#while also being sad about having no one of his own

[astralis-ortus]

when it's less-than-ideal

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— you can't judge a relationship only based on its good days.

w.count → 0.9k genre → comfort, a dash of comedy at the end warning → chan referred to as chris, babe, my love; reader referred to as baby and babe; kind of sad but it ends well♡ a.n → basically i'm projecting what kind of relationship-slash-communication style i want in a relationship, so... yeah. think i'll be on my own for quite a while, lol. anyways! i also have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop, do check it out♡ �� see masterlist

chris has been acting weird lately, and you don't know why.

you're usually not one to mind—given the way his schedules these days barely even spare the time for him to rest, you understand that your boyfriend is bound to be less like his usual self. you've sat down with chris to talk about it early in your relationship—the expectations, the ideal and less-than-ideal situations, the how-tos, and 4 years in, everything has all worked out just fine.

lately, however,

chris has been acting really strange.

"babe, i'm home," chris' voice softly echoed through the apartment, followed by the rustling of what you could assume is the layer of jacket and hoodie you got him to wear to battle the dropping temperatures of november seoul. "where are you?"

"kitchen!" you chirped, swiftly rinsing off the pots and pans you've been battling against for the past 10 minutes, "i'm still washing the dishes. are you hungry? i made some curry for dinner, it's in the—babe? are you okay?"

the cheeriness in your voice immediately turned into worry when you felt chris' arms around your waist, holding you tight as he allows himself to melt onto you, face buried in the crook of your neck.

after all the years of being at the receiving end of chris' special mix of physical affection, you've naturally learned to differentiate the meaning in your boyfriend's touches—is he just being affectionate? or is he trying to tease you? is he jealous of the interaction you had? or did he sense something and is trying to keep you safe? you have always been able to read chris just from the way his skin grazes upon yours, and so far you've barely ever been wrong,

but god, you sincerely hope you're hitting far from the mark this time.

"hey," you softly called out upon the absence of chris' response, quickly disregarding the dishes to rinse your soapy hands before turning to face chris' tired features, "is everything alright, my love?"

instead of an answer, chris simply leaned onto your touch as soon as your hands came to cradle his cheeks—ones freezing from the cold weather he just escaped moments ago, and only then, you realized just how long it has been since you've properly seen your boyfriend.

how come you haven't noticed the dark, looming shadow in his eyes? or the way his skin had lost its usual glow and instead grew dry with the season? how come you didn't see the way the corner of his lips had grown heavier, or the way his curls you oh-so adored had adopted its long forgotten frizz?

how come it took you so long to properly see chris?

"i'm sorry, baby," running the pads of your thumbs across chris' cheeks, you forced yourself to swallow the lump of guilt lodged in your throat, "i just realized i've been too inattentive to you, and i'm sorry. have you been wanting to talk it out with me?"

and only then, you saw the faint glimmer you fell in love with, peeking between the grey clouds in chris' eyes.

"yeah," despite the hoarseness in his voice, you could hear the warmth returning in the words chris uttered as he nodded, "but i just… i didn't know how to bring it up since i knew you've been dealing with your own stuff as well."

chris quietly exhaled, soft breath grazing your lips when he leaned his forehead onto yours and let his eyes fluttered close, allowing his walls of self-protection to finally crumble as he speaks, "i'm sorry, baby. it was never my intention to let this fester for this long or to make you feel bad in any way. i just didn't know how. i promise."

you know you're not perfect, and neither is chris—but you also know chris has always made it his life mission to make sure you're the happiest you've ever been when you're with him. one honest mistake will never erase the efforts and sacrifice chris has ever made for you, and you'll never let that happen.

"i know, baby," you hummed, lightly dragging the tips of your nails against his scalp when your fingers found the dark locks of his hair, "i don't blame you. i shouldn't have assumed about your condition and let it slip too. i won't let it happen again, i promise."

and you can feel the way chris' shoulder relax at the words you utter,

because just like him, he knows you'll do everything in your power to keep every single one of your promises.

"thank you, baby," chris pulled you into his embrace, completely engulfing you in his warmth while he pressed his lips on your forehead. "i promise i'll try to be better at this too, and thank you for being patient with me. i love you."

it didn't matter how many times have you heard chris whisper those three words in your ears, or how many times have he held you like you're everything that ever mattered to him,

chris will always make your soul feel the most alive it has ever been.

"i love you too, baby," you finally allowed yourself to smile as your arms found their way around your boyfriend's waist, holding him close as you listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat—

"…babe?"

"…yeah," chris sheepishly nodded while rubbing his stomach, "i haven't had lunch too, actually…"

a protest involuntarily slip past your lips along with the forming lines of frown between your eyebrows, perfectly portraying your disapproval of chris' course of action.

"go sit down, i'll fix your plate for you," shaking your head, you turned towards the pot of warm curry on the stovetop in faux disappointment before you continued,

"and we'll talk about whatever's been stressing my christopher out, okay?"

oh, you can definitely confirm,

the sound of chris' soft chuckle will never fail to bring a smile to your face.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[giamee]

╭┄───────────── 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐕! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

featuring. hsr men 〆 wc. 1.0k

art creds. 海仑 on weibo 〆 contains. mentions of being drunk/drinking, some suggestiveness but still sfw

gia's notes. new layout bc im allergic to keeping a theme 🏰 also i'm writing this while i procrastinate an essay. which is due in like.. 8.5 hours. and i am 2k over the word limit. joy upon joy.

╰┄➤ ❝ request. anon 〆 What HSR men says when they are drunk. ❞

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re SWEET when they’re drunk.

his voice gets a touch softer, a little lower so that you have to crane your neck and lean in real close to him to catch what he's saying over the bustle of the bar that you went to and the chatter of your friends that you came with. it’s like you’re in your own little universe with him, the sweet pinkish tint to his cheeks and the dilated pupils a look that you could definitely get used to- not that his usual more reserved look didn’t make your heart hammer in your chest, too.

but it's just so rare to see him like this, for him to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like every word that passes your lips is a prayer, whose hands furl and unfurl in his lap like he's itching to touch you (you wish he would).

it's not like he really says much, per se, instead opting to watch your every move wide-eyed and with a slackened jaw. you're growing warm under his gaze, and you stutter out that he'll really have to quit staring at you like that before you get the wrong idea. that does little to stop his actions, though he does flash you a sheepish smile.

