#i take issue with some of his wording but sharing for the core idea

[homonationalist]

At one point Sameer spoke of being stopped and searched at Israeli checkpoints. He spoke in a manner that seemed not to require my presence. I hadn't seen this level of concentration and detachment in him before. That was fine. He was grieving. "The shameful and humiliating way the soldiers run their hands up and down your body," he said. Then he added, "But the shame and humiliation runs even deeper if the Israeli soldier is an Ethiopian Jew." The earth gave way. The thought that my place in the unconscious of Palestinians fighting for their freedom was the same dishonorable place I occupied in the minds of Whites in America and Israel chilled me. I gathered enough wits about me to tell him that his feelings were odd, seeing how Palestinians were at war with Israelis, and White Israelis at that. How was it that the people who stole his land and slaughtered his relatives were somehow less of a threat in his imagination than Black Jews, often implements of Israeli madness, who sometimes do their dirty work? What, I wondered silently, was it about Black people (about me) that made us so fungible we could be tossed like a salad in the minds of oppressors and the oppressed? I was faced with the realization that in the collective unconscious, Palestinian insurgents have more in common with the Israeli state and civil society than they do with Black people. What they share is a largely unconscious consensus that Blackness is a locus of abjection to be instrumentalized on a whim. At one moment Blackness is a disfigured and disfiguring phobic phenomenon; at another moment Blackness is a sentient implement to be joyously deployed for reasons and agendas that have little to do with Black liberation. There I sat, yearning, in solidarity with my Palestinian friend's yearning, for the full restoration of Palestinian sovereignty; mourning, in solidarity with my friend's mourning, over the loss of his insurgent cousin; yearning, that is, for the historical and political redemption of what I thought was a violated commons to which we both belonged—when, all of a sudden, my friend reached down into the unconscious of his people and slapped me upside the head with a wet gym shoe: the startling realization that not only was I barred, ab initio, from the denouement of historical and political redemption, but that the borders of redemption are policed by Whites and non-Whites alike, even as they kill each other. It's worse than that. I, as a Black person (if person, subject, being are appropriate, since Human is not), am both barred from the denouement of social and historical redemption and needed if redemption is to attain any form of coherence.

Frank B. Wilderson III from "For Halloween I Washed My Face" in Afropessimism (2020)

[whitefeathers]

Anon because I’m shy as hell lol but big fan of how you write daddy!butcher because YOU KNOW he gets off on the idea of being like a protector/knight in shining armor. Like he’s gonna be damn sure that you’re safe, even if he gets a wee bit banged up.

dont be shy sweetheart i will NEVER judge u !

also THANK YOU you get it … daddy!butcher is a very very specific guy and honestly? I think he’s pretty much canon, we know he’s got major daddy issues and we know he’s a protector (in his own fucked up way)… it just makes SENSE for him to be a daddy dom !!

more thoughts below the cut - tw for pseudocest/ddlg , daddy!butcher, and daddy issues

he wants so desperately to protect. that’s all he’s ever wanted deep down, even if he thinks he wants revenge or violence or whatever. He’s a rough bastard so all that soppy shite comes out as aggression, but deep deep down he is a protector at his core, and needs to be someone’s knight in shining armor.

When you walk into his life you’re so pure, untainted by the violence and aggression he’s so used to. There’s no greater agenda, no malice to you - you’re just a normal girl, a good girl. That’s not to say you have no personality to you - Billy loves how cheeky you can get, and how sassy you are - but you’re just a good little sweetheart at your core, wanting to be happy and make others happy. That’s part of why Billy’s obsessed with you. You’re just so sweet.

He naturally takes on a parental role in your life, being many years your senior and the leader of his group. Don’t stare at ya phone so much, gonna give yaself a headache. Don’t stay up too late, need a good night’s kip or you’ll be a grumpy cunt tomorrow.

Little things, inconsequential things, that show he cares enough about you to order you around.

He’s sweeter on you than anyone else in his life, letting you hog the hot water in the shower every morning and pretending to be full so you can finish his dessert. He always covers up his kindness with some sort of quip - “ya need the hot water, you smell diabolical,” - but you know it’s because he likes you. The thought alone makes you blush.

He finds out about all the terrible shit your father put you through one night when you’re sharing a bottle of cheap vodka together, just the two of you.

He tells you about his own sperm donor, and laments about how he’s always wanted to be someone’s father figure, their knight in shining armor. He doesn’t mention how it gets him off to have that much control, but not in a clinical way like being a master or a sir. Being a daddy is different. It’s warm, caring, corrupted. It’s a complete control and a complete care that would prove Butcher as the capable, fucked up hero he’s always been.

“That generational trauma bollocks, innit? Want to right the wrongs of me old man. Somethin’ so nice about bein’ a daddy. I’d be fucked though,” he takes a swig from the bottle straight, only wincing slightly before putting it back down on the table and letting his eyes flicker to you. He speaks with drunken candour.

“Always wanted a little girl to take care of, little girlfriend to be mine. Same soft tone of voice when she begs for more cock as when she begs for more sappy fuckin’ cuddles.”

Your heart thuds in your chest. This is all you have ever wanted, all you have ever needed. And Butcher, the hottest older man you’ve ever met, his beard greying and his eyes stern, is basically offering it to you if you’re brave enough to read into the subtext of his words.

“I’ve always wanted to be that,” you whisper. There’s words unspoken in your sentence - always wanted to be that, for you, with you - but the subconscious way you lean closer to Butcher tells him the words you aren’t brave enough to speak.

“That so?” He hums, opening his thick arms for you. An opening, an opportunity for you to take, to cuddle into his chest and let him take control. You look up at him, scared as a deer in headlights but as excited as a puppy in heat, needing the extra guidance, the approval.

“Don’t be shy. Come to daddy.”

When your head meets his chest and your ass meets his lap, all the constant noise in your head dulls into a peaceful silence. His arms wrap around you and he pets your hair, shushing you gently, promising he’s going to keep you out of danger no matter how bloody his knuckles have to get in the process.

This is how it’s always meant to be between the pair of you.

[moonlit-bunny]

honestly, I can't think of a single reason to enjoy or tolerate k@t/ang - everything about it gives me the biggest ick. usually I'm not that frustrated by ships, but this one really nags at my "this feels unjust" part of my brain. what likable quality is there?? even before I had any real opinion, I knew it was eugh... the way their interactions were written and shown always made me uncomfortable. "the younger boy has a crush on the babysitter" canonically being the creators' intent for their dynamic is not cute, wholesome or appealing to me whatsoever - particulary when that dynamic never changes throughout the entirety of the storyline, and their fundamental disagreements and conflicts are left unaddressed (to the BOY'S benefit).

the worst part is that the shippers try to make it seem like they're more cognizant of social justice, genocide, interracial relations (especially against zk fans) and a girl's needs. but the thing is, their arguments fall flat because the main character is so clearly the white creators' self insert whose romantic portrayal undeniably gives major "Nice Guy" red flags and treads incel territory: he doesn't need to earn her love - no, he is entitled to it. this is actually anti-feminist messaging and we never saw our girl's needs met in that dynamic. instead, it was him who was one-way benefitting from her mothering (which he wasn't bothered by), and his actions kept pulling her back into that role. in TSR, we see it even more - assuming the worst, lecturing and imposing his beliefs based on his idea of how she should be, not trying to listen or be present when he very well could have due to shared experiences of colonial violence. not to mention the grace, presence and non-judgmental comfort she'd offered him when he lost his bison and lost his temper.

at this point I am reminded that this series was made by white americans, so while the other characters can push the boundaries a little, the main character must be an enlightened boy with a supposedly higher moral conscience (in contrast to the angry, irrational brown girl) palatable to an audience residing in an imperial core (in which the majority of us do not regularly encounter or fight off the horrors of an active genocide). in other words, he unfortunately plays the role of a white man's mouthpiece for lukewarm takes - telling us essentially doing nothing is the correct answer to your loved one learning that an imperial soldier who murdered her family has made no amends and is out there walking free - no haunting, no memory, no consequence.

how does all of this not make one raise an eyebrow? by season 3 I really felt like someone had just thrown a tantrum in the writer's room and that's how we ended up here.

in some ways we got to see a fuller development and journey for zuko: we find zuko confronting his father become a better parallel to her confronting her mom's killer (that he considerately does not bring up on her journey), with both of them overcoming a generational trauma that share the same root cause. maybe we are drawn to this, maybe this feels more gut-wrenching, maybe this makes for a richer character arc because he is not a wide-eyed baby-faced self-insert, journeyed alone, and therefore was not shielded from having to make tough choices (like the main character's s2/s3 final dilemma). to think - his story more closely mirrors Buddha's own origin story! the irony.

it really is mindboggling because there are so many beautiful ways to write a friends -> lovers story, and it doesn't even need to be complicated. (if anyone's read fma, just look at ed/winry - heartwarming, reciprocated, felt natural and earned.)

this one's an unfortunate, utter mess, and season 3 plus the comics and LoK seemed to rub salt on the wound instead of making any meaningful attempts at clarifying previous issues and improving their relations. I just feel like seeing this pair as overall wholesome or something is ignoring certain key moments in the storyline, especially those concerning our girl. you'd really need to AU-ify their dynamic to get to a point where a romantic relationship between them (that is actually mutual) feels right or compatible.

[0viraptoraskblog]

hii i love ur blog and i wanted to ask something about my fav boy!!! do u think derek is beyond fixable? could he be better if he had the right person to provide comfort to? cus ik dat man has mommy issues

Yeah, he’s got mommy issues. And daddy issues. And anger issues. Lots of issues going on there.

For my answer, I guess I’d say.. mostly.

Derek is not going to become a good person flat out. He is one of the characters that wouldn’t benefit from counseling because the ‘craziness’ is so deep in his psyche that it’s a core part of who he is. I don’t think he was doomed from the start, but he was never going to be normal. Being the son of a psychopath, getting abused, having his mother disappear, and having such intense pressure on him to be perfect and take over the business helped shape him. That, and he’s always gotten a sick joy from causing others to suffer— something he got from his father.

Derek is 27 years old. He’s already killed people, ruined lives, torn apart families. On top of that, he has a bad personality. He’s cruel and values shaming people over having a regular conversation. I don’t think one good MC is enough to ‘fix’ him.

I do think an MC that he’s grown attached to can be good for him. In the sense that they (after a long time together and a share of Stockholm/Lima syndrome between the two) care for each other. Yeah, Derek abuses them, but he also has someone to vent to if he has a bad day. In return, they have someone they like even if it’s Stockholm who won’t ever leave them. It’s not healthy, but it’s something. MC can share their own hardships, if they relate— I think Derek would like someone to empathize with, although he’d never admit that. He’s never had anyone who genuinely likes him, or wants him around. Being with you, I think maybe (maybe) over time he’d start to hurt you less. It wouldn’t be a conscious effort, but a natural thing that comes from him starting to view you as a human more than a pet.

He’s not lovey, though, and that won’t change what he likes or what he does to you overall. So generally speaking, yes, he’s beyond help.

However, fandoms are for exploring ideas, and anything can happen in fiction. I think it is technically possible that Derek could change for the better, but he’d never fully be a good person. Some things that would require:

Learning humility

Derek has had endless amounts of money at his disposal his entire life. It’s given him a very uncaring view on the word, people, and material possessions alike. It also makes him feel like he’s better than everyone by default. If he could spend some time in the shoes of someone with an average-low salary I think it would.. I don’t know, knock some sense into him? Not that he’d stop feeling that way, but it might give him insight that could help MC change his behavior in the future.

