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bubacorn · 2 months

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hc: Vessel is bad at receiving compliments and being told that he is loved (hug inspired by this one, @ghxstly-death put it into words perfectly. thank you, Eden!🫂)

Thinking about Vessel who can't accept compliments, not because he doesn't believe them (that too), but because he'd heard them so many times in the past related to small, unimpressive things. Not 'I'm proud of you', just 'You did good', an automatic response to any and all achievements. He did good. He didn't know what 'good' meant, but apparently, he did that. He has no idea what was good about what he did, so he continues to push himself, to not be a disappointment. If he does good, then that should be enough, right?

He tries for great, for excellent, for something more, but he always gets 'good', unrelated to the effort and time he put into something. He knows he shouldn't wish for more specific compliments, or anything else, really. He should be grateful to be regarded. Everyone around him is so busy, they can't possibly have time to listen to him talk about how in reality, he has no idea what he's doing. How things sometimes just click but he can't tell if what he did is actually worth anything or it was just pure luck. How he doubts himself at every step but learned to hide it, because he has to be good. And good means coping and dealing with things by himself and quietly, because then he will be told that he did good and who wouldn't want to be good?

Vessel who hears 'I love you' for the first time (said with actual love behind it for the very first time) in a really long time from II. He wouldn't tell the other that, but it's clear from the surprise and the hopeful longing in Vessel's eyes. His friend told him he loves him and he doesn't know what to do with that, so he hesitantly steps to him and begins to lift his arms in question. II's heart squeezes at his shyness, after all, the other has spent months alone in the manor, so it's understandable that he would have grown unaccustomed to touch. But then II has to pull Vessel against him, because the man sort of hovers his arms around his frame as if he doesn't know how to approach a hug. Like he isn't sure what is expected of him and what is too much.

Vessel is surprised when II squeezes around his torso, when he brings one arm around his shoulder and the other to his neck, trying to bring Vessel down towards him, like he wants to protect and shelter him. That's strange, but Vessel finds that his arms want to stay wrapped loosely around II a bit longer and just as he starts to pull away, II again says "I love you, Vessel", and Vessel's brain freezes. II squeezes him tighter and Vessel feels so warm and strangely loose (he's afraid he will unravel if he stays too close for too long) and small even though he towers over his friend. His friend who is now holding him and who apparently loves him.

The only thing in his mind stumbles from his tongue in the form of a quiet "Why?". He didn't do anything exceptional. He was showing II an arrangement and said he wasn't sure if it was any good, letting his fingers dance over the keys, feeling like he was stumbling through music. He felt like it captured that familiar insecurity, and he liked it and hoped II would like it, too. Even if it didn't make it into a song. Then II said he did like it, that it feels like Vessel is unsure but it gives the melody a unique flavor, and that Vessel was great for translating that feeling into music.

"'Why?' ?" II's answering question is filled with such disbelief that Vessel wants to hide. He said something inappropriate, something secret that had previously only been dwelling in his mind, in a dark corner, and now he feels exposed. Why did he even open his mouth? Not good. Definitely bad.

Vessel is slumping against II a bit, like he doesn't know how to hold himself upright anymore, like he needs support. II must feel it, because he's still holding him, and it's been minutes and Vessel tries to squirm away, to save any dignity he might still possess, and II lets him slip out of the embrace, but his arms linger like he doesn't want to let go of his friend. His friend who just blurted out the worst response to a confession of gentle affection. Vessel looks so worried when he catches II's gaze and he immediately averts his eyes and takes a few small steps back, unconsciously gravitating towards his piano for protection, a sense of safety.

"You're my friend, Vessel," II tries approaching the man with soft words, "You're kind and considerate and a damn good musician," Vessel stops backing away when the back of his legs hit the edge of his piano bench, but he's still looking at the floor, "You pour your heart into writing and playing and it's amazing to see. You're committed, but patient and you help me every time I need. Even when I'm too embarrassed to ask," II tilts his head and steps a bit closer to try and catch Vessel's gaze, "I know you don't see it and I'm sorry that you can't because it's true. I would never lie to you about this, Ves. I love you, you're my best friend," Vessel presses his lips together, so II adds, "Not just because we live in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. You're the best friend I've ever had. And I'm glad Sleep led me to you."

Vessel gives him a look that shows he tries really hard to believe him, and adds in such a low voice it's almost a whisper, "I love you, too," as if he's embarrassed to admit it. But it's not embarrassment, II realizes, it's disbelief, it's some sort of deep shame about needing someone else, of relying on anyone else but himself at all times. And it makes sense, considering Vessel's nature, but II could never put it all together, since large chunks of Vessel's past were unfamiliar to him. He could have guessed based on how the man acted, but he didn't want to assume anything. It felt disrespectful. Vessel would share if he wanted.

"And I'm really glad you found me," just a beat of silence, before he adds, in an even quieter tone, if that's possible, "And that you stayed," Vessel risks a bashful glance towards II, and sees him blink rapidly, shocked by the implication of the other's words, before he shakes himself and steps closer to Vessel. He searches his face for apprehension, but doesn't find any, so he gently puts his hands on Vessel's upper arms and sits him down on his bench. Before Vessel can react, II has his arms wrapped around him, one around his shoulder, and the other's hand cupping the back of his head and cradling it to his front.