"i'm sorry, you just look so beautiful."

you almost choke as you take a sip of your own drink.

gepard, dan heng (imbibitor lunae), moze, luocha

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re FLIRTY when they’re drunk.

it should be illegal for him to be this much of a smooth talker with that many drinks in his system. he's completely and utterly shameless, one arm rested casually against the back of your chair and his whole undivided attention on you as he throws every line he knows right at you hoping that one will land.

you'd be lying if you said that you weren't enjoying this attention from him, though there's the remaining sober part of you screaming how he's just a friend over and over, but when he dips his head low to whisper into your ear you're delighted to find that part of you audibly drown out.

everything about him is just so... tantalising. the way his silver tongue darts out to swipe across his lip, him not missing the way your eyes follow the movement. the way he leans back in his seat, the hungry yet calculating look in his eyes doing something to you. the way you see him deliberating over something before finally opening his mouth to speak.

and when he asks you if you want to get out here with him, it's only natural for you to accept his offer.

aventurine (realistically he gets sad when he drinks but that is not romantical or lighthearted at all) jiaoqiu, gallagher, boothill

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TALKATIVE when they’re drunk.

even on a good day, he's known to just talk, and talk, and talk if he gets going. that particular quality only seems to be amplified by the alcohol coursing through his system. he's been talking your ear off for the past half hour or so, a never-ending flow of words escaping his lips as he seems to he telling you just about everything that's on his mind.

you see the glances from others, the pity edging its way to concern adorning their features, but little do they know that you don't mind one bit.

while he may not be everyone's favourite to talk to, you've always found something within you compelled to sit and listen while he talks. he's always had something interesting to say, always been wary of if you are feeling tired or bored (not that you ever would be of him), and over your few encounters you've grown to be rather fond of him.

he's still talking now, an enthusiastic gleam in his eye as you smile and nod, propping your chin against your hand as you get comfy and study his features unbothered.

he sees the affectionate look on your face and stops for a moment, smiling widely and stuttering a few times before continuing.

dr ratio, sampo, mr reca, argenti

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TIRED when they’re drunk.

it's something that happened once, a few months ago when you had drank with them for the first time. you had all been in a group, and you had been chatting away with your friends rather livelily (i dont think that's a word) until you promptly felt a weight against your shoulder.

your reactions are a bit sluggish, but when you do turn to see just what it could be you're surprised to see a head of hair, and your tipsy brain just about manages to realise he's slumped over, dozing off on your shoulder, much to the amusement of everyone at the table.

you find it rather funny yourself, sneaking your phone out of your pocket to snap a rather unflattering-angled photo of him (which he still manages to look good in) that you send to him the next morning (he smiled to himself as he saw your grinning face in the corner of it and saved it to his camera roll).

you don't quite have the heart to wake him up or shrug him off, so you sort of just... let him be and continue talking like nothing had happened. some nondescript amount of time later he wakes up, blinking uncertainly as he gains his surroundings, before jolting up ramrod straight and apologising to you.

you giggle, tell him it's alright and tease that he must be getting old to be asleep this early, which is met with an unimpressed look from him.

but from that night onwards, it happens a little too... often to be some chance.

every time he drinks, without fail, his head drops onto your shoulder. it's somewhat of a routine to snap a photo of him like this, to admire it in secret before sending it to him, and it's somewhat of a tradition now for him to wake up and instead send you a reserved smile before letting himself doze off on your shoulder again.

not that either of you are complaining.

blade, jing yuan, caelus, welt

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

[applenicoshifts]

Personally, as someone who has mini shifted to these realities- and knows countless people that have shifted to a fewof these realities too, I only have to say: While its perfectly fine and GOOD to spread awareness about trauma, people don't remember that every person has different limits. I wonder; Why don't we say this about hogwart shifters? There's a freaking war going on in sixth year-seventh year? People die? What if you're friends with cedric? Or why do we only focus on those drs that are KNOWN as dangerous, but not the ones ppl don't usually know? I do agree in how it can be terrible but, let me bring an example. I have a friend who often shifts to JJK. She says, yes, it is not a nice experience to shift if you're unprepared. But, if you think you can handle it and are prepared: This reality is so worth it. The people and connections overcome anything. And yes! She has seen people die. A lot. She has exorcised curses. I myself happened to mini shift to the rumbling. And a thing I didn't mention in my post was how the smell of blood was also present. It doesn't haunt me, but it existed and I acknowledged it. It is incredibly sad some people truly get traumatised even back here (because, yeah you bring trauma back but, its genuinely relative from the person who shifts from OWN experience and FRIENDS experience.) after the things they have done or went through. But people with different moralities and different strengths can handle different things. While I am an aot shifter and a jjba shifter for example, I know bad things will happen but I also know I can handle them after what I've lived. It is NOT ok to shift to somewhere if you think you'll be genuinely hurt. The awareness spread by these posts is great! but please, lets focus on all kinds of drs--- and specially, those that are seen as less dangerous. Because mha and hp are as dangerous as aot and kny even if less shocking. Aot can be beautiful due to the people, specially with some script adjustments even if I'm a full canon shifter usually. So can KNY , so can jjba, so can jjk,and hell, so can a fame dr. Anything can be traumatic, but anything can be beautiful. Some people also go thereto heal their traumas related to what they've been through, so it makes sense they don't script out things. For example, I have a dr where my partner dies. And I've experienced that in this reality. And you'd say, I don't want to experience that shit again. But I need somewhere where I can mourn without being judged. And somewhere where I can be there for him in his last moments. That can be very taxing, but also healing. Not saying same thing about friends dying and shit, but, its always different for others and we need to remember that. I DO NOT condone literal kids going there though. No matter what they're not prepared. Nothing against OP since I think awareness is important and their trauma is valid and real. Im just using this post to share mi opinion

honestly shifting trauma is so overlooked its crazy

I agree. Like I know not a lot of shifters want to talk about how fucked shit can get but like it gets scary out there and I feel like it’s so irresponsible to pretend it’s all glitz and glamor.

