#I should probably start tagging this right

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Reunion

Masterlist

Pairing: Dick Grayson x (f)reader

Tags: NSFW, future angst, toxic, you cant fix him, smut, grad school, halloween, Dick is the reader's friend's ex's best friend, reunion, oral, penetration, praise, heartbreak, heartbroken reader,

The last time you'd been at a party like this was in freshman year. Now, in your twenties and in grad school, you were surprised to be at a Halloween house party - on Greek row, no less.

What was the harm? You were dressed in a Men in Black costume with your best friend, Jo, which made you look like a duo rather than a lone target for the inevitable creeps. Plus, you knew a bunch of people here, so it could actually turn out to be a fun night. In your black leather skirt and white button-up, you had chosen an outfit that was both fun and flattering. The fitted blazer - which you borrowed from your sister - accentuated your figure well. Your outfit had been recognized on the walk over by people calling out, "Men in Black!" From across the street.

As you stood with Jo on the front porch while people amoked around you and music blasted from inside, you were waiting for the host to reply with the text containing the entry code. Suddenly, Jo called out, "Dicky!" before being pulled into a hug by someone. You looked up just as “Dicky” turned toward you, and in a heartbeat, you found yourself pulled into an unexpectedly warm embrace. Lean muscles pressed against you through the thin fabric of a black button-up, undone just enough to reveal a glimpse of toned chest.

A low, teasing voice laughed in your ear, “Bet you don’t remember me.”

Your voice was small as you murmured, “No…” but then you caught sight of his face - and your heart skipped. Athletic build, sharp jawline, flawless blue eyes, and a smile that could probably melt glass. Oh, you remembered him.

“It’s Robert’s friend,” Jo grinned at you, helpfully filling in the details.

Right. Robert’s friend, Dicky. Dick Grayson. The eldest Wayne brother. That Dick Grayson.

In your periphery, you caught eyes of party goers following your exchange. A mix of intrigue and excitement shown in them. A few people nudged each other, whispering, but Dick didn't seem to notice. Holding himself with indifference, as if used to it.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Three years ago.

You’d just finished celebrating a friend’s 20th birthday, and as the night wound down, the pub your friend group frequented started emptying as people were heading out for the night. Your group gathered their coats and stumbled into the crisp night air, chattering and laughing.

Your friend, along with her boyfriend, Robert, stopped you at the door. “Hey, girl, you got a ride?”

“I’ll catch the bus,” you reassured them, gesturing at the stop down the block.

“Don’t take the bus,” a new voice interjected. “I’ll drive you.”

“Oh-” You turned toward Dick as he flashed his keys. The sound of his Subaru unlocking accompanied his offer. “You don’t have to.”

“C’mon, you don’t live that far from me anyway.”

And that’s how you ended up in a car with him.

You’d asked, just to be sure, “You didn’t drink, right?” caught for a moment by the way his eyes turned to catch your gaze. You tried to keep your cool, but your blush gave you away. You blamed the booze.

A glint sparked in his eye. “What, you don’t trust me?”

Your fingers fidgeted nervously. “If you drank… then, no.”

He smirked, showing perfect teeth. “I can be dangerous when I’m sober, too.” With a mischievous look, he sped up just slightly, the engine roaring. “Do you trust me?”

Your breath hitched, but this time, not with fear - with excitement. You tried to tell yourself, 'Pull your dumbass head out', especially since he had a girlfriend. Or... a friend he was making out with. Who didnt leave with him...

Still, your body didn't listen, as the thrill of his speeding up made you grip the seat belt tighter.

“Maybe you shouldn’t…” you whispered.

“I think I should.” His grin widened, and the car sped up even more.

You couldn’t help laughing to yourself. There was something irresistibly reckless about him, and he obviously knew it worked in his favor. Something that made your pulse race. Your backward, illogical pulse.

You hadn’t noticed your thighs pressing together. But he had.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

You blinked, bringing yourself back to the party, back to the present. You smiled up at him. “Yeah, I remember you.”

“Good." He grinned, slipping his hands casually into his pockets. Those blue eyes, with their signature teasing glint, roamed over you as if he were taking mental notes and enjoying every reaction you made. "Men in black?"

"Y/n's idea!" Jo grinned at him. "Costume took us all of five minutes to put together... something like that, right?" He turned to you for confirmation.

"Yeah," you said absentmindedly.

"And what are you?" Jo turned back to Dick. A dark angel?"

You took in his outfit. Black button up, undone at the top, black feather wings on the back, and a black halo held by a headband around his head.

"Lucifer," Dick corrected.

"Ah, nice!" Jo gave a slow clap.

Dick smiled a cocky smile, and then his gaze shifted to yours. "It's good to see you."

There was a new air about him. He was taller, his frame still lean but solid with muscle. He looked every bit the man you once knew, now more rugged. Hed changed, but so had you. Back then, you’d been easily impressed by boys. Now, after a serious relationship resulting in awful hearbreak followed by a handful of flings, you knew the game better. Experience had a way of tempering those old thrills.

“Nice to see you too,” you said, trying to play it cool, though a flicker of heat crossed your cheeks.

“Waiting on your friend?” Dick asked, noticing you glancing at your phone.

“Yeah,” you muttered, a little annoyed. “My friend Penelope’s one of the hosts, but she’s not answering my texts.”

He didn’t hesitate, stepping away and speaking briefly to the guy at the door. A moment later, he came back. “Give him the cover, and you’re in.”

“Thanks.” You smiled up at him, grateful.

“Anytime.”

Before you could say more, a voice cooed from the side, “Oh, Lucifer…” A girl in a Hogwarts costume sauntered over, pressing herself against Dick's side with her hands running up his torso. “Come corrupt me.”

You offered a polite, close lipped smile as she gave you a once-over. Yep. This was the Dick you remembered. Never alone. Always surrounded by admirers.

“See you inside?” he asked, eyes already on her, a grin on his face.