"You're important to me, Ves. You're special and precious and I love you," II's fingers caress the man's shoulder and card through his hair, "I want you to know that I'm here for you any time, okay?" Vessel is still stunned and he's sure he's going catch on fire if he gets any warmer. II twists a lock of hair around his finger, "Okay?" Words form and die in Vessel's throat so he just nods, rapidly, almost hurriedly, and II lets out a small chuckle. "You're amazing, you know that?" he nuzzles into Vessel's hair for a moment to murmur, "And adorable," II sways with the man in his arms a little and Vessel is sure he will combust. His face is flaming against II's shirt and he tries to suppress the half grimace-half grin on his face and feels unreal. "C'mon. Tea break?" II smiles down at him and offers a hand. Vessel can stand on his own, but doesn't reject the offer. He likes the warmth of II's hand and he can always use the stability and the reminder of the other's presence. II soon replaces his hand with a mug of tea, but it's considerably colder to Vessel. The contrast is especially palpable when II brushes his knuckles against Vessel's as he's handing him his tea. The mug is warm, but II's skin is burning against his. But it's not bad. It's a good burn. It makes Vessel feel alive. Seen. Loved?

Vessel learns that he doesn't have to prove himself to other people to receive love. Love is not something that has to be earned in their home. Love is not a reward, not something that Vessel has to work for, then be disappointed that in the end, it isn't actually given to him. He tried being good in the past, being silent and keeping his head down and being a good kid, but the warmth and the unconditional love didn't come. He still tried, though, he always tried his best, but apparently that wasn't enough. Or there wasn't actually love at the end of that tunnel. It was just a play of light. But that would have been cruel and Vessel would like to think that people in his past weren't intentionally unkind to him (he won't admit the truth to himself for a while).

II often tells Vessel that he's proud of him. For speaking up. For telling him when he's having a bad day. For asking for distance when he needs it and closeness when he feels like he will drift away. For admitting to messing up, when he falls back into bad habits of self-destruction and isolation. For doing a grocery run by himself even though he goes home almost shaking and has to spend the next hours under a blanket on the couch, because it was simply too much. For crying when he talks about memories that he tried his hardest to forget but he just can't. For asking for help and letting II help him, even though it's hard. It's really hard, and Vessel apologizes for it, for being fucked-up and broken and damaged goods. For wasting II's time and being a burden, a needy, greedy thing. Wretched. Minus human.

But II tells him he loves him and that he could never be a burden. That he will always be worth it, he always has been, and that he's sorry that people in Vessel's past couldn't see it. Couldn't see him for all that he is. For the friend who pays attention to little details so he can show his friend how much he values him. For the guy who bakes his friend a complicated cake for his birthday because he off-handedly told him he can't even remember what it tasted like, even though it used to be his favorite. For the amazing composer who can capture emotions one doesn't realize one has. For the hard-working, curious kid who thought that being obedient and not questioning authority was the way to earn praise and affection. For the little boy who thought something was wrong with him, that he did or didn't do something and that is why he couldn't feel loved. For the child who cried and cried, silent and under the cover of the night, hoping that no one would hear (and secretly hoping that somebody would and they would come and save him from the gaping emptiness that made its home in his chest, way too big and scary for a boy that little). For the boy and then the man who couldn't cry anymore but thought that that is more than alright, at least he can finally keep it all inside. For the partner who allowed himself to be vulnerable with someone he trusted. For the partner who made sure his other knew he was always welcome, even though his brain sometimes tried to tell him otherwise. For the partner who grew comfortable with expressing casual affection so much that terms like 'darling' became second nature to him (and for the way he blushed when II told him that). For the man who learned to accept that it's okay to admit to not being okay, to need someone, to want to not feel alone, to feel cherished, to have his feelings validated. For the man who can tell his partner anything and does, because he knows he can speak his mind and that there will be someone who listens.

II wanted to see Vessel. Vessel let him. Even before he showed the uglier and less than perfect parts of himself, II loved him all the same. It was never about being 'good' and silent and compliant. Vessel is good. Vessel is not good. He's amazing. He's perfect. He's wonderful. He's cherished. He's incredible. He's valued. He's seen. He's listened to. He's heard. He's finally, finally loved. Has been for longer than he dared to think. Will soon be by more people than he thought possible.

#Vessel was a gifted kid who tried to push through burnout and mental illness #waiting for someone to tell him they see and love him and are proud of him #and you can't change my mind #making myself sad first thing in the morning #what else is new #<- it's night since then but this still applies #yes i included a Metallica reference (almost two). fight me (please don't i have shrimp-like arms and get scared easily)#also #tumblr scared the crap out of me earlier #i posted this privately after it posted instead of saving it as a draft #and apparently it was visible #and i got so freaking scared cause this wasn't finished #so i apologize for deleting and reposting #but my heart stopped for a moment and i whispered like 10 'shitshitshit's at my computer #i should be reading for a class tomorrow #sleep token headcanons #buba writes

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butchthirteen · 4 months

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by the way i've been going through rtd's non-doctor-who work and the first thing i watched was queer as folk and i have to say. there's a lot going on in that show but my main takeaway is "it's extremely obvious that the guy writing this really wants to write doctor who." there are ten episodes and of those i believe seven mention doctor who in some capacity. the theme starts playing in the middle of gay sex. k-9 is there. the character responsible for most of these references breaks up with his boyfriend because the boyfriend can't name all the doctors. at the end he has a couple lines where i was like "wow this sounds like something the doctor would say" and then the next lines out of his mouth were about doctor who. all of this is retroactively much funnier now that rtd kickstarted a 20+-year-long reboot for the show

