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cuubism · 22 days

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inspired by this Hope!Hob piece by @mashumaru, have a little reverse-verse fic, Hob as Hope of the Endless and human Morpheus

(reverse-verse Hope and Morpheus are my special special little guys, I wrote an extremely long fic about them before. I think about them all the time and at this point they're basically distinct from Dreamling in my mind 😂)

cw hate speech, homophobia, slurs, violence. it's pretty brief though.

At this point, Morpheus is no longer shocked to come home and find Hope sat at his kitchen table, knuckles and brow bone bloody, drinking tea as if none of that matters. It still rankles him, though. Bloody. Injured. Always.

Morpheus sets down his messenger bag in the hall with a thump and bypasses Hope entirely to go right for the first aid kit on the top shelf in the bathroom. Hope turns to watch him pass, a forlorn little look on his face. No, Morpheus tells himself, he does not get some sweet little welcome home kiss if he’s going to come back like that.

“Must you insist,” he says, as he drags the kit—packed full, always—off the bathroom shelf and trudges back into the kitchen, “on always starting fights?”

Hope pushes his half-drunk tea away, pouting. “I don’t start them!”

Morpheus sits in the chair next to him and just looks at him.

“…Okay,” Hope concedes. His lip and brow line are bruised. There’s dried blood under his nose. Morpheus wishes this wasn’t his natural state. “Sometimes I throw the first punch.”

Morpheus sighs, tearing open an alcohol swab and starting to wipe at the cut on his brow.

“…Most of the time,” Hope admits.

“Hope,” Morpheus says, exasperated, and Hope cringes.

“You know I can’t really be hurt,” he tries to explain. “I’m not human. Besides. You think I’m just beating the crap out of people for no reason?”

“No,” says Morpheus, and wipes at his split lip with perhaps more force than necessary. “I do not.”

“Besides, I don’t kill people and I don’t like when people do it around me either. It’s not about fighting, I don’t enjoy fighting. It’s about taking a stand.”

“You do enjoy fighting,” Morpheus accuses. “I have seen you.”

Hope ducks his head. “It’s not about that, though,” he insists. “Listen. You know I never really finish these things, but it’s my role to start it. To show that these battles can be fought. And that it’s worth standing up.”

“Bar fights, such a noble cause,” says Morpheus dryly, and Hope tucks his forehead into his shoulder. Morpheus can’t help himself, his hand automatically goes to the nape of Hope’s neck, fingers combing through his hair.

“You attract violence to you,” he says quietly. “I have seen it.”

Hope sighs. “Did you really think that people would like Hope? Sometimes they want to give me a hug but more often they just want to punch me in the face.”

“I thought you were meant to inspire,” Morpheus says, and it’s a little bit mocking of things Hope himself has declared in the past but Morpheus is listening.

“More like get in the way,” says Hope, his face still pressed to Morpheus’s shoulder. He sounds despondent now. Morpheus supposes people instigating fights with you simply because of your nature wouldn’t be pleasant. At least when people instigate fights with Morpheus, he’s usually done something to deserve it.

“You are not ‘in the way,’” he says. “If you are, then you are meant to be there. Like when you stepped into my path.”

“‘Least you didn’t punch me,” Hope mumbles.

“I considered it.”

Hope huffs. He pushes himself upright again, shaking his messy hair out of his eyes. He is so beautiful, even still speckled with blood and grime from the fight. Especially like that, if Morpheus is being honest with himself.

“So long as you never hated me,” Hope says. His voice is fragile now, and it hurts Morpheus’s heart. Hope is like a radiant sunbeam, and still more often than not people are only trying to throw shadows over him.

“I could never hate you,” he says, and Hope’s expression softens. Morpheus kisses him lightly on the lips. “I do not think they hate you either. You are… challenging. Just being around you… it is a confrontation in its own way. Especially for those who may have pushed you aside.”

“Even for you?” Hope says.

“Especially for me,” Morpheus tells him. He leans his cheek against Hope’s, overcome with fondness. Fondness that is greater for how frustrating Hope has been to him over the years, during those times of darkness. “It is how you saved me.”

“You saved you,” Hope says firmly. “But if I helped, then I’m glad.”

“Always.” Morpheus kisses the hinge of his jaw. “What would I do without you?”

“Now you’re just coming on to me.”

Morpheus hums, not disagreeing.

“Admit it,” Hope says, tangling fingers in Morpheus’s hair. “You’re into it. When I come home all bloody.”

“Mm. I am not.”

“Oh, you are. I can tell.”

Morpheus skates a hand up along his thigh. “Hm. Perhaps it makes you seem very fierce.” He kisses Hope’s mouth this time, swipes his tongue soothingly over his split lip, tasting just the tantalizing hint of blood. Leans in and—

“Ow!”

Morpheus pulls back, raising an eyebrow. Hope looks sheepish, pressing his hand to his nose, which Morpheus had bumped. Hope’s non-human body will heal quickly, but for now his nose remains at least partially broken.

Morpheus keeps giving him an unimpressed look. “I see you are gravely wounded.” Hope catches him by the hair before he can truly pull away, and he smiles. “I suppose… I will have to ply my mouth elsewhere. If you promise to be more careful.”

“For such a reward I’d promise anything,” Hope swears, and Morpheus obligingly sinks down, hands on Hope’s thighs. It is hardly a hardship.

“You do like this,” Hope swears. “Don’t try to pretend. You’re so transparent.”

“Perhaps you once punched a man in the face on my behalf, and perhaps I found it titillating,” Morpheus says, and Hope laughs. “Is it terrible if I wanted you to break his nose? Perhaps I am terrible. You do look appealing with blood on your hands. If it is not your own.”