“Yeah,” you nodded, hurrying past them.

Inside, the party was in full swing. The house was packed, music thumping, and you wove through the crowd, recognizing friends and catching up with the occasional shouting match over the blaring speakers. Finally, a hand grabbed your shoulder, and you turned to see Penelope in an American Psycho costume with the plastic raincoat covered in blood. “Girl, you made it!”

“Yep!” You hugged her, laughing. “Cool party! How’s it going?”

“Chaos,” she rolled her eyes. “People have been sneaking in without RSVPs, and we’ve been chasing them out all night-"

Suddenly a ring came from her phone and she brought it up to read the screen, then offered you an apologetic look. "Someone just broke the fridge door, I gotta go-"

You waved off her apology, pulling her toward the dance floor. “Let someone else deal with it. Lets enjoy your party, bitch!”

She gave up fighting and pocketed her phone, then began to dance to the music. The two of you fell into the rhythm of the crowd, and as the drinks started kicking in, you let yourself melt into the music, eyes closed, the bass pulsing through you.

A low voice murmured behind you. “Didn’t know you could move like that.”

You turned to see Dick, grinning as he joined you on the floor. “I used to do ballet.”

His brows rose. “How did I never know that?”

You shrugged. “Guess it never came up.”

His hands settled lightly on your waist, pulling you toward him. “Well, I have to say,” a mischievous smirk played on his lips as he leaned in close, his voice soft and warm in your ear. “It did wonders. You’re damn sexy when you dance.”

You felt your cheeks heat. “Where's your girlfriend?”

Dick laughed to himself. There was a thrill in making you flustered, a satisfaction that came from knowing he could draw out that blush. He shook his head, amused. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“What about Miss Gryffindor?” You raised an eyebrow.

He laughed, nodding in realization you meant the girl from earlier. “Ah, yeah. I just met her here. Don’t even know her name.”

“Oh?” You felt the tension ease only slightly, though a quick look around made you oddly self-conscious. The music, the people packed around, the way he was looking at you-all of it made it feel like you two were too close.

Dick caught sight of a phone camera aiming his way, likely hoping for a candid. He turned slightly, hiding your face without you noticing and giving them a polite but distant nod. He was used to this game.

There were too many people here, he dicided. He leaned close to your ear. “Wanna go somewhere a little quieter?”

Your brow quirked, your rational side already on alert. Of course. Dick Grayson might look like a dream, but he was still a guy. “And do what?”

He smiled, something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “And have some fun." He grinned, undeterred by your unimpressed expression.

Part of you longed to lean into the proposition. But another part screamed at to be cautious, to remember that opening your heart again could lead to more pain. You had decided a while ago that, at least for now, you weren't ready to commit your time and energy into a relationship. "Look, I appreciate the offer. But I'm not really looking to get tied up in something -"

"I'm not offering to get you tied up in something." He smirked. "I'm offering we fuck. Just one night. Between two grown ups who know what they want."

You blinked, and suddenly, the proposal became appealing. One night? No strings attached and, more importantly, no heartbreak? And as far as guys at this party went, you could do a lot worse than Dick Grayson.

"No strings attached?" You looked up at him

"You have my word." He make a show of putting his hand on his heart.

Fuck it, You thought. Let him show you what everyone was gushing about. Timidly, you nodded up at him. "I'll just tell my friends know where I'm going."

"Let them wonder." He waves off, careless. Truth be told, you realize you don't really know how to deal with your friends' reactions to you leaving the party with a him. Instead, you pull your phone out and send your group chat a quick text.

Ditching. Going home with someone )) see y'all tomorrow.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

"You still drive the same Subaru?" You said, making yourself comfortable on his leather seat. He even had the same seashell decoration on his rearview mirror. Your hand rose to touch it.

"You remember Morticia?" Dick asked from behind the wheel, turning the engine on.

You couldn't help the snort that ripped out of your mouth. "Right, Morticia. I forgot."

"Yeah, how could I trade off my baby? She's seen me through thick and thin." His fingers tapped at the wheel as he pulled up out of the party.

You nodded, rolling your eyes at how predictable men were. Boys and their toys, or however the saying went. "So, what are you up to? School? Work?"

"Police academy." He flashed you a signature charming smile.

You blinked, and your brows rose in surprise. "Oh wow, just like you wanted."

"I had a plan." His gaze was on the road ahead. His voice took on a serious tone.

"Thats great, Di-" you began to say.

"What about you? How's law school going?"

It was your turn to face the road. "It's... okay."

He hummed. "Doesn't sound like it,"

You huffed. "I dint know. I guess I idealized it too much. Turns out studying the law has a lot to do with getting away with crime rather than preventing it."

He didn't respond at first and you turned to see him grasp at the wheel, knuckles white. "Yeah... Tell me about it."

You swallowed, wondering what his reaction was about. "Is it like that at the academy, too?"

"There's corruption everywhere in this city." He said with a tone of disappointment. "And anyone can be bought."

You were surprised at this new side of him which you've never seen before.

You cleared your throat, then, in an attempt to lift the mood, said. "Well, here's to hoping idealistic dreamers manage to stay on the good guy's side. Hmm?"

He grinned at tyat, blue eyes still studying the road. "I like the sound of that."

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Dick still lived in the same apartment building you once visited two years ago. He pulled into the familiar parking lot and shifted into the park. As you walked into the unit of his medium-sized livingroom, taking in the humble decor, comfortable furniture, matte colored wallpaper. What stood out the most was the sheer mess of books tossed and scattered around the place. You remembered Dick to be pretty messy. You didn't remember him being so studious.

You walked over to his coffee table and picked up an open book, flipping it to read the cover.

Forensic Pathology Throughout the 21st Century by-

You nearly dropped the book when you felt his lips on the back of your neck. Dick's frame was so much bigger compared to yours, his arms easily framed you from the back as you felt his body heat on your back. You sighed softly as his lips trailed down your neck, his hand coming up to brush your hair aside.