#doctor who #like the show itself is not all that similar to doctor who beyond like. rtd having a pretty clear voice as a writer #like the characters aren't similar the plots aren't similar it's a totally different genre #and like. ostensibly doctor who comes up so much because one particular character is a fan #but like. you can *tell* that it's coming from a place of appreciation and knowledge on the writer's part #i don't know. if i'd been an adult in 2004 and i'd seen queer as folk and then heard that that guy was going to be writing doctor who.#well i simply would not have been surprised.#i would've been like. yeah good for that guy. proud of him.#(i also found an interview with rtd from like. 2000. where he was like 'yeah i was going to do doctor who but then someone new came in so #that's probably not happening anymore :/' and again. very funny to read in retrospect)#anyway. the funniest reference was the theme playing mid-gay-sex because for half a second i thought i was watching the wrong show #and it had gone to the opening credits #also i need to find out if they used the original k-9 prop because i think that would be EXTREMELY funny

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fox-mulder-gets-pegged · 11 months

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Rewatched the episode of House MD where Kutner dies and I honestly think instead of killing his character off, they should have said that Kutner got a job as physician to then President Barack Obama and that's why he was leaving. Objectively funnier since his actor did leave the show to work for Obama and I know it would have driven House nuts that Kutner was ditching to go play doctor with the President instead of getting verbally abused for House's amusement.

#house md #house md spoilers #i mean #the show is like a decade old but Kutner's death is kind of a big spoiler #lawrence kutner #but like #u KNOW Taub and Foreman would be seething with jealousy #kutner shows up one morning like hey guys i got a new job! I'll miss you!#and house makes some bitchy comment about who would be crazy enough to hire the guy who set a patient on fire #and Kutner is like the president did lol #thirteen would find Foreman's undying rage HILARIOUS im sure #i like to hc that Kutner is her Little Buddy™#Taub would be ready to kill someone #and House is mad bc well its p much impossible for him to meddle #can't very well intimidate and terrorize the president into not hiring one of ur emotional support ducklings bc ur jealous #wilson and cuddy c plot (Kutner's political career is the b plot patients are a plot obviously)#where they have to desperately try to prevent house from being arrested for domestic terrorism (stalking the president)#but yeah they should have just given Kutner the same reason his actor had for leaving #bc i think it would make Taub kill himself out of rage and Foreman would be chewing glass and House is going to end up on a watch list #meanwhile Thirteen is so proud of her emotional support Little Guy™ even if she's too busy talking Taub and Foreman off the ledge #to properly congratulate him #im objectively correct and kind of want to write this as an au fic

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xythlia · 5 months

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my bf being a therapist is actually really enlightening because I've learned a whole lot about how to spot a bad therapist

#hes someone who's like legitimately dedicated himself to being a genuinely good therapist #his patients are pretty much exclusively people that have felt like other therapists gave up on them #he talks every day about them in non hippa violating vague terms but hes always so happy talking about them #& just being like oh my Thursday patients making really good progress im really proud of them stuff like that #he takes on overnight er shifts at the hospital so they call him in if they need psych evals for er patients #he does that because i guess a lot of the time coming in thru er is really rough & can be traumatic for ppl already in a bad spot #so he really tries to turn it into at least a less horrible experience I mean nobodies having a good time if they're there for er psych yk #but hes just extremely dedicated to trying his best to be a good therapist for people & really takes his ethics seriously #i feel a lot of like pride by proxy & im glad hes doing something he really loves

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tj-crochets · 5 months

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Hey y'all I generally don't give advice about work but I do have some advice for you today! If you, as a contractor, mess up doing something so spectacularly that you spent three days doing it wrong and it will take an additional three days undoing it before it can be done correctly, and you are calling the company you're contracted with to tell them: do NOT say during the same call where you are explaining your spectacular mistake that you are my "best [contractor]" and insist repeatedly that you are and keep pushing to try to get me to agree. Just don't.

#tj talks about work #so works going great guys #he kept insisting he was my best contractor!#I mean he did not use the word contractor #he used the job-specific term #but for reasons of not sharing company info and also not sharing personal details #contractor it is lol #like...dude! you are not my best contractor by any metric!#you are the guy who keeps asking if I am proud of him and then in an ominous way saying things like #'you've gotta treat me better you BETTER start treating me better I'm your best contractor! you don't have any better than me!'#so he's unpleasant to deal with and has made two incredibly 'can't believe someone did this' mistakes in two weeks #and one 'this is still pretty bad but more understandable that it would happen' mistake

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rhys-ravenfeather · 1 year

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Listen, sometimes in life you’ve just gotta ignore canon, and even certain headcanons/AUs you don’t like or agree with and come up with your own/a version of the thing you like. As a form of self-care. This is a moral I live by, I think anyone who knows me knows at this point.

But for all that is good and decent in the world, you still absolutely need to be respectful towards others, even if what they made does not gel with you, personally. Especially if they’re the original creator(s) of the original, canon work.