Even Hope’s own torn, bruised knuckles do stir something in Morpheus, a fierce pride and terrible heat. But he worries for him also.

“Liar,” Hope crows, gleeful, “hypocrite. Terrible lecturer. You love it. You know you do.”

“Do not get yourself horribly maimed in a bar fight,” Morpheus orders. “However…” he takes one of Hope’s hands, kisses his knuckles, lets his lips linger there for a moment. “If you must be righteous and full of passion, then I will soothe your injuries later, oh knight of promise.”

“Terrible incentive, now I’m going to get worse,” Hope says. He caresses Morpheus’s cheek, thumbs at the corner of his mouth. His look on Morpheus is so fond, always. Then he says, “Alright, darling, for you, I’ll be careful.”

“Thank you.” Morpheus leans his face against Hope’s thigh, lets Hope play with his hair. In a moment he will indeed ply his mouth upon Hope’s body as promised, in a moment he will indulge the spark that Hope’s fierceness lights within him. But for this moment, he just stays close to him, a gentle valley in the topography of Hope’s violence. Morpheus has never been gentle for anyone before. He finds he likes it.

Hope leans down, smiling, and kisses the top of his head.

Morpheus does not like to be “out and about.” In fact, he generally detests it. But Hope likes to be out among people and Morpheus likes to be with Hope, so sometimes he goes. Besides, he likes to see Hope happy.

The White Horse is a safe space for them, anyway. Morpheus does not feel so uncomfortable there as he does at other crowded, loud establishments. He sits in his usual corner seat at the bar, nursing a drink and working on his writing, leaning lightly against Hope’s shoulder as Hope chats with whomever has come up to him now. He tends to attract people wherever he goes. Fortunately, no one has tried to start a fight, this time.

Hope leans in close to his ear. “Get some air with me?”

Morpheus smirks. Inevitably, getting some air will turn into Hope pushing him up against a wall and kissing him senseless. He is hardly opposed to that series of events.

Cold air washes over him as Hope leads him out to the back garden, around the corner to a private spot in the alley by the inn. It makes his hands feel even warmer as he takes Morpheus by the hips, leans him up against the wall as expected, thumbs stroking over his hip bones under his shirt. Morpheus smiles to himself.

“Did you get bored?” he teases.

Hope kisses his cheek, then his jaw, leans in close to his ear. “Hardly. You know my mind is always on you no matter what. But you were being so patient.” He tugs on Morpheus’s ear, then goes to his throat, kissing along his pulse. “How could I not reward my darling?”

“Knowing that I am the one you will go home with is its own reward,” Morpheus murmurs. He trails a hand up Hope’s back, pulls him close so their bellies are pressed together. “So many of those people in there want you. I see it. But they do not know that you are already taken.” It makes him feel privileged. And hungry.

Hope laughs. “Possessive little bastard.”

“Yes.” Hope is so radiant. To be the one chosen by him… it makes Morpheus’s soul sing. “You are mine. I am yours.”

“Yours,” Hope agrees. With that he moves to Morpheus’s lips and kisses him deep. Morpheus hums in pleasure, opens his mouth to him. Tastes the beer lingering on his tongue. Sinks into the press of Hope’s fingers on his hips, and—

“In public? Disgusting.”

Hope pulls away from him, and Morpheus grumbles in displeasure. Hope turns to the mouth of the alley, where a strange man is standing, expression of, indeed, disgust on his face.

When they don’t respond, the man steps closer until he's almost in their space. Hope’s jaw clenches but, perhaps remembering how Morpheus had chastised him for always getting into fights, he doesn’t yet react.

“Can we help you?” Morpheus asks. Not politely.

“By taking that somewhere else,” says the strange man. His tone is aggressive. And most of his attention seems to be on Hope, rather than Morpheus, which Morpheus doesn’t like. Morpheus has noticed before that Hope’s presence inspires ire to jump to action as often as it inspires positivity and good works. But this is the first time he has seen such outright aggression.

Maybe some people really do hate Hope.

“Mind your own business,” says Hope, stiffly.

“You fags shouldn’t be allowed out in public, it’s an insult to respectable people.” He’s still primarily looking at Hope, and it's hard to say if it's because he is the one who looks more traditionally masculine between the two of them, or if it is because of the inherent draw of Hope as an Endless. “Should fuck a real woman instead of that.”

Hope takes a quick step forward at the man’s words, expression hard.

“Hope—” Morpheus starts. Do not get yourself hurt again, he means to say. As much as I enjoy you defending our honor I also like you well. For Hope may have supernatural qualities that prevent him from dying but he is not invulnerable. His powers lie in his empathy, his charisma. Emotion and community. But he takes a punch like any other man. Comes home to Morpheus with a black eye like anyone else would.

Hope stops sharply as if caught on a leash. And Morpheus immediately regrets speaking, for the other man crows in victory.

“What are you, his little bitch? You a man or not?”

Hope flinches despite himself. Not, Morpheus thinks, because he cares so much about a stranger’s sense of masculinity, but because he prides himself on being able to handle himself. On being able to defend his lover. On being able to stand on his own feet after being broken down into shards by his imprisonment.

Morpheus often feels anger, is too quick to it even, but he does not often act on it with violence. It is not so much that he disapproves of violence as that he dislikes the attention associated with causing a scene, and, being rather slight, is usually at a disadvantage in any physical confrontation besides. Cutting words are his weapons instead.

But watching Hope shrink back, the hurt that flashes over him—a terrible spark jumps inside Morpheus. Hope is stronger, is better, than any person he knows. Has been through hell and come out of it still with more empathy than Morpheus has ever possessed in his life. Morpheus will not watch him made small.