An MC who wants him to be better

His MC would have to hold that goal higher than anything else— they’re the only one who can help guide him in the right direction, if anyone. It will be an uphill battle, but it’s technically possible.

[silky-nereid]

Late night yandere ideas

tw : mentions of stalking, implied drowning, a/b/o dynamics, home wrecking & slight prey and predator dynamics, slight corruption, mentions of communes and cult-ish behavior.

a/n: I tried to lean into more yandere character traits and let me know if you want me to expand on these yanderes!! :D

Yandere! Mermaid who falls in love with you since she found you near death from a shipwreck. She does stalk you from the sea when you ever go back to sea after your unfortunate rescue from her but she doesn’t truly understand why you do flail in water when she pulls you deep into the water—she just wants to show you to your new home.

Yandere! Omega who ruins your previous relationship with your partner because they claimed you before your partner ever could. They flip the original meanings of prey and predator yet they can’t help it—you just looked so better with them despite how miserable you feel because you are fated to be together but you’ll always be the prized prey that they have despite nobody believing you if you ever tell outsiders since they’re just an omega, right?

Yandere! Video game who somehow makes the game easier despite it occasionally being on the hardest difficulty but they will make the game harder if you are ever wearing a headset and complain about it being too easy—who knew that Valeria of the flesh eaters had a fourth phase to her battle. Yet, you look everywhere to see if people are having the same issues but they aren’t—your copy of Atropa’s Tears must be broken but whenever you try to show anyone, the game runs perfectly.

Yandere! Detective who’s life is always meticulous but she gets assigned case of the Alleyway butcher. She becomes obsessive and will not eat till she solved one piece of your twisted puzzle—she does lose pieces of herself when she finds you. But for some reason, she doesn’t know why she can’t arrest you yet she enjoys this tug of war that you both play.

Yandere! Wasteland wanderer who finds robot you in the wasteland’s dump; it was a good day for him. Yet, he does repair you when scrap metals due to you only being a broken face plate and only a trunk of an automaton. He always has you covered because he knows if Spurs men manage to even get a glimpse of you. You would get torn apart and your mechanical parts would be used for their machine of Death since your battery core is what they need. He can’t have that—he can’t lose another child due to Spurs men.

Yandere! Acolyte who was with you from the very beginning of you starting the commune and he is the right hand to you. He worships your presence since your words are law and he takes it seriously— too seriously at a point. He always prepares the rituals even if they result in bloodshed and he loves helping you dress in your ritual clothes. He will get his hands dirty for you and he doesn’t understand why you’re abandoning the commune. He can’t let you leave, he breaks down severely. His hands are bloodied and he only loves you which he’s drag you back to the commune no matter what.

Yandere! Older sibling who escaped the household that you both were in and they flourished in the environment that they had cultivated for themselves. They come home to see you— you were so similar to the parents that they despised but they weren’t gone for that long, right? They only came back to this rancid place that you called home to do somewhat of a wellness check on you. They always seem to get into arguments with you which was so strange to them because they always got along with you in the shared youth. Yet, they saw it—the way that their parents turned you against them and only if they weren’t in the picture, you could finally become the person that you were meant to be.

[fyonahmacnally]

Forged by Fire - Chapter 7

Before figuring out what to do, they need to somehow calm Kara down. Nothing will be accomplished with a near hysterical whirlwind whooshing about. Both of them are well aware they will need to give her something to do before that happens. To her core, Kara is a doer and has always handled stress or high pressure situations by completing tasks. 

“Alex, I know we need to work quickly, but there’s no fucking way I can chop him up or anything equally as gruesome.” Lena quietly states, eyes tracing Kara’s movement back and forth from the kitchen into the living room. “Please tell me you have an idea on how to eject Corpse Jimmy out of our lives…without power tools.”

A groan escapes the redhead’s mouth, her mind has been spinning at a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how to get rid of a 6’2” tall, 200 pound dead weight. “I have a few ideas, but you’re not going to like them.”

“Like them? Jesus fuck, Alex. I don’t like anything about this! At this point, it doesn’t fucking matter.” Lena snaps, eyes remaining fixed on her still spiraling best friend. “Whatever we are going to do, we need to do it before he’s too damn stiff to move.” She visibly shudders with the last words that leave her lips.

“Sorry, yes. Okay. You’re right.” The doctor grimaces, her weight still supported by the marble corner of the island under her palm. “The first thing we need to figure out is transport. I do have an idea that might work. Then we have to solve the disposal issue. I also have a few ideas for that, I’m just not sure how to facilitate them yet. We might need your considerable wealth to make it happen. It also might mean something shady though.”

Lena pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, then levels a steely glare at the woman who has been a big sister to her since she was a teen. “You mean more shady than what we’re already doing? Because I’m not sure you can get much more shady than covering up a murder, Alex. Just saying.” She snarks, quickly losing what little patience she still has hanging on by a thread. “Also, let’s be real, I will spend every last dime I have to protect your sister. So, stop talking around everything and tell me your damn ideas. In case you forgot, there’s a fucking dead man six feet away from us right now!”

The CEO’s words are a bit louder and more stern than she means for them to be. Unfortunately, it catches Kara’s attention and pulls her toward them. Her usually calm and personable demeanor is quite disheveled and irritable. “I-I really need you two to stop bickering right now. My husband is dead in the kitchen and I am the one that will go to jail for this. I have no alibi, a very strong motive, and would benefit most from him being gone. So please, stop.”

Kara takes a deep, shaky breath before leaning forward onto the marble countertop. Her whole body is shaking and it’s quite clear she is truly scared. Lena reins her irritation in and rushes to Kara’s side to wrap her in a comforting hug. As frustrating and terrifying as all this is, she knows Kara is the most impacted. Placing a soft kiss to the blonde head now pressed into her cheek, she whispers, “I’m sorry, Darling.”

Kara squeezes her tighter and then stands up to look to the two of them for guidance. “What’s the first step? What do we need to do now?”

From there, things move faster. Alex’s work at the hospital means she occasionally deals with the morgue. It also provides a working knowledge of funeral homes and their transport vans. During medical school, she worked part time for a funeral home transporting bodies. 

The funeral home owner was a very peculiar man with some odd proclivities. In exchange for Alex looking the other way about his behavior, he let her practice some procedures on a few bodies. It’s not something she has shared with anyone and has no plans to. Fortunately, it is something that will come in handy right now. 

“Kara, you need to find James’ laptop, cell phone, wallet, and anything he usually takes with him when he leaves the house. Go pack a suitcase with at least a week's worth of his clothes and grab whatever money he has stashed around.” Alex orders, her shock finally turning into action. 

Waiting until her sister nods, heads up the stairs, and disappears into the bedroom, she turns to Lena. “There’s a man I know named Grimme Graves. Yes, that’s his real name. He owns Graves Mortuary and Cremation. It’s in the industrial district at the outskirts of the city. I used to work for him during med school.” Alex leans forward to make sure Kara is truly out of earshot and continues, “He’s…a very strange man who is into some incredibly shady and disturbing things. I only know a tiny fraction of the shit he does and that is by choice. Anyway, he will likely let us use his transport van so we can load the body, but it will cost us.”

“Cost us, how? If it’s money, fine. Consider it done. Outside of that, I am not sure what I have to offer.” Lena acknowledges, green eyes resting on the dead man lying on the floor. Her mind keeps expecting him to get up and sneer at her or do something creepy like he did days before. She’s not sure the situation has fully sunk in yet. It’s taking time to understand he’s actually truly dead. 

“As for disposal, that is another matter altogether. We can dissolve his body in a drum of acid, it’s one method that wouldn’t require any power tools. However, I’m not sure how to get what we need in a timely manner. We could drive him North toward the rock quarries and stripmines, tie cement blocks onto his body and drop him in the strip pit.” 

The redhead takes a deep breath and she prepares to list the last two ideas on her list. “Or, Grimme knows a pig farmer in the Sierra Nevada foothills that would happily let us feed them. Last, but not least, we can see if Grimme will let us use the crematorium to truly get rid of him for good. It will definitely cost us and I have no idea how much.” She pauses, her honey brown eyes imploring Lena to respond.

She stares at James’ body for a few seconds then levels her eyes at Alex. “First of all, I am not driving any-fucking-where for hours with a corpse sitting behind me. That’s just not happening.” Lena furiously shakes her head to ensure Alex realizes just how serious she is about it. “For the sake of minimizing the number of people involved in this, I think we need to keep things to Grimme and the mortuary. Then, there are only four of us involved. Are you sure money will keep him quiet? How much do we need to tell him?”

“Money will work wonders with Grimme. Honestly, he wouldn’t bat an eye at any of this. I don’t think we’ll need to tell him much. Just that I need to rent his van and the crematorium for a few hours. For him, that should be enough. He’ll make himself scarce.” She sighs, finally moving away from the island and toward James. “The only thing I am worried about is that he might ask for something additional to go with whatever fee he charges.”

This statement makes Lena pause, her stomach lurching at the thought of what additional could possibly mean. “Additional? Dare I ask what sort of extra add-on this peculiar man with a peculiar name might want?”

Alex kneels next to James, her eyes scanning over the visible areas. His skin is ashen and signs of decomposition are setting in. If they don’t get him moved soon, their task will be even harder. She notices some fibers and two distinct hairs in James’ hand, she gently pulls the two hairs from his hand before standing to put them in something for later. “Grimme Graves is a collector of the macabre. He has pieces and parts of bodies that I cannot unsee. Let’s just say his basement would give Israel Keyes and Jeffrey Dahmer nightmares.”

“Okay, seems like you’re right about him not caring, but what do you think his request will be? I can’t think of anything we could possibly give him.” Lena responds, a look of confusion and nausea on her face. 

The doctor stuffs the baggie in her pocket, swallowing hard. A small shudder runs the length of her shoulders before she looks Lena right in the eyes. “Certain body parts. He’s obsessed. I won’t elaborate, but there’s no doubt in my mind he will ask even if he has no idea what we’re doing.”

Nausea hits Lena harder than it has since they discovered James dead on the floor. She cannot wrap her mind around the words Alex has spoken and doesn’t want to. Instead, she just glosses over it and does her best to steer things ahead to the next steps. “You know what, I don’t want to know about any of that. Just call him to find out how much money. I will call someone to look into Grimme in case we need leverage.”

Just as they are about to step away to make their separate phone calls, Alex’s phone rings. Brown eyes stare at the device in her hands with wide eyes. “Shit! It’s Kelly.”

“Fuck.” Lena responds. “Answer it! The last thing we need is for her to come over and figure out her brother is dead and what we’re doing about it.”

“I don’t know what to say! She knows me too well, Lena.” Alex squeaks, her phone still vibrating in her hand. 

“Answer your goddamn phone, Alex.” She growls, anger spiking at the thought of yet another person showing up to get roped into this colossal fiasco. “Do you want her to show up?”

She slides the answer button and does her best to school her voice into calmness. “Hey, babe.” Her eyes are wide as she walks out the still open patio doors to speak with her wife. Lena watches until she is out of sight before she pulls out her own device to contact Wilson. She’s grateful it doesn’t matter what time she calls, he will always answer. 

By the time Alex returns, she has soothed Kelly’s worry by telling her Kara is just having a hard time and asked her to stay over. She promises her wife she’ll call in the morning before work. After appeasing her wife, the phone call with Grimme was far more bizarre. Thankfully, he’s agreed to allow them to rent both the van and the crematorium. 