#rhys-ravenfeather signing on #fandom stuff #a reminder to myself and others #case in point: there's a CERTAIN fnaf character a friend and i have VERY different opinions on #she loves him; i...DON'T; and he's one of many i've elected to keep out of my fnaf au(s)#i don't spend every hour of every day whining about how much i dislike this character out of spite because i love my friend and respect her #also what would it really accomplish lol :P #there's also the time someone told me my ahit au was boring because i just made snatcher a good dad who's trying to become a better person #instead of a soul-stealing baddie #like...i know my au isn't the greatest thing ever but i still love it and love my versions of the characters; snatcher included #and i'm really proud of the story i came up with #bottom line: be decent to each other people

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tenitchyfingers · 17 days

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Literally almost cried watching Astarion break the cycle of abuse and be free

#the first time I tried he killed Cazador and then left my party #COULDN’T HAVE THAT! thank fuck I made a quick save before #and then the second time he made all the right choices and THANKED ME AUUAHRHRHAAG 😭😭😭😭#he said all that stuff about how I saw the real him and valued him for who he is #no babyyyyy oh my god #…wonder whether I could still maybe hope to get to fuck him #on this run I romanced lae’zel then shadowheart then the emperor #there’s time to sneak someone else in!#and I want it to be astarion #but if it doesn’t happen it’s like… yeah it’s fine #I’m so proud of him I love him #even if it gets nowhere farther #it’s ok I just need him to stay happy baby #…..but please just a kiss 😭#bg3

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sonnburn · 1 year

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No Means No, but Context Matters

Look, I have mixed feelings about the way Prapai confronted Sky, but my issues with the method doesn’t make the confrontation itself any less crucial.

I think some people are overlooking some pretty important context in their attempt to simplify Sky’s situation and maintain their bad faith takes on Prapai’s character. Because Sky is a sexual abuse survivor and Prapai’s intentions towards him in the beginning were sexual, they interpret Prapai’s pushiness as similarly abusive. But first of all, guys... it’s a BL drama. Of course Prapai’s intentions are romantic, that’s literally the genre! But him being sexually attracted to Sky doesn’t invalidate his efforts to try and help him.

“No Means No” is a rule specifically about unwanted advances that emphasizes sexual consent. It’s a valuable saying and I would never downplay that! But the slogan exists to address a very specific problem. It is NOT an irrefutable law that should be applied to any and all instances of human interaction, romantic or not, which is how I think some people are choosing to interpret it. “No Means No” should be respected in romantic/sexual encounters, but it should absolutely NOT be applied to people experiencing a mental health crisis.

Because when the person saying “no” is drowning, are we just supposed to let them?

As much as I want Sky’s boundaries to be respected, up until episode 9 I was legitimately scared for him. Sky had emotionally self-isolated, he refused to confide in anyone, didn’t rely on anyone, his best friend didn’t even know he liked men let alone that he’s an abuse survivor! Sky had bottled up all of his trauma and refused to process it. He just wanted to push through and ignore it. Like it or not, Prapai was the only one who noticed how much Sky was actually struggling, and the only one willing to push back when Sky tried to brush it off.

After that, we saw marked improvement over the next two episodes. When Sky got very sick his friends refused to let him help out at the faculty event and forced him to take it easy, and when he was in trouble with schoolwork, he called Prapai and asked for help. These were all positive developments for Sky building a healthy support system, one which includes Prapai.

I think there’s respecting someone’s boundaries, and then there’s letting someone become self-destructive. People say no for a variety of reasons, and as much as I wish everyone would just say what they mean all the time, the truth is that they don’t. People lie, people will smile and tell you they’re fine when they’re dying inside. So what do we do if the person who needs help won’t tell us the truth and we can’t read their minds? What do we do if the person saying no wants to say yes, but they’re scared to— maybe because they don’t want to burden anyone else, or they’re afraid the person they seek help from will hurt them instead. How do we let someone know that it’s okay to ask for help? That it’s safe to. That we want to help them.

The answer is you keep asking. You keep showing up and checking in and making sure they know you’re there for them until they’re not scared anymore. Until they’re ready to trust you. It’s about remaining consistent. If you just take their first no and leave, then yeah you’ve technically respected their boundaries, but you’ve also just proved you are NOT the person they can trust to help them. It is a very fine line to walk when someone suffering needs help but can’t ask for it, between taking someone at their word and giving them the space they need to process, or just checking out of their problem and leaving them trapped inside their own heads to deal with it alone.

Prapai is only human— he’s allowed to struggle between his own desires and doing the right thing. He’s allowed to get hurt and lash out. Regardless of Prapai’s romantic inclinations, his actions serve a greater purpose than just getting Sky to fall for him. Prapai is, at his core, a caretaker. He wants to help Sky, and the only way to convince Sky that he is someone who can help him is to keep showing up and proving that to him. To pull Sky out of his head when he’s spiralling and challenge his negative beliefs that keep him isolated. Prapai doesn’t just not take no for an answer because he won’t accept rejection or because he doesn’t care about what Sky wants. He won’t take no for an answer because he knows that Sky needs help, and Prapai refuses to abandon him even when Sky tries to push him away.

Whether Sky wants to admit it or not, he was drowning. Just because he claimed he could save himself rather than take the risk that Prapai would drag him under, doesn’t mean Prapai was in the wrong for saving him.

