#futures rewritten

[koyoriin]

☀️ alternative future ryne & gaia 🌑 patreon suggestion!

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[artxwn]

futures rewritten ultimate [2024.10.4]

[whatthegorf]

for all my ffxiv enjoyers out there

[castellankurze]

Me, a normal-mode FFXIV player watching the race for Futures Rewritten (Ultimate) start tomorrow:

[monarchetype]

wouldnt it be sick if in Futures Rewritten Ultimate you have to awaken the primals (kinda like UWU) from Eden's Promise's memory crystals and if you dont then EP uses your party members to as vessel to summon them. and if you do awaken them then in the last phase when youre fighting some crazy Yuri Fusion Oracle of Light and Darkness Prime all the primals come back and do their own captain planet fusion into an overdesigned Eulogia monstrosity that smites the boss. or even your party members summons them as vessels to nuke the boss (because Ultimate LB spam has seen its course I think)

also this would be one last punchline re: the WoL's bad memory because they would be conflating the Primals with the Twelve and their combined form Eulogia

[fajitaposting]

Fandaniel: I wish I was a dinosaur. Everyone else at the Royal Menagerie in 5.4: Why? Cause they're big and scary? Fandaniel: Because they're dead.

[jacketbopo]

promises

[apathmakerstale]

There is no heterosexual explanation for this.

[moment-live]

Promise of Eden.

[zerimagi]

happy belated lesbians ultimate!

[koyoriin]

futures rewritten

https://twitter.com/koyoriin https://patreon.com/koyorin https://instagram.com/koyori_n https://bsky.app/profile/koyorin.bsky.social

[battlecrazed-axe-mage]

Partner and I started talking about how many entities are actually incorporated into Pandora, so I made a handy ms paint diagram

[lemongogo]

anyways . silly thing

[walkingstackofbooks]

After "meeting" Lisa Cusak, Julian finds he wants to get something off his chest that's been weighing him down for the longest of times. Unfortunately for Miles, it's two in the morning.

Hurt/comfort. CW: suicidal ideation.

--

They'd both been lying in silence for nearly an hour, but just as Miles was finally beginning to drop off to sleep, Julian's voice drifted up from the bottom bunk.

"Chief?"

Miles didn't bother to stifle his groan. "Yeah?"

"Do you—Do you ever think about dying?"

The unexpectedness of the question gave Miles pause, but after a second he scoffed, shaking his head. He was too tired for this.

"Go to sleep, Julian."

"But do you?

"'Course I do. We're in the middle of a bloody war."

Julian fell silent for a few seconds. Then Miles heard the sound of covers being pulled back and found himself looking into the anxious face of Julian Bashir.

"That's not quite—I meant, like... do you ever still have Agrathi thoughts about dying?" Julian asked quietly, eyes searching Miles' face, before darting down towards his feet.

"Bloody hell," grumbled Miles, sitting up and banging his head on the ceiling for his troubles. "It's two in the morning, Julian. What's brought this on?"

It was a stupid question, really. He knew the answer before the words had even left his mouth.

"I just... can't stop thinking about Captain Cusak, I guess," Julian says. "And some of the things she said. About talking to people, you know?"

"And you think I need to talk about this."

Julian shrugged. "I don't know. Do you?"

Taking a deep breath, Miles gave Julian the most reassuring smile he could muster - which was probably still more of a grimace - and shook his head. "I promise you, if I got that way again, I'd tell you, or Keiko: and she'd make me tell you. Go back to bed and stop worrying. I'm fine."

In all honesty, it was nice that Julian cared enough to ask - but it would be even nicer if it weren't in the middle of the freaking night, and so with that, Miles pulled up his blankets, rolled over, demonstrating to Julian what going to bed looked like. To his credit, Julian took the hint, and Miles soon heard the sounds of crumpling sheets and mattress creaks.

Peace returned, but that was far from enough to lull Miles back into even a comfortable doze. While he'd been quite honest in answering Julian's question, he couldn't help feeling like he'd missed something. The longer he lay there, the more uncomfortable he got with the silence below him.

By the time he'd figured out what it was, he was almost certain Julian must have fallen asleep - but that was no real deterrent.

"Do you?" he asked, into the darkness. The response came almost immediately.

"What?"

"Do you, you know... ever get those thoughts?"

"A bit." He could hear the hesitation in Julian's voice. "A lot, actually. Sometimes."

Miles' heart dropped. "For how long?"

"How long's a piece of string?"

"What's that meant to mean?"

When Julian didn't respond, Miles sat up again, intending to peer over the side of the bunk at his friend.

"What's that meant to mean?" he repeated, and - realising he was not nearly flexible enough to peer over the edge - swung his legs over the side of the bed and climbed down.