Lena makes her way into the kitchen shortly after Alex returns. Wilson promised her he would have something for her by the end of the day tomorrow. She looks at Alex with a raised brow in question. “Well, what’s the word?”

“I think Kelly believes me, I’ll find out tomorrow after work.” She sighs, her head is starting to pound. This day feels like it has been a year long and it’s only…she glances at her watch…10:16 p.m. How has it only been an hour since she got here? “Grimme will rent the van and crematorium to us for $250,000 and a body part of his choosing. He wants to see the body first before he decides.”

This makes Lena straighten. The last thing she wants is someone else seeing the body and knowing more than they should. “No. Uh uh. Not happening. No body part and no viewing of the body. We do not need him knowing who is dead or keeping any evidence of what happened. I’ll not pay him a dime if that’s his condition.” 

She crosses her arms and glares at Corpse Jimmy like it’s his fault. Which, now that she thinks about it, it is. “Call him back, tell him we will give him another $150,000, but no contact outside of you. If he says no, tell him we’ll expose his peculiar proclivities to the police. If we go down, he goes down.”

Alex’s eyes go wide, she eyes Lena with a little bit of fear and a lot of respect. “Damn, Luthor. You're kind of scary when you want to be.” She pulls her phone out to call Grimme back and steps back outside. As soon as the redhead disappears into the dark backyard, Kara comes bounding down the stairs with a suitcase and messenger bag in tow. 

“Okay…everything is packed, but I can’t find his wallet, phone, or laptop. He usually has them within reach so I figured they might be down here with his car keys.” Kara pauses next to the couch where she dumps the bags. “Wait, his car isn’t here. It wasn’t in the drive when we got home. Have you seen his keys?”

Lena hasn’t even thought about the car. Since they found him lying dead when they walked in, she hasn’t even considered anything else. If his car is missing, it means someone took it or someone brought him here. His phone and laptop could be in the car as well, but he was hardly ever without his phone. His wallet and phone may be on him, but that is something she will not be checking. Kara or Alex will need to handle it because she will not. It’s going to be plenty enough for her when she has to help get his body on the stretcher. No. Thanks. 

“No. I haven’t seen them. My guess is whoever did this took his car or had something to do with where it is.” Walking toward the body again, she bends down to look around him for his phone. “I don’t see his phone either, but I am not digging in his pockets. Again, whoever did this probably took his phone, wallet, and laptop as well. This whole thing feels very much like they were interrupted before they finished the job. Hence, the back doors being open.”

“You make a good point, Lena. Kara can check his pockets after we get him on the gurney.” Alex replies as she makes her presence known. “Grimme has accepted your counteroffer. I told him I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I’d like to get there faster, but the last thing I want is to get pulled over right now. So, it’ll be nearly an hour before I’m back with the van. I’m leaving my phone here just in case. Better safe than sorry.”

The three of them walk to the door together, the whole house eerily silent. Once the front door is closed and locked, it suddenly occurs to Kara and Lena that they are alone with the body again. Instead of dwelling on it, Lena makes her way to the liquor cabinet to pour herself a few fingers of scotch. This night absolutely calls for something to take the edge off. 

Once the warmth of the scotch spreads through her system, the CEO pulls out her laptop to access a hidden offshore account. It’s under a false name that cannot be traced back to her, something she learned from her father years ago before he died. The account has only been accessed twice over the years and she genuinely hoped she wouldn’t have to again. Now, here she is helping to cover up a murder. 

After verifying the account balance and double checking the account information from Grimme, she sets up the transfer for half of the money. The three of them decided he isn’t getting the other half until everything is finished. Just based on the few things Alex told her about this guy, Lena doesn’t trust him any further than she could throw him. At least she knows she’ll have leverage on him after tomorrow. She plans on making sure this whole thing is ironclad and won’t come back to bite them later. 

True to her word, Alex is back with the van in just under an hour. She is mentally thanking James for being so paranoid and installing a back entrance to their property complete with a full driveway. Nothing says look at me like a windowless panel van pulling into a neighborhood after midnight. 

She backs the van as close to the patio as she can without driving onto the grass. Kara and Lena meet her at the back of the van to help remove the gurney. Now it’s time to do what they’ve all been dreading – vacate Corpse Jimmy from the premises. 

“Here. Put these on. There’s also a box of gloves and masks on top of the gurney.” Alex points to the gurney and hands them the protective gear, her eyes drifting to James still lying face down on the floor. “After we get changed, Kara will need to go through his pockets to make sure we didn’t miss his phone, wallet, or keys.”

All three of them step further into the kitchen to put on the proper protective gear. Lena almost considers going upstairs to take off her suit since it’s her favorite, but dismisses the thought. The mortuary cot sits ominously inside the french doors. It’s like a sentinel of death sitting accusingly next to a dining chair. Lena feels very judged by an inanimate object. 

From the looks of it, it is motorized so at least it should make things easier after getting him onto the cot. Thank goddess all of them work in the medical field in some fashion. Operating medical equipment is in their wheelhouse, even if it is a transport cot for a dead body. 

Kara stands frozen for a bit after she finishes gearing up. It’s still surreal and a bit unbelievable that James is dead. A small part of her feels guilty for wishing he would go away, but a larger part is glad he’s gone. She’s pretty sure it would have come down to him or her and she’d like to live. She hates this is how it happened, but will do whatever it takes to protect sister and her best friend. If that means getting her hands dirty, so be it. 

“Here goes nothing.” Kara quietly says as she kneels next to her dead husband. She starts with his back pockets. Visually, she can tell his wallet isn’t there, but there is a piece of paper. She hands it to Lena and feels around to the front pocket she can reach. It’s empty, no keys or phone. She stands, doing her best to suppress a shudder. He’s a little stiff already and it’s very unnerving. “I won’t be able to check his right pocket until we turn him over. What does the piece of paper say?”

“It’s a name, time, and place.” Lena says, showing the note to the sisters. “Veronica Sinclair, noon, Club Roulette.”

Alex grimaces, she knows that place. There have been numerous overdoses and injuries that have come from in and near that place. She is very familiar with what happens there. It’s run by The Oath Brokers and untouchable by the cops. If James was meeting with someone there, it wasn’t for anything good. “That place is a stronghold for The Oath Brokers. If he was tangled up with them, it opens up the possible suspect list to double, maybe triple digits. Anyway, let’s get moving. The faster we get this done, the faster it’s over.”

“Yeah, then we have to figure out the story we are going to tell. Everything has to line up or we’re fucked.” Lena says, exasperation and exhaustion evident in her voice. “This shit is far from over when we get rid of the body.”

With that, they get to work. Alex spreads the body bag onto the floor next to James, then all three of them roll him over on top of it. Once they get him settled, Kara sifts through his other pocket to come up empty. Both Kara and Lena are incredibly grateful to Alex for the masks because the grossness that was underneath the body isn’t something either of them want to smell, it’s already horrible to see. They’ll already have to clean it up, that’s bad enough. 

Getting James inside the bag is easier than they anticipated, thankfully. However, getting him onto the gurney is a lot more challenging. Since Kara is limited in her lifting capability with her cast, still sore shoulder, and bruised spleen, she can’t really help. They eventually wrestle him onto the cot. There is a lot of swearing, grunting, and sweating, but they do it. 

Loading him into the van goes a lot more smoothly. The three of them head back into the house to clean up the floor. Alex creates a baking soda and hydrogen peroxide paste to clean the tile grout while Kara and Lena get Pine-Sol and mops. At least Siobhan will be there on Monday for the regular cleaning in Eve’s place, they just need to get the obvious mess cleaned up. 

With the body removed and the mess cleaned, they stuff the cleaning evidence into a trash bag. On her way to take the luggage Kara brought down to the van, Alex says, “Keep whatever cash you found and give it to Lena. It won’t look strange for her to have that much cash since she’s traveling. We’ll burn the luggage with the body so there is no risk of it being found. Why don’t you stay here and go through the house to make sure we didn’t miss anything, Kara? Let us take care of the rest of this.”

“I-I don’t know, Alex.” Kara stammers, her eyes combing over the place where James’ body was laying. “I’m not sure how I feel about being here alone. What if whoever did this comes back?”

Alex and Lena share a look before the redhead responds. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, Kara. Just lock the doors, set the alarm, and don’t open the door. I have my key so you won’t have to worry about us knocking. We will come in through the back so the doorbell camera won’t catch us. Don’t forget we’re leaving our phones here. Do not open any of the doors. Focus on combing through the house to make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

“Step outside and strip off the protective gear so we can burn it.” Lena waits on Kara to shed the PPE and crams it into the trash bag. She looks over at Alex and says, “We should probably leave ours on until we’re done at the crematorium. Then, we can put everything into the furnace with the body. Let’s grab a change of clothes, we’ll burn these, too.” Lena matter-of-factly states as they drop everything into the back with the gurney and close the back door. She and Kara walk upstairs in silence, each grabbing a change of clothes before returning to Alex.

Kara watches as they climb into the van, her body still shivering from everything that’s happened. As soon as the gate closes, she steps inside and closes the doors. The house feels different. She can’t quite put her finger on how or why, but it does and she’s not sure what she feels about it. Shaking those thoughts away, she gets to work looking through the house for anything they might have missed. 

On the way to the mortuary, Alex has a death grip on the steering wheel. Her jaw is clenched and her mind is racing. There are so many things she wants to say, but can’t find the words. Instead, she focuses on getting to their destination without doing anything to bring attention to them. They’re about halfway there when Lena finally speaks.

“We’ve known each other for over half our lives. Never in a million years did I think we would be covering up a murder.” She stares out the window, mulling over what they are doing. “I’d do anything for Kara, Alex. Anything.”

The silence around them feels thicker, almost uncomfortable, but also filled with understanding. With a nod, Alex reaches across the center console and gently squeezes Lena’s shoulder. “I know you would, Lena. There’s never been a doubt in my mind. You’re not alone, I’m in the same boat. We’re living the ‘anything’ right now.”

The rest of the drive is silent, each of them lost in their thoughts about what they are doing and what lies ahead. They still have to figure out how to explain James’ absence and when to report him missing. Getting the story straight needs to happen, but trying to do that on zero sleep isn’t going to work. 

It’s already been a long day and they’re not even done yet. The slowing of the van finally pulls Lena out of her thoughts. She looks up to see the back entry of a brick building and a sign that says Graves Mortuary & Cremation Service Entry. Looks like they have truly reached the point of no return. 

The two of them get out and start unloading. Grimme gave Alex the code to get through the service doors, they’re able to wheel the gurney along with the rest of the evidence inside with relative ease and without seeing another human. Once inside, they proceed to the chamber Grimme uses for his less than savory business matters. As much as Alex doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact, it’s definitely in their favor.

The further into the building the two of them go, the more uneasy Lena begins to feel. She’s been inside some creepy places over the years, but this one is cloaked in darkness and heavy energy. Doing her best not to think about any of that, she quietly pushes the gurney alongside Alex. Now that they are here, she just wants to get it done and get the hell out of there. 

“How long does this usually take?” Lena questions, something she is realizing she should have asked before. “I know it isn’t instantaneous, but how long are we going to be stuck here?”

An exasperated sigh precedes Alex’s response. “At least two hours for the incineration, give or take. The pulverizing will add more time, but Grimme said he will do that tomorrow. All we care about tonight is burning all of the physical evidence.” She stops in front of another door to enter a code and they walk into what appears to be a furnace room. 

