that they are all actually helping their Human Neighbour Sean with organizing a pride parade (a ploy by him to increase his voting block with the LGBTQ+ community), and finally the psrade begins. Nandor literally crashes it as he falls down from space, getting up buck naked and slightly charred, gloating to Guillermo about how he did it. Then the pride parade begins, and the highlight is clearly Guillermo (who came out as gay to his family last season), having his own little cart where he's just holding a sign that says "Gay Man". He's been scrutinizing this whole event from the second it was suggested, but in the end, he slowly stsrts to get into it, learning to enjoy himself. The episode ends with Laszlo fucking the body of his wife, which inhabits two different people, while his actual wife in her doll body sits on his shoulder. This is very much consentual by all parties involved.

#it's always sunny in philadelphia #its always sunny in philadelphia #wwdits #iasip #what we do in the shadows #this matchup is a complete coincidence btw #poll #polls #round1 #r1g4

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episodeoftv · 7 months

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Round 4 of 8

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

Adventure Time: 7.24 Hall of Egress

Finn enters a mysterious dungeon and struggles to find a way out and back to Jake.

Both thought provoking and entertaining. A lot of AT episodes that try to be thought provoking aren't as deep as they think or are too nonsensical (not all tho love this show) but this hits the perfect balance. It's also just. A REALLY good episode!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hall_of_Egress

What We Do in the Shadows: 5.03 Pride Parade

cw for nudity and sex (the sex scene is completely clothed, common for this show).

The vampires help Sean host a Pride parade; Nadja helps her doll achieve a long-held dream.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pride_Parade_(What_We_Do_in_the_Shadows)

#adventure time #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #polls #poll #round4

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episodeoftv · 7 months

Text

Round 3 of 8, Group 1 of 2

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

Six Feet Under: 5.12 Everyone's Waiting

Nate and Brenda's daughter Willa is born, but 2 months early and at only 2 lb. 4 oz., requiring a prolonged hospital stay. Nate is convinced she won't make it and insists that he can't accept it if she does and is "damaged", shaking Brenda's own confidence. Rico encourages David to sell the funeral home but instead he and Keith buy out Rico's 25% so he can start his own. David agrees to temporarily leave home, and goes to the funeral home. There he's confronted by Nathaniel about considering leaving the business and for his gayness, and is forced to fight his mysterious attacker back, then finally sees his face. Maya is returned to Brenda and Ruth has to face her own problems, until Maggie reveals Nate did see her, happily, as Brenda insisted. Claire takes up photography (of Ted) again and gets a job offer at a New York photo production company, but offers to be there for Ruth until she insists she go and unfreezes her account. Brenda gets a surprise visit from Nate, who finally shows love for his daughter, and someone else. Claire learns the company who gave the job offer has just failed, but Nate encourages her to go onto New York anyway.

What We Do in the Shadows: 5.03 Pride Parade

cw for nudity and sex (the sex scene is completely clothed, common for this show).

The vampires help Sean host a Pride parade; Nadja helps her doll achieve a long-held dream.

#six feet under #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #poll #polls #round3 #r3g1

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episodeoftv · 8 months

Text

Round 2 of 8, Group 2 of 4

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

Kaguya-sama: Love Is War: 1.12 I Can't Hear the Fireworks / Kaguya Doesn't Want to Avoid Him

After being forced to abandon seeing fireworks with her fellow Student Council members, Kaguya shuts herself up in her dark bedroom. Hayasaka, Kaguya's maid, is worried about her mistress's depressive state. She tries to cheer Kaguya up and when that doesn't work, introduces a plan to sneak out of the family mansion. Kaguya manages to slip past a pair of vigilant butlers and reaches the venue, but the fireworks display is already over. Kaguya is in tears, since she really wanted to see the fireworks with the others, but then she hears a familiar voice: "Then, I'll show them to you".

What We Do in the Shadows: 5.03 Pride Parade

cw for nudity and sex (the sex scene is completely clothed, common for this show).

The vampires help Sean host a Pride parade; Nadja helps her doll achieve a long-held dream.

#kaguya sama love is war #ksliw #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #poll #polls #round2 #r2g2

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chelsfic · 4 years

Text

Vampire Seeking Familiar - Nandor x Guillermo Fanfic (One-shot)

WWDITS Masterlist

Summary: Nandor places an ad for a human familiar and Guillermo responds. My take on how they first meet!

A/N: I woke up with the urgent need to write this. I was inspired watching Harvey’s AMA where he mentions that maybe Nandor placed an ad on Craigslist for a familiar. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff, Crack, Smooching, Light mention of sex (not explicit)

---

"Greetings, peasant. I require your assistance with the electronic computing device."