Like genuinely I feel like a lot of people don’t understand just how real it is. Like obviously it’s as real as ours but it’s a really difficult thing to fully comprehend until you’ve actually done it. I worry so much for people shifting to places like Attack on Titan. Like are you prepared to see your friends get eaten alive in front of you. “Oh I knew that they were gonna die so I’ll be fine” these are real people you’re going to be in close proximity with you’re most likely going to get attached to in some capacity and even if you’re not it’s difficult to watch people die in front of you. And that goes for anywhere with any kind of violence. In Demon Slayer I almost threw up hearing and smelling demons, humans being devoured, etc. and it’s going to stick with me forever. I might not always think about it but when I do it fucks with me. The violence I’ve been forced to commit on other people because my life was on the line in most of my DRs fucks with me too.

I feel like we should talk about it more and we just don’t and it’s really upsetting cuz now I feel like I’m crazy for being so shaken about it, or being devastated by a friend’s death. Why should I feel weird for not being over the fact I was fucking strangled. Idk it just upset me that everyone wants to act like it’s got no flaws

[giirlblood]

caregiver ! vi headcanons !!

requested by @themoondropcollective . spinning around because i LAUV vi , he's one of my own fictional cgs (>/////< " ) . butch cg for eensy butch !! i refer to vi with he / him pronouns .. you can pry tmasc butch vi from my cold dead hands . it brings me comfort as a fellow trans butch to see someone like me :3 .. if you'd prefer other pronouns let me know but i default to he for him . that being said my vi is not a binary man pronouns do not equal gender :L .

vi is the silliest caregiver ever !! more like an older sibling in the sense that he doesn't have lots of rules && can't help but giggle when you get into mischief . he calls you lots of silly nicknames like nugget , bug , && squirt !! he teases you by calling you tiny sometimes as a nickname too but it always comes with a chuckle && a hair tousle .

while its my truth that vi is transmasculine he loves being called "mama" by his littles . you also call him "bubba" but he always melts when someone calls him "mama" or just "ma" . he does Not like being called mommy though . he's also okay with more masculine names like "papa" or "dada" as well && responds better to daddy than mommy though it's not preferred .

always telling you stories !! some of them are made up but a lot of them are about his life . he often gets lost in his tales but you hang onto his every last word .

loves to teach you new things . these little lessons often come with a little story of his own !! he notices you giggling && bites back a laugh of his own . " mama's silly , huh squirt." teaches you how to throw a punch but also about little everyday things like tying your shoes .

SOOOO protective .. literally your guard dog , he will not hesitate to throw a punch or clap back verbally if someone poses a threat to you . king of glares too , he scares away aaallll the meanies . always holding your hand && proudly calling you his little one . he often has his hand on your shoulder as a way to reassure you he's there for back up .

always including your stuffies in everything , he's so playful with them !! if you're sad he'll have them talk to you in silly voices to cheer you up && he has little conversations with them to make you giggle . sometimes he can't help but crack up himself .

he lets you play with his hair && put little clips in it . you love his hair soo much , the color is so AWESOME !! when his hair is longer he lets you style it however you like .

on the topic of hair he loves washing yours . it's super soothing for him && makes him feel closer to you . it's something so intimate that he treasures , running his hands through your hair , doing his best to learn all he can about how to take care of it if you have more kinky hair so he can meet all of your needs .

he's super good at braiding from always doing powder's braids && it's something that calms him down . if you have longer hair he's always happy to braid it — he can do all of the fancy braids !! he tries to teach you but your fingers are a bit clumsy what with you being so little .

even though he himself doesn't always practice safe binding he makes sure that you do . if you whine about it trying to point out that he doesn't he sheepishly says something like , "well you shouldn't do everything daddy does ."

[dp-marvel94]

Real -Chapter 2

Summary:

While hiding from his parents in Gotham, an ill-timed encounter with his neighbor, Jason, has Danny pretending to be his own twin. Fortunately for Danny, the more he pretends the easier it gets. Until he is not pretending at all. Or: Danny names a duplicate and via ghost logic, said duplicate ends up becoming real.

Previous chapter here

Also on AO3

Danny stays duplicated as long as he can. He stays awake long into the night, talking at Jamie more than with him. Still, words do come, slow and few and unsure as they are. And greater still… somehow, impossibly, the conversation is not just Danny’s own thoughts repeated back to him.

“You can take the mattress if you want,” Danny offers, his eyes growing blurry, fighting sleep. “I’ll take the couch.”

Danny wakes some time later, alone in his apartment. Jamie is gone. Or… may his duplicate is not. 

The half ghost frowns down at his own chest, brow furrowed at a novel sensation. A tiny spot of cold, just below his core. It seems to swirl and pulse, dimming and brightening.

Danny gasped, an awed surprise. He can… feel Jamie. The other is still there.

But… for just a moment, anxiety steals his breath. The feeling almost reminds him of being overshadowed. Pointdexter pulling him from his body, contorting his face. One of Vlad’s clones forcing him to transform, electricity searing his veins. Fear stabs at his core.

And the feeling echoes back to him.

“Jamie would not.” The words are in Danny’s head but they are not his.

Despite the fear, the words also ring with sincerity. And as unsettling as the foreign thought should be, Danny is comforted, no longer afraid.

“I know you wouldn’t.” Danny tries to reassure. He rubs where the cold spark is nestled just below his sternum, as if he can comfort the… not a duplicate. 

The half ghost corrects himself. “You’re not a duplicate. You’re…” He speaks, knowing Jamie can hear. “A clone, I guess. Like Ellie. Just… not strong enough to have your own body all the time.”

A whisper of sadness, of disappointment comes at the words.

“Give me a bit of time to recover and we’ll try again.” Danny soothes.

The pattern continues. Danny duplicates again, pulling Jamie back out into reality. Each time, he feels one of the gossamer threads connecting them break. 