#love in the air #love in the air the series #lita #prapaisky #lita sky #lita prapai #love in the air sky #love in the air prapai #sky love in the air #prapai love in the air #lita meta #lita analysis #the amount of people i see in the tags saying they relate to Sky #that they are the type of people who will say no and push people away and what they really need is someone who won't listen to them #and then see them be utterly overlooked and talked over because some righteous idiots can't imagine trauma survivors having different needs #is staggering and sad #proud prapai defender here #Sky needed help and Prapai helped him #that's what matters

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momo-de-avis · 2 years

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I am eternally amazed at how sensitive the portuguese are at the subject of colonialism. The idea that we practised some sort of soft colonialism is so ingrained in our minds people will be fighting for their lives to defend this idea (which, btw, is still a remnant of Salazar's propaganda). Brazil's colonialism is such a hyper sensitive topic you can see the vein popping on the neck of the average Zé when someone even lightly mentions accountability. I dead ass remember my 7th grade teacher telling our class that Brazil's colonialism consisted of "jesuit priests playing music, which enticed the natives" and that was it (flutes too, to be precise, for some fucking reason) and everyone has just blindly believed this and refused to accept the actual horrible history we're a part of. Portuguese people will be fighting for their lives on technicalities. Say "The portuguese invented the slave trade" and Salvador over there will jump from under the table to explain that akshually african people were the ones to sell their own people as slaves!!! And askhually, slavery goes back for centuries!! You know what they mean, you know what needs to be discussed here, but my boy Salvador is on a mission. He doesn't even care that he's regurgitating fascist propaganda that was entirely built on ahistorical facts that specifically sought to promote colonialism and imperialism as a progressive idea, no, none of that matters. It matters that we are miserable people who will perpetually long for the past, look back on something utterly atrocious and willingly ignore the brutality of it, because we cannot come to terms with the fact that today we live in a country that's ripe with corruption, unlivable wages and high cost of living; we cannot come to terms with the fact that we did all this colonialism just to be a poor fucking country that's being exploited by digital nomads; in fact, we just cannot tolerate the idea that we're just a summer resort for americans and brits and have absolutely no economical relevance in the world, not even cultural, but hey, cultural meaning can be invented. So we look back, we wail and cry and look back at these centuries when we pillaged, enslaved and destroyed because at least we meant something, because we once divided the world in two with Spain, that's how big our balls were once, and because once people knew who we were, they our name beyond the one football player. We purposefully disregard the horrid shit. We coast through life without ever, ever acknowledging it ever existed. We're taught in school colonialism was soft core at best, tell some bullshit about some priests with flutes and be done with it, and then when someone finally confronts us for our history, on god, we'll be fighting with everything we have to prove to you that our colonialism was just fine, and we, white men of the 16th century, showed these countries the meaning of civilisation! Orgulhosamente sós, am i right bitches

#i love my country #but i just cannot identify with the portuguese people #I'm fed up with this shit #and i feel i have a responsibility as a tour guide #i dont actually talk about colonialism bc there's no time #we don't even talk about the discoveries #well okay we di briefly but it's because of the codfish actually #but if someone asks I'll answer #and i don't hold back #this is just so fucking stupid #i follow creators that talk about this #and I'll be watching an educational video and learning #and you open the comments #and there's santiago thinking he is a modern day afonso henriques #defending colonialism like this was 16th century #hell there's people out there who are proud of the fact that columbus married a PT woman #and was here before he went to isabella #my guy John II was genuinely a harsh even cruel man #and he even he told Columbus to pound sand!!!!! why do you want to claim him tf!!!!!#sorry for the rqnt #rant

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a-stitch-in-time-and-space · 1 year

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benjamin sisko autism

benjamin sisko as a man with mental health issues of some kind

the visions of joan of arc the trials of moses, you will bleed into the story until you are more mythology than man, more dream than dreamer

mythologies and religion is the same as science and travelling you will die if you keep having these visions

sports creating narrative structures you cannot know until you have reached the end

despite the feeling that the end will bring sorrow, you must continue

benjamin sisko as larger than life and as a relatable man who is struggling with how his mind works

#benjamin sisko #ds9 #st: ds9 #star trek #this is very rough but there's jsut something ive been feeling a lot with certain characters #when they become Very Mythological it's like they loop around and I relate to them from a certain experience #and ds9 does support this read of him as highly obsessive in ways that sometimes harm him #and someone who feels emotions in very powerful ways #and of course someone who's going through grief and ptsd #the prophets as religion and as science affecting his mind and his body #and all along he's really *just* (affectionately) a guy who's trying to get his people through something #and wants to make his dad proud and be there for his son #and whose mindbody betray him #there's also this thing (the episode where he gets stuck out of time and only sees jake a few times before he dies #but then it does get reversed)#where there is such a palpable sense of fighting the inevitable #and that feels relatable in terms of struggling with mental health issues or degenerative illnesses/having family members who #struggle with these things -- jake maybe having to prepare to say some kind of goodbye #i say all of this delicately because i firmly am in the camp that avery brooks is that sisko would never just *leave* those he loves #and I want him to return I imagine that he does (although idk when exactly in my head)#but the pain of that leaving is still real -- and I don't think it works as an absent father metaphor #for it being a cheap stereotype and because sisko simply isn't like that and because there are all these signs #like having a parent whose mindbody you see deteriorating for some reason and trying to continue for as long as you can #it's very vague right now but it is there in my head