"Wanna know something?" He whispered in your ear, the warmth of his cooler scented breath tickling your sensitive skin.

"Yeah," your voice was just above a whisper.

"I had a bit of a crush on you when we first met." His voice lowered with the confession.

You smiled a melancholy smile to yourself. You had trouble believing that. In your experience, guys always said what they knew would get them into bed. "Really?"

He turned you to face him. His eyes studying you with amusement. "You don't believe me."

You grimaced at being caught. "You realize that I'm already at your place, right? You don't need to say anything to get in my pants."

He made a show of looking down at your outfit. "You're not wearing pant-"

"Dick," You smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

He caught your wrist and lowered his face to meet your eye to eye. "We were at Richmond's pub. You, me, Robert, Laura, and I think... yeah, a couple more people. Your friend came over to visit you from another state, and you invited her to join."

Your eyes switched between his as he spoke, remembering exactly that night you talked about.

"And we all had a bit to drink. And everyone was talking so fucking much. And laughing. And shouting. There wasn't a moments peace that night. Except," he said, cupping your chin. "Except for your corner of the table."

You raised a brow, prompting him to continue.

"You just sat there." He went on. "Quietly, and observed. But every time someone said something , you gazed at them as if it was the most interesting thing on earth. There was wonder in your eyes that I just..."

"You just...?"

He shrugged, then lowered his lips and met yours in a heated kiss. You sighed into the kiss, and he deepened it, his tongue swiping past yours. You stood this close for a long time. When you pulled apart, Dick looked like he physically yearned for more. "I just wanted to kiss you so. Damned. Bad."

Your breath sped up by that time, catching up on the breath you'd lost to the kiss, your mouth dropped slightly in astonishment. "You still remember that?"

He nodded, pulling you back into the kiss. As you leaned into him, he unbuttoned your blazer, followed by your blouse, then loosened your tie, trailing kisses down your collar and breasts until he reached the hem of your skirt, asking. "Take a step back for me,"

"Okay," you nodded, obeying until your back hit the wall of his living room.

The scenario was so random. You never thought you'd end up liek this tonight. Backed up against the wall of Dick Grayson's apartment, clothes disheveled, strands of hair falling on your face as the eldest son of gothams, the wealthiest dynasty kneeling at your feet. You'd be amazed, but in truth, you were still processing what he told you earlier. He remembered a very specific moment. That even you didn't think of as significant. And yet... it had meant something to him. You suddenly felt your heart warm.

You risked a glance down, seeing him lift up your skirt, pulling down your panties.

His blue eyes focused on yours as his tongue slipped past his lips, and he leaned closer, swiping it through your folds. Unable to handle the intensity of the view, you bit your lip, wanting to shift your gaze away, but... you couldn't. It was like his gaze physically locked yours in. His lips wrapped around your core, tongue quickly finding your clit with enthusiastic licks.

"Oh," your hand shot to cover your mouth as your head rolled back against the wall. Shaking fingers combed the black locks of his hair as you moaned his name, begging for more.

His hands wrapped around the back of your thighs, and he pulled them further apart, opening you up for better access. His tongue dipped into you, licking that sensitive nerve inside, making your back arch against the wall.

"Please," you keened as your core began to spread a warm, exciting sensation, making your body shake against him. "Please, please, please,"

Your knees buckled, nearly giving out. He stood up, catching you around your waist, pressing your foreheads together. "Hey," he gasped, grinning at you.

"H-hi" you panted against him.

"Not quitting on me, are you?" He winked at you.

You laughed. "No."

"Brilliant," he smiled, pulling you into a kiss that was eagerly returned.

You don't remember exactly how, but you were picked up one moment and then lowered onto his bed the next. This was a part of his room you were seeing for the first time, but you barely gave a fuck to look around as you were too busy getting up off the bed, surprising a stripping Dick.

He eyed you questioningly until you brought your hands up to where he was in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt and replacing his. Carefully you discarded his shirt, kissing your way down his impressively chiseled chest and torso. You were surprised to see a mapping of scars and marks along his skin, but refrained from asking. The less you two knew about each other, the better. You kissed your way down, reveling in the sounds he released as you did, and the way his hand came up to cradle your head.

At last, you reached the top of his jeans, sitting comfortably on his narrow waist. You undid his belt and lowered the layer of pants and underwear until his hardness was in front of you. You tried to hold back your wide-eyed reaction, but holy... Dick's Dick was big. We'll, it was bigger than any you've ever seen. All three.

"Like what you see?" He asked above you with a knowing smile.

You realized you were staring, then you looked up at him and nodded eagerly before taking him in your mouth. You watched his brow furrow in pleasure as he gasped, hand still cradling your head. He drawled, "Oh baby, yes. Just like that. Good girl."

You moaned around him at the praise, eager for more. Licking and sucking, you thought to yourself, this was the most eager you've ever been to give someone a blow job, not sure why - I guess the right ones just have that effect.

"Baby," He moaned. "If you want me to fuck you, you should stop."

Reluctantly you pulled away, watching his face, studying his expressions. You got up slowly on wobbly legs and fell back onto the soft, cushion of the bed, backing up to give him room.

Dick tisksed, shaking his head. You wondered what that was about, but then he grabbed you by your ankle and pulled you towards himself. It barely took any effort for him to do that. Your breath hitched, more so when you two were now met torso to torso as he leaned over you, lining himself up. He grabbed one of the pillows on his bed head, lifted you by the small of your back, and placed the pillow under it. Then, he rolled on the condom. You were surprised, usually having to do both those actions yourself.

When he thrust into you, the two of you gasped in unison. His pupils were wide as he gazed down at you before drawing you against him. You clung onto him as he trusted into you again and again. "Ah, ah, Dick-"

"So tight." He bit his lip. "God, baby. You're so perfect."