He steps forward and punches the man square in the nose.

He hears a crunch. He’s not sure if it’s the nose, or his own knuckles. The man wheels back with a shriek, clutching his bleeding nose, and Morpheus stumbles back, too, shaking out his hand.

Hope has his hands over his mouth in shock, eyes wide. “Holy shit.” When he drops his hands, he’s grinning. “Holy shit.”

Holy shit indeed. Morpheus watches the man scamper off down the alley, casting one last dark look back at them. His hand hurts, he might have broken it—but the adrenaline pumping through his veins is much louder. He can’t quite believe he did that.

“How’d that feel?” Hope asks. He is a terrible influence sometimes. Always roping Morpheus into doing terrible things, like wanting to live.

A smile tugs at Morpheus’s lips. “It felt… good.”

“Yeah?” He’s still grinning madly. “Let me see your hand.”

Morpheus shows him. Hope prods gently at his knuckles, and winces.

“That’s gonna hurt for a while,” he says. “Your punching technique is terrible.” He kisses Morpheus’s hand anyway.

“Now you understand how I feel when you come home bloodied,” Morpheus says.

Hope’s eyes are sparkling. He does not seem like he’s learned a lesson from that at all. “Oh, I do.” He leans in close, presses his lips to the corner of Morpheus’s mouth. “You were…” his voice is a low hum, “incredible.”

“Do I get a reward?” Morpheus asks dryly, though his breath quickens at Hope’s proximity, the heat in his voice.

“For defending my honor? Anything.” He takes Morpheus’s uninjured hand. He smiles. He’s altogether too excited about Morpheus punching someone. Which only makes Morpheus want to do it again. Terrible influence, Hope. “Come home, and I’ll show you.”

But Morpheus catches him when Hope starts to tug him away. “Here.”

Hope raises an eyebrow at him, but he does look… interested. “Something to prove?”

Morpheus draws him close again, leans back against the wall so Hope is caging him in. “Perhaps I simply want you, and I do not care who knows about it.”

He touches low on Hope’s belly, his hand hidden between their bodies. He is not willing to truly expose them—though they are somewhat sequestered in the alley at the moment—but to play with the idea is… arousing. He wants Hope to touch him. Here, in their place. After Morpheus has hurt someone for him.

He cannot blame Hope for this. Morpheus is just a terrible influence upon himself.

“Menace,” Hope chuckles. “You’ve no high ground left, you know that, right? You’ve obliterated it.”

“I never did,” Morpheus says, as Hope lets him draw him in and kisses along his neck. “Always you have been the better of us.”

“In terms of exhibitionism, maybe,” Hope says. Even now, he won’t let Morpheus truly criticize himself. “I could be persuaded, though.”

With that, he slots their lips together. Sucks on Morpheus’s lower lip as he pushes him harder against the wall, Morpheus’s back scraping the brick. Morpheus groans, pulls him close by his hips so Hope’s swiftly-hardening erection is pressed against his, and Hope’s breath hitches against his mouth.

“Should I give you a proper reward?” Hope murmurs.

“Yes,” Morpheus breathes. “Hope—”

He loves Hope so much. He wants Hope so much.

“Vicious little thing, I love you so,” Hope says. And then, in the darkened alley by their favorite place, with his hands and mouth and the weight of his body and his devotion, he goes about showing Morpheus just how much.

#this has been sitting almost finished in my drafts for months...#dreamling #my writing #hope of the endless #hope x morpheus #cw homophobia #writing hate speech even for the purposes of the story (morpheus getting to punch someone) feels so fucking CRINGE like can you imagine #behaving like that. i think instead of countering hate speech with logic we should just start cringing at people like oh my god you talk #like that? 😬 cringe. you kiss your mother with that mouth? wow. everybody point and laugh at this idiot. the power of public shaming #anyway if it sounds super fucking cringe in the fic i apologize 😂

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xbraveheartx · 6 months

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Suddenly smacked in the face by the implication of Romeo's message where he says "I remember you, so there's no reason for us to fight. I suppose."

I always thought the wording was weird, but didn't think too much on it... Until recently after we discussed some datamined stuff in the Carmeo/Promeo server. There's a scrapped line (where P was supposed to speak) that says "I may not remember, but I'm still your son" during the NP fight, and while the scrapped lines are their own can of worms, let's focus on the memory parts.

I had always thought that once a puppet woke up, they would just get their memories back. But the fact seems to be this: There are select memories that come back to give bits and pieces of their past that "wake" them up-- cause them to change, as we see with P and the necklace; As we see from the spliced memories at the Black Seaside. However, it might not be all one's memories that come back. Whether those spaces stay blank or come back over time, who knows.

What I'm trying to get at here is...

Romeo's memories might only consist of Carlo at the time of waking. Carlo was what woke Romeo-- "I remember you"-- He had the necklace, he knew from who it was; He recognized the face P was modeled after. "So there's no reason for us to fight, I suppose"-- there's a lack of confidence in the wording here. Friends aren't supposed to fight, right? That's what his memory tells him, at least.

And the only memories P tends to get in regards to his past? Those in relation to Romeo, his aspirations, and of his own death. Seemingly, these are the things most important to him.

They were the most important people to each other; They remembered each other, just one too late than the other.