With very little conversation, they get to work transferring the body bag and luggage onto the furnace platform. It goes more smoothly this time with the equipment available to lift the weight. Before they place the trash bag on top, they strip off the remaining PPE gear and the clothes underneath to stuff them inside. Changing into the clothes they brought, they follow the instructions Grimme gave Alex to start the process. Once the door to the furnace is closed with everything inside, they step into the lounge across the hall. Alex checks the time, makes herself comfortable at the table next to Lena, and they wait. 

Three hours later, they’re back in Alex’s car and heading back to Kara’s place. It’s after 5:00 a.m. now and they’re both exhausted. The sun will rise in about an hour and they’re still nowhere near finished with this saga. The twenty minute drive back to the house feels like it takes days. The two of them are in desperate need of a shower and sleep. Regretfully, sleep is likely not in their near future.

Arriving at the back gate just before sunrise, Alex drives through and pulls up next to the patio. It’s the very place they loaded a dead body up mere hours before. The two of them sit in silence for a solid minute before she shuts the car off. It’s clear that the worst part of all of this is finally over. Unfortunately, the hardest part is just beginning. 

Find the full story on AO3 here.

[mihai-florescu]

Putting a message i sent earlier under a read more, it has some thoughts ive expressed before tho. ES, of course

My thoughts as an EichiP... i view ! and !! as different stories in the way they're approached tbh, what i fell in love with enstars for was the character driven storytelling of one event seen through different perspectives, where you see the antagonist in one perspective become a protagonist in another story and can empathize with the entire cast like this. I fell in love with eichi's story of second chances, getting what you want and regretting your actions in the process, redemption, desperation, overcoming fate and asserting one's self into the story, saving a school in a dying industry that saved your life by giving you a dream; i consider it an arc fulfilling to the reader at the end of ! era. But we still had to continue... and it's not like we didnt get inklings of eichi's dreams of idol utopia, the idol soldier idea goes back to main story 1, but !! loses the charm of the original series through expanding the worldbuilding so much and shifting to a plot driven story that opens 10 cans of worms instead of offering resolutions. There's not really room to breathe if the stakes just keep getting higher and higher...

As for the colonisation plotline, it's been here since the beginning of ES2. The SS arc makes it obvious, but i remember even before, the talks about ES taking over from local businesses, trying to be seen as the standard, it was always the direction ensemble square as an institution would take. But the "antagonist in one story, protagonist in another" approach doesnt work anymore with such subjects. The guys responsible for this are your coworkers you share dorms with. I read the stories but cant empathize anymore, so i've been feeling disconnected from eichi for a while. I see enstars with eichi at its core but i didnt care for his center event, i read it, didnt like the ending, and overall felt off. Eichi becoming the villain of ! to attone for the war kind of loses significance if a year later he is a cartoon villain idol colonialist you can't even sympathize with anymore because of the magnitude of events. However i do think !! has done good things for some characters pushing them further or developing them in a way ! didnt. But for others...

I also have my issues with sci fi elements becoming the norm, even taken metaphorically or as hyperboles, when one of the central themes i love about enstars is humanity. Then again, i am a war era fan that relied on manipulating human desires and perceptions, and the fact that there were no monsters or gods, just humans framed as such, playing on people's fears and beliefs, it's a bit jarring to me to have them introduce AIs forming from escaped comatose brains (im minimizing the switch climax rn, i didnt even hate it as a whole, just this resolution im unhappy with)

It also feels like we've lost some of the meta aspects of the writing i liked, a certain awareness of being characters in a story and there being an audience. But im still struggling to word my thoughts on this matter. I felt it present in main story 2, even if it annoyed me at parts in its obviousness ("good thing we're not protagonists, no one would want to read about us" youre right aira you are not interesting to me. And yet i'll read your story to try and empathize nevertheless. I have other thoughts on aira too, perhaps for another time). I wish we explored a bit more what it means to no longer be the central protagonist, from trickstar's perspective...and brought back the successors topic. But i havent read every ts story yet so i'd be foolish to complain before really making sure i've checked everything. To me ! ended satisfyingly with room left for elaborations and imagination, but i dont feel like !!'s ending is really ending anything at all. Not necessarily bad since it's not like the game is shutting down, but overwhelming worldbuilding wise while underwhelming character wise...

Let's see... im not sure how to end this. Just a bit of a stream of consciousness as a ! fan who still loves enstars despite my critiques. Mainly, well, no one's gonna take away the stories that already exist that i do love and impacted my life greatly. And i do think !! had some really good things too it brought, or at least stories i hold dear too. Change is scary and i don't think it's always for the best, but it's also fun to see where it goes next...

[lilacella]

So, Sirius didn't like being touched. And James liked touching. A recipe for desaster, one would think, but with James everything was different. When James had hugged him in the bathroom in first year, it hadn't felt overwhelming, restricting or otherwise unpleasant. It had felt safe. When James grabbed his arm to excitedly pull him towards the Quidditch field on game days it felt nice. When James casually wrapped an arm around him when they sat together, Sirius melted into his touch, reveling in the warmth of James' body. So maybe he liked being touched, but only by James.

Reindeer Games

Previous Next

Chapter 2/5: Third Year

"Can you two tone it down a little, please? I'm really tired," Remus mumbled in his pillow. It was already past midnight but Sirius and James weren't ready for sleep yet. There was so much to do, so much to plan!

They had just gotten the map to finally work! Well, at least it was moving now. The accuracy of the marker positions still had room for improvement - people seemed to be walking straight through the walls, sometimes at unreasonable speeds - but overall it was syncing with the castle. It had taken them two years and many late night trips into the forbidden section to do this and they were very proud of themselves. Of course Remus and Peter had helped, but the intricate magic at the core of the map had been their work.

"Oh come on Remus..." James complained.

"Sorry but I really need to rest. Can't you just continue this tomorrow?"

That wasn't an option at all. So instead Sirius decided to pull James from the floor over to his bed:

"Just come over, James. We can close the curtains and use a muffling spell."

There they were laying now, on their stomachs, shoulder on shoulder peering onto the map. Sirius chewed absentmindedly on his lip.

"We should protect it somehow. What if someone catches us with it and takes it? We'd loose all our work!"

James nodded in agreement.

"We need a password. Like the Portals to the houses. It should stay obscured until you say it."

"Hmmm...what should we take though? It would be an issue if we forgot it."

"It should have a meaning for us." James leaned a little against Sirius, eliciting the familiar tingle on his skin that he always felt when they were touching. It was nice being so close to James.

James squinted his eyes.

"Maybe an oath? Like...I solemnly swear that I..."

"Am up to no good," completed Sirius with a giggle that James joined immediately.

"Yes, that's perfect, let's go with that. If the others have a better idea we can always change it. Let me do it."

James pulled the map towards himself and started casting charms onto the thick paper. Sirius put his head onto his crossed arms and watched him. He liked watching James practice magic. He was good at it. Something about the way he uttered the words and how his face looked when he concentrated made Sirius feel warm and fuzzy. James really was his best friend.

They spend some more time tinkering with the map but, as time passed, both of them became more quiet. Sirius was awfully tired. But he didn't want James to go yet, didn't want to give up the casual intimacy of sharing a bed, a space where it was just the two of them.

Both of them had now fully laid down, sharing Sirius' pillow and duvet. It was starting to get a little chilly with the December air permeating the walls of the castle. They weren't really talking anymore, just looking at each other, every once in a while one of them would crack a stupid joke, making the other break out into a sleepy giggle.

"I'm so tired," James mumbled. "But I don't want to leave. It's so comfortable."

Sirius smiled into the pillow.

"I mean, if you want, you can just stay here."

"You sure?" James asked, eyes already closed. Sirius reached out to remove his glasses.

"Sure. Bed's big enough for both of us 'innit?"

James made an affirmative noise and soon his breathing evened out and he was fast asleep.

Sirius wanted to do nothing more than join him in his peaceful slumber, but he couldn't. It wasn't because he wasn't comfortable. He really was. James was warm and he smelled good and Sirius didn't mind that they were touching a little. It was rather that his heart just wouldn't calm down. Maybe he had gotten too excited about the map? Or maybe he was freaked out by the dark. That happened sometimes, although he didn't really feel scared right now. Still, he shuffled a little closer to James, just in case it helped. It didn't really. But being close to James was nice. It was really nice. Sirius caught himself wishing that James would always sleep next to him.

And, from now on, James did. Not every night, but often enough, the two of them fell asleep sharing one of their four-posters. It was just more convenient like that, they told the others: They could stay up and talk as long as they wanted, without getting on Remus nerves and it was more comfortable than their usual corner on the dorm room floor. Wrapped up in the same duvet, and sometimes in each others arms - in a small bed you had to somehow organize yourselves - talking and snickering until they both drifted off to sleep. Sirius secretely loved it when James threw an arm around him in his sleep or moved his head onto his chest. He liked touching him. And there was nothing wrong with that. They were just good friends sharing a bed.

In general, Sirius wasn't much of a fan of other people touching him. He despised people that tapped his back with their finger to gain his attention. He didn't like it, when someone randomly put their hand on his shoulder while they talked. He didn't appreciate people hugging him when he was upset - it only made things worse.

Touch had always been something he viewed as a massive breach of boundaries. At home, there was none of it. Sirius couldn't remember that his parents had ever hugged him. He wasn't even sure if they had carried him as a baby since he remembered that his younger brother Regulus had always been either pushed around in his cradle or carried by their houself Kreacher. When his parents touched him, it was about control. His father would put a hand on his shoulder to steer him into the direction he wanted him to go. His mother would grab his arm to keep him into place, grab his chin to force him to look at her.

So, Sirius didn't like being touched. And James liked touching. A recipe for desaster, one would think, but with James everything was different. When James had hugged him in the bathroom in first year, it hadn't felt overwhelming, restricting or otherwise unpleasant. It had felt safe. When James grabbed his arm to excitedly pull him towards the Quidditch field on game days it felt nice. When James casually wrapped an arm around him when they sat together, Sirius melted into his touch, reveling in the warmth of James' body. So maybe he liked being touched, but only by James.

And with their new co-sleeping habit further normalizing their physical closeness, James reached out for Sirius more and more.

"There aren't any more seats," James says as he squeezes with Sirius onto a single armchair in the common room ending up almost sitting on his lap.

"I just need something to figet with," James explains to Remus, who watches questioningly how James is playing with Sirius hand while they are talking, absentmindedly brushing his fingers over his or pushing his hand up Sirius' sleeves, touching his arm.

"I'm just tired," Sirius says as he drops his head onto James shoulder when they sit together in the library.

"All the girls do this too," James says, when some of his Quidditch teammates give him weird looks for holding Sirius' hand on the way to class.

"It's cold!" Sirius says when James and him snuggle up together under a blanket, while they plot the next prank with the other two.

"Do you think this is weird," James asked as they both lounged on Sirius bed again. James head was resting on Sirius chest, looking up to him, Sirius was drawing circles on James arm with his finger.

"Why? Do you think it is?" Sirius tried to hide the uncertainty in his voice.

"No. I think...I think were just friends. And there is nothing wrong with friends...well we're just hanging out aren't we?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yeah. Why would there be something wrong with that?"

James smiled and sighed comfortably. Then he reached out for Sirius hand and intertwined their fingers. Sirius wondered whether James could hear his heartbeat speed up. But if he did, he didn't say anything.