The two do chores and try to cook together. Jamie’s movements are slow, requiring much verbal instruction. The twins watch tv or read, though the younger’s understanding is slow and often incomplete, like a lagging computer. Danny and Jamie play card games like go fish. The clone often stares at the card with brow furrowed, as if struggling to connect the number on the card to its verbal partner.

And yet, each struggle is a joy as Danny discovers more of his brother. Jamie is growing more confident, more sure. His words and actions quicken as his personality takes shape. The clone has his own likes and dislikes, his own opinions. At first unsure, mild, emotions half-hearted. But… those too, those new found emotions, are strengthening.

About two weeks after that fateful conversation with Jason, their neighbor knocks on their door. Danny jerks his head at the noise, eyes fixed in equal surprise and panic; he hadn’t heard anything from Jason since that day, had half-thought that the man gave up on getting him to open up after that chilling conversation.

“Coming!” His voice cracked, stepping towards the door.

Frantic, Danny reached, mind and arm, to Jamie. It is easy and automatic, the impulse to put on the act, to prepare to pilot a duplicate,.

But the clone slaps his hand away, scowling. “Do not control.”

Danny blinks, realizing. He’d been meaning to puppet Jamie, like he was just an empty shell. His stomach twists with the violation. “Sorry.” He blushes, shamed.

“It’s fine.” The other just waved him off, though Danny can feel his annoyance buzzing through their connection.

And for just a moment, Danny marvels at it; earlier Jamie would have been afraid if he had tried that. But now… the response of anger, something so much stronger and solid. His twin’s ability to feel is growing. A thing of awe.

Jamie raises a brow, pointing at the door. And Danny shakes away the feeling. “Okay.” He breathes out. “Be cool. We’ve got this.”

Danny opens the door to let Jason inside and for the first time, their neighbor meets the real Jamie, though unbeknownst to him. 

Jason invites the twins back to his apartment, offering fresh tamales. And in turn, Danny and Jamie offer a version of the truth.

“What do you think of metas?” Danny starts hesitantly.

Jason raises a brow. “People are people. I don’t care as long as you aren’t using  powers to hurt other people or yourself.”

The older half ghost lets out a breath. “There was… an accident.” Danny bits his lip. “After I… we could do things we couldn’t before. We hide it from Mom and Dad.”

“They… aren’t good people.” Jamie adds. “Hate people that aren’t normal humans, alway think they’re right.” 

“They found out and did not react well.” Danny frowns, aimlessly rubbing his shoulder where his mom had shot him as he escaped.

“So we ran away. And ended up here.” His clone finishes.

For a long moment, Jason silently frowns, brow wrinkled with worry.

Danny’s eyes widen in alarm. “You’re not going to call CPS, are you? Or the police?”

“No.” The man shakes his head. “Damn kid. That all sucks.”

“Yeah.” Jamie shrugs, head falling.

“What are you going to do?” Danny swallowed.

Jason sighs. “I know someone that works at the Wayne Meta-human Support Foundation. Maybe they can get you some funds so you can quit those shitty coffee shop jobs and go back to school.”

“But it’s almost summer!” Jamie complains at the idea of going to school.

Danny tries to hide his side-eye, surprised at his clone protesting on those grounds of all things.

“You could start in the fall. Gotham schools are shitty but they’re better than not graduating at all.”

“Or they could attend Gotham Academy.” Damian’s scoffing voice cuts in.

The twins flinch at the same time, both looking towards the window where the boy’s voice came from.

“What are you doing here?” Jason’s voice carries a scowl.

Meanwhile Danny blinks, brow wrinkling in confusion. “Did you climb up the fire escape?”

Damian just tsks. “You were not answering your phone. Richard needs both of us for a project.”

The older brother sighs. “Give me a minute, Dames.” Jason turns to the half ghost and his clone. “Think about what I said.” He scribbles something on a piece of paper, handing it to Jamie. “This is Duke’s number. He’s Damian’s foster brother. B ended up fostering him through the meta-human foundation. He can tell you more about it.”

“Okay, we’ll think about it.” Jamie looks up, smile sincere through the palpable worry.

Jason gives an approving nod, then stood expression shifting. “I am glad you’re feeling better, kid.”

“What’s that mean?” The clone asks, nosing wrinkling with just a bit more plain confusion than offense.

“You were sulking the last time we talked, didn’t speak a word to me or Danny. But you look better today.” The man claps his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak this much.”

For just a second, Jamie hazards a look at Danny, a flicker of uncertainty. His eyes return to Jason. “It’s been an interesting two weeks. But we’re doing better.”

The man apparently catches the shared look. “I’m glad you worked out whatever that was.” From the window comes another tsk. “I’m coming, Demon Brat. And maybe this time let’s use the door like a normal person.”

Jason and Damian leave. Danny and Jamie return to their apartment. And Danny’s eyes soften, studying his twin with new eyes. 

“What?” The other raises a brow.

“You do look better.” Jamie looks more solid somehow, more present in a way that Danny knows is invisible to a normal human. The clone smiles softly, the crease of his lips unquestioningly real. And the light in his eyes… “I’m so happy you’re here.” The spark is brighter than ever.

Jamie shrugs. “This was your doing.”

“Yeah, I’m the one who made a duplicate. But,” Danny chuckles. “I have no idea how you’re real.”

For a second, an expression flickers on the clone’s face. It ripples through their bond, an emotion that Danny does not quite understand. Something like self-doubt…

“Can we watch a movie?” Jamie cuts in with unusual earnestness. “The one with the clown fish?

“Yeah.” Danny blinks, his twin’s subdued feeling dismissed by surprise; Jamie actually asking for something was a pleasant first.

Another afternoon and night with his twin. Jamie manages to surprise him with a joke. To bright giggles, Danny discovers where his brother is ticklish. The clone learns to reciprocate. But the separation still only lasts until Danny falls asleep. 

“We need to try something else.” The half ghost groans into his hands in the morning. “There’s gotta be some way for you to last longer than me nodding off.”