"Dick, I'm - oh," you stuttered. "Please, more, please,"

He sped up his rhythm, brushing your sensitive spot with each thrust, moaning as he did. "So, fucking tight. Feels so good, baby."

"Yeah," you gazed up at him with those glassy eyes, and Dick felt like he won. He hadn't lied when he said he wanted to kiss you. We'll. He did lie. In truth, he wanted to do so much more. But having you beneath him, moaning his name, and gazing up at him like he was all that mattered made something spark within him. Something powerful. Possessive. He wanted every guy who you've ever been with to see you this way. His. For all intents and purposes, in this perfect moment, you were his.

Dick pressed his hand to your lower belly, feeling himself slide in and out of you. The action resulted in a sweet pressure inside you, building up and making you write under him.

God, did he know what he was doing. It was refreshing. Truly.

Your nails scratched down his back to grasp as his hips needing him closer, as close as possible. Your orgasm hit like a wave, making you cry out as your whole body shuddered.

Your shaking hands cradled his face. He shuddered and leaned into your touch, making each eager thrust count.

"Come for me," you wispered, eyes pleading. "I wanna see you come."

Oh god, yes. He grunted, pressing against you. He would do anything, everything. All you had to do was ask in that breathy, cute voice. Please.

As if obeying an order, his orgasm shot through his entire body. Your arms snaked around him, pulling him down to you for a kiss, and he lowered himself to indulge you.

You were so sweet, so vulnerable in his arms. So different from the composed, confident girl he'd remembered. He held you as close as he possibly could, nearly crushing you. But you didn't mind. Welcoming his warm embrace.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

You had class early the next day, a weekend course that was unfortunately mandatory. So you dressed quickly, hoping not to wake him. Thoggh, you realized you failed when you heard stirring from the bed just as you picked up your discarded shoes. You turned to see him blinking away sleep. He looked cute with his hair still messy, bare torso and arms covered by a messily draped bed sheet.

And you enjoyed waking up in his embrace too. His arm resting as a pillow under your head as you slept on your side, as his other arm was draped around your waist.

"Going somewhere?" His voice was a low rasp, rough with sleep.

You managed a small, apologetic smile. "I’ve got a nine a.m. lecture every Saturday."

Dick’s gaze narrowed slightly, the hint of a frown on his lips. "It’s six."

"I know," you murmured, glancing down at your clothes—a crumpled, half-worn version of last night’s outfit. "But I’ve got to go home first. I can’t exactly show up like this."

He pushed himself up, revealing the full view of him in the early light, looking both effortless and undeniably inviting. "I’ll drive you."

"You don’t have to," you said, shaking your head quickly. "I already called an Uber-"

"Cancel it."

"It’s...already here," you replied, lifting your phone. "ETA one minute."

A flicker of something - was that disappointment? - crossed his blue eyes, but he only shrugged. "Alright."

The silence that followed felt heavy, pressing against you as you avoided his gaze. "Thank you for yesterday," you said finally, your voice quieter. "It was... fun."

His lips twisted into a teasing smirk. "You know, you could’ve woken me up for another round."

You let out a soft, half-sarcastic laugh. "You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to ruin that."

He snorted, leaning back, the look in his eyes lingering as he watched you slip on your shoes.

"See you around," you murmured, already halfway out of the bedroom, the words feeling less like a promise and more like a polite exit.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Twice in one week. You hesitated the moment you stepped into the bar with your fellow interns, their laughter and voices fading as they moved toward a round table further in.

You knew better than this. You were an adult, and when you’d agreed to that night with him, you both understood it was just that - one night. But try as you might, logic hadn’t stopped your body from betraying you. Your breath hitched, and an ache tightened in your chest as your gaze fell on a too-familiar face.

There he was, leaning casually against the wall, lips pressed to someone else’s in a way that was both effortless and intimate. His hands traced her back with the same warmth you’d felt only nights ago.

And suddenly, that story he told you about the pub became just that, a story. Just like any other man had told you to get in your pants. A means to an end. You mentally admonished yourself, disbelief at falling for yet another one.

You swallowed hard, feeling the sting of something you couldn't quite name. You’d told yourself it didn’t mean anything. But here, watching him so easily entwined with someone else, you couldn't help but feel discarded. Hurt.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

[leighsartworks216]

Red String of Fate

Sylus x gn!Reader

Spent like an hour talking to my roommate in the middle of posting this. Not proofread (even tho I really should) Takes place in the Raven universe

Warnings: red string of fate, birthday, past trauma, past character death, fluff, kissing, crying, presents

Word Count: 3,082

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“You ask-”

“No, you-”

You snap your fingers. The loud click shuts up the twins in an instant and draws them from the shadows of the doorway into the room. They look decidedly anxious, midway between shoving each other forward. You raise a brow at them.

They look at each other. With a shared nod, they stand side by side in front of you. “When’s your birthday?” they both ask at once.

… Really? All that fuss just to ask when you were born? You give them an unimpressed stare. Interrupting your alone time was really worth this?

“It’s just that we-”

“Were wondering since Boss’s birthday is in April-”

“And if yours is before-”

“Or after-”

“His then we can start preparing right now!”

You tap your finger against the armrest. Your persistent silence unnerves them, even after you’ve been here for almost a year at this point. It’s nice, especially now that they’ve had time to adjust to it. It took a lot of confidence to ask you such a stupid question, after all. Too bad you don’t have any interest in answering.

You turn back to your book, signaling the end of the conversation. The twins look at each other, shrug, and leave. Once they’re safely past the open doorway and down the hall, you set your book down.

A birthday growing up sounded like some magical, wondrous event. Candy, games, cake, presents. How many nights had you dreamed of them? How many times had you seen a group of kids in cone hats in the park, parents trying to round them all up so they could blow out candles and dig into the carefully decorated cakes, with cursive writing on top wishing the special one a happy birthday?

The best you managed to scrounge up was when you were maybe 10 years old, give or take a few years. A new soup kitchen opened up. You lined up on the block with the other homeless, starving people of the city. The promise of hot food was always worth the pitying glances and disgusted glares.

