#cw: hate speech

[cuubism]

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.

[transexualpirate]

REDBERRYTERF WAS BANNED!!!!

we did it folks!!!!!! RACIST DOWN @dysphoria-things @xxblotchy-scarsxx @420weedwhacker69 @our-queer-experience FUCK YEAHHHHHH

[rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world]

Repost from @muslimciviccoalition:

Honor Wadee’s memory and take a stand against all hate. Urge your senator to support the Wadee Resolution!

Wadee AlFayoumi, a six-year-old Palestinian Muslim American, was the first victim in the U.S. following the events of October 2023.

Misinformation, systemic discrimination, and dehumanizing rhetoric lead to increased hate crimes targeting Palestinian Americans and other communities.

TAKE ACTION‼️Link below:

[sourisking]

I don’t like proshippers because I was groomed by one.

Not because I think freedom of Speach should be limited (have seen that argument from proshippers). Not because I’m a puritan (don’t call people that for thinking RPF is a little strange). And not because I simply hate shipping.

I was groomed by a proshipper, and it makes me hate all proshippers because they almost always act like she did.

[greencheekconure27]

Another clown from the notes:

Their blog:

The very fact that these people feel safe to post this stuff out in the open these days is a disgrace.

[boyccubus]

people make me sick sometimes.

[fymo-blogs]

shrimpo stimboard

Alrighty!

Warning for hurtful speech below cut! (Nothing like slurs, just text saying I hate you)

🧡|😡|🦐

🍤|🔥|🌊

♦️|🪫|🤍

Shrimpo stimboard

Requested by: Anon

Themes: Shrimp, orange, white, hate

Note: I hope he gets thrown into a volcano /lh

Song:

[curtwilde]

Source

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

just got called a faggot by a cishet girl 👍

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

i found this lore entry recently and have not stopped thinking about it since. it is HYSTERICALLY funny to me that fandaniel's villain origin story was just being a fuckin boomer

One of few great minds in a land that had seen the slow, yet steady numbing of its people's intelligence, Amon long lamented the sorry state of Allag , concentrating his early scientific efforts on developing medicines to increase mental capacity . He soon realized that it was not knowledge that the Allagans lacked. If anything, they had too much. What his people lacked was a leader. With a renewed sense of focus, Amon shifted his studies to the field of vivimancy, and soon was conducting experiments on his own flesh in order to attain his final goal - the resurrection of Xande the First.

— Encylopaedia Eorzea Volume I, p. 25

[enbycrip]

The genocide in Palestine has really been bringing home to me how deeply certain groups have learned to use the language of social justice as a weapon to muddy the waters while they are enacting horrendous violence.

In a way that “gender criticals” appropriating feminism hadn’t, actually, because a lot of transphobic violence, like misogynist violence, is more hidden and more complex. I could see how a pretty privileged cis person might not see it, or think it was “complicated”. (None of which means it’s excusable, btw. It’s just less fucking obvious than an entire country being carpet bombed).

But the fact that the UK and the US are openly funding Israel to mass murder children, civilians, journalists in Palestine and using protections against *hate speech* to shut down criticisms of it is fucking killing bits of my soul.

*While* doing fuckall to protect ordinary Jewish people from rising antisemitic violence from white supremacists. Who are bombing and shooting up synagogues as well as mosques and indigenous American water protectors in the US and beating up Jewish and Muslim folk in the UK.

[enigmakiwi]

Political ads where I am are fucking crazy right now. 4/5 ads I get on YouTube are condemning a senator for 1. Daring to be even a little bit human towards illegal immigrants and 2. Thinking trans women are women. Mostly the second one. I wish I was joking. I can't watch YouTube on my tv anymore without being inundated with "SENATOR X IS LETTING TRANSGENDER BIOLOGICAL MEN IN GIRLS CHANGING ROOMS AND FORCING WOMENS SHELTERS TO TAKE IN TRANSGENDER BIOLOGICAL MEN. HES ADVOCATING FOR SEX CHANGE SURGERY ON MINOR CHILDREN. HES LETTING TRANSGENDER BIOLOGICAL MEN INTO WOMENS SPORTS. DID I MENTION THE PART ABOUT SEX CHANGE SURGERIES ON MINOR CHILDREN. HES SO RADICAL LEFT THAT HE THINKS PUBERTY BLOCKERS AND SEX CHANGE SURGERIES ON MINOR CHILDREN SHOULD BE ALLOWED. SEX CHANGE SURGERY ON MINOR CHILDREN. SEX CHANGE SURGERY ON MINOR CHILDREN."

Meanwhile this guy is like. So incredibly NOT radical in the slightest. But it's making me insane. In the past, usually they at least kind of tried to be subtle about transphobia, or usually they'd just focus on other issues, but now it's purely completely mask-off, bold, open transmisogyny full of fearmongering lies and misleading statements.