Julian was moving again, shuffling across, clearly making room for Miles to sit next to him. "Sorry, Chief," he said. "I didn't mean to worry you. I just... I was just thinking about it, that's all. Not—not that - about telling you, I mean."

"You're avoiding the question," Miles said gruffly, and Julian looked away.

"It means—It means I can't remember. Feelings... they're more difficult to pinpoint than events. I just don't know, Miles."

Miles frowned. "Not even an estimate? A few months? A year? Two?"

A bitter laugh escaped Julian, one that Miles really didn't like. "Try twenty," he replied, the number slipping off the tip of his tongue like it was nothing.

Twenty years was not nothing. Twenty years was a lifetime in an Argrathi prison. For Julian, twenty years was a lifetime. Period.

"Since you were a teenager?"

Julian shrugged. "Thereabouts."

Miles looked at him, really looked, at the well-worn lines creasing his friend's face, the ones he'd thought had only appeared with the onset of war. At his dark, sad eyes that Miles could remember being full of youth and hope and light. How could he reconcile that Julian with a teenager who—

Oh.

"The enhancements?"

His voice was quiet, as though that would make this conversation any easier on Julian.

"They didn't help."

"You... you didn't ever—"

"Do you really want to know?" Julian interrupted, his eyes hard and tired and wet with unspent tears. Miles was tired too; his heart was sore and his friend was far too complicated.

"Why start this if you don't want to tell me anything?" he asked.

"I have told you something!" Julian replied incredulously. "I'm just - I didn't expect you to make a whole conversation out of it!"

"Hah, as though you never made me talk after Argra—"

"That was different," Julian argued. "I was there, I saw you— I stopped you. This was years ago."

"So you did..."

Julian let out a long exhale, a sure sign that Miles had won the argument. If you could call it winning.

"Yeah," he said eventually. "Not immediately, but yes. With everything else that had been bubbling up over the years, when I found out what my parents had done..."

"Everything else?" Miles had thought that his voice couldn't get any softer, that his heart couldn't break any further. He'd been wrong.

Julian gave snort and a shake of his head. "We're not going there."

"Right."

Miles didn't know what else to say. What was there to say to that? A completely new history of Julian Bashir had been uncovered, one that Miles should surely have been able to discover before: if only he'd thought more deeply, asked more questions, been less afraid to entangle himself in awful, messy, emotional conversations like this...

"God, you were only fifteen—"

"Sixteen," Julian corrected, "by the time I actually tried—"

"Great. Sixteen," Miles repeated with a mirthless chuckle. "Because that makes it so much better."

Julian snorted, his face contorting into some strange sort of half-grin, and then he was laughing, and then he was crying, and Miles was holding him close, rocking him and soothing him and pretending not to be quietly terrified.

When Julian finally sat up, wiping his face roughly with his sleeve, they both looked away from each other, as though a lack of eye contact was enough to pretend that no emotional outburst had just happened.

"Seems to me," Miles said, standing up, "that you owe me a promise."

"Probably," yawned Julian, laying back down. Miles wasn't sure why he was bothering. Neither of them were going to get any sleep now.

But he guessed they had to try. "So do you?" he asked, as he clambered back into his own bed.

"I promise," came the quiet response. "I'll tell you, or Jadzia, or the captain, if—if... You know."

"Yeah. I know."

The room was silent once more, but only for a few minutes.

"Miles?"

Miles hated the way his heart started to jackhammer as soon as he heard Julian.

"Mmm?"

"Captain Cusak was right, wasn't she. It is good to talk."

"I'm not sure she meant we should substitute it for sleeping."

"I'm glad we did, though. I feel better now. Lighter."

I don't, thought Miles, but he couldn't say that. Julian's confession was a burden he'd gladly carry if it gave his friend even an ounce of peace.

"That's good," he said instead.

"I'd do the same for you, you know. Listen, I mean. If you want to—"

"I know."

"I know you don't like talking but—"

"Julian," Miles groaned. "I love you, but there's a time and a place and we both need to get some bloody sleep before it becomes morning again."

For a minute, Miles thought it had worked.

"Miles?"

Maybe if he stayed quiet, Julian would think he'd fallen asleep.

"Chief?"

Although, knowing Julian, he could probably tell if he was faking from hearing his ruddy heartbeat or something.

"Miles," Julian hissed. "What did that mean, 'you love me'?"

Well that settled it. Heartbeat or no, Julian would definitely not be getting any more responses from him.

"Miles?"

The bunk shook slightly, but thankfully it seemed Julian wasn't getting out again, only turning over and settling down. Miles dared to start counting sheep again.

"Don't worry, Chief," came the quietest of whispers. "I know you meant it."

[monarchetype]