#Lies of P #Lies of P Spoilers #The “I may not remember” part hit me like a sack of BRICKS before I went to bed and I was like #“Oh shit oh fuck oh shit wait what oh sHIT--” fhsddfd I was way too invested in everything else at the time #and then that hit me. And then Romeo's message hit me. And the necklace flavor text and his ergo flavor text.#And I just went-- “Does Romeo... JUST remember things relating to Carlo?... Would he.. not remember other specific stuff?”#And it all crashed down on me and I suddenly had to draft the thought real quick on my phone before sleeping on it adhdfs #But wow. Yeah. I. It makes sense?? Like... maybe they don't remember everything at all just bits and pieces. Or maybe they do with time.#Both paths are good and interesting tbh I should...incorporate that in my stuff~ mmmMMMMMMM VERY COOL TO THINK ABOUT #and painful. So and so painful uGH I LOVE THEM

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virgothozul · 2 years

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I love this show ! And it’s now on netfliko apparently ?? Please stream this gem

#oh wow so apparently this has been sitting in my tumblr drafts forever #surprising idk #lazy in space #bee & puppycat #bee and puppycat #so soothing and comforting #and bittersweet too

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a-wondering-thought · 10 days

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Do you ever just read a post about something in life, maybe about a small beauty or kind strangers or someone expressing their feelings about their love for life or a million others and just think like "woah, you captured the beauty of that thing perfectly, you put this enchanted feeling i get when thinking about this into words" yeah.. because i'll love those posts forever

#i hord these posts in my drafts #*side eyes the 106 drafts that have been piling up even after i cleaned out 300 in december*#also hiii!!#wow this is probably the longest ixve gone without posting #(i mean it was only actually a couple of days)#anyway #i missed you!!#im watching past lives rn and i can just *tell* im going to sob by the end #this is going to be one of my favourite movies ever #it feels so real #the love thats shown in it #its quiet love #its like love irl #i love it sm its making my heart so happy to see #sam screams into the void #O'wonderings of writing #oh im also listening to chappel roan all day #good luck babe hits the best part of my brain

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note-boom · 4 months

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I still will never understand that comment by Asagiri saying that Dazai was the best thing to happen to Akutagawa when even Dazai himself doesn't believe that. I mean, from what I heard, the BEAST novel does a pretty good job in showing that Dazai knew Akutagawa would thrive and do better under people like Odasaku and Kunikida, right? Dazai throwing Atsushi at Akutagawa and kind of evading saying anything to Akutagawa sometimes did make me wonder if he was trying to force the boy from dependency on Dazai's approval (though, I also do believe Dazai doesn't fully want let go of his control over Akutagawa, which is another can of worms)

I mean, yes, Dazai wants to control Akutagawa, but I also think he knows objectively (not self-deprecatingly) that he just...wasn't good for him asides from the whole sort-of-saving-his-life thing. What I'm saying is that the relationship between the mentors and mentees of BSD are more complicated than saying "he/she was 100% good/bad for them" but also that generally we do see a progression of growth for the mentor with each "student" they take under their wing. In this essay

#i have thoughts but not enough TIME #but oh well....#i mean of course it might just be translation #anyway sorry for continuing to obsess over that comment #part of me also wants to do a separate analysis taking asagiri as word of god and all and trying to find a way to make it fit #(i do enjoy doing that too tbh)#but for now have my half-thought out nonsense #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd akutagawa #character analysis #bsd musings #spitting nonsense #oh wow i found this in drafts and i was really fired up XDDD #dont know how accurate this is now but into the queue it goes anyway

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vinillain · 2 years

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Council wip (yes, again)

(Massive 7 month glow up tbh)

#my autism creatures….#wow what a nice group of siblings #hope nothing bad happens to them…#It’s almsot 2am and this is what I’m doing with my life.#oh and a fic about Qilby and Yugo but now I have to go back and change shit because it’s the rough draft 😒#I LIKE THE ELIATROPE BUTTONS IF YOU COULDN’T TELL #wakfu #wip #eliatrope council #wakfu glip #wakfu mina #wakfu chibi #wakfu qilby #wakfu yugo #wakfu nora

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lovesickeros · 2 months

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im about to be so insufferable for the rest of the month someone put me down before I get the chance to start talking

#misc #shaking foaming at the mouth gnawing at the bars of my cage ARLECCHINO.......#coming back full force to be obnoxiously gay for her bc oh great heavens #the stare ovrr the shoulder i need her to break me in half like a glowstick immediately #suddenly my drafts r completely empty now wow its so. funny how thay works. huh.#genshin impact out for blood she was made for lesbians good lord

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feldsparite · 11 days

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right see sumi and goro can actually be really good foils to sophia and zenkichi respectively. sumi and sophia both deal with issues of personhood and identities, and exist in relation to their sisters, who are superior/better to them in some capacity. the way sumi elevates her sister into a perfect being similar to that of a god via her own desires, while emma is a delusional god created from the masses' desires is also interesting. there's also the whole aspect of sumi denying herself vs sophie trying to learn who she is. their insecurities are also pretty similar. there can even be something about the parallels in their relationships with maruki/ichinose, and how their rejection of them is a key turning point in their arcs

goro and zenkichi are both morally grey detective/ law enforcement adjacent characters who are framed through opposite trajectories throughout the course of their respective games. they're both habitually untruthful, and are themed around justice- both having a somewhat idealistic and naive view of right/wrong despite being cynics. they're also both being used in some way- which they put up with for their own agendas. there's similar motivations of revenge in their arcs too, fuelled by a similar pent up destructive rage. huge parts of their characters revolve around family, and there's something intriguing in exposing Final Boss of Daddy Issues Goro Akechi to Solid B-Tier Father, Takes Better Care Of Random Teenagers Than Own Child Zenkichi Hasegawa

...aaaand end post! great! now time to say i haven't played royal btw i'm just saying words recreationally. Teehee (*´ω｀*)✧