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chiropteracupola · 1 year

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a little pain now, to save a great deal more pain later

[flintlock fortress is a collaboration with @dxppercxdxver]

#em draws stuff #flintlock fortress #team fortress 2 #blood #today on the em cupola show: wild self-indulgence. but hey I feel Bad so I'll draw what I Like. and today that's medical procedures.#someone leaned over my shoulder while I was drawing this and asked 'is that bloodletting' and they were Almost Right so I'm endlessly proud #in fact it is smallpox inoculation!#sorry to everyone who I have bothered with my Smallpox Talk in recent memory but It Will Happen Again.#the game style itself is kind of rockwell and leyendecker-y to me so I wanted to do something with a similar look to their work #had a lot of goals for this piece and I think I really did achieve all of them quite nicely #could I keep these guys recognizable without showing their full faces? yes I think so!#could I make 'getting a mild case of smallpox with the lads' seem a bit romantic even? yes to that too.#also. scout tattoos make an appearance. (do not go looking for them in any other art of him on account of I Forgor)#and a new look for ansel (this man dresses Boring but that is no fun for me to draw)#'backstory relevant' I say as I do not discuss any of these guys' backstories again.#'that's for us to know and for you to find out' I say while giving you no way at all to find out #have been in a constant state of 'by gosh having a little less blood in me would make this situation better' for several days now #and while I am using Normal methods to improve the situation drawing such things does work a bit to heal the mind #'we're doing just fine' says local guy who is madly drawing the same guys over and over again

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fates-calling · 3 months

Text

Care

CW: Almost-Character Death | Violence | Refrenced Astarion Trauma

Featuring: Soren (OC) & Astarion & Gale Relationship: Implied Tav/Asatrion/Gale (and vice versa)

Word Count: 2,940 Other Tags: Physcial Hurt/Comfort | Minor Whump | Astarion Is Bad At Feelings | Mild Angst | Fluff | Jealous Astarion (but of both Gale & Tav because he wants in on it) | Gale Is Crushing Like A Dweeb | Protective Tav Synopsis: During the fight with the duergar on the beach, Astarion nearly dies: but Gale and Soren come to his rescue. And he simply can't wrap his head around why. Ao3 Link!

Another arrow sliced through his torso like butter, it seemed that Astarion had underestimated the duergar’s aim. It didn't help that they were taking on what, ten of them? The entire beach has become a battlefield, and it was already coated with bodies. He can't believe he was doing this for some strange mushroom creatures. Why did he let himself be dragged along on some heroic side quest again? It wasn't his style at all. This time it seemed he was going to pay the price for it. He grits his teeth and clutches at his side, blood is pouring from the wound rapidly. Plenty of arrows had grazed him during the fight but this one stuck. The world blurred.

No! Was his first thought as he felt himself drop to his knees, desperately clinging to his bow. Astarion attempts to stand, unaware of how much blood is coming out of him, yet, it is such a familiar sensation. To be bleeding out. He had felt this two hundred years ago as Cazador had sunk his fangs into his throat. This time, however, there was no sweeping numbness as he was already dead. Instead there was nothing but spikes of pain pacing back and forth in his nerves.

Then he heard it, “Astarion! Shit!”

It was Soren, screaming out his name from a few meters away. The vampire fell to the ground the dark-sunless sky of the Underdark staring down at him. He can see pretty well still as the edges of his vision flicker with black spots. He feels blood leak from his mouth, and his instinct is to wipe it away. Have to look perfect. He can't move though - too weak. He watches the bard fire off three arrows out of his crossbow, each one striking at the dwarves with a vengeance. A strange shock rolls through the rouge. It is vengeance. There is a rage etched into the elf’s face that startles him.

He had only seen it a few times before. It's practically a snarl, as the bard's long ears pin down and he bares his teeth. His eyes aglow with his magic as he strikes his lute with ferocity. Astarion watches as duergar goes flying away from him as sound crashes into them shattering bones. Then, the bard is rushing towards him. Turning his back to the enemy, and the vampire wants to hiss out about him being an idiot.

But then, he realizes something.

Soren came to his aid. But why? He has to wonder. This entire journey so far he has been nothing but, well, an asshole. His attempts to seduce the man before him - to manipulate him with sex and fake admiration have all failed. Soren would flirt back and play along, but, never was Astarion able to get any further than banter. The bard was infatuated with Gale. He had spent the night with him after they saved the grove, and honestly: Astarion would be lying if he said it hadn't been driving him mad.

What did Gale offer that he couldn't? Wasn't he gorgeous? Wasn't he sexy? Everything you could want for a roll in the hay! It had dawned on him recently, that, maybe Soren wanted something deeper. That's why he was drawn to the helpless romantic wizard. But that meant he didn't have control of the elf. Couldn't bend him to his will. Sure! The man didn't stake him for being a vampire. He allows him to feed on him whenever he needs or even wishes. But that's because he is useful in a fight. He knows that.

So, why, is he feeling a health potion being pressed to his lips. Why is a hand carding through his hair, and forcing him to swallow it? He had just proven that he wasn't good enough for the battles ahead. That he wasn't ready for them. Soren was risking himself!

“Ignis!” Astarion heard Gale's voice shout out, and he saw a dwarf that was trying to get to them erupt into flames. Karlach is somewhere down below them on the beach, cutting through the enemies with a vicious roar. The wizard was now running over to his side. Warmth spreads through his body from the potion.