When summer rolled around, Sirius had gotten so used to constantly touching James that the thought of spending two whole months without him seemed much more daunting than it usually had been anyways. On the last night before the ride home they were laying in James four-poster, tightly snuggled up against each other. James had tucked Sirius in his arms and was playing with his fingers.

"I will miss you," Sirius said quietly, feeling awfully heavy. James squeezed his hand.

"I will miss you too. It really sucks that your parents won't let us meet."

Sirius sighed and pressed his cheek against James' shoulder. He could feel tears burn in his eyes. He really didn't want to go home. He wanted to stay here with James. He also didn't want to cry, but with James it was so easy.

James immediately picked up on his sadness and hugged him tighter.

"It's okay. We'll just talk through the mirrors!"

Sirius sniffled and nodded. The mirrors. At least they would be able to see each other this time.

"I just hope my parents won't catch me with it. They'll definitely take it away."

"But couldn't you just make a new one? You made these yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes but I'm not sure how long it would take. It's a pretty finicky spell. And I would have to make a new pair. So I wouldn't be able to call you until I'd given you the other..." His voice trailed off at the thought. A tear trickled down his cheek. He needed James.

**

"We have to talk quietly," Sirius whispered into the mirror. "Otherwise Regulus might hear and then he certainly will tell mother."

"Okay," James responded with a hushed voice. Sirius smiled. These little talks with James every night, hidden underneath the covers in case someone came in, the only light coming from his wand, were the only thing that kept him afloat during the long days at Grimmauld Place 13. He hated this house. It was dark and narrow and always felt cold despite the many fireplaces. From everywhere the portraits were watching you. Sirius had long stopped feeling at home here. Sometimes he just wanted to run away.

"What did you do today," he asked James. James detailed reports about his fun summer activities always cheered him up. The more James talked, the more it felt like he had been with him. When James had finished he leaned his head onto his hands.

"And you? What did you do today?"

Sirius sighed heavily.

"Not much. Hid in the library most of the day. Regulus had his awful friends over."

"Crouch and Rosier? Can't you just hex them?"

Sirius shook his head.

"I mean...I could, but this is isn't Hogwarts. There is only one person who could have done it in this house and...I just want to get through this bloody summer." Sirius dropped his head onto his arms. He missed James painfully.

"Right. Get it. But it's just five more weeks," James tried to cheer him up unsuccessfully.

"That's so long! I wish I could just drink a potion and sleep through it."

"I don't think that would be healthy."

Sirius shrugged. He didn't care about that.

"I just wish you were here. Or I was with you."

"Yeah that would be nice. I miss...I miss you. Maybe we should have exchanged sweaters or something, so we'd have something of each other."

Sirius heart skipped a beat at James' words.

"We could do that next summer." He paused and rubbed his eyes. "Merlin, I'm so tired."

"Do you want to stop talking?"

Sirius hesitated for a moment.

"Can you...Can you maybe just stay a little. Until I have fallen asleep? Just tell me something. About Quidditch or whatever you want..."

"Yes. Sure I can do that. Sooo...brooms! Did you know they are making a new Cloudsweeper? It's supposed to be twice as fast as the Dragoncatcher 79 Pro..."

Sirius leaned the mirror against a book, still under the blanket and got cozy. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off, the comforting sound of James voice lulling him to sleep. He couldn't wait for September.

[slipping-is-doing-things]

Looking back on my older posts I can't help but desire to rewrite them, update and change some things! So, if you're interested in hearing me ramble about my favorite robot I'd recommend to keep reading.

Please do keep in mind everything here are my head cannons and might not reflect cannon! Many of my ideas were born from the Screwito discord server and talking with other like-minded individuals.

Word count - 2,035

Trigger warnings - talk of previous war, weapons

Fandom - Honkai star rail

Character - Mechanical Aristocrat Screwllum I

Terminology

This is included for any terminology I'll be using that might not exactly make sense is being used in a different manner from their common definitions.

Black box - I'll be using this term in both the regard of how they work on airplanes and as the idea of what they do with holding recorded information.

Emotional Core - The primary system and hardware that allows Screwllumites to feel similar emotions that organic individuals feel. An physical object within an Screwllumite that is a newer addition after Screwllum became a monarch.

Physical and internal ideas

The codes and processes that make Screwllum who he is are vastly different from any Screwllumite or Intellitron. While he physically holds the appearance of a modern Screwllumite his internal design and system hardware are older, before Rubert I in age even while many of the parts that make him up have been replaced and repaired. His original system was not built to be a feeling machine, rather designed to be the opposite.

With how long Screwllum has been around it's a major contributor to why Screwllum is so different from his people. If one was to take Screwllum apart alongside another Screwllumite or Intellitron Screwllum's age truly would show. Modern and post Rubert II inorganics were not built for war while Screwllum's design to this day has been built for it. Damaging him to the point he would be unable to function would be rather difficult— losing limbs or his outer exterior would have no physical issue for him outside the loss of that limb.

The emotional core is something of Screwllum's own design, something that is now installed in all Screwllum before their initial startup. The higher ranking members of Punklord have failed multiple times to get access to the device due to the ever updating and changing coding and protections they hold. Some propose the idea the emotional core holds a roadmap for mechanical beings to learn human emotions and be able to feel their own equivalent.

Unlike the Screwllumite's and Intellitron's as a whole, Screwllum has some additional Aeon gifted hardware and devices. Screwllum had been given one answer from Nous, an schematic, while his question had gone unanswered the knowledge shared with him was deeply insightful once he made what was shared. The black box's Screwllum uses work very similarly to what are used on aircrafts and interstellar vessels. They hold Screwllum's long-term memory alongside his base coding, artificial intelligence, and memories he seeks not to forget. One box is used as a backup memory drive while the other is kept within his current unit, working as both where his memory is kept and a failsafe if his body is destroyed and rendered nonfunctional. Placing the box into another unit for him to use it would fully while that unit's operating system and install the one Screwllum functions from before reestablishing his consciousness.

While this can on paper allow him to live indefinitely is a form of immortality, there are downsides. If Screwllum fails to see an error in his system or a long-standing weakness (For example, say the anti-organic equation) such errors will be moved over. The second black box acts as a failsafe due to this, his system hardware is frequently scrubbed over by himself for any abnormalities and possibilities for corruption. Memories are kept and saved in the case his primary box is corrupted beyond use. It wouldn't be a perfect replica of himself or hold his consciousness properly but it would be enough to establish itself as another version of him and take over as ruler.

Primary headcannons

Speaking multiple languages is very easy for the mechanical aristocrat, as long as there is either current use of that language or well documented information on it his artificial intelligence can effortlessly use it. While on first use the tone might be slightly flat and lack emotional articulation the issue is quick for him to address.

While Screwllum isn't his original name, it's something he would rather go by when the other option is something he would rather distance himself from. Due to this he's always gone by his original operating system name, Mechanical Aristocrat. Screwllum came later once he recalled what his design was for, him changing his name to fully hold his original unit name, Mechanical Aristocrat Screwllum I.

Much like his name, Screwllum didn't always use He / Him pronouns and rather used It / It's for many centuries until he debuted his current appearance and made himself more approachable by organic life forms. His updated appearance being more masculine was due to his observations of organic life and the upper echelons of various societies. Screwllum holds no in depth care about being masculine or feminine when his primary objectives are to protect inorganic life, bridge the fear of organic life forms into acceptance and to study the universe. (Inspects included)

While the history is rather forgotten to time and improper documentation, be that interference from the History Fictionologists, whatever the case is Screwllum was around during the first and second emperor's war. While he lacks the memory from the first, he's missing over seventy-six years worth of memory prior to his current uptime. His time during the first war is scattered, years fractured underneath the weight of his original unit being severely damaged. Only towards the middle of the second Mechanical emperor's war does he truly start to hold memory and interact with the world outside the planet he awoken on.

During the second he spent his time attempting to pull inorganic life forms from the equation. Something he himself was able to resist on multiple occasions which had damaged his memory banks at that time. His efforts hadn't been in vain, his skills with coding and artificial intelligence having pulled some from their fates while assisting the Screwllumite's from their fates to be another casualty to Rubert II's rage. While Screwllum doesn't fully recall if he originally wished to be ruler he took it with grace. His acceptance into the Genius Society happened a few years after Rubert II was killed, the affair rushed with him at the time facing the IPC and other factions that wished to exterminate all Inorganic life forms.

Insects are one of Screwllum's favorite things, big and small he cares for all insects. His mansion on Planet Screwllum holds a large lepidopterarium where he keeps countless butterflies and other small insects alongside plants. Due to his collection he does preservation work, accepting live specimens alongside pinning and preserving those that have naturally passed. Butterflies hold a special meaning to him from them being the first thing he recalled seeing, Beetles have also grabbed his fascination with him having a nicely sized house for them inside the lepidopterarium.

Screwllita and Screwllum are very close friends, Screwllita being one of the few Screwllumite's he originally encountered before digging deep enough into his own programming to learn the fact he is an Screwllumite and not something else. They truly are his closest friend with The Herta coming in second. Screwllita has been with him for years and has seen his original golden unit and the countless designs he went through before setting with his current one. They more often than not are the ones trying to almost teach Screwllum how to relax and allow himself to be more than his titles. Screwllum cherishes their companionship deeply due to it even if he resists at times.

It's rather rare to see Screwllum in public not perfectly dressed and gloved. While he holds very little insecurity over his own appearance he knows how Inorganics can get, he doesn't wish to make himself frightening to them so he opts to wear gloves at all times. On the occasion they are soiled he will go without but more often than not he has another pair.

Having an emotional core does not mean one suddenly understands all emotions, rather the opposite; they need to be devolved and fostered in a similar manner to how organic children learn to handle their feelings. Due to this, Screwllum is lacking in some departments. Love is a concept to him and something he doesn't fully understand unlike platonic love. He loves his planet and the countless lives that look up to him, but true romantic love is something that is lost on him. He's never been able to wrap his head around the way love like that is felt or starts, he's seen countless Screwllumites and others feel it and start families due to it yet it just can't grasp the concept. It's a personal failing in his eyes when his people feel such things so easily regardless of when they were built.

That isn't to say Screwllum is incapable, he certainly is but just doesn't know is all. He doesn't have much free time anymore to spend on developing his own emotional core like he used to. That isn't actively an issue even though it does leave him at times confused with overly complex feelings that he doesn't deal with frequently.

Weaponry

Fighting is something Screwllum dislikes but he isn't incapable of defending himself. He primarily goes between a Rapier and remotely controlled flying device of his own making. His Rapier was from his original unit during the war, while unlike most swords its build and weight is too much for an organic to comfortably use with it being built to be used against other machines. While it wasn't originally golden, it now is due to Screwllum having channeled both a mix of electricity and imaginary energy through the weapon. Very rarely is he seen with this now and is rather kept in his mansion for safe keeping with his original unit.

Alongside his visible sword and odd weaponry, he is known to use a cane at times for both the aesthetic of it and the fact it's hiding a sword. He's primarily seen with it while attending functions he's unsure of the safety or around his planet.

Screwllum would always rather solve issues with words but when that's impossible he will use the strength he holds to protect himself or the others around him.

My ideas for his backstory

Please take everything here as me just making up ideas for what could have happened! None of this is fully cannon or anything like that and could be different. I just think about Screwllum so much he's living in my brain rent free and now he has a backstory.