“It lasted longer than you falling asleep.” Jamie’s voice in his head answers.

“What?” Danny blinks in surprise, head jerking up.

“You fell asleep. Half an hour alone, then gone.” The words are said almost casually, as if the clone hadn’t thought to mention this until just now. He probably hadn’t.

“Jamie, it’s on your end. The problem’s on your end.” There is no annoyance in the words, just excitement, a newly blooming hope. “That’s it! Next time, you need to pull yourself away from me.”

“But… that’s not… not possible.” Jamie stammers the words, doubt radiating.

“Sure it is!” Danny stands, motioning emphatically. “Let’s try it now.”

For half an hour, Danny stumbles through an explanation of how to duplicate. The cold spark that is Jamie churns anxiously, flailing feebly and at random.

“Can’t do it.” The clone grits out, frustrated just as Danny’s body flickers intangible.

Danny rubs his sternum comfortingly. “Dude, you just managed to turn us intangible.” A proud smile quirks his lips. “Maybe we can start with basic powers. You can overshadow me, for the lack of a better word. We’ll work up to actually duplicating.”

Jamie does not respond with words. Still Danny feels his misgivings.

“It’ll work.” The half ghost reassures. Just then his phone alarm goes off. “Actually… I guess this will have to wait until after work.”

“Good.” The clone huffs. “Tired.”

The exhaustion is almost palpable, though distinct from Danny’s own energy level; he feels quite well rested. “Go to sleep then.” He encourages. “I’ll wake you up when I get home.”

Jamie hums a sleepy good night into Danny’s mind. His cold spark seems to condense, the churn of its energy slowing into something almost solid.

The half ghost hums questioningly, for just a moment wondering. Is that Jamie’s core, trying to form? Danny prods his own, a discrete spherical ball of energy in the center of his being. It would be solid, in the same place as his heart if he was in ghost form. Now though it is phased just out of reality, in the same dimension his body slips into when he turns intangible.

Jamie’s spark is just as intangible; he can’t actually feel it if he presses down with his fingers. But the energy is diffuse, always churning faster or slower in seemingly random circuits.

Danny’s phone alarm rings again and he dismisses the thought. He does have to get to work after all.

Danny does not have to wake up Jamie when he gets home, as the clone quietly mutters into his thoughts on the bus ride home.

“Did you sleep well?” The half ghost asks silently.

“There were pictures.” Jamie muses. “Riding a dinosaur, petting a kitty. Ice cream. Brain freeze.”

Danny just manages to hold back a chuckle. “You were dreaming.” This is an exciting first. “Do you remember what dreams are?”

A hum of confirmation. “Remember Danny dreams.”

“Do you remember some of my dreams?” That’s not surprising; talking to Jamie over the past two weeks had revealed that the clone shared many of his memories.

“Yes.” A fearful shiver. “Plasmius is scary.”

And now Danny feels guilty, his stomach churning with feeling. He’s giving Jamie his nightmares, his trauma just by the nature of what the clone is. And he made the decision to pull him into the mess that is his life.

“Want to exist.” Jamie reminds him, prodding his core with a measure of comfort, despite the lingering chill of fear.

“Yeah. We already decided, didn’t we Jamie?”

Another buzz of agreement.

When they arrive back at the apartment, Danny and Jamie get started on their practice.

“Don’t be nervous.” Danny reassures, already feeling Jamie’s hesitation. “I trust you.”

The half ghost coaxes his twin into the driver’s seat. “You need to stretch. It’s like… oh man, is this gonna sound weird… my body’s a suit of clothes and you need to stretch to fill it. Just… move it like it was your own body.” He chuckles awkwardly. “It should be easier than my first time overshadowing someone. We look exactly the same.”

Danny breaths, letting himself retreat into the back of his own mind. Anxiety pours from Jamie, buzzing across their connection. But the clone does as instructed. 

Vertigo overtakes Danny as the two seem to switch places. His body gasps without his permission. The body wobbles, falling to its knees. 

Distantly, Danny feels his chest heave. A moan rises in his throat, slowly morphing into stuttering letters. But his tongue is awkward. It clips his teeth, earning a hiss of pain.

Danny soothes the clone piloting his body. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Jamie does so. Slowly, finally. “You’re so heavy.” The shaky words exit his mouth.

The half ghost would blink in surprise if he had use of his eyes. “Really?”

The clone has no response. Instead, he shakily pulls the body to its feet. He stumbles a few feet forward, nearly falling over the kitchen counter. The hand pricks a knife Danny really should have put away before now. With a gasp, Jamie jerks the fingers away. 

Again, the body ended up on the floor. Overwhelmed, the clone pants. But… slowly, the anxiety shifts. A shakily hand rises to the face, eyes fixed on the red blood welling from the fingertip. 

“It’s okay.” Danny tries to reassure. “We’ll wrap it up and it’ll heal.”

But that was not what had the clone captivated. “Heavy. Blood…” Shakily, the other hand rises to the chest. “Heartbeat. Hu… human. This body… is human.” Again, Jamie looks at the sluggishly bleeding finger. “Danny is.. Is human.”

So much surprise, confusion screams into Danny’s mind. But he does not understand why; what has his twin so freaked out?. “Yes, I’m human?”

“But… Jamie doesn’t…. This isn’t….” The clone pinches his eyes closed, straining for words. “Jamie is… is a ghost. Yes? A ghost, not… not human.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawns. “I guess you are. A ghost I mean.” Anytime Danny duplicates, the secondary body is made of ectoplasm, a ghost even if the appearance is human. Of course Jamie is the same. “No wonder this freaked you out.” Guilt pricked at his core. “Sorry, Jamie. I should have thought about how weird being human would be for you.”

Jamie does not respond for a long while. A tangle of emotions vibrates through the twins’ connection. Too many for Danny to parse, but the strongest… 

Finally the eyes open, head shaking. “Is… is Jamie supposed to be human too?” Something like guilt rises through the words. 

The feeling of inadequacy is enough to break Danny’s core. “Jamie. Jamie, my baby bro, little twin, clone of my own core.There is not supposed to be here. You are supposed to be exactly what you are. Full ghost or halfa, I don’t care. I just want you here, by my side.”