The vampire whelps as Soren rips the arrow from his body, “Fuck!”

Soren winces, “Sorry!”

Another health potion is forced onto him, he thinks this time, from Gale. The world comes back into full view. His body aches though, and Astarion feels as if he was hit by a carriage. Might as well have been. The pair of men are kneeling in front of him, both of them wearing an almost comically similar expression. Worry. Concern. Relief. Astarion stares at them for a moment, processing. Soren helping he understands, a bit. The bard is making amends for something he has done, that the vampire was sure of: for what he can't tell you. But his whole hero thing is about redemption for him. Reclaiming old childhood dreams.

But Gale? Astarion has been nothing but, honestly, an asshole to him. The wizard has certainly taken it in full stride, however. Tossing back insults and banter. Yet, despite that the human always tries and talk to him. Especially at camp, lord, Gale loves to talk. Yet. It's nice to listen to him. Astarion feels like he can also, just, talk when the wizard gets into one of his rambling moods. They have had strangely long conversations as of late. When Soren is away the wizard for some reason drifts to him and his tent to seek company. Astarion has been trying his damndest not to let his puppy-dog eyes and wonderful smile melt him. But. It's been working.

Just like Soren's gorgeous wavy hair and the way he smirks before telling a terrible joke. Or the way his sword is soaked with blood at his hip right now. The blood he shed for Astarion. The vampire begins to sit up, feeling pinned by the two men before him. The strange warmth blossoming inside of his chest made him reel. It's a foreign sensation. Not like the heated flames of lust he is used to. The fires of passion. No. It's soft and soothing. He hates it. He doesn't want to think about what it means.

“Astarion take it easy!” Gale says unhelpfully, as he reaches for the vampire who nearly falls trying to stand. Astarion flinches as he feels the warmth of the human's hand on his arm. It takes everything in him not to reel away. This doesn't make sense. Gale should hate him. Soren shouldn't care for him. He hasn't given nor managed to give either of them anything. No sex. No kind words. No grand acts of heroism. Not even stupid silly gifts. He has seen Soren present magical scrolls to Gale like he was bringing home gold.

“C’mon sit down, man. You just almost died.” Soren grabs the vampire by the shoulder softly, his grip is loose. It grounds him, and slowly, he allows the bard to lead him to the wooden floorboards beneath them. One yellow eye and the other a brilliant icy-blue stare at him searching his face and body. Brows are furrowed and the elf curses underneath his breath. “Fuck! I should've not let any of them see you!”

Astarion is puzzled at the sound of guilt in his voice. He doesn't let it show, he waves a hand through the air allowing his body to stop shaking. Focusing on doing - something. Anything to ignore this buzzing inside of his chest. The lump in his throat. “Darling, I'm fine.”

“You were not though,” Gale pipes up and the vampire wonders not for the first time, if the man ever has a filter. “That's the problem. We had agreed to cover you and we failed -”

Soren cuts the wizard off, his intense gaze flicking to the human. Astarion is grateful for it. He felt trapped beneath it. Caught in the waves of color as if they were raging oceans. “No, I failed. I should have fucking killed the bastards faster. If I - if we lost you Astarion…”

His voice trails off, and his gaze looks off into the distance for a moment. The vampire feels that warmth again. Stronger than before. Gale has a similar look of devastation that is sweeping in. The pair are so oddly in sync it is almost comical. They must have been spending a lot of time together. Why does that make his stomach twist into knots? Not quite in a jealous way. More like - loneliness. Being left out way. It makes him want to puke.

“Let's not think about that.” Gale breaks the heavy silence, “He's alive, that's what matters. We got to him in time.”

A strange anger enters his voice, and he points at Astarion, “If you ever scare me like that again, I will make your hair purple!”

“What?” the rouge manages eloquently, confusion flooding his features. Soren laughs as Gale flushes a bit realizing that his threat was well, odd. The wizard shoves at him, and it seems to only make Soren giggle more. The world seems to freeze for a split second, as Astarion stares at the pair. A perfect image, as they are bathed in the soft glows of the mushrooms and crystals around them.

They look so happy. That's when the vampire recognizes the blood on them, not from the enemy. Both of them seemed to have taken some heavy blows themselves from the battle. Gale has a large slash across his arm, it having torn his sleeve right off. Soren has about a dozen cuts and scraps from arrows plinking off his armor. Barely missing. Not to mention, the gash across his leg from where a dwarf stabbed him. They were both mostly long-ranged fighters like Astarion, so how -

It dawned on him.

It was when they ran over to him. When they turned their backs to the enemy.

“You fucking idiots.” He hisses out and he grabs healing potions from his pack, tossing them to the men. Gale doesn't catch him and Soren has to save it from falling to the ground. “You two took hits running over here to save me! You could have gotten yourselves killed and that would be, well, bad!”

Soren blinks, and it seems he just realizes he is injured. None of them have even noticed the battle is over, as the beach has gone silent. Karlach had cut through the last of them. “It was worth it to make sure you were okay.”

The words cut into Astarion. Sharp. Strange. Foreign. He watched as the bard downed the potion, wounds closing and bruises fading. Gale followed his lead, though, he fumbled shakily with the cork on it. He seemed worse for wear than the bard beside him, exhausted. He had used a lot of mana during the battle.