When it was your turn in line, after waiting all morning until your legs were just about ready to give out, the person working there had dug through a crinkled brown paper bag to give you a squished brownie wrapped in cling film. That night, an older man you’d known well, had you blow out his lighter to make a wish. You’d split the brownie with him.

When he died less than a week later, something in you died with him. You hadn’t had a brownie since, or much else in the way of sweets, for that matter. As soon as the Devil picked you up into his business, they were off the table completely. The only real thing that improved was how frequent your meals were, without the anxiety of never eating again. But not the quantity; you had to stay thin for the stage.

You don’t even remember what day that soup kitchen opened. Well, there’s no reason to look into it now. Enough bad memories have been dredged up today.

Your phone buzzes with a message.

The twins are asking me when your birthday is. I assume they already tried asking you?

They left just a few minutes ago.

There’s no response for a minute, as if he knows he’s stepping on a thin line between things you do talk about and things you’ll never talk about.

Do you want to celebrate it?

You have to take a moment to think, to consider what he’s offering here.

You have no idea when your birthday is, and he probably gleaned as much. That’s not what he’s asking, though. If you could stare at a calendar, at every single day of the year all perfectly laid out, when would you pick to celebrate your life? It wouldn’t be a celebration of your birth, but it could be so much more. You’re not even sure what adults do for their birthdays, so separated from the concept that you stopped paying attention entirely. But you could choose to do anything - everything.

Your thumb hovers uncertainly over the digital keyboard, before finally typing out a message.

I think I would.

Just say when, sweetheart.

-

The second the twins are told your “birthday” is just a month away, on the day you agreed to work alongside Sylus, it’s all they seem to care about. Huddling together to excitedly whisper about it during missions, probing questions into what you like (mostly to Sylus, but sometimes they get so excited they ask you before realizing you won’t answer), hiding packages delivered to the mansion, and so on.

Sylus is much better about containing his excitement, if he is excited at all to celebrate your special day. He asks first if there’s anything special you’d like to do - dinner, shopping, traveling - you name it and he’s on it. When you admit that you have no idea what people do on their birthdays, he’s all too happy to list out things, without judgement. If he’s honest, he doesn’t do much to celebrate his own birthday either.

You think about the parties you watched as a kid. Piece by piece, you break it down into things you think you’d like.

First and foremost, you wouldn’t mind a cake or some other dessert. Sylus is right on it, suggesting that you both visit a cake shop to figure out what your preferences are before the twins go overboard with a flavor you don’t like. The owners think you’re planning for your wedding. Neither of you correct them.

Second, the games. Whether it’s Kitty Cards or Texas Hold ‘Em, you think it would be fun to play a game or two with Sylus and the twins. Gambling may or may not be involved.

Third, you remember one kid in your youth who was all dressed up in a suit by his parents, all to visit some cheap arcade. You would like to dress up. Sylus chuckles at this one, not because he thinks it’s silly, but because he’s always prepared to have a custom wardrobe built for you. He promises to have a tailor discuss your ideas with you.

As far as birthdays go, it’s nothing crazy outlandish like some of the things Sylus told you people do. At the end of the day, all you really want is to dress up, go to dinner with him (alone), come back to play games with the twins, and have cake. You don’t want the world in the palm of your hands, because you don’t need it. You’ve never wanted it.

Once your desires are laid out, Luke and Kieran calm down a bit. They’re no longer trying to plan this whole big bash, but scheming up ways to win the games against you and Boss, the notorious cheaters that they are. (They’ll never win, but they’re not going down without a fight.)

Mephisto spends the entire time leading up to the day gathering trinkets and withholding them from you. Usually, if he sees something shiny, he brings it straight to you for wordless praise and chin scratches. You know right away what he’s up to. You pretend not to notice for his sake.

Your outfit is ready in less than a week, the cake is baked with all the flavors you enjoyed at the shop, and you couldn’t be happier.

Sylus can’t tear his eyes off of you when you finally reveal your custom attire. Throughout the night, he can’t stop telling you how amazing you look, encouraging you to have more outfits made for future events. The restaurant he chose has a balcony that you two sit on, staring out over a stretch of beach. The ocean breeze carries the bite of salt, refreshing you for the rest of the night ahead.

You tell Luke and Kieran you’ll be home before midnight, but you drag Sylus out to the beach and get sidetracked. He can’t stop smiling as he holds your shoes and watches you run out into the shallow waves. The moon shines on the soft waves behind you, bathing you in an ethereal glow. By the time you do get back to the mansion, your hair is windswept and you have sand everywhere, but you don’t mind at all.

The games are so fun. Luke says you’re cheating by sitting in Sylus’s lap during Kitty Cards, but you gesture for him to sit on Kieran’s lap while he plays. Sylus doesn’t assist you in the game at all; Kieran points out moves and subtly switches the cards in Luke’s hand for the ones hidden up his sleeve. They don’t win a single game.

The cake is beautiful, decorated to perfection and topped with a few candles. You stare at the cursive on top for a moment. When they sing you the song (even Sylus), he notices the distance in your eyes. He kisses the top of your head when the song is over to snap you out of it. You don’t actually make a wish when you blow out the little, flickering flames. There’s nothing you want, and lingering too long trying to figure a wish out only draws the memories of the old man closer to the forefront of your mind.

You cut the first slice. Sylus cuts the rest. He’s not big on sweet things, but he finishes his thin slice anyway. You savor every bite. It’s paradise in your mouth. He has to cut off the twins from having any more, lest they make themselves sick.

Each of them has a present for you. Well, Mephisto has several. He flies to and fro for a while, bringing you little trinkets and shiny things that all pile up on the table. You take the time to look at and admire each one, even sorting them into different groups based on what they are. You wind up with a humorous amount of bottle caps.