Jamie nods, tears rising in his eyes. “Better practice then.”

“That’s my Jamie.” 

[respectthepetty]

Joke's (Sad) Face

This post is about Joke's face.

But it's not about his actual face.

It's about his Joker face.

While Joke was surrounded by Jack's blue at the hospital, I just couldn't stop thinking about how pretty War is.

Which is why it's so tragic that his character, Joke, spends so much time being sad.

He has been sad since the very beginning and has remained in this state throughout the series.

Which is probably why he created the red Joker moniker.

A joker is a trickster. A joker is similar to a jester. A joker should be happy.

But Joke is anything but happy and his sadness began when he was child who couldn't cope with academic stress, so he began to use the sad face.

Then a kid he never met fixed his frown and turned it upside down. Jack made him smile.

And years later, at a bar late at night, that kid would make Joke smile again.

By simply sitting with him.

Joke was sad about his life, and Jack told him that it was okay.

Then he told him to smile.

Because like I believe, War Joke is so beautiful when he smiles.

Jack, with his blue (spray bottle), has been wiping Joke's sadness away for years, even without knowing it.

And as Joke returned to his childhood home to all the sticky notes marked with red sad faces, he believed he would never be as happy as he was with Jack again.

The time Joke spends with Jack is the happiest of his life because Jack makes Joke happy, which is why Joke got the smiley face tattoo.

Because Jack was a truly happy kid when they first met, and gave that happiness to Joke.

But things change.

Joke's other tattoo is of a dual smiling face and sad face, and when Joke approached Jack after five years, he said he wanted to bring back the old Jack. After that encounter, Jack asked his grandmother if he had changed to which she responded that he couldn't stay a kid forever.

Jack let Joke escape in the fashion event. Jack was blamed for the necklace being stolen, yet showed up to the hotel to help Joke. Jack put himself in the way during the fight to keep Joke safe. Jack always turns the worst situations around and has sacrificed parts of himself as a result.

So Jack is darker now. He is no longer blue. He is black. He can't be Joke's source of happiness when he is struggling to find the good in life himself, so while Joke is in the hospital surrounded by Jack's blue with family and friends, Jack sits alone wearing a red shirt with one tiny lamp to give him warmth.

Jack has his grandmother, who blends both his and Joke's colors, but she's all Jack has ever had, and now she cares for Joke just as much as she loves Jack.

And this is a point Aran made in the very beginning and Hope repeated this episode — Jack, just like Save, doesn't really much. He doesn't have options. Joke does. Jack had to do what he had to do to survive and keep his grandmother safe, but Joke gets to return home to a family and a room that has been kept spotless. Jack doesn't. Well, not if he doesn't fight for it.

And that's what hurts. Jack has to fight for everything. So even though Joke has done a lot for Jack, Jack has done just as much for Joke. He gave Joke a place to stay, food to eat, friends, family, and happiness when Joke had nothing to give and nowhere to go. Jack himself has nothing, yet still gave Joke everything he has had to fight for, including his limited happiness and even the last bits of his color.

So it's important that the episode showed Joke not only giving Jack his color, but also his happiness. Joke has finally turned his sad face into a happy face, on his own.

Joke is depressed, and for so long, because of that, he believed that he couldn't be a source of happiness. Yet on this journey, he has brought happiness to his friends, grandma, and countless people along the way, so here he is, not only giving his color to Toi Ting and Jack, but also his happiness.

Jack has never wanted to see Joke's sad face, which is why he gave Joke his happiness.

And now that Joke is realizing that he is happiness, hopefully Jack never will.

But they'll have to fight for it first.

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

To Love An Emperor

Apparently a few of you also wanted to see Caracalla being a crying pathetic mess so he is a little something I wrote on my dinner break today

@byronking @ange-olras you guys all asked on my original post so I hope this is what you wanted ❤️

Part 2

A small servant girl broke the peace of your chambers, the large wooden door scraping across the tile caused you to snap your head away from your book, staring at her silently as you awaited what commands she had been sent to give you.

You watched the petite young thing bow before you, he voice soft and high pitched as she spoke. "The Emperor has summoned you, my Lady". It did not take you long to figure out which one had summoned you to his chambers before you nodded to her and waved her away. With a sigh you closed your book for the night and began to dress yourself, you did not think the the Emperor would care if you were in your night dress but manners and respect dictated you would present yourself in a manner beffiting of him.

The long walk to the royal chambers gave you time to steel yourself for what you were about to deal with, it must have been another one of those days in the council chamber, Geta shouting and and throwing things around the room, something that had become all to frequent as of late.

Your footsteps echoed down the hallway as you approached your destination, surely the Emperor would hear you approaching and be ready to recieve you. Gently you pushed the guilded door open, not wanting to make too much noise and disturb him further. As you stood in the door way you spotted Caracalla perched on the end of his bed, his head in his hands, he had been crying again.

You sat slowly beside him on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, gently rubbing it trying to reassure him somewhat, not that it ever worked before. In one swift movement Caracalla moved to kneel on the marble floor before you, pushing himself between your, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and burying his head into the fabric covering your chest. You could hear his muffled sobs against your chest as you stroked the back of his head, waiting for him to stop. Geta must have been particularly brutal to him today, you had heard the vituperative way he spoke to him before and it certainly would have broken a lesser man a long time ago.

"Why does my own flesh and blood treat me this way? Is it not enough that he tried to kill me in the womb but now to kill my spirit as well?" You never answered him, you knew he didn't ever want an answer, he just wanted to vent out his feelings someone who would not report back to his brother, making him look weaker than he already felt around him.

After a while the tears stopped, lifting his head away from your chest, your clothes now wet from his tears. Caracalla sunk further down onto his knees, his sad wet eyes looking up at you, pleading for love and acceptance, you had been the only one to ever understand him.

His hands gripped at the fabric on your waist, clinging so tight as if you would disappear from him. "You love me don't you? You think I'm good enough?" The tears began to well in his again, threatening to spill forth once more, making his blue eyes sparkle like sapphires, his voice shakey and desperate.