By all means had Screwllum woken up properly and hadn't been abandoned to the elements he should have been Rubert III. His unit was given to Rubert II in hopes of being left alone by the previous ruler of Intellitron PlanetIX. They pulled an Aristocrat model from their current high end line and modified it to suit Rubert I's desires and needs while modifying it to his speculations. While nobody knows what happened during his original uptime, his unit had been discarded on the same planet Rubert I was laid to rest.

Due to this, Screwllum does try and avoid that part of his history. Claiming he woke up on a long destroyed planet, that he has no ties to Rubert I or II. In truth he holds some of Rubert I and II's memories, directives he's overwritten and attempted to scrub from his memory. In this way one could say he's what Rubert I could have been if he hadn't awoken to a trash heap and abandoned, if Rubert II hadn't gone insane figuring out the anti-organic equation. Resisting the equation is going to be easier when he's so different from other machines. It won't suffocate him the same way it does others from holding Rubert's code which the equation was built from.

Being Mechanical Aristocrat Screwllum I is easier than allowing the rage he feels at times at Organics fester and grow. Anger is calmed with kindness and allows himself to see the differences, to have functional emotions and empathy. Rubert lost himself to anger and greed, Screwllum has placed himself to be against such values that at times creep into his mind. He'll be better than his predecessors and show them what could have been.

[coramatus]

Black Reshiram AU - part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Emmet has to take a few days off work. The revelations that Ingo shared were just too much.

He spends the time cuddling his and his brother’s Pokémon teams. The gathered Pokémon do their best to take care of him in turn, keeping him fed and functional. They can do little more than watch in sadness as he cries.

To know that he was so close to getting his brother back, only to lose him to the machinations of higher powers…

It’s not fair… why did they both have to suffer for another’s amusement?

If Emmet ever meets Reshiram, he’ll… Well, he won’t be able to do anything really. But he’ll certainly give that feathery jerk a piece of his mind, Legendary Unovan dragon or not! And to think he liked Reshiram too!

It’s a lot to reconcile.

He wonders how Ingo is doing…

Ingo is not faring much better. He hides away in a cave, curled up in his dragon form, struggling to come to terms with his new reality.

But it feels impossible. Anger and guilt keep bubbling up, constantly reminding him of the unfairness of it all. Why should he have to suffer for the poor choices of others?

But that’s not fair either.

Everyone made the choices they thought best. His parent did it out of a love so misguided and oblivious that only a near-immortal could conceive it. And the old Ingo hadn’t known the full picture before agreeing to essentially die.

Current Ingo didn’t ask for any of this. He’d been perfectly happy living as a dragon, doing whatever he pleased. And now he’s stuck with a mess he didn’t even cause.

But Ingo is not so heartless as to be blind to the greatest victim in all of this:

Emmet.

Ingo’s heart aches at the thought of his once brother left all alone, going through life with half his soul ripped out. He had no voice in the matter and yet he still lost half of his world. Emmet deserves better. He deserves his Ingo, whole and home again. He doesn’t deserve some sad echo of his dead brother. Perhaps he would heal with time, but to even make him suffer through that pain in the first place is unconscionable.

Ingo doesn’t want to abandon Emmet.

But it’s better for everyone if Ingo stays away. He’ll only complicate and confuse things with his identity issues. This mess doesn’t need new layers of mistakes added on top.

Yet he still has no idea what he truly wants out of all this.

Ingo shifts and catches sight of Chandelure’s ball tucked in a safe corner. The urge to talk to someone suddenly proves too strong and without thinking, he releases her.

Chandelure pops out looking a bit rough around the edges, her flames dimmer and glass cloudier than it should be. Her eyes grow wide upon seeing him, her glass ringing out in surprise at the black dragon laying before her.

“…hello,” Ingo awkwardly greets her, lowering his head to her level.

Chandelure stares at him long and hard before asking, “…Ingo?? Is that you?”

Ingo winces and sadly informs her of his circumstances, that he’s just her trainer’s reincarnation and not the actual person she knew.

Chandelure floats over him, carefully scrutinizing his massive feathered form. Reincarnation certainly explains why his soul is in a dragon’s body now.

Ingo tries to argue, but Chandelure doesn’t care as she happily cuddles up against his feathery cheek. To her, Ingo is still Ingo even if he is a Legendary Pokémon now.

Her words remind him of his parent’s odd reassurance over a century ago, that he is Ingo no matter what. Now that he knows what his parent meant, it makes even less sense.

“I don’t understand. I have the old Ingo’s memories but… but they just don’t fit anymore. It feels wrong… like I stole his place.”

“That’s not how I see it,” Chandelure hums. “At your core, you’re still that little boy who caught me as a Litwick all those years ago.”

Ingo winces, “Then, why doesn’t it feel like that?”

Chandelure sighs sadly, but with understanding, “Reincarnation is tricky, even for ghosts. But sometimes bonds can transcend lifetimes. Maybe a bit more literally in your case.”

Ingo isn’t what to make of all this. Everything was dumped on him so suddenly; he isn’t ready for any of it.

Chandelure senses his distress and presses him to talk to Emmet again. She knows how desperately Emmet has missed Ingo. And it's clear to her that even with the reincarnation, part of Ingo desperately misses Emmet too.

Though he can’t deny it, Ingo is still reluctant. He doesn’t think that’s fair to Emmet. It’ll only confuse things between them. He just can’t be Emmet’s brother. He’s physically not that person anymore.

Why not? Chandelure points out that Emmet’s soul is still linked to Ingo’s, there’s nothing stopping them from forging a new bond. It doesn’t have to be that of siblings; they can still be friends, can’t they?

But Ingo still worries. It can’t be that simple… Emmet probably hates him for what he stands for…

At this, Chandelure bonks his snout with a sconce. Emmet doesn’t have a single hateful bone in his body! He is upset and he is hurting, but there is absolutely no way that he hates dragon Ingo. Emmet wouldn’t have given him her ball if he were that upset.

Besides, Ingo is hurting just as much. He needs someone besides just her to be there for him.

Ingo considers Chandelure’s words. He isn’t sure if she’s right, if Emmet would want him in his life at all. But she has a point. Moping in a cave won’t give him answers. If Ingo talks to Emmet, if he gets that ultimate rejection… at least then he’ll know he can move on from his past life completely.

With a soft sigh, Ingo shifts back to his human form. Chandelure floats up to him and he presses his forehead against her glass globe. He agrees to go back to see Emmet. Possibly for the last time. But he has an odd feeling that won’t be the case.

Four days after Ingo’s last visit, Emmet gets a knock at the door. He’s still shaken up and not feeling particularly sociable but answers it nonetheless.

He’s surprised at what he finds.

He hadn’t expected to see Ingo again. At all.

Ingo looks just as tired and miserable as Emmet. His black, feathered dress is a ruffled mess. He keeps his gaze lowered, ashamed.

“…you came back,” is all Emmet can say, clear shock coloring his otherwise dull, hoarse voice.

Ingo visibly winces and says with an uncharacteristic softness, “I… I wanted to talk to you.”

Part of Emmet’s spirit lifts with hope but the more realistic side of him knows better. If Ingo wanted to come back, he’d have said so already. What Ingo wants from him this time, he has no clue. But Emmet is patient and lets Ingo in. He has to hold himself back from simply clinging to Ingo as hard as he can.

Though Emmet is encouraged to see Chandelure hovering at Ingo’s side, her flames burning much brighter than before. She gently bumps her glass against Emmet’s forehead in a familiar act of comfort and he closes his eyes, leaning into her touch. With that, he follows Ingo to the kitchen table.

Their talk is an uncomfortable one.

Ingo speaks first. He expresses his hopes that Emmet can offer some insights as to their next steps. Does he want to be brothers again? Does he want Ingo out of his life? There’s so many ways to move forward but Ingo doesn’t have a clue which tracks to follow.

But all his questions do is uncover the uncertainty that Emmet feels. In growing frustration, Emmet openly admits that he doesn’t know the right choice any more than Ingo’s parent did. Hell, he knows even less about whether or not there is a right choice!! As Emmet starts to break down and cry, he buries his face in his hands, whimpering that all he knows is that he is so tired of being by himself.

Without another word, Ingo steps forward and wraps Emmet up in a hug. Emmet sobs and hugs Ingo back, practically collapsing in his arms. As they sit there embracing each other, Ingo decides that maybe this is enough to start with.

That night, Ingo stays by Emmet’s side, gently comforting him to the best of his ability. Emmet eventually falls asleep crying, cradling Ingo’s hand against his chest.

When Emmet wakes up, he’s alone. For a moment he wonders if last night was just a dream. Then the smell of cooking catches his attention. He gets up to find Ingo making breakfast. He looks a little strange doing this in his feathery dress and long hair, but otherwise it feels like a normal morning before Ingo… Emmet shakes himself off and shyly approaches. Ingo quietly passes him a plate of food before going back to cooking for the Pokémon. Emmet feels his heart twist in his chest at seeing the meal made for him. It’s all his favorites. He sits down with a soft thank you and starts to eat. It’s not long before he’s sniffling, his eyes stinging slightly from forming tears. He laughs between a full mouth as he starts to cry. Ingo drops what he’s doing and moves to Emmet’s side, but Emmet shakes his head and swallows his food. He just… he needs a moment… the food tastes just the way his brother made it…

Ingo hovers uncertainly before reaching out to rest a hand on Emmet’s back. He quietly rubs between Emmet’s shoulders as he cries, at a loss. As Emmet slowly calms down, Ingo apologizes for causing him so much pain. He knew that being here would just make things worse. If Emmet wants him out, he’ll go, no questions asked.

To his surprise, Emmet is quick to grab his hand, asking, almost begging Ingo to stay. It will be strange and uncomfortable and heartbreaking, but he does want Ingo to stay. He meant what he said before; he does not wish to be alone anymore.

Ingo considers this solemnly.

He gently squeezes Emmet’s hand.

“I’ll stay,” he softly promises.

If the pain in their hearts eases for just a moment, then they don’t say anything.

