plot bunny of the day…
Jegulus breaks up after Reg gets the mark, but ends up having sex one time that James is at Hogwarts for Order stuff at the end of Regulus’ last year at Hogwarts, which leaves Reg pregnant (yes, Reg is trans in this). Regulus then proceeds to tell absolutely no one about this kid, not sure even Barty or Pandora and just tells everyone he has to go to Paris for some potion training for a year (which he actually does) and disappears from public life for a year.
When he comes back, he buys an apartment for himself and his son (let’s call him Leo, I’ll come up with something better later) where no one is ever allowed except for Kreacher and Leo’s tutors. Now, this kid isn’t secluded from public life, he has a very normal life actually, just he’s never seen in public with Regulus. Why? Well, initially it was just because he didn’t want his family to know about how the kid came to be, but he also wasn’t willing to abandon the last gift James ever gave to him, as he’ll later refer to his son.
Then, however, the fact that our Regulus is still planning Voldemort’s downfall with Pandora also came into the picture, so he’s afraid that if they get discovered little Leo might be in danger. After that the story goes pretty much as we know it, except Reg doesn’t die in the cave since he tells Pandora that he’s going because this time he’s not taking chances, he has to go back to Leo. He also doesn’t leave a note for obvious reasons.
However, he knows that he’s still very much in danger of one day never coming home to Leo, so as soon as Leo turns 5-years-old he gives him a letter and a jar of chocolates that he’ll refill periodically, then he tells him to eat one and only one (he charms the jar) every day and that if the chocolates ever run out he has to take the letter and find James Potter.
A few days after Leo Black’s 8th birthday, the chocolates run out, and an 8-year-old shows up on James’ doorstep with a letter from a long lost lover that goes:
James, my dear angel,
if you’re reading this, I’m probably dead or worse. I will never be able to thank you for everything you have given me, and I’m so incredibly sorry to have to place this on you, but I have one last miracle to ask you…
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Which one is the mask? Daredevil/Matt Murdock
I think that, to some extent, they are both the mask.
When people write about this, they (tend to) talk as if Matt Murdock and Daredevil are two personalities placed into one mind, two definitively separate halves of a whole. I don’t necessarily agree with that. Matt Murdock is Daredevil and Daredevil is Matt Murdock, and there is no sharp line between them only a blur. They are just different aspects of one personality, unbalanced when viewed without the context of the other.
I do get the ‘two halves of a whole’ thing, and I think there is an amount of truth to that. But there is no clear separation between the two, no point where Matt Murdock ends and Daredevil begins.
Those who only know Daredevil would think of him as brutal and violent, which he is. Yet those who only know Matt Murdock would think of him as soft spoken and charming, and he’s all that too. Daredevil and Matt Murdock are not mutually exclusive. They coexist.
I also think that this is why Foggy doesn’t seem to accept that Matt can’t just give up being Daredevil. He knows Matt, has never known Daredevil so he finds it hard to accept that this soft spoken and charming guy is a brutal and violent vigilante. Matt acts as the mask there. (@ceterisparibus116 very much inspired this take)
(Plus, the (literal) mask isn’t what makes Matt Daredevil. The anonymity it provides allows him to be a vigilante, but removing the mask doesn’t erase what created/fuels Daredevil, it simply removes what enables Matt to physically be Daredevil.)
In short: Daredevil and Matt Murdock are not separate entities. They are simply different characteristics zoomed in on in a way that ignores the other parts entirely. Both are incomplete without the other, both are the mask.
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BOTCHELOR SHOWCASE!!!
Former sergeant Kup can be a friend to any bot, His casual and jock personality makes him the go to bot to talk about life or just have some fuel at his favourite oil house^^. These solar cycles however, he’s just living his carefree retired life without that much of a purpose (— —;) Will you be the bot to get this ol’ rust bucket back on his pedes?
Kup is one of the lovely Botchelors in @avoidghost ‘s upcoming dating sim Tender Loving Circuits, you can get a chance to snag the spark of this lovely bot and many others 😉
You can help support this project through their Patreon, where you’ll get access to exclusive content such as speedpaints, gameplay WIPS and even get to play the scrapped demo!
Remember to support this amazing project, Ghost is doing a phenomenal job and is the sweetest person ever so be sure to send them all the love (and moolah lol)
(Tender Loving Circuits Mock-up logo was created by the talented @kenzashour)
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Dabi sneaks into your room while you shower, makes himself entirely too comfortable when he sprawls out on your bed. You’re in the conjoined bathroom showering, completely oblivious to his presence until you step out. You gasp at the sight of him, hands instantly clenching onto your towel before you relax, rolling your eyes with a huff as you go about gathering your lotion.
“Who the hell invited you in my bed?” You ask him, voice holding much less malice than he had expected. Dabi only chuckles under his breath, stretches like some stray cat getting entirely too comfortable in their found owners home. You cut your eyes at him, watching his Cheshire smile as he rests his hand on his folded arms behind him.
“Didn’t know I needed an invitation, sweetheart.” He tells you, pouts a little when you throw an empty water bottle at him. “Last time I was here, you were begging me to stay—“
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just announce yourself next time, I damn near had a heart attack.” You snip at him, turning your back as you drop your towel. It doesn’t do much to hide you though, as you stand in front of your floor length mirror, cutting your eyes at the man who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you entered the room.
“Can I do it?” Dabi asks quietly, finally sits up when he sees you picking up your lotion, hands splayed and ready. You eye him warily, trying to figure out what he’s up to you, but the sincerity and wonder that gathers in his eyes is enough to sway you. Your answer to him is a hum as you hand over the lotion bottle, turning on your heel so you can face him head on.
Dabi stands quickly, stares you down as he makes his way to you, his form lanky and tall, heavy boots loud in the quietness of the room. When he grabs the bottle, his fingers glide against yours, and he makes quick work of lathering it into your arms. He rubs cheekily at your chest, grinning up at you when he flicks your nipples just to watch your nose scrunch as you mutter about him being a little creep.
He kneels in front of you, rubs the lotion between his hands, warms it just so with his quirk, works it into your legs and calves. You rest against the mirror placed on the wall behind you, head thrown back as you hum under your breath, moaning slightly when he lifts your foot and rests it on his knee to slather your toes down in the lotion, cracks the knuckles there to feel you jump before relaxing.
He guides you to turn around, works on the backs of your thighs, kisses the cellulite and dimples there as you reach a hand back to stroke his hair. When he stands, he crowds you, hands squished between your bodies to massage your back gently.
“I’m hard as a rock right now,” Dabi admits under his breath, eyes glancing up at your own in the mirror reflection. You tut at him, smiling softly, as his evidence is pressed into the small of your naked back, and you welcome him with a little wiggle of your hips.
“You’re obsessed with me.” Is all you give him, biting your bottom lip when Dabi nips at your neck, when he grinds against you, fits the shape of his cock between your cheeks.
“Yeah.” He agrees, breathily, easily, as if the sentiment is as simple as breaking into your house and admiring you like some lazy, domesticated stray that you always seem to welcome with open arms.
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