You cupped his face in your soft hands, smiling as you felt him lean into your touch, craving as much of it as he could get. You stroked the tears away from his cheeks and placed a delicate kiss upon his head. "Of course my Emperor" Your words soothed his tears and ignited him at the same time, feeling his lips crash roughly against your own. Caracalla did not care if you meant those words or not, it was all he wanted to hear, to feel your affection and to be loved.

[msunitedstatesjames]

Rating Veilguard companions based on their living spaces:

I'm coming up on the last handful of missions in Veilguard, and I noticed that I hadn't really spent all that much time looking around the rooms of the companions. I pretty much burst in and out, only staying long enough to hear whatever they have to say. So I decided to do a more in depth look. (There will be some moderate spoilers ahead if you haven't worked your way through most of Emmrich's companion quests.)

7. Lucanis

Okay, we've all heard the reasoning behind Lucanis's room of choice, but this "room" is still sad. As awesome as access to the kitchens is, this is just a straight up trauma room. That's without even mentioning the perilous number of candles near the bed of such a haunted (literally) man. But, at least he has somewhere to sleep, unlike some others, and he has plenty of supplies of citrus fruit, so scurvy won't be an issue.

6. Emmrich

I hate to rank this one so low. Not only is Emmrich my romance of choice, but I'm a huge book lover in real life, and I love this aesthetic. But this man doesn't have anywhere to sleep! He's in his 50s and has nowhere to sleep! Much has been said about where he might be sleeping every night. Does he sleep on the corpse slab? Does he sleep in the big red chair? Does he curl up in front of the fire like a hound? If he was 19 maybe those options would be feasible. But I'm in my early thirties in real life, and the idea of spending a night on a hard floor/slab is already unbearable to imagine, and sitting upright all night is only done if I'm so ill I can't do otherwise. No bed is just unforgiveable. Also, he's stuck with the skull and spirit of his former friend/rival seemingly listening in on everything and critiquing him constantly. Imagine just minding your own business and having a skull call you "moldering" while implying you're too old to be with your partner of choice. On the other hand, I envy the shelf space, the spiral staircase, and the gorgeous balcony view.

5. Taash

Maybe Taash likes having a gloomy room, I don't know. But sometimes this room looks like a straight up dungeon. Also, though there is some good functionality for training and such, the room lacks daily functionality due to the sheer amount of stuff everywhere. I get that Taash is a Lord of Fortune and treasure hunting is like their whole thing, but like, does Taash really need multiple huge stacks of silver bars and random sheaths of fabric here in their temporary Fade bedroom? What's the point of having so many tables if none of them have any more room to set things on when you actually need to? Some of these rugs are fantastic though. And Taash is one of only two companions with a real bed, so that counts for a lot.

4. Bellara

This is more workshop than bedroom, which I guess suits Bellara well enough. But there's a couple of issues here. First, there's some pretty spiky tools a little close to her cot. God forbid she has a nightmare and jerks upright out of a deep sleep, she'd get slightly impaled. Also, imagine trying to sleep with the smug face of the Archive looking out at you all the time. And don't forget the room is just full to bursting with mirrors. That seems like a confusing, hazardous, headache inducing horror. There is some cool elven decor though.

3. Neve

Neve has a pretty tiny space compared to some of the others, but I guess it's fitting for a noir style detective. She does have a bed, though it's only a less than stellar cot. She also has a bunch of wisps stealing her stuff all the time. But she has a beautiful view, more privacy than some of the others, and a nice desk, which is essential to a detective. And in the end this room is kind of gorgeous.

2. Harding

This whole place is fabulous. The plants are amazing. The magic butterflies are enchanting. The giant ceiling flower is beautiful. Harding doesn't have a real bed, but she has a canopy and a bedroll, which she's probably pretty comfortable in by now after 10+ years of being a scout. I also like that this room grows and transforms over the course of the story. Personally, I think this is the most aesthetically pleasing of the rooms, and I imagine there's some crickets in there to give you that peaceful summer evening soundtrack.

1.Davrin

Davrin's biggest advantage is the simple fact that he has a private sleeping area with a real bed. No one else has both of those things. On top of that, it's a functional space for he and Assan. It's open and has a nice perch for easy Assan access. It has shelf space for his carvings. He has lots of cool knick knacks. He has lots of natural light and a great view. But after looking more closely at his space I almost dropped him down a spot for one reason. NUGS. Did I miss a dialogue line about his love for nugs? Because there's A LOT of nug memorabilia in this place. There's a taxidermy nug with a face only Leliana could love. There's little nug carvings. There's bigger nug carvings. There's drawings of nug anatomy. I don't know if I'm more freaked out by the idea that Davrin brought them or the idea that Solas left them. Still, he does have a cozy fireplace/chair combo, as long as you don't mind being watched by the empty stares of a thousand lifeless nugs.

[neon--nightmare]

SO EACH FRESH PARASITE CANONICALLY HAS LIKE,, ONE ‘POWER.’ fresh doesnt have one bc he can use the abilities/magic of the host body, which his other parasites can’t!! the powers also get stronger the more they age, but not only is it rare for fresh parasites to even live long enough to take a host (fresh usually produces them involuntarily, spits them out into a bucket, and crushes them all into powder bc theyre competition and put him directly at risk) they tend to either get tracked down by him later or well. die due to other circumstances bc they were just born and tend not to be the best at subtlety/controlling and using their power with zero experience <- I NEED TO MAKE A FRESH PARASITE OC LORE GUIDE SOMETIME

toffee’s (my fresh parasite oc) power was literal emotional manipulation (e.g. if they touched you they could make you feel what they wanted, not by overwriting your current emotions BUT more just. adding them on top.) but they also had all the subtlety of a steamroller because they were barely a few months old AND could only do the most basic emotions (happiness, sadness, fear, anger)

oh toffee my toffee.. iirc if they lived long enough for personal growth theyd end up with DEBILITATINGLY low self esteem. if someone you cared about was sad and you had the ability to smother their misery out with happiness, calm them down and make it easier, wouldnt it be at least a little tempting to take it?