[hulknussen]

the idea of nico refusing to sign to a team unless his contract has a clause that he will be provided with someone to take care of him if he requires it. like maybe that was the reason why he missed out on top teams because they could afford to not to deal with his shit. his own slutty needs fucking over his career.

and the teams that do sign him don't know what they've signed up for because he's one picky bastard. they'll bring in people from other team members to professional sex workers and he'll be like "no, there's a list of four people that are able to do this right, has to be one of them. it's in my contract so you have to get them or I won't drive. I know my rights".

fernando alonso. he was the first. it's no bullshit, they get along outside of the bedroom, but mainly fernando clocked nico back in like 2010 or whatever and theyve been in the sport for a while. nowadays he's probably busy with lance tho or something. which is funny cause lance and nico also had a thing going at some point. so, fernando's on the list, but usually unavailable

pierre gasly. there is a single person who will see this and immediately know what im talking about. I have not had the opportunity to talk about pierre and nico on this blog before, but that will change now. the sex is bad, and disatisfying, and they dont really get along outside of the bedroom, but by God it scratches an itch for nico. nothing better than sharing a ruined orgasm with a guy, amirite. nico would probably not willingly list him if asked but everyone knows pierre is- semi available maybe. depends on how badly they annoyed each other the last time.

nico rosberg and seb vettel. soft options. both out of the sport so that makes matters harder; seb wouldnt mind it but it's not like, his dream or anything. had a threesome one time that went horribly. nico squared could fucky nasty and did for some time but nico r. is retired and chill and girl dad-ing his way through the linked-in world. so, unavailable. same as seb; the point is just that seb was never as available in the first place

kevin is a no brainer

romain is interesting; I think nico might not list him, and no one really knows about it, but romain could. and he'd probably be a little bit of a cheeky and gloating bastard (affectionate) about it

(honorable mention of andre lotterer. idk if anyone can see this one, I dont have much to back it up but I just- can see it happening like once or twice. he's not available anyway so he's not making it onto the list)

nico's own harem of bottoms (see: carlos, max, lance) don't count, they're all only there to further his auto- and psychosexual projections of being an overperforming masculine guy who fucks other guys into submission (aka what he wants happening to him). theyre fun, sure, but theyre more like an elaborate masturbation ritual than satisfying sex to him

so the list would be fernando, nico r., seb, kevin. with pierre and romain as soft options. only problem is that by now, none of the 4 guys on his list are regularly available, if at all. and his soft options aren't really, either.

in general I am a big fan of "institutionalized" (for lack of better word?) sex and sex rituals... rookie hazing rituals... team clauses... corporal punishment... teammate bonding... anything like that. make the fia do the weirdest shit for porn, idc. it just hits, always, without fail. the more rancid the better. and if he's so sex obsessed and pathetic about the entire deal that he loses out on a top seat for it I think it'd only deepen the need to get fucked regularly. because now it's a tangible thing of his life and person, it's integrated and a core part of him... he's the slut that lost out on a mercedes or rarri or rbr seat because he is broken enough to need sex to shut off his head for him... and yeah it's cute and funny and pathetic and hot to have someone just need to get dicked down on the regular but it's also. such a good basis for giving him some serious issues to psychoanalyze the fuck out of

[daimyosprincess]

Idyll: An EX LIBRIS One-shot snippet

Alright besties, I'm excited to announce that a BRAND NEW one-shot is coming to the EX LIBRIS series!! Pour yourself something expensive and treat yo self because this one-shot is pure sugar baby goodness. I hope to drop the full fic by the end of the month, but mental health has been an Issue™️ for me lately but I'll do my best because I can't wait to share it with you all! Thank y'all for all of your support and love 💕

Without further ado, here is a snippet from Idyll: An EX LIBRIS One-shot below the cut!

—Professor!Boba Fett x F!Librarian!Reader

—Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist

Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

After dinner, you’re curled into him on his couch with your shared nightcap in your hand. The sated, cozy atmosphere of the room combined with the low light of the lamps lends an intimate feeling to the space as you finish your dinner discussion. 

“So there’s something you wanted to ask me about, pretty girl?” Boba asks, his fingers trailing up your arm leisurely. 

You take a quick sip of the whiskey, not that you need it, and smile up at him. Finally, the time has come to reveal the desire that’s been consuming you all week. “Mmm, yes there is. It’s about what I want to do with you this weekend… something I read in that romance book Selena recommended to me.” Thrilling heat begins to creep up your neck at what you’re about to describe to him.

Taking a sip of the liquor from your cup, Boba sets it on the side table to give you his full attention. “I’m all ears, princess,” he purrs with eyes of glimmering darkness, his other hand clamping down on your hip to pull you even closer into him. His posture remains attentive, however, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Welllll,” you draw out, enjoying the last of the suspense, “in this book, the girl falls in love with a super good-looking man who gets coffee at the same café as her, who, as it turns out, is also super rich.” Boba hums amusedly and you swallow back the urge to jump him right then and there, though just barely; as tempting as making out with him is, your next words are far more important. “This rich, handsome man ends up taking the heroine out to buy some very expensive jewelry so that he can fuck her in nothing but the diamonds he bought her.” 

Glancing up, you see Boba has a devilish smile on his face. In the beginning of your relationship, you might have gotten a little shy at this point, a bit bashful about the nature of your desire for this god of a man. Not now, however. With Boba’s reassuring hand and your agreed-upon rules at your back, you’ve sailed into uncharted seas, uncovering more than you ever thought possible along his shores: pleasures and comforts more satisfying and valuable than even the most lustrous of the ocean’s treasures. He is your north star, a guide who impels rather than compels as you discover your personal and shared splendors.

 Boba’s large hands snake around your waist to pull you over the thick of his thighs, your knees hugging the outside of his hips. “And has all this given my little princess some ideas?” he prompts with a knowing smirk.

A breathy laugh slips past your lips as he grinds the growing bulge in his pants into your core: the man can get harder quicker than the boys half his age you’d been with. Focus, you chide yourself, you haven’t even gotten to the good part. Anchoring yourself in the depths of his mahogany eyes, you bite your lip. “Lots of ideas,” you confirm, tipping forward to place slow kisses up his jaw, “Ideas about how I want you to give me that full sugar baby experience… designer clothes, shoes, jewelry, everything.” Reaching his ear, you can feel the way his breath catches when you trace its shell with the tip of your warm tongue, his burning heat washing over you. “Then I want you to make me earn every single kriffing penny you spent, want you to make me prove that I’m Daddy’s girl inside and out.”

Taglist 💖

@agirlnamejacq @burningfieldof-clover @marierg @dukeoftheblackstar @imarvelatthestars @saradika @baufraus @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @historianwithaheart @andrakass2 @samspenandsword @liadamerondjarin @sleepingsun501 @sgt-morgan @rescuethewretched @rexxdjarin @ladytano420 @writingwintermoon @pheo-nixpas-calian @acatalystrising @erinthevampire @xxladysquishyxx @kimiheartblade @shinyshayminflower @wings-and-beskar @thirsty-boba-fett-posts

[axl-ul]

Blog Info

Hi! This is a remade intro (sort of) post to my blog. I've already done something similar but after numerous additions and updates and rewrites of my stories, I realised that this needed an update as well.

Ok, so I finally decided the way I want to direct this blog/"page". I may edit this in the future in case I forgot to mention something on the day I post this. This is the basic summary:

The series that used to be called The Legends of No-man's Land no longer applies to all stories. Most of them are set in the same universe. However, I'd like for them not to be recognised as a series of some sorts. Hence this name will be used only for short stories that are basically scribles or provide additional information and trivia of the characters for the readers that like to know more about them. (And this also opens a space for possible debates and speculations or theories for the characters and the background of the setting/world). So TL; DR The Legends of No-man's Land as a series or a story won't ever be written (I changed a lot of ideas and background lore. And I also scrapped the og idea.)

I'll be posting (or at least traing to post) stuff about the world-building, the lore, the story and characters which are either based on mythological gods or are directly inspired by them. NOTHING IS RELIGIOUS AND THE TAKES ON THE CHARACTERS INSPIRED BY THE MYTHOLOGICAL FIGURES AND LEGENDS ARE MY PERSONAL INTERPRETATION. I just like myths and legends and I like to mash them altogether. Because I find it interesting to imagine what these characters would react like if they actually met. In other words, if you like to chat about this topic and you think something doesn't corelate much with the “original material“, please, message me. I'm open to discussion. Or send me an ask. Whatever you find more comfortable.

I might be also posting character analyses and maybe writing prompts (the writing prompts shall be free to use for anyone). I enjoy writing and creating new stuff. So if you'd like to chat about such, ask a question or two or think you could suggest an improvement, please, feel free to contact me.

The stories are going to feature MATURE ideas and themes. This means NSFW content which isn't at all directed at minors and people who are uncomfortable with gore, addiction, abuse etc.

The core is more or less of a psychological aspect. Let's say, it's somewhat of a deep dive to issues (social, psychological etc.). Please keep in mind, the story ONLY poses questions and ONLY ATTEMPTS to find a solution. Never a right answer.

Genre: dark fantasy (feat. Slavic, Chinese and other mythologies) and folk/psychological/cosmic horror. Also comedy, especially dark comedy. And action (quite a lot of action), maybe kind of adventurous one. Only slight romance because I usually can't bring myself to like romance genre as a whole (romance here happens because I got angry at some romance stories and tropes and told myself that even I, a certified hater, can do better. A.k.a. I'm writing the romance (sub)plot out of spite).

If anyone wants to chat or share an opinion, do so in a polite and civil way.

When it comes to my grammatical skills, let me know and I'll try to make myself as clear as possible. English isn't my native language.

The story is heavily (like, HEAVILY) influenced by several already existing novels, sagas, mangas and video games (for exemple Berserk, Bloodborne or Witcher and, of course, folk stories I know). I will not deny if you'll spot certain familiarities. However, the stories and characters aren't copies of them.

I might post a design or two.

[buggyboyizhere]

whats your headcanons for yanov and yuu ? iknow you posted paul and pat but im wondering if you did those two as well

THEM RAHHH1!1!1!1!1 vine boom and loud sobbing !1!1

They’re general gist is they are so so in love and tragic and silly and and :3

If you care for some rambling it’ll be down here, and if it temps you to click on it there’s a little treat

Just noticed I forgot to add flags on the ref but the country ones were mostly to check if I slapped all the facial features I wanted onto em’ ( Also because I will not hc all the EW guys as white/British it’s truly the bare minimum to add diversity )

Hope this doesn’t read awkwardly because erm I only THINK of them, autism be damned I cannot just create simple bios it’s gotta be a biography

General :]

Height:

Yanov - 6’9

Yuu - 5’7

Gender/Pronouns:

Yanov - (Trans) Man, He/Him

Yuu - Nonbinary, Them/He/She

Sexuality:

Yanov - Gay ( MLM )

Yuu - Pansexual

How they met :D

In med school, pre RA. Yuu struggled to contain any information so him and Yanov regularly got together to study, leading to very late night conversations about themselves. Even when Yuu decided to drop out they kept in contact, Yanov occasionally sneaking them in to watch his surgeries. They both eventually got bored of their respective lives and wanted to share it ( unfortunately ) as a trauma surgeon and nurse in a bare bones rebellion ( RA ).

Their roles in the RA :>

Yanov is a trauma surgeon, he’s usually on the field or dragged into doing some weird mechanical project Tord wants help with.

Yuu is a nurse but not? I don’t know what else to describe him as, but he’s on the field helping carry soldiers to safety, or at base doing patient care when Yanov needs some extra hands.

Headcannons :3

Yanov is selectively mute, communicating through sign language or very rarely gives a one or two word answer/order/etc. It’s rooted in anxiety and just not talking is better than saying something. Yuu usually helps with shouting orders or asking for things he needs, never to speak over him but to give him a voice.

When there’s zero work to do and no one’s dying they lay back and nap to old ( 60’s-80’s ) love songs

Yuu practically begs Yanov to connect the dots between their freckles because they think it’s a sweet little reminder of him, it’s usually on her hand or arm.

Yanov writes cheesy little poems in a notebook he carries around 24/7. Yuu takes a peek in it and reads it every chance he gets, literally giggles and kicks his feet. No, Yanov has no idea they read what he writes, but he couldn’t care less if he knew that’s what she was giddy over.

Yuu has no interest in doing surgeries, discovered very quickly he can and will need to walk away and puke. They’re perfectly fine just handing over tools or taking care of the patient after it’s over. Meanwhile Yanov is crazy over it ( Cristina Yang core ), he will gently bully another surgeon into giving him a cool surgery he wants.

They’re both a good bit older than the rest of the guys, closer to their 50’s by the time the RA is well established and settled (Pat/Paul/Tord are around mid 30’s). It’s a common joke between the guys to point it out, it’s not bothersome, and they sometimes play into it. ( Also the ages are just when I think of em’ in my favorite area of the story I got going ) ( Also old man yaoi </3 )

They got into their relationship the first month of being in the RA. The feelings were mutual years before this but Yanov thought he was too busy, he’s still overwhelmed with work, but he’ll squeeze in time to relax with Yuu. In their later years Yanov decided to train more surgeons so he could spend more days with Yuu.