#hasegawa hell #I PROMISE YOU. THE CHARACTER INTERACTIONS ARE THERE. THEY'RE RIGHT THERE!!!!#but instead i get tsundere akechi goes growly mode at zenkichi because he was mean to his boyfriend 🥰🥰🥰 (BORING!!!!!)#oh wow this post has been rotting in my drafts for 2 months..... ok you guys can look at it now

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youngpettyqueen · 2 months

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Hi! So I feel selfish since I've already requested a fic from you, but since you posted that new prompt list, could you please do #10 from The Comforter list? I don't care who says it as long as they are saying it to Julian! ❤️

anon I love youuuu <333 never be shy about asking me for fics I will happily take 695876934 requests from you

so 10 from the comforter list is... "You're only going to make it worse by not resting." and I love that and I love it applied to Julian

I decided to spread the Miles/Keiko/Julian agenda with this one- hope that's alright! this is set sometime nebulously before Keiko's pregnancy with Kirayoshi, so sometime in s3 maybe?

anyways! please enjoy <3

It was only a matter of time before something like this happened.

The station's been dealing with an outbreak of Bajoran Red Fever. It's a nasty sickness, not fatal in most cases, but it can be pretty dangerous for younger children. It's also a pain in the ass to try to kick; the main symptoms being sky-high fever, dizziness and severe weakness, nausea, and some nasty joint pain. Luckily for the non-Bajoran occupants of DS9, it's a disease that really only affects Bajorans. There have only been a handful of non-Bajorans who have ever caught the diseases.

Unluckily, Julian is one of those non-Bajorans.

"How'd he even get it?" Miles asks, still trying to wrap his head around this whole thing, "I thought non-Bajoran cases were something like one in a million- that's what he was always saying, at least."

Nurse Jabara, wearing a face mask over her mouth and nose, gives a tired shrug as she rubs her temple. "The odds were slim, but not impossible. If I had to guess, I'd say the constant, repeated exposure on top of not nearly enough rest probably did it," She pinches the bridge of her nose, grimacing like she has a headache, "Whatever the case, he has it."

Keiko looks up from where she's checking the medkit Jabara gave her. "You said he fainted, right?" She asks. Jabara nods, so she follows up, "Did he hurt himself? Do we have to worry about, I don't know, a concussion? Anything like that?"

"No," Jabara confirms, and Keiko breathes a sigh of relief, "Lucky for him, Nurse T'Strei has great reflexes, and caught him before he fell. Speaking of which, she's probably not having a great time trying to keep him in bed," She gives Miles a look that is so, so very tired, "We've had patients coming in all morning. You can imagine how he's taking being laid up."

"Say no more," Miles doesn't need to imagine- he knows Julian will be about beside himself, "We'll take him off your hands. You said those shots you gave us will protect us from the fever?" He checks.

"You're as close to immune as you can be," Jabara nods, "There's one in there for Molly, too, just in case you can't keep her away from him. Believe me, asking your family to do this wasn't my first choice, but we aren't exactly blessed with options," She sighs, "Everybody who is resistant to the fever is busy working overtime to make up for everybody who's down with it, and I can't put him with anybody who's susceptible to infection. Commander Dax tried to insist, but joined Trill can contract the fever, and it could be deadly to her and the symbiont, and-"

"Jabara," Keiko steps in, places a gentle hand on the nurse's arm to stop her rambling, "It's ok. We'll take care of him." She reassures her.

Jabara pauses. Takes a deep breath. "Thank you," She breathes, "It's been... certainly one of the longer mornings of my career. Let me take you to him before T'Strei decides to sedate him." She says.

"If she hasn't already." Miles cracks, which earns him a nudge in the ribs from Keiko.

They follow after Jabara as she leads them further into the infirmary. It's pretty busy, mostly full of Bajorans, and all of them are masked up. The only people not masked up are non-Bajorans, though Miles notices that a few of the human staff are wearing masks. Probably since their human Chief Medical Officer went and got himself infected.

Speaking of the devil, it doesn't take long to find him. They just have to follow the sound of the arguing.

"This is hardly necessary."

"You are not presently fit to deem what is necessary."

Jabara stops, and gestures for them to go ahead into a separate area. Miles and Keiko both nod to her, and continue on.

Miles has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the scene they walk into. Because, sure, he's worried about Julian. Of course he is. But it's also very funny to see Julian lying on a biobed, with T'Strei sitting beside him and effortlessly keeping him pinned down to said bed with one hand on his chest.

"I have patients," Julian is insisting, even though he looks half-dead himself, "I have to finish my morning rounds, and then I need to-"

"If you can push me off," T'Strei cuts in, sounding like she's said this a million times over, "Then you can go."

"That is so not fair." Julian pouts.

Miles decides now is the moment to clear his throat and announce his presence. Both Julian and T'Strei look over at him, though he directs his attention to Julian. "Julian," He says, crossing his arms over his chest, "Are you disobeying doctor's orders?"

"Yes." T'Strei replies flatly.

"I'm the doctor," Julian huffs, indignant, "I give the orders."

"Which you are not following," T'Strei points out. She looks at Miles, "I assume you both are here to collect him?" She asks.

Keiko steps closer. "We are," She confirms. She's got a much more gentle touch than T'Strei and Miles do, bless her, as she goes and puts a gentle hand on Julian's cheek, "Nurse Jabara called us. How are you feeling?" She asks.

It's like a magic trick- Miles watches as all the defiance drains right out of Julian's expression, melted away by the simple touch of Keiko's hand. With all his defiance goes all his energy, and all the colour in his face. God, he looks awful- pale under his skin, and his eyes too-bright with fever.