especially if all your life, that was your gift, your solution to every problem related to others you had, and your ticket to survival in a world that wants you dead merely for existing. you never knew anything else, how to comfort, help, how to be genuine. how to care, when being cared about, any living thing knowing the abomination that you are - it’s terrifying, it’s risky. you’re not very strong, you’re small, and you’ve never known one day of peace in your own short life. never the kind word of a parent, of a friend, of a partner. since the day of your birth, wriggling away like a leech as all your ‘siblings’ were crushed to dust behind you, the only one you’ve ever had is yourself.

and how would the other beings even react if they found out that the whole time they’d known you, any of your emotions weren’t theirs? the joy with you, sadness, fear was magically induced, and you never told them. they can’t trust any of their memories with you. it’s a defense mechanism, but you still did it. you still made the choice, over and over and over again. how could that ever be forgiven? tampering with minds leaves marks, after all.

and if just by being around you the people you cared about felt supernaturally happy, how could you trust that they actually liked you for YOU and not just what you could do for them? they don’t even know you’re a parasite, that the host body you’re forced to take for survival is in constant pain, agony, where the only alrernative is rolling over and letting yourself die. how could you trust if anything they say, the love they profess is true! everyone adores you, but they don’t adore you. they’ll never like you, so does it even matter?

isn’t it easier to shut down, not get attached, not let yourself care? it hurts less that way. treat them all like toys, keep yourself on top. no, better not to think about it at all. you’re just doing what you can to keep yourself alive, to see the sun crest the horizon again tomorrow. distract yourself, take advantage, manipulate, run, run, little thing, and never stop to think. or the awareness of what you are and what you’ve done will destroy you, and there’ll be nothing left.

(slushie’s under the cut so this doesn’t get TOO long!!)

while slushie’s (second fresh parasite oc’s) power was fast regeneration (if their host body was hurt it healed much faster than normal, usually without scars or visible cracks/fractures!) they were very clumsy and developed a very, very high pain tolerance. since unless they were wounded enough to actually lose a limb or something, which they hadn’t yet, there were no consequences besides an unpleasant yet deeply familiar sensation that faded in like, an hour maximum. in their mind that’s how it is for everyone, just a fact of life.

whatever accidents you get in, whatever happens to your host body, it doesn’t matter! you’ll be fine, without a scratch. the idea of a life where you don’t bleed magic every day and wake back up in the morning is nearly impossible to fathom. you nearly die, let yourself be torn apart willingly by those you latch onto with a smile, and get back up, again, and again, and again. you can’t trust anyone who doesn’t hurt you, it’s too unfamiliar, it doesn’t make sense, that’s what you live for. why do others look so horrified when you mention it?

that’s just the way things are, were, and always will be.

[pinkblastbear]

randomly thought of a Christmas Gentlebeard au with Ed being the Grinch and Stede being a who.

and they start slowing falling in love with eachother while also falling in love with themselves and Christmas again

just thought about it now can’t stop oh my god

[dykedvonte]

Something something perhaps the reason Curly lacks a truly undamaged ID where his face is visible is to represent how much damage Jimmy had already affected on him throughout their relationship and the way Curly obscured part of who he is and what he stood to unintentionally cater to this toxic influence in his life.

[bunnieswithknives]

sorry if idk this but what do you think about Wordgirl now in 2024 do you still like it do you still want to make art or talk about it or are you just done with all of it forever and plus i seen that you haven't made art of it since 2022 so you just done with all of it oh yeah and what about The Magnus Archives + Wordgirl ao3 fic too like is that just going to be and i know that your working on 2 au's now just wanting to know that's all

My interests tend to come in intense bursts and then fade. Unless something like, big happens like it gets a reboot its unlikely I'll be coming back to it anytime soon. As for the fic I don't have any current plans to finish it unfortunately.

[sqlmn]

Lightning, water, and fire! Like forever before the plot starts. By the time the plot starts, the lightning and fire deities have been subjected to punishment by the two gods that picked them.

Oh (the fire deity) is first to be punished. They basically decide that since they're going to live for a long time, gotta set some long time goals! And they opt to be the wrath of the gods since most of the other deities are too 'soft' in their opinion. So Oh just. Smites humans. This isn't really a /good/ thing and in their defense mentally, they do it to help Ymber since he's the softest of them all. So their punishment by the gods is to be split in two, effectively halving the power of one into two. (Now they are in a male and a female body and use both male and female pronouns apart since they together make they but apart it feels weird to be they. But prior to the split they use they/them. Also the split bodies go by the names Ohiwe and Ohime.)

Fulj is the second to be punished. She falls in love with a mortal woman and that is a crime according to the gods. Mortals and immortals are not to be together and it will only bring suffering to both sides. So her punishment is her memories of the woman are stripped and her body basically broken to the point she can't remain physical all the time.

Ymber, unfortunately, is the one who blames himself for the discoveries and punishments. If he had only tried to restrain Oh more then maybe they would have chilled out and stopped before being punished. If he had only tried to persuade Fulj to not continue seeing the mortal woman so often perhaps she wouldn't have been punished. So he's just increasing the guilt on his shoulders every day that he remains unpunished since the elder gods have both laid down to rest. They can't enforce their laws anymore and none of the deities are keen on harming one another at this point. They just want to continue existing in peace.

[sysig]

You’re gonna die if you keep that up (Patreon)

[agentartemus]

I thought today was a good one..

[nthflower]

I hate Nate fallout tbh like not the concept of male sole survivor but default Nate as sole survivor. He is just what? A soldier who loses his wife and baby how original.

A normal lawyer who loses her husband and baby and then turns into a terminator post apocalypse to find her baby is funnier.

Plus being a lawyer in the post apocalypse is more interesting than being a soldier post apocalypse.

Like a lawman in a lawless world, first trying to find her baby but then fights for the rights of people and against injustice. But this time not only in the courtroom but also with being a double agent and using her fists as her mind. Becoming a defender but in a different way.

Also I hate soldiers and I love women so I am super biased btw <3