ROUND 1A Competitors, unedited art.
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ROUND 1A Competitors, unedited art.
COME ONE COME ALL TO FINCH'S JAFFACULE HEADCANNON SILLYNESS, details under the cut
Anonymous said: Your Duncan looks very friend shaped and I think he needs a hug 👉👈
The members of Honeydew Inc. would have to agree!
another silly bracket, another silly doodle. yogs fans...i command thee!!!! dont let them get their asses beat again
(@mcyt-trios; vote honeyphosna and receive yr veterans' discount!)
favorite Yogscast polycule?
honeyphosna (honeydew x xephos x lalna)
hatsome (alsmiffy x djh3max x trottimus)
shatsome (alsmiffy x djh3max x trottimus x sips)
parvilldog (parvis x strife x ridgedog)
nanodewmadia (nanosounds x honeydew x lomadia)
bangory (bedgar x angory tom x brryhrry)
hatsounds (alsmiffy x djh3max x trottimus x nanosounds)
ridgebopprocessing (ridgedog x bebopvox x verbalprocessing)
zoethiana (zoeya x lalna x rythian)
kirbycule (briony x kirsty x rythian)
poly yogs (all of them!)
op, you forgot (ship)! (leave in comments/reblogs)
sick fic - yogscast fic
Honeydew sat up in bed, casting a bleary eye around the room. Lalna, who had slept incredibly poorly, was grateful the older man was conscious. The other man - dwarven constitution and bullheadedness combined to disastrous effect - hadn’t realised he was sick until he’d passed out next to the forge. Xephos almost had a heart attack and had been tending him all night, alongside an increasingly peaky Lalna. He was pretty good at it, but his knowledge of medicine was either purely biochemical or (concerningly) surgical and he’d been pesting Lalna with questions until Lalna had had to hurl, upon which he’d gone full mother-hen mode and pushed him into bed alongside a snoring Honeydew. He looked fine already - Lalna was sure his fever and the high temperatures near the forge had just caused his blood pressure to drop and he’d already slept off the fever as only a dwarf could. Lalna, on the other hand, could tell he was settling in for a few days of creaky discomfort and runny noses. Xephos had left some time ago, ostensibly to get some fresh water and fever reducer, but he hadn’t come back in a while and Lalna was starting to feel miserable again.
“Glad you’re alive, mate. How are you feeling?” Honeydew scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
“Fine, so much for my dwarven constitution, fainting like a little girl and all that.” He paused, before frowning. “Where’s Xephos?”
“He was playing nursemaid to you all night, kept asking me questions and bustling about - he may have just fallen asleep on the way back.” Honeydew looked pale before heaving himself out of bed, swaying slightly on his feet. “Whoa there, you aren’t ready to go running around yet - probably - settle back -”
“That idiot!” Lalna startled backwards, not ready for the real frustration pouring from the dwarf. He turned, near dragging Lalna from his bed. “If he's drowning in a puddle of sick somewhere I’m going to kill him myself! Idiot! He should have hid on the other side of the base!” Lalna felt dizzy as he was tugged along the halls, the stop-starting as Honeydew kept checking every cranny rattling his brain in his skull.
“What do you mean? If he gets sick it’ll be miserable but -” Honeydew stopped short, glaring up at him.
“Some kinda Doctor you are - he’s from fucking space! He got a cold from a snotty brat one time and died!”
“Space?!”
Honeydew looked at him strangely. “Yeah? What, you think I call him spaceman for shits and giggles?”
“Yes, actually! Neither of you ever talk about anything personal!”
He huffed, looking away. “Not much of it is worth talking about.” Lalna’s head couldn’t help but spin. Xephos’ immortality was quite simply the only reason the man hadn’t long died from some childhood illness - he must be so unadapted to the local diseases, to say nothing of the fact Lalna hadn’t even thought to see how respawning affected the creation of memory T cells.
“Shit - shit shit. You’re right - why doesn’t he wear a mask? Why didn’t he quarantine when he saw you were sick?” The both of them were frantically checking over rooms, both of them remembering various times the other man had slinked off into a corner to bleed out rather than receive medical attention.
“Because he’s a soft hearted idiot! - Fuck - Xeph!” Lalna rushed over to where Honeydew was already crouched next to a deathly pale Xephos, the glow of his freckles near totally absent. His breath was rough and wheezy, and it looked like he’d partially aspirated. Stamping down his instinctual panicked flailing, Lalna pressed his fingers firmly to Xephos’ radial artery, staring at his watch as he timed his pulse. It was weaker than he’d like - sitting at about 125 bpm which was. Not at all good, but not imminently fatal. They didn’t have anything to set up an IV drip but he was pretty sure had had a few vials of amoxicillin-clavulanate laying around. It’d burn going in and he’d have to deliver it slowly, but it should stop the aspiration pneumonia he could hear in Xeph’s rasping breaths from getting any worse. Their infections themselves were viral, so there wasn’t anything he could do other than give fever reducers and keep him hydrated, just like Xephos had been doing for him and Honeydew last night as Lalna had whined about how rubbish he felt.
He felt real fucking rubbish now.
“Honeydew - Lalna.” Xephos’ voice was rough, and his eyes hazy. He pressed himself into the both of them, shivering slightly. “‘M cold. Tired. Sorry I forgot the - the stuff.” Honeydew had grabbed a washcloth from gods knows where and was wiping the bile and sweat from Xephos’ feverish face as he sat there, placid but whining softly at the cold cloth.
“Well?” Honeydew looked at Lalna who startled out of his internal dosage calculations. “Is he -”
Lalna sighed, not taking his fingers from Xephos’ wrist. “He's rough, and I’m going to have to give him some strong antibiotics, but he’s not deathly ill. It might actually have been better that he was running around when it happened, if he’d been laying down and as weak as this he’d probably have drowned.”
Honeydew swore, face paling. They were immortal, but - well. Dying couldn’t be nice. Xephos clumsily pet Honeydew’s face, frowning at how upset his friend looked. “ 's ok. I just - I need a drink and. And a sit. I’m ok, friend.” Honeydew just thumped his head heavily on Xephos’ shoulder, the other man petting at his messy hair. “Don’t - don’t worry, friend. Don’t worry.”
Lalna pulled himself to his feet, feeling like he’d aged a few years over the last 10 minutes. “‘Dew, can you get him back to the room alright or do you need a hand? I need to grab some stuff from storage but it can wait a minute if you need the help.”
Honeydew shook his head, lifting Xephos with a practised ease that could only come from hundreds of adventures. “He’s a twig, I’ll be right.” Xephos let out a soft whine as Lalna turned to go, fingers tangled in his lab coat. Lalna’s heart did something complicated as he carefully removed his hand before brushing a palm over his forehead, cool against Xephos’ fever. The other man sighed before relaxing into Honeydew's hold, muttering something incomprehensible into the dwarf’s neck that made him chuckle.
“Come back quick, right? I don’t need to go running around looking for you too.”
Xephos has two hands and they’re only for holding both Lalna and Honeydew’s hands. The end.
but all the possibilities
no limits, just epiphanies