Nandor hulked over the reference desk, looking like an anachronism standing amidst the dull, institutional decor of the public library. He wore a floor length cape trimmed in gold embroidery over a brocade tunic and deerskin pants. He attempted an awkward smile, putting his fangs on full display.

He wasn't the strangest thing the librarian had seen that day.

“Sure,” she replied with a guarded smile. “What are you trying to do?”

"I am attempting to post an advertisement on a list kept by a man named..." he glanced down at a scrap of paper in his hand, "...Craig."

Ninety painstaking minutes later the librarian breathed a sigh of relief as the strange man finally clicked “publish.”

“Now, you just keep an eye on your email,” she kindly explained, “and wait for someone to respond.”

Nandor’s eyes lit up with a kind of hungry delight as he switched tabs to his empty Hotmail inbox.

“Your assistance has been most appreciated,” he thanked her, reaching into his tunic and flicking a heavy, gold coin in her direction.

She flinched as the coin flew at her head, awkwardly catching it and placing it beside the keyboard.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Relentless. But I can’t accept a tip. Have a nice night.”

She stood up and walked back to her desk with a look of repressed hilarity on her face. She doubted anyone would reply to this guy’s post. But then, she reminded herself, she’d certainly seen stranger things happen…

Nandor clicked refresh and frowned when his email remained stubbornly empty.

---

Vampire’s Familiar (Staten Island)

Attention Mortals!

Do you weary of your pathetic human lives? Do you wish to find purpose in serving your evolutionary superior? Can you lift at least 50 lbs without assistance?

I, Nandor the Relentless, Conqueror of Thousands and Immortal Vampire, seek a human familiar to do my dark bidding. Duties include, but are not limited to, daytime errands, cleaning of a large mansion, laundry, personal valet services, securing the house against sunlight, blowing out candles, and waste disposal. The successful contender will be provided room and board for a fair rate ($1200/month) and the promise of eternal life after their term of service (length TBD).

If you possess the courage, kindly respond by electronic letter.

---

It had to be fake, right?

Guillermo sat in the break room at Panera Bread, idly scrolling through job ads on Craig’s List when the heading “Vampire’s Familiar” caught his eye. For a second he felt his stomach swoop with excitement before he got a hold of himself. It was probably just another jerk looking for attention. Guillermo knew in his heart that vampires were real, despite never having met one in real life. And it was his dearest, secret dream to become one of them. But so far, his internet sleuthing had uncovered nothing but a whole lot of pathetic internet trolls.

But what if this was the one?

He clicked the link, biting his nails as the text of the job posting loaded on the screen. He read through it, a smile tugging on his lips. He really shouldn’t get his hopes up, but his eyes kept darting back to that name. Nandor the Relentless. Conqueror of Thousands. What a cool vampire name.

He opened his Gmail app and started a new message.

---

Dear Nandor the Relentless,

My name is Guillermo de la Cruz and I am writing to you in response to your Craigslist posting seeking a human familiar. I have long been an enthusiastic admirer of vampires and it would be a dream come true to meet one and work for them.

I’m a responsible, hard worker who’s eager to learn new things. While I have never worked as a familiar before, I do have a background in customer service and a Bachelor’s Degree in History from Stony Brook University. I have attached a copy of my resume.

Looking forward to hearing from you,

Guillermo de la Cruz

---

Guillermo suggested they meet at a Panera Bread on Staten Island because it was familiar and, more importantly, public. He was less worried about meeting an immortal, murderous creature of the night than he was about the possibility that the guy could turn out to be a regular human serial killer.

He picked a comfy armchair by the window and sipped his tea while he watched the door, feeling a thrill every time it opened. He was early. If this guy turned out to be the real deal, then he desperately wanted to make a good first impression. When a tall, darkly handsome man with long hair and a cape walked through the door Guillermo gulped and raised his hand in a shy wave.

“Nandor?” he asked, just to be sure.

The man turned to him and there was no mistake. Guillermo’s breath caught in his throat. His skin was pale, almost glowing in the restaurant’s warm lighting. His eyes were dark brown and penetrating. Guillermo felt struck when the vampire’s gaze fell on him, as if he could see straight through him and into the most secret parts of his soul. He stepped closer, looming over Guillermo and looking somehow both self-important and unsure.

“And you are…” Nandor glanced upward, searching for the name. “Guy...Gil...Gilbert?”

“Guillermo,” he corrected with a shy smile. He shifted on his feet and adjusted his glasses nervously. He knew vampires were sexy by nature, of course. But he hadn’t been expecting to feel an immediate attraction to his prospective employer. This guy had his own gravity and he was sucking Guillermo in.