"I'm alright," Julian tells Keiko, in a raspy voice that's anything but alright, "Honestly, Keiko, you didn't need to come."

Miles and T'Strei exchange a can you believe this bullshit look.

"Liar," Keiko accuses gently. She brings her hand up to his forehead, presses the backs of her knuckles against his pale skin, "You're burning up, Julian. You're not well. You need rest." She insists.

"Which is exactly what you're gonna get," Miles puts in, stepping over to join Keiko at Julian's bedside, "You're comin' home with us. That way, we can keep an eye on you. Make sure you actually get some rest, which we all know you're not gonna be gettin' in here." He explains.

"Oh, I- I couldn't ask you to do that," Julian says, looking as pathetic as a puppy in the rain, "I could get you sick, and what about Molly? I couldn't-"

"We got our shots done," Miles interrupts, "And we have one for Molly, too. So, no arguing," He looks up at T'Strei, "We can take him from here, Lieutenant. We'll get him outta your hair."

"Human expression." Julian says quietly, as T'Strei frowns at the statement. Then she nods, and takes her hand away, stepping back to let Miles and Keiko each grab an arm and gently ease Julian up into a sitting position.

"Thank you, Chief," T'Strei bids, "Mrs. O'Brien," She nods to Keiko, "If he gives you any trouble, do not hesitate to call. I can be available for assistance very quickly." She gives Julian a pointed look as she says that last part.

"I'm sure we can handle him," Keiko says as they get Julian off the biobed and onto wobbly legs. Miles is inclined to agree with her, considering Julian's already leaning heavily into his shoulder, the act of standing up apparently a significant drain on his energy, "C'mon, Julian, let's get you home. I've got everything you need right here." She shows him the medkit.

"Computer," Miles summons, seeing no point in dragging Julian through the long walk, "Three to transport to Chief O'Brien's quarters. Energize."

Miles wraps his arm tight around Julian's waist to hold him upright through the transport. One second they're in the infirmary, the next they're in the living room. Julian sways slightly, wobbling, and Keiko puts a hand on his chest to help steady him.

"Easy does it, Julian," She murmurs, starting to guide him towards the couch, "You poor thing, what made you think you could work like this? You're barely standing." She admonishes, her voice laced with concern.

Julian doesn't answer until they get him sitting down. He doesn't so much lean back as he does fall back against the cushions, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "I had patients," He mumbles, blinking a few times- dizzy, probably, "I couldn't just leave them."

Miles takes a seat beside him. Keiko does the same thing on his other side. "You've got a perfectly competent medical staff who are more than capable of runnin' the ship while you're away," He points out, "How long have you been sick? Honestly. Cause somehow I doubt this started today." He hasn't actually seen Julian in days. Their usual holosuite date got cancelled due to the outbreak, so he hasn't been able to keep an eye on him.

Julian frowns, squinting as he thinks. "I don't know," He replies, and he sounds like he means it, "Maybe a couple days ago. It's... hard to keep track." He admits.

Keiko gently rubs her hand up and down his arm. "Julian," She says, in that soft voice of hers that could melt ice, "When was the last time you slept?" She asks.

There's the million dollar question. That's always the first thing Julian starts to go without- sleep. Like he thinks he's superhuman, and can just keep on going without it. Miles has known him to go days at a time without a wink of shuteye. He wouldn't be surprised if this is one of those times.

Julian looks at Keiko. "I don't know," He tells her, his voice very quiet, "I... I honestly don't know."

Even Miles can't keep up his usual attitude when Julian's like this. He sounds so goddamn tired and he looks even worse, with those big doe eyes of his all sad and pathetic.

"It's alright, Julian," He finds himself saying, a whole lot softer than he usually is, "Molly's got a big party all day, she won't be back till tomorrow. So you'll have plenty of time to catch up on your sleep here." He gives his hand a reassuring pat.

"You're only going to make it worse by not resting," Keiko adds, bringing her hand up to his cheek, "I know resting doesn't come easy to you, but promise me you'll at least try, ok?" She rubs her thumb affectionately over his cheekbone, "Promise me you'll let us take care of you?" She implores him.

Miles knows this game of Keiko's well. Nobody is immune to it. He's over here melting, and he's not even her target. Sure enough, Julian is cracking a smile. A small one, weak and watery, but a smile nonetheless.

"That's cheating," He accuses, his voice gone soft, "You know I can't say no when you do that."

Keiko gives him a smile of her own, a smile that could rival a sunrise. "That's exactly why I do it." She teases. Then she leans in, and gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

If Julian's face wasn't already flushed with fever, he's certainly blushing now, his cheeks going deep cherry red. "Miles." He says.

"Yeah?" Miles asks.

"I'm running away with your wife." Julian informs him, which makes Keiko snort and laugh.

"Not without me, you're not," Miles chuckles, giving Julian a playful nudge, careful to keep it light so he doesn't accidentally knock him over, "You can try that once you're all better. Until then, I'm not lettin' you outta my sight till you're better, ya hear?"

Julian looks over at him, still blushing, still smiling. "Loud and clear," He hums, "Do you have a kiss to go with that statement, or do I have to ask Keiko for another?"

Miles rolls his eyes. Keiko giggles. "At least you can still be obnoxious," He huffs. Even so, he does lean in and give Julian a quick peck on the temple, "There. Only cause you're sick." He tells him.

Julian's smile broadens into something resembling a grin. "You love me." He teases.

"Yes," Keiko leans in, gives Julian another kiss, this one landing high on his cheekbone, "We love you. And because we love you, we're going to take care of you," She gives Julian's shoulder a pat, "So you just lay back, and let us do the worrying for once, alright?"