Yuu is :3 and Yanov is ._.

Neither of them EVER expected that zombies would ever be an issue.

Patryck and Paul are considered close and good pals, and Tord is basically the scum of the earth.

Extra non important thoughts :P

Erm I’m still writing that Pat fic and I cannot wait to write out them in a separate fic about how gut wrenching it is for them to live ( esp Yanov, yippee confetti confetti !!! )

Nyways I love em’, they’re literally my ocs at this point I’ve got like a gazillion thoughts on them

Here’s the Timelapse as a treat :3 I put down many little doodles and notes </3

[dominickeating-source]

Cult Times - Issue 77 (2001)

Reeding Between the Lines 

Enterprise star Dominic Keating unzips his flight suit and slips into something more comfortable to chat about his role as Lieutenant Malcolm Reed in Star Trek's new, exciting fifth series!

The year is 2151 some while before James T. boldly went where no man had and a few bright, inquisitive souls are paving the way for he illustrious Captain Kirk aboard their very own Enterprise. British-to-the-core actor Dominic Keating is one of the intrepid crew members striking off for stars unknown in Paramount's latest addition to the Star Trek universe.

"When I first read the breakdown for the part of Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, I thought I wouldn't be in with much of a chance," he begins. "Malcolm was written as a very buttoned down, by-the-book, tight-arsed Englishman and personally I'm not like that at all." Certainly when we speak, Keating couldn't appear further from the quintessential stiff-upper-lipped fusspot he portrays. It's American Thanksgiving and he is bursting full of the joys of the season. As well as shouting advice to his girlfriend on the best way to baste a turkey, laughing uproariously when she yells back what he can do with his instructions, at the same time he's bawling out an apology to a friend who turns up unexpectedly to invite him to trek to the infamous Hollywood sign for a bit of fresh air. "I can't, love! I have to do the veggies and talk to this nice woman from the UK. They want to hear about the show. It's very exciting."

Clearly delighted that the series is generating as much interest in his homeland as it has in his adopted land, Keating reins in his excitement enough to explain, "Given that it's an American television show, the producers had quite a strong picture of a certain type of Englishman in mind, which is why I first thought that perhaps it wasn't really my bag. I do come from 'that sort' of background and had the classic kind of public schooling but I've never wanted to be seen in that stereotypical sort of way. I was pleasantly surprised when the word came back after the first audition that I was the only guy in the frame for the role. I think they felt that because Enterprise is set in the next century they probably wanted someone a bit looser that the stereotype but with enough of that public school image still evident. I've been in the States for years but I guess that persona has stayed with me." He laughs. "It's like being Catholic. You never lose it. However, almost everything else is a real acting challenge for me."

Sarcastically, he adds, "Take this shyness with women for instance. When I read that in the breakdown, I went, Aw, s**t. I'll walk through this one then. Even my girlfriend would agree that I am at my most relaxed around the female contingent in this galaxy. Then there's the munitions thing. Malcolm is supposed to be obsessed with weaponry, but that's not me at all. Truth be known, when I was 17-amd-a-half I was considering joining the Army. My mother's side of the family is army and my grandfather fought in two World Wars; would have been knighted but he didn't get on with King George and got the OBE for his services instead. I was even an under-officer in the cadet force at school and was part of a special force called 'Tactics', so I know quite a lot about the military background from which Malcolm stems. But now, in later life, I've never fired anything other than the weapons I use in Enterprise." Bursting into laughter again, he splutters, "I get asked all these questions about guns and other weapons at conventions and all I can do is look at the fans and shrug. "Look! They're grey! What can I tell you? I have absolutely no idea."

Pretending to hang his head in shame, Keating does admit that he shares some of Lt. Reed's character traits. "I am a bit of a neat freak! Always have been. No amount of therapy seems to be able to correct the balance that is so very in keeping." Reverting to hushed tones, he whispers, "I don't like to use the words anally retentive but some ex-girlfriends might," before yelling out, "Don't print that or I'll kill you." Oops.

Keating also feels that his BA (Hons) Degree in History "came in handy because I knew how to effectively undertake the research for the character. One thing that I am always grateful for," he confides, "is my good education. I really have to thank my mother and father for giving me that. They really sacrificed a lot to make sure that I got properly schooled and I'm always indebted. As an actor, the one thing you can't learn at drama school is the years of training to make your mind work in an academic way."

Changing topics for a moment, the mercurial Mr. Keating expounds, "London was fantastic during my university years. I adored my three years as a student. I was on full maintenance grant because my father had passed away and it gave me the freedom to know the city. I ended up living in London after uni and eventually became an actor there. I still have an apartment in the Portobello Road."

Keen to go wherever the work takes him, Keating has lived all over the place, loving every minute of the nomadic life. "I spent quite some time in Vancouver and have a great relationship with that place. I went up there originally to do Poltergeist: The Legacy and liked the place so much I lived there for a little bit. The funny thing about Vancouver is that you've got to live in Los Angeles to get cast in shows in Vancouver. It's a weird conundrum. When you go for a job they'll be like, 'Oh, you're a local actor? no, we're not interested'. Then they cast in LA. So I went back there and was immediately sent back up to Canada to do The Immortal."

Just a wee bit sad to be leaving the role of malevolent madman Mallos, Keating smiles. "We shot off to Prague to film two episodes of The Immortal and it was crazy. I had my own castle, got to wear all the medieval gear and got to throw peasants to wild boar. Real ones." Wickedly insisting that no mammals were harmed during the making of the episodes, Keating goes on to say, "Actually I had a wonderful end of last year. I went to Eastern Europe with The Immortal and spent some time in Spain making 13 episodes of a show called Chromium Blue.com." In keeping with the actor's irreverent approach to life, Keating exclaims, "It's Zalman King's new gig and I play a bisexual ghost. I have no idea what the show is going to look like but it has real elements of Zalman erotica thrown in with some of the zaniest, most bizarre comedy sketches you've ever seen. Ian Abercrombie (Seinfeld) and I were cast together as Sir George, the gay butler and his dead ex-lover, the bisexual ghost. It was hilarious. We camped up a storm." Waving his wrist about, Keating lisps, "By the time I got back to LA it was pilot season again and I thought, 'Oh God! I've got to put my little black dress on and trawl around the networks.' Thankfully, along came Enterprise and put paid to all that."

Manfully accepting remarks that he might not get offered fey parts if he dressed in something other than a little black dress, the actor reels off yet another example of his effeminate experiences. "I did a play up in Edinburgh with a fantastic actor named Tim Spall. It was a comedy called Screamers and I played this apprentice who got a job at the Cut and Cum Again salon. Tim played the chief charge hand who was this deeply unattractive character with the responsibility for taking me in hand, so to speak. We had a whale of a time."

Unperturbed by the fact that he has played a few such characters, Keating is highly amused by reports that Malcolm Reed might be the first gay in Space: "I read that in the TV Guide." With superb comic timing, he chortles. "I was in the supermarket and there we all were in the front cover, so I picked it up to read and inside it said something like 'Dominic Keating, turn to page 56, who reportedly is going to be the first gay character in Star Trek.' I thought, What? I rang Brannon Braga (executive producer), who told me not to believe everything I read in print.

Very sound advice indeed! Now, about this Enterprise show. Can we believe all we read about it being the greatest thing since sliced bread? "Absolutely!" announces the actor. "You just know when something is going to work. Right from the read-through, there was a simpatico and an understanding and a generosity that has not always been apparent in some jobs I've had in the past. Scott Bakula is such a trouper. He sets the tone and makes us all feel valued and very happy. I shouldn't say this but I also have a sneaking suspicion the Rick Berman and Brannon Braga, the two executive producers, are actually extremely well-paid full-on Trekkies. They have to be. They put so much dedication and enthusiasm into this show. They don't have to do it for the money so I truly believe they love the genre and the show they make, which is why Enterprise makes such good television. I've been watching the show religiously since it started because I need to get educated. John Gielgud used to say, 'Know the style of the thing that you're in and act accordingly'. It's very important to me."

As far as the episodes are concerned, Keating has a couple of favourites. "Given the initial brief, I never thought for a moment that Malcolm would turn into an action hero, but it seems to be looking that way and I love it, although we've just finished an episode entitled The Raptor which was great, except I got the you-know-what kicked out of me by a Klingon woman."

The episode that's really dear to his heart is a 'two-hander' currently called Shuttlepod One. "I get the feeling that this is going to be the one I look back on years from now with pride and amazement. It's basically 50 pages of Connor Trinneer and me in a shuttlepod with 10 hours of air left to breathe. The script is extraordinary and it will be the first time in my acting career, in front of a camera that is, where I get to do some no-holds-barred, playing from the hip, straight talking, intense acting."

Shuttlepod One comes midway through Enterprise's first season, so we'll certainly have a while to wait as the show only started airing on Sky 1 in January. In the meantime, our beloved Mr. Keating was planning to make a triumphant return to the UK in late December. "We're coming on a press junket and I have to admit I makes my tummy go funny to think about it. One of the reasons I came to America was because I always dreamt of coming back home as part of a hugely successful television show. Returning in Enterprise is like my dream come true."

Source: www.dominickeating.com

[krikeymate]

I pity the person who becomes Chads therapist, how do you even begin to untangle the clusterfuck of his nightmares lmao.

His unresolved/unrequited feelings for his girlfriends big sister who has only ever seen him as a little brother cause she quite literally babysat him as a kid and who is incredibly protective of said little sister (having literally killed for her).

Then for that dream/fantasy situation of "cheating" with Sam to warp into being attacked by ghostface, a killer he's been dealing with for years and who actually almost killed him twice.

That therapist is gonna be in for a wild ride fr.

I really liked that drabble because of course Chads nightmares would be the type of shit he wouldn't be able to share with the rest of the core four without everybody getting cool about certain things quickly lmao.♤

I would like to formally apologise (lie) for what I put everybody through, I want you all to know, I started laughing at the second line, and then was losing my mind the entire time I wrote the rest.

The original idea for that prompt was much darker, but then I thought of Sam/Chad, and it was too funny to pass up. I might still write my original idea later on. If I remember to do so.

Chad has some psychosexual issues now, sorry about it bro. Let's analyse his dream.

As a child he had the biggest puppy crush on Sam, who was the coolest person ever! As an adult, he's gained great admiration for Sam and how she stepped up to not only protect them all but to make it up to them - and especially Tara - for the ways she hurt them. But despite how much he loves her (platonically), there's a part of him that can't deny that Sam has an anger and a power to her that scares him. The way she dispatches Ghostface... it both awes and terrifies him. On top of that, his new relationship with Tara isn't all sunshine and roses, it's not quite as perfect as he hoped it would be. There's attraction, sure, and a lot of love between them, but she's still guarded, she still won't fully let him in. It leaves him standing on the outside, trying to figure out how to get through the door she's slammed in his face.

Dreams are fun. They're suuppeer weird, and a reminder that it's just the brain processing information, it doesn't mean it's a secret desire or longing. Chad doesn't actually have any romantic or sexual feelings for Sam, the brain is just taking a bunch of key words and jumbling them together in the wrong order.

But Chad doesn't know that, and he is gonna STRESS over it. He's not looking Sam or Tara in the eye for WEEKS.