Luke gets you a new pair of handguns. Kieran gets you a harness with holsters to hold them in on missions. Sylus gives you a photo album, full of photos from the year you’ve spent together. You sit pressed into his side on the couch and flip through it, page by page. You can see yourself relaxing with each picture. Just a few days after you start working with Sylus, you offer the camera a mischievous smile that doesn’t reflect in your eyes. In the last photo, from a few days ago, you look like a different person; you smile without fear, your guard is let down. The person you were at the gala a year ago has finally found someone to trust.

As the night comes to a close, the twins wish you happy birthday once more before heading off to bed. The mess is left for someone else to deal with. Your presents sit on the table and wait to be put away as Sylus leads you up to what’s become your shared bedroom.

You’re positively glowing. It’s all Sylus can think as you both lay perpendicular over the blankets. Your head rests on his stomach, his fingers trail slowly through your hair, and in just a few hours, the sun will be rising. Yet here you are, too happy to sleep just yet. You want to bask in this feeling a little longer.

You understand now why Luke and Kieran were so enthusiastic, why all those kids from your childhood couldn’t bear the thought of waiting another year for their next birthday, why adults continue to celebrate. You can’t remember the last time you felt a joy like this. It feels all bubbly in your chest, almost surreal, as memories of things that happened just hours ago draw out dopey smiles and lingering giggles. Sylus’s eyes are impossibly soft as he takes you in.

You’re still in the outfit you wore to dinner. He’s still in his suit, sans his jacket. Two pairs of shoes are kicked off carelessly beside the bed. Nothing else matters except right here, right now, soaking in the final vestiges of the night.

He brushes his thumb along your cheek, drawing your eyes to look up at him, that sweet grin still dancing on your face. His fingertips trail featherlight along your jaw, tracing your chin and brushing at your lips. You reach up to hold his hand in place as you kiss his fingers, eyes closing in bliss as you leave pecks down each one, only to leave a lingering kiss to his palm. You look back up at him. He smiles.

“I have one last gift for you,” he says quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter every window and mirror throughout the entire mansion.

You tilt your head, curiosity drawing your brows together in a silent question. Your smile stays the same. He shifts, helping you sit up so you’re side by side, just facing opposite directions. You watch as his Evol reaches out to the nightstand drawer, pulling out a box and placing it in his awaiting hand. He offers it to you with purpose.

It’s simple, but beautiful nonetheless. Carefully carved wood, rich in color, with a domed lid and rounded edges. It’s about the length of your palm, and no wider than three fingers. A red silk ribbon in a bow ties it together, preventing the hinged lid from being opened. You glance back up at him. He nods toward it.

The silk slips softly through your fingers as you tug on one end of the bow. The knot falls apart, and the ribbon slides onto your lap. You lift the lid and-

You look up at Sylus, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. He smiles broadly at your reaction. You look back at the present, emotion bubbling up in your chest once more. It feels even more powerful than earlier. Your eyes burn, but you fight back the tears.

Two rings perch side by side within the velvet-lined box. Red jewels decorate golden bands, shimmering in the dim lighting of his bedroom. A matching set. This is far more than just a pair of earrings or cufflinks, this is…

The first tear falls. You hold the box to your chest as you lean toward Sylus. He meets you halfway, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His broad chest shields you from the rest of the world, hiding the emotions you only allow him to see. Which is wonderful, because you feel so silly, crying over a present like this. He’s given you so much in your time together. Anything you could ever dream of and more - always more. Always trying to make sure you’re happy and comfortable. This is like him giving you the world. You can’t ask for anything greater than that.

“Read the engraving,” he whispers, gently pulling the box from your chest. He holds it while your shaky fingers, usually so steady and sure, pull the smaller ring from the cushion. It takes a minute to see, having to wipe your eyes several times to get rid of the steady flow of tears.

You are my new destiny.

You cover your mouth with your free hand, muffling the sounds that try to escape. It’s usually so easy to be quiet, even under the worst torture. It seems impossible to shut up now.

Sylus pulls your hand away from your mouth, abandoning the box on the bed next to you, and cupping your cheek to wipe away the tears. He kisses your forehead. “May I put it on you?”

You nod immediately. He takes the ring from your trembling fingers and holds your left hand. You watch, entranced, as he slips it onto your pinky. It fits perfectly. The red jewel glimmers, mirror Sylus’s eyes when you look up at him. He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss over the ring.

You giggle, a soft and wet sound. You can feel his smile against your fingers. You’ve never felt so light before.

You turn to the box, using your free hand to carefully take out the larger ring. The band is a bit wider than yours, but the design holding the jewel in place is almost identical. You don’t need to ask or even gesture for him to give you his left hand; he offers it right away, still holding your left hand as he does. You slip the golden ring onto his pinky. Overcome with rapturous emotion, you hold his hand in both of yours and bring it to your lips, kissing the ring just as he had as a quiet, happy sob breeches your lips.

He wraps his arm around you, drawing you to rest against him, your joined hands resting over his erratic heart. His head is ducked down to rest against yours, kisses pressing over the crown of your head. His heart aches in the best way to be granted the opportunity to see you like this.

Your fingers play affectionately with his, thumbing over his ring and massaging his palm. When he returns the favor, brushing over your ring or gathering both of your hands in his just to hold them, you let out airy little laughs that burrow their way into his heart, where they will stay for the rest of time.

You use your right hand to finally wipe the last of your tears away, unwilling to let go of the bond that ties you together. You pull back just enough to look up at his face with a big, beaming grin. He leans his forehead against yours, your noses brushing against each other.

“I love you,” you whisper. It comes out crackly and hoarse, but it sounds like music to his ears.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back. “In every lifetime, I will find you. For the rest of eternity. Always.”

You tilt your chin up to capture his lips. It starts slow, a mere vessel for the vow he made, a seal that forces this change in fate he is creating. It doesn’t take long for it to grow hungry and desperate for each other. Not long at all until he’s cradling your neck, cold metal pressing against your skin, as he lowers you back into the bed, leaning his body over yours and supporting himself so all his weight isn’t crushing you.