Julian looks between them. And it's a subtle shift, but that mischievous grin softens, and turns into something much more affectionate and sincere. "I love you, too." He says to both of them, all sap and sweetness.

"Yeah, you're alright." Miles says, which gets him a laugh from Julian and an indignant swat from Keiko. What can he say, he's never been the best with all this sappy stuff.

Besides, they both know how he feels. He doesn't have to say it. He's never had to say it. They just know.

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queer-reader-07 · 3 months

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screaming crying throwing up i was all vulnerable and shit in my writer's reflection and my prof was kind and supportive in return

#i'm so bad at being a Human With Emotions oh my god #like my calc or chem profs can tell me i did a good job on a problem and i'm like 'wow! look at me math!'#but my english prof tells me she's proud that i was brave and wrote about something i cared deeply about and i'm like 'AAA HUMAN EMOTION NO'#she hasn't even read the final draft of my essay yet and i'm SCARED #i'm sure it'll be fine she liked the rough draft but still #anxiety is a bitch #personal #tumblr essay #unfortunately not stem major shenanigans

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klanced · 9 months

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What’s everyone’s favorite part of the Katie Klanced 2023 renaissance? Mine is when she replied to a msg of mine over a year after I sent it, and that how I found out she was back. Iconic 💖👍

🫥

#sometimes I answer asks that are several years old. this is usually because I drafted a response ages ago & am only just now posting it djeb #anon u are lucky I’m stuck staying up for another thirty minutes while I wait for the star rail update.#oh wow this emoji is completely different on my computer. it looks like an amoeba #ask #anonymous

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spellshite · 1 month

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POV: you got the Bad Ending for Hrodak and he turned into the Chosen of Bhaal.

If you were trying to redeem him but failed, congrats: roll for initiative.

If you were following the evil route, congrats: you have now a strong ally but he'll take control of the Netherbrain for Bhaal.

#durge: hrodak #my gif edit #my bg3 oc #bg3 durge #it's half past 1am i shouldn't be here making gifsets #oh wow i made these at 1.30am then accidentally put them in the drafts before going to sleep lmao #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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brutal-nemesis · 7 months

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YWDaC: Maybe It’s Not So Fun After All

Hiii here is part 2 of pirate shenanigans I’ll probably do one more to finish this out but it probably won’t be for a while cuz I have some other stuff I wanna work on so enjoy for now ✨

←Previous - Castys Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: pirate battle, wood splinters in a guy, stitches

The next few weeks were truly a learning experience, and also just an experience. Castys learned far more than he ever thought there was to know about ropes and knots and wind and how to clean things, all while his back slowly hurt less and less. He hadn’t even been whipped that much, but it was still super unfun as an experience, enough to motivate him to be a good little pirate. Well, more like a sailor, they hadn’t done any pirate activities since he was so kindly given a spot on the crew.

And of course when battle did come, he wished he could go right back to the peaceful days of hard labor and yelling.

Kamon had been teaching him to use a sword during their free time, since Castys’s spear wasn’t well suited for combat aboard a crowded ship, but before he even got a chance to use it, the ships had to fire their cannons at each other a bunch. It was loud, somehow way louder than he’d been expecting, and his arms burned from carrying ammunition up from the hold. By the time the fun part started, he was already gonna be exhausted, just great.

His new orders were to take supplies up to the main deck, and he was somehow surprised that there was even more chaos and yelling up here than down below. They were getting pretty close to the other ship now, and it was probably almost time to board them and steal all their shit, which he was actually excited for. Mainly the stealing part.

Just as he set the crate down, there was a loud crack next to him, and his body lit up with all these sharp little pains, like…he looked down, and he was indeed covered in splinters. They were a wonderful variety of sizes, from tiny little ones that weren’t even making him bleed to ones that were as long as his hand, but the worst one had poked completely through his fucking cheek, filling his mouth with the taste of wood and blood, which was a weird combination. Ears ringing, he stumbled away from the destroyed railing, and was just about to start pulling the splinters out before he remembered the medic’s stern warning to not pull splinters out yourself. So he had a cheek piercing for now, hooray.

Before he’d made it back belowdecks, Captain Izogie called for everyone to get ready to board, so nevermind to hauling stuff. Castys pulled out the sword he’d been given, the weight still feeling a little unnatural, but it was all he was gonna get. He saw some dudes climbing up the rigging and swinging over on ropes, but he’d rather just wait and walk over on the plank like a normal person. Was boarding another ship a normal person thing? Okay, really, swinging looked fun, but he didn’t feel like climbing when he was full of holes that were full of wood. Also he didn’t trust himself to land without breaking something.

And then it was his turn to cross the plank, running so he didn’t have time to look down and think about falling into the cold ocean, jumping down into the chaos of the fight, trying his best to weave through the clashing metal and warm spurts of blood, and suddenly he was face-to-face with someone, someone he didn’t recognize, and he raised his sword, but just as he was about to swing he remembered that he’d never fought another human, not for real, and he couldn’t help but hesitate, and they didn’t, they swung, he only jumped back at the last second, it was them or him, he had to fight, remember what he’d learned, remember what it felt like to slice through flesh and hear screams, and it was more familiar once he did it, coming back to him now, his grip steady as he jumped over the body and moved on, belowdecks, rummaging around for valuables, helping his crewmates pry crates open and carry them back to the ship, the wood almost slipping out of his hands, when did they get slick with blood, he wasn’t sure, it was all a haze of back and forth, up and down, fight and slash and stab and dodge and search and carry and he almost walked back across the plank onto the now-sinking ship, all of its contents plundered, all of its crew dead.