The wording really gets to me. Specifically using "girls changing rooms" instead of women's to imply that trans women are specifically a threat to children and make them seem more scary and evil. Bringing up puberty blockers only alongside "sex change surgeries on minor children" to make these two things seem equal in severity and magnitude. And they're very, very careful to always use the phrase "transgender biological men," and that just makes me even angrier— they'll do anything to avoid calling trans women "women" in any capacity, and they want viewers to not even consider them women for a second. It's all tricks of manipulative language I'm familiar with and can recognize, but I'm sure the target audience likely is not and can not.

These ads and the language in them would've been absolutely insane to see a couple years ago, but now... this is normal. Several highly promoted political ads which focus exclusively on transmisogyny... Vile.

[kosherplasmid]

Kill kikes. Behead kikes. Roundhouse kick a kike into the concrete. Slam dunk a kike baby into the trashcan. Crucify filthy jews. Defecate in a kikes food. Launch kikes into the sun. Stir fry kikes in a wok. Toss kikes into active volcanoes. Urinate into a kikes gas tank. Judo throw kikes into a wood chipper. Twist kikes heads off. Report kikes to the IRS. Karate chop kikes in half. Curb stomp pregnant kikes. Trap kikes in quicksand. Crush kikes in the trash compactor. Liquefy kikes in a vat of acid. Eat kikes. Dissect kikes. Exterminate kikes in the gas chamber. Stomp kike skulls with steel toed boots. Cremate kikes in the oven. Lobotomize kikes. Mandatory abortions for kikes. Grind kike fetuses in the garbage disposal. Drown kikes in melted lard. Vaporize kikes with a ray gun. Kick old kikes down the stairs. Feed kikes to pigs. Slice kikes with a katana.

I'm sorry for the path in life that lead you to feel you have to spread hate. I hope you find joy soon.

[crimeronan]

one of my viral posts has reached a tiny sad circle of terfs and it's so funny. they're not adding commentary bc it's not trans-related they're just using normal tags, they have no reason to think i'd notice them on a 20k note post. i know the general protocol is to fly into a rage and snarl "terfs don't touch" and combat them in public due to them being the scum of the fucking earth but honestly (THIS IS NOT GOING TO GO A TRANSMISOGYNIST ROUTE) terfs please keep touching. i've spent the past hour-ish finding all the misogyny and misgendering on ur blogs to fill out detailed tumblr reports n gank u and ur shithead moots for hate speech. most of u have apparently been banned at least once already and can't even Pretend to follow the TOS which makes my job easier. and is also so fucking funny and sad. anyway read this in the tone of a cheesy anime villain monologuing at the protagonist about a carefully-laid trap or whatever. destroying fascists' blogs and online networks makes me very happy and i don't get to do it very often due to pesky self-care and whatnot, so. thank you all for this. 💕

[platoniromantic-feelings]

Content warning: suicide mentions, hate speech, and aphobia.

I just came across a blog (now reported and blocked) that was commenting on aro-ace positivity posts "kill yourself" and similar things, claiming that "aroace is not real".

I don't think anyone has ever told me to kill myself before.

I didn't expect it to affect me as it has. I knew that these things happen; that horrid people say horrid things like that; so I didn't expect it to make me cry.

Why? Why should I be told by a stranger on the Internet to kill myself because I don't experience certain forms of attraction to other people? Whom am I harming by being aro-ace? Why does this person genuinely believe they know better than others what attractions those others experience? Why does that blogger care about whether other people — perfect strangers — experience sexual and/or romantic attraction or not? Seriously, why?

And why on earth is it worth telling someone to commit suicide? Where did that level of hatred come from?

I'm now supposed to go about my day knowing that some people think my lack of sexual and romantic attraction means I am unworthy of life.

Which.

Is a very stupid opinion and must come from a very sad and tormented person.

So in that sense it is almost funny. One of us is living a life that heavily features hatred toward a harmless and already marginalised group, while the other is going to wipe his tears and have another cup of coffee, and go outside to enjoy the sunshine today, and continue being extremely asexual and platoniromantic.

It is deeply upsetting, but also very stupid. I hope that pitiable blogger with their misplaced hate learns the error of their ways someday, and I hope that all my fellow aromantics and asexuals have a blissful day free of aphobes.

[bungerisme]

Making a post here as a warning.

Dead ass don’t go on roblox mic up 17+ if ya got thin skin. As stupid as that sounds don’t go on there. There’s a rampant racist problem with people wearing full on KKK avatars, people yelling out slurs, homophobia/ transphobia galore and so on. Even religious nuts who will make stands to force their religion down peoples throats.

You may be asking yourself. Why do you go on there?

Cause despite the toxicity it can be fun at times. And without a few good kind hearted people on there would be no safe spot for people to talk to, chill or hang out there. I’m a very social person so servers like this are the most active and the best for me to access. I also in general got thicker skin, am able to tune out that stuff and/ or report it, sadly am used to that kind of behavior thanks to some not so great people in my life.

If you want to help fix the problems there- make sure you’re at least above the age of 17- I would recommend 18 or older as it is extremely unsafe there for minors. (Penis avatars, sex jokes, etc). You can help the place by reporting people and for those more skillfull than myself, can expose these people for their atrocious acts.

Not tagging as Roblox as I don’t want kids finding this post and then going “huhuhu yeah I am gonna break the rules” cause it has happened more than once.