“Happy birthday,” he breathes into your mouth, “my beloved.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[conundrumoftime]

no ACTUALLY ship and let ship. no, really. including Haladriel including Celeborn including everyone.

Checking on the Tumblr Haladriel tag this morning like the Troy-arriving-with-pizza gif...

Anyway: I left the following comment on someone's blog about this, and while I don't have any particular wish to fight with that person or reblog them in a way that might encourage anyone else to get into that, I do want to copy my comment here because 'ship and let ship' is something I do feel very, very strongly about:

I'm a Haladriel shipper who's been in this fandom since 2022 (you can see my 20+ Haladriel fics here if you want evidence of that: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eye_of_a_cat/works) and in Tolkien fandom on and off for many years before. I’m one of the shippers who was on the receiving end of a massive anti hate campaign over Haladriel during 2023-4, including repeated vicious suicide-baiting anon hate comments. I’m also a multishipper who talks about Celeborn too and writes fic about him as well. Can I please ask that you consider the old fandom adage of ‘ship and let ship’ on this one? I don’t care whether you like this fictional elf [ETA: Celeborn] or not - we all have different tastes - but when you start going after the shippers as people, calling us “probably antis masquerading as shippers”, telling us to “be honest” that we just hate Sauron x Galadriel (seriously, do you think I and fellow multishippers are writing all these Haladriel fics as some kind of elaborate undercover act?), setting yourself up as some judge of who counts as a Haladriel and who doesn’t - this is just unpleasant for everybody and makes the fandom a toxic, bitter space.  People have different tastes. People approach shipping in different ways. Fandom is a big wide world.  What I always ask people who hate Haladriel to do is mute the tag and live and let live when it comes to other people’s preferences, and don’t go after *people* because you don’t like their ship. Can you please consider doing the same for Celeborn?

I don't want endless discourse about this. I hate ship wars. I have a ton of messy unpleasant stuff happening in my real life right now and fandom - writing, fun, creativity - is such a welcome escape valve for me. I don't care who likes which elf or which ship, but ffs can we please leave each other in peace about it?

I am always happy to talk about any of my ships or the characters I like in more detail - at the drop of a hat in fact! - but for obvious reasons, I don't do this in a ship war context where I feel like someone's expecting me to 'prove' myself or justify why I'm allowed to like something. Because the point is that it doesn't matter why someone else likes something or whether or not you get its appeal - what matters is the ability to get along with each other anyway.

Some of my best fandom friends are people who don't like many of the things I like, and vice versa. One of my dearest fandom friends I've known for over 15 years has some ships that make me recoil in ARGH NO horror. And she doesn't like everything I'm into either! And we still get along fine, as people, because we know it's ships. It's fiction. It's not a referendum on us as people.

I don't care if people like Celeborn or not - he is a made-up elf, he is not real. I don't care if people like Haladriel or not - non-book-canon ships and EtL ships aren't for everyone. But the fans who like these things are real people who should be allowed to do our thing in peace.

[icarusredwings]

A review of Puppys pen By Panties on boys

Ive done a previous reviews on

Nasty Dog and Domesticated Wolverine and was heavily impressed so here we go.

Firstly I would like to mention that good gravy. 8 THOUSAND words!?? For a one shot? Holy hell. Props.

"Wade squints in the dark, against the yellow halo that hugs his ankle, as he steps through it." I dont know what this part means but I want to assume it means the Tva door thing for when hes traveling and hes just now stepping into a new dimention.

"Are you there god?" No. Not at all.

Ooohh fangy wolvie!

"What time is your dick appointment sir?"

I love the little note of. "That would be dyscalculia" like uhm actually you little shit- Numbers is dyscalculia and you're aboutta get your ass smashed so its not like that matters

"Sorry daddy" As if you didn't just meet this man 2 seconds ago. But same-

"You're late. Thats rude"

Wade: *dies of horny*

Awww! When it says he was vibrating on the floor like that it makes me think of a really excited puppy with his tail going crazy.

Oh my god. We got a collar. Repeat we got a NICE collar at that.

I like how you describe things but in my brain I can physically see him tripping and struggling to get up so quickly.

I didnt read the tags (why would I, I trust this author not to do anything too uncomfy) but if he dosn't get a tail plug im gonna be a bit disappointed.

Puppy play has to be one of wades absolute favorite things by the way. Do you KNOW how many military brats are pups??? Do you see is ex wife over here?? She definitely was making this man bark.

GUYS! WE GOT COMFORT SMUT

“I don’t want to kill the mood.” Wade replies. “I’m not as pretty as you.” Shut the fuck up right now.

"slowly, so slowly, so Wade can stop him if he has to. “I know who you are, idiot. And what you look like.” AYO!? Does this imply that in this universe Logan gets to be dommy toppy to all his lovers and wade is a usual playmate?

Oh my gooooddd

"horrifying thought, I feel like I belong here.

He should probably run." AAKDNSIDJS And literally as a man who has felt like he never belonged anywhere !?? And he ussually does end up running from people who are kind to him? Jesus christ guys.

Chat are you seeing this shit?

Not only does he know him already, hes kind to him, respectful, and LITERALLY says "my clients dont get to touch me" and then INSTANTLY kisses him and tells him BY NAME that he can touch him.

Im going to explode if we find out that theyre actually together in this universe.

“Realized where you are, huh? Who you’re with, huh, baby?” youre gonna kill me.

"Scared sweetheart?" im dead.

HAS HE HAD HIS RABIES SHOTS? Im deceased.

No because wade starting to ramble absolute nonsense while waiting for Logan to stab him in the guts is so accurate. Bro is like "treat me like a half priced vaccume and let me suck it up!"

And logans just sitting here like ???