“Losing a little bit of blood is nothing compared to your potential death.” Gale comments, as if it is a matter of fact. That Astarion dying was worth the pain. Was worth their own lives, potentially.

The vampire shakes his head, and he looks away swallowing hard. “Whatever. Never pull a stunt like that again for me, got it?” The unsaid words rang in his head. You two are worth more than I could ever be.

“Can't make any promises.” Soren quips, and he grins at the man. “Give it up, Astarion. We care about you, and you can't stop us.”

“Why?” It falls out from his lips in a whisper, before he can stop it. Astarion regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth. He doesn't look at either man, as silence falls between them. He wishes he could run, but, his legs still feel so weak. He is pathetic. Can't even escape his problems properly. If he had his way with Soren - ugh! None of this would be happening. Then he wouldn't be questioning everything the man did for him, because he knows what he wanted from him. But, he doesn't - and Gale? Even bigger of a mystery.

Gale speaks first, clearing his throat. The sound has the vampire looking up at him. “I for one, believe it to be rude to let your comrades lay on the ground and bleed out. Also! I would greatly miss our late-night readings! I have never met someone with the same taste as me before in literature, and passion. Plus, when I can't sleep because of this retched orb-” he taps his chest. “You -”

There is a break in his words, a flood of emotion entering the wizard's eyes. He glances away from Astarion and the rouge's thoughts reel. “You keep me company, and I know you don't like me much. It's nice though. To just talk to you and it would be a shame if I lost that. You're also funny - and - well, I think Soren it's your turn to explain!”

Soren shakes his head a bit, as Gale cuts himself off from his rambling, and there is a pink color in his face. The bard looks at him, his gaze is just as intense as before.

“I care for you, simple as that. If you need reasons why, well,” he clears his throat, and he counts off on his fingers as he speaks. “You're funny, as Gale stated. You have wonderful fashion taste and keep this party well dressed. You have brilliant taste in wine and books, oh! And you are just the niftiest little lockpick! Also, you're endearing. I like your laugh, too. And -” his eyes shine. “You'd do the same for me. I know it.”

Astarion scowls, his skin is crawling. “Do you, now?”

“I do.” It was said with such trust, and assurance that the vampire knew he meant it. He thinks about how many nights the bard has let him feed upon him. Allowing himself to be held in the predator's claws and not once, has he been afraid. Even that first time: Soren hadn't shown a hint of fear. Astarion groans.

“I think this just proves to me you two are insane.” He states simply and stands up, dusting himself off. Gale follows his movements and it looks like he wants to say something, but he stops. He doesn't want to push. It feels like they already stepped on a minefield. Maybe tonight, at camp when the weariness of the battle has faded. He already knows Soren will question Astarion about this. About his need to prove that their care is fake. He can see it in his features.

Determined and stubborn as always.

Astarion crosses his arms over his chest, “That was quite enough mushy talk for me. Shall we start looting bodies?”

Soren grins wickedly, “Already on it!”

The bard runs like a giddy child over to the nearest corpse and begins to rummage through their pockets.

“Gale! This one has a scroll of Thunderwave!” He declares and tosses it to the wizard who lights up as if they don't have five of them already. Astarion stares at them for too long, just watching as they talk and loot. Tossing each other items. A perfect picture. He feels as if his heart flutters, but it's impossible. He turns away only to be hit in the back of the head with something metal.

“Hey!” He shouts and spins around, Gale is staring at him sheepishly.

“Sorry! I thought you'd catch it! It's for you.” the rouge shakes his head before he plucks the ring that was thrown at him off the ground. He pauses. There is nothing magical about it from what he can see, it's just a simple golden band with red gemstones all around. He raised an eyebrow.

“Gale, this is useless.”

The wizard shrugs, “It matches your eyes. I thought you'd appreciate it-”

“Catch!” Soren called out and Astarion had no time to react before a pouch was thrown at his face, the bard was grinning with mischief as it hit him square in the nose. The vampire shakes his head.

“You did that on purpose!” He half-whines out, but he is beginning to feel lighter. Catching onto the playfulness in the bard's gaze.

Soren's voice is sing-song, “You can't prove it. Also! Maybe just don't be so slow.”

Astarion grins wickedly, thinking that he shall get sweet revenge. He walks up to a dwarf whose body is charred, he snags gold coins off of them. Perfect. With precision, he throws each one of them at Soren, who catches them all without looking. The vampire gaped.

The bard merely smirks at him, “You're gonna have to try harder than that!”

“Why you little…”

“I'm not little anywhere, sweetheart.” The bard winks. Astarion and Gale flush at the sudden comment. The rouge can shake it off easily and he ignores the flutter inside of his chest. Gale on the other hand seems to be steaming a bit, too caught up in the imagery his mind conjured up.

Then he gets hit in the face with a coin. “Ow! Soren, you asshole!”

The bard is cackling now before he dips into the shadows vanishing from sight. Astarion cracks his neck, and he snatches the coin that fell in front of Gale.

“Oh, it's a war now.” He flips the coin. “What do you say, wizard? Wanna help me get revenge?”

Gale pauses and he nods, taking a coin offered to him by the vampire. A smile spreads across his features, his eyes lighting up with an oddly, malicious look. Astarion can't help but, appreciate it.

“Gladly.”

Astarion could get used to this.

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