“Guillermo, of course.”

Hearing his name in the vampire’s rich, accented voice sent a tingle down his spine.

“Shall we, uh, sit down?” Guillermo stammered and then smacked a hand to his head, gesturing to the display case of pastries, “Unless you want something…?”

Nandor hissed dramatically and Guillermo got his first good look at his fangs. Honestly, he felt faint. This guy was either an excellent cosplayer or he was for real.

“Vampires cannot consume human food,” Nandor announced with a grimace of disgust. “Lesson number one.”

Nandor sat with a sweep of his cape and Guillermo followed suit.

“Oh! Of course! I have a lot to learn… Mr. Nandor--Mr. Relentless, sir,” Guillermo stammered, finally picking up his tea and taking a big gulp just to shut himself up.

“Master will do just fine,” the vampire replied as he adjusted the fall of his impressive cape around him. “That’s how you’ll refer to me if you get the job.”

“Oh! That’s--um,” Guillermo tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he pondered the right word, “very...antiquated?”

“Well, hello! I’m a vampire! Kind of comes with the territory,” Nandor scoffed dismissively. “If you’re not interested--”

“No! No, I’m...I’m definitely interested,” Guillermo insisted, blushing furiously at his own words. He was interested...in more ways than one, apparently. He couldn’t stop glancing down at the vampire’s mouth, his full lips and the delicious hint of sharp fangs. God, what would it be like? To be bitten…

Nandor watched as the human’s full cheeks darkened with a blush. He parted his lips and inhaled longingly, scenting the sweet, spicy aroma of the man’s blood and barely suppressing a growl.

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat and abruptly asking, “So, you want to tell me a bit about why you are wanting to become my familiar?”

The interview--oh my god, I’m having an actual interview with an actual vampire!--flew by somehow. At first, Guillermo was all nervous stammers and sweaty palms, but after a few minutes he couldn’t help the natural urge to gush and he found himself barraging the vampire with fascinated questions. Not just about the job, but about himself. How old was he? Could he fly? Turn into a bat? Use mind control? What about sunlight, was that really a thing? Garlic?

Rather than becoming annoyed, Nandor seemed to preen under the human’s obvious admiration. He held his head high and his word choice became increasingly grandiose as he waxed poetic about his existence as a creature of the night.

As the meeting finally wound down, Nandor turned his deep, liquid eyes on Guillermo, capturing him in his gaze as he spoke.

“Now, Guillermo, you must tell me one thing. If I choose you for this job, are you willing to give up all this,” he gestured around at the interior of the Panera Bread. A cashier wiped down the glass display case and an infant wailed somewhere in the back of the dining area. “And come and live with me, putting yourself under my control and becoming subject to my dark power?”

Guillermo gulped down his nerves, feeling the momentousness of the occasion as he whispered, for the first time, “Yes, master…”

“Wonderful!” Nandor cried with a clap of his hands. “I will reach out to you through the ether after the checking of your background.”

The vampire stood, moving away from the table before Guillermo could formulate a response.

“The...ether?” he finally asked, his brows knitting together in confusion. “How will that work?”

Nandor waved away Guillermo’s confusion with a flick of his wrist and answered, “Very simple. My voice will come to you in the evening before you are a falling into the slumber.”

Guillermo was silent for a beat, wondering how this answer was meant to clear up his confusion.

“Right,” he finally murmured. “Of course…”

Nandor turned to stalk out the door and Guillermo jogged after him, “Wait! There’s just...just one more thing, before you go.”

Nandor turned back with an annoyed expression, “Yes, what is it? I’m getting pretty hungry over here!”

Guillermo choked down an enthusiastic squeak at this admission and attempted to school his features into neutral calm as he asked, “How do I know you’re legit? Can you...show me proof?”

Nandor’s eyes darkened and he seemed to grow even taller as he turned his full focus on the human man, “You require proof? You require proof from Nandor the Relentless, who has twice turned the waters of the Euphrates red with his enemy’s blood. Proof, you say?!”

“Yeah,” Guillermo shrugged, holding onto what he hoped was an aloof calm as he quaked internally.

Nandor sighed and rolled his eyes as he answered, “Fine! Come with me. Fu-cking guy…”

He led Guillermo to the alleyway behind the Panera. During the day you might find a delivery truck back here or an employee taking out the garbage, but it was deserted at this hour of the night. Nandor stomped ahead of Guillermo, clearly aggravated at this request. He stopped and turned to face the human with a dramatic flare of his cape.

“Prepare your puny mortal brain,” he warned and then, without ceremony, he transformed into a bat.