The fight was over, and everything hurt.

With shaky hands, he tried to put his sword back in its scabbard, but someone stopped him. “Clean your blade, newbie. And then go see the doc. You look like shit.” Castys nodded, wiping the blood from his sword with his shirt before sheathing it and stumbling belowdecks. Maybe he’d get less of a share of the treasure this way, but at the moment he didn’t care. He just wanted the damn splinters out. And the gash in his arm probably needed stitches, which were always his favorite.

He found Alfyn’s quarters without much trouble, having been there before after he’d been flogged on his first day. The healer was busy tending to people with more pressing wounds, so Castys just sat on the floor and watched. Alfyn’s healing magic was so strange to watch, the way he could just hold his hands out and make flesh rejoin the other flesh super unfamiliar to Castys. Neither of them could use magic back on the islands, so the whole concept was sorta new to him, especially this weird healing stuff. His fingers teased with the splinter through his cheek, wiggling it against his tongue. It would be kinda funny to pull it out and then try to squirt water out of the hole in his cheek, but that would require pulling it out and then finding water and also someone who would think he was funny, which sounded like a lot, so he settled for fucking with it and waiting for Alfyn.

By the time he got to him, Alfyn’s nose was plugged with a rag that was either completely soaked in blood or just red, but maybe it was red because it had been soaked in blood before. He looked Castys up and down, and Castys showed off his arm gash since it was very painful. Alfyn nodded, beckoning Castys to stand. “Nothing you’ve got’s pressing enough to use my magic on, but I’ll still get you fixed up. You’re…Castys, right?”

“That’s my name.” Castys sat on the little table, the spots of blood on it soaking into his pants, which kind of sucked, but what wasn’t dirty on this ship, anyway? “So why can’t I take out the splinters myself?”

Alfyn laughed a little, coming back over with tweezers and a metal bucket that had a bunch of other splinters in it. “I don’t trust you lot to get them out completely. If you do it wrong, little bits can get left behind.” He then started pulling out Castys’s splinters the right way, which seemed to be to do it slow and to use tweezers, but Castys could be wrong since he was a little distracted by all of his little wounds hurting all over again. Alfyn did the one in his cheek last, and once it was out Castys poked at the hole left behind with his tongue despite the pain, which got a sigh out of Alfyn instead of a laugh.

“Please don’t make the wound worse, Castys.”

“Sorry.” He was then a very still and patient and well-behaved boy while Alfyn cleaned all of his wounds, arm gash included. Whatever liquid Alfyn was pouring on everything stung a lot, but he sat still so he didn’t make things more difficult for Alfyn, who looked really damn tired now that Castys was paying attention.

“Alright, your arm and cheek are going to need stitches, so please keep holding still like you’ve been doing.”

“They used to call me statue boy.” Kind of funny considering the time he almost did get turned into a statue, but that was a joke for just him. He clenched his fists and Alfyn approached with the needle and thread. He’d been through this more than once, he’d be fine, it was all things he’d felt before. The sensation of the needle poking into his skin, the tug of thread following behind, the hand on his chin…

“Hold still.”

“I’m trying, but it’s hard not to laugh at the faces you’re making.”

“I’m trying to focus here, Castys, come on. You don’t want this to be a super nasty scar, do you?”

“Uh…I don’t really care. As long as I can still eat food and stuff what does it matter? I don’t see anyone else besides you, and I don’t think you care either.”

“I-I don’t, but…maybe there will be other people, someday?”

“Even then, whatever. If they’re scared off by a scar on my face they’re probably losers, anyway.”

“So you’ll fit right in, then!”

“And yet you still hang out with me all of the time.”

“Yeah, ‘cause there’s literally no one else, dumbass. It’s not like I have options.”

“Sucks to suck. I’m…I’m okay with just you, though.”

“...Me too, Castys. But that might change if you don’t sit still.”

His scars hurting more than his actual wounds was stupid, but it was certainly happening. He left Alfyn’s quarters in sort of a daze, trying to bury everything the stitches had brought to the surface. Focus on anything and everything else, on the awful food, on talking with Kamon, on getting more respect from the other crewmates, on drinking stolen ale, on the share of the treasure he was promised once they reached land.

But that night, lying awake in his hammock as the crew snored around him, his scars still hurting, the pain cutting through the warm haze of the alcohol, he didn’t feel any less alone.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hearse-song @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen @galaxywhump @starnight-whump @his-unspoken-words @misspelledwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg @pumpkin-spice-whump @painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump @whumpinggrounds @whump-queen @whumpedydump @theelvishcowgirl

#i wrote something #castys #pirate whump #stitches #splinters #HAHAHA USING LEGACY EDITOR SINCE I SAVED A FEW BLANK POSTS TO MY DRAFTS #i wish i saved more but oh well #bit shorter of a thing it's less than 2k words wow #i just didnt have anything else i wanted to do with this one idk once again i feel like there's not much but also i know all the lore #i dont think ill be able to keelhaul him tho 😔 he's being a very well-behaved boy since he's so young so he doesnt have any reason to be #he's not used to pain like normal so he's scared of getting whipped again and that's enough to keep him in like #most people make random ocs and get attached to them #i make random ocs and end up using less than i planned on #but it is what it is (￣_￣;)#now im gonna work on goretober bits and maybe the next E&T chapter cuz it would be cool if i could finish that by halloween #i can write i just have to force myself to do it really i just want to game and watch anime in my free time #but i dont want that to be the case i would like to Make Something #oh and sorry the fight was like a paragraph/sentence it just wasnt working any other way so sorry if it's underwhelming or something idk

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