Guillermo gasped, his face splitting into a wide grin as the tiny, squeaking thing flew circles around his head, landing in the lush curls of his hair for an instant before taking flight once more and erupting back into his vampiric form.

Guillermo rushed up to Nandor’s side, positively gushing, “It’s true! You’re real! A real vampire! Oh my god, I--”

Nandor suddenly broke out into an aggrieved hiss, grimacing and turning his face away.

“Watch it with that shit!” he complained loudly. “You can’t say...the g-word around vampires! You understand?”

Guillermo tilted his head in confusion for a second before realization lit his eyes.

“Oh! The g-word, of course! I’m...I’m sorry, master. I promise I’ll learn quickly,” he babbled. Now that he knew for certain that Nandor was a vampire, he was desperate to land this job. It was everything he’d dreamed of since he was a little kid first watching Antonio Banderas as Armand.

“Yeah, well--you’d better!” Nandor griped, but his face smoothed into a self-satisfied smirk at Guillermo’s obvious hero worship. A thought occured to him as he watched Guillermo’s adoring gaze. “There’s one more thing--I’ve just remembered. You can never fall in love with me, human. I know a lot of vampires who get into the whole sex thing with their familiars and it always ends up...messy. Understand? That’s a condition of your employment.”

Guillermo felt his face once again heating up with mortification. Had he been so transparent?

“Of course, master. I understand,” he murmured.

Nandor nodded, looking satisfied with Guillermo’s answer.

“Alright, then. Remember, you will hear my voice through the ether! Night, night!”

And then Nandor braced his knees and leaped into the air, soaring over Guillermo’s head and into the night sky.

“Wow!” Guillermo sighed, watching the tiny pinprick that was his vampire disappear into the darkness. “He’s so fucking cool…”

---

Some years later…

Guillermo sat in the fancy room with his legs tucked up underneath him, typing away on his laptop as Nandor fed another piece of wood to the fire. He paused long enough to enjoy the view of his boyfriend’s ample (yet firm!) backside as he bent over the fireplace.

“Guillermo,” Nandor started, dragging out the last syllable adorably. “What are you working on over there?”

“Why don’t you come here and see?” Guillermo replied with a shy smile. He patted the cushion next to him. He was still bashful about flirting with his master. Their relationship had finally--finally!--advanced after years of longing and pining. But even after a week of learning everything Nandor had to teach him about the joys of vampiric sex, he still felt unaccountably shy about their new relationship status.

Nandor settled down beside him, pressing their sides together and peering down at the thin computing contraption with a look of trepidation.

“You need to be careful with these things, Guillermo!” Nandor admonished, wrapping an arm around his familiar and pressing his face into the warm crook of his neck. He breathed in his delightful scent before continuing, “There are witches on the internet who can curse you through the electronic post!”

“Don’t worry, mas--Nandor. I’m being very careful,” Guillermo assured him.

The night they first made love, Guillermo had been overwhelmed, beside himself with a heady mix of physical sensations and emotions. He’d cried out at Nandor’s touch, using the title that he’d been trained to use for almost a decade. Nandor had felt his stomach drop and ice flow through his veins at the sound. “No...no, my Guillermo. Call me Nandor. Please. Call me by my name…”

“What do we have here…?” Nandor pondered, squinting his eyes as he read the text on the screen. “Guillermo! What is this all about!?”

“You said it yourself, Nandor,” he replied with a sly smirk. “Not falling in love with you was a condition of my employment…”

The words hung in the air between them for a moment and Guillermo felt as though he’d just opened up his chest and revealed his beating heart to the vampire’s hungry gaze.

Nandor’s dark eyes softened and sparkled in the firelight as he murmured, “Oh, my Guillermo… I--I love you too.”

Nandor took the laptop and set it on the coffee table before taking Guillermo into his arms and laying kiss after kiss across his sweet face.

“Are you ready?” Nandor’s voice was hushed. Guillermo looked up at him and was awestruck all over again at his luck. That such a man could love little ole Memo.

“Yeah, just--hang on a sec,” he said, leaning over Nandor’s lap to reach the computer and hitting “enter.” He fell back into Nandor’s arms, looking up at him with perfect trust and saying, for the last time, “Yes, Master. I’m ready.”

---

Vampire Couple seeking Human Familiar (Staten Island)

Do you long to explore the hidden world of magical creatures all around you? Do you have a strong stomach? A career as a vampire’s familiar might be for you!

Nandor the Relentless and Guillermo the Great seek a human assistant to do their dark bidding...

#nandermo #nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #wwdits fanfic #what we do in the shadows fanfic #wwdits

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