TEHEEHEHE the flirting is insane

Oh nooo.. i know those indications. The instant familiarity, the testing, the teasing. It's as if Logan had lost his deadpool. Lost his favorite chew toy and now that he got it back he misses him so much. Between knowing exactly what he likes, knowing precisely where to kiss, telling him he knows him, telling him about his pretty eyes, talking to him as if he knows him on a deep personal level... im gonna cry.

Im sitting here talking about how encouraging Logan is to Wade but wade is laying here with multiple injuries telling Logan to keep going. Telling him to bite him. Telling him that its okay to hurt him because hes into it. Telling Logan that hes allowed to LET GO. To go absolutly nuts.

Nooo because its so sad and cute when he gets up and just.. leaves him there. The way I KNOW wades brain instantly went to "oh no he dosn't like me anymore. I messed up" as hes naked as hell, bleeding everywhere as he sits there.. alone. Only to immediately be told theyre going somewhere else.

"Stop humping me" is top tier comment.

HOLY SHIT HE TOOK HIM HOME.

Like.. HOME home. 🥹

Aww what a good boy. Sitting there like that. "Good mutts get rewards" im seriously going to start deteriorating.

GUYS 😭

Wade: I get wolvie dick so this is heaven

Logan: say something nice about yourself

Wade: Chat im in hell actually. Satan himself was tricking me.

"Be a good boy. Don’t you want to?” and he just CANT say it oh my lanta

"He hears them before he registers that he’s the one saying them, and then his lips drop open wider. Who the fuck just said that?" Its your head room mates <3 dont worry they just want you to be a good boy for mr. Wolvie here.

Oh man the biting. These are love bites. These are not agressive biting this is territorial. This is claiming. This is... god its BEAUTIFUL is what this is.

The way he encourages him. The way Logan tells him that he wishes he could mark him. The way Wade keeps going limp knowing damn well if he squirms then logans prey drive will absolutly destroy him.

"He fucks Wade’s own blood into him as lube." Ofc. Ofc.

Hes litterly fucking him so hard that hes crying and wade is having the best day of his life.

Daddy kink logan>>>

"They sit there for a few more moments before Logan asks, voice rough, tired, spent, but amused, “You dead?”

“Yeah.” Wade answers.

“Shit.” Logan huffs a laugh."

Me fr. My wife asks if im dead sometimes and ill tell her yeah and she'll be like "damn. R.i.p."

AAahh and he brings him home!? Its decided. He brought him home to Al and poor Al suffered the consequences for ever.

This entire fic is just "Wade goes shopping for the wolverine with the biggest dick and heart" and found him.

Im not kidding this was SOOO fucking sweet. Would love to read what happens next and perhaps if wade DOES try to get away from him, a bit of primal play and physically hunting down your boyfriend never hurt anyone.

Im genuinely very happy after reading this, my heart is full my chest is warm, My head is full of things it wasn't about 20 minutes ago. And now if you don't mind Im gonna go take a nap.

Solid 10/10. Thank you Kensy.

Anyway @bougiebutchbinch will love this.

Puppy’s Pen

[Deadpool’s voiceover]: You’d think that finding a new Anchor Being would be easy.

I mean, big dog should be effectively immortal, no…? And yet one is dead, one is Henry Cavill—sadly uninterested—and one’s shorter than Woody Allen… on second consideration, I might go back for him, actually. He was cute. Besides, he held quite the fucking candle to the Logan variant that was crucified on a giant, unforgiving X, which was erected on a mountain of human fucking skulls, so. You know. There’s that thing that I witnessed today.

Fact is, it’s been hard.

This whole multiverse idea, it’s honestly just really confusing. The author doesn’t get it, I don’t get it… Do you get it? If you do, hold onto your fucking socks, because I’m about to shatter your entire understanding. Open your mind, okay? This fic is not for prudes, mind the tags.

[ashanimus]

Blood Magic and Galdorstone Hearts on the Boiling Isles

I'm gonna preface that this is pure, fanficy speculation that will probably not see any return in the show but it makes me curious.

We know that wild magic on the Boiling Isles has corpse magic everywhere. We see these things for sale at the Night Market. We also have the Grimwalker recipe--which calls mostly for body parts of things...Let's talk a little bit about the potential ideology that formed the Isles' corpse/blood magic!

We see during the "savage ages" Belos has a bunch of body parts on his table that have little price tags on them.

We also see the one Portal diagrams show some of the components, which appear to include uh. A brain and a pair of kidneys?

Luz and Eda's ratchet-ass door is played for laughs but even that thing shows that its strung together with organic bits, and of course in both cases the door is obviously partially composed of bits, powered by Titan Blood.

But here's the thing that gets me excited as a possibility. Eda and Hunter helpfully inform us that Titan Blood is known as the most powerful source of raw magic on the Isles. Hunter even says that ancient witches used to mine it consistently. We've had some cool hints mostly through Eda and the Clawthornes that most of the pre-Belos ideology, the trad stuff, had a lot to do with a respectful, relationship to the land they live on, the Titan. It doesn't really give the vibes of like...Christian style worship. The Titan isn't a god, he's the land they all came from. This is kind of its own essay about colonialism in this show and how Belos has affected it, but the point is it sort of suggests a magical and philosophy of living based on respect for the land, and your place as PART of it, not its master.

ALL OF THAT TO SAY. A big part of how magical ideology and runes may have developed and evolved probably assigned ingredients alchemical correspondences. Runes are basically simple codes that can be built up to immense complexities. For example, lets look at Phillip's teleportation rune.

See the fire glyph is central to the spell. This may suggest that fire, in glyph language represents "active/on/go/initiate". If that is true, then the alchemical correspondence for Titan Blood--or blood as ANY component, is probably fire, as its the "power source" common denominator of several kinds of spell.

Titan Blood as a common denominator for powerful magic would suggest that as witches grew in their magical innovation before Belos, blood magic was probably common and a logical extension. Belos, who has done a great job of eradicating and muddling old ways of all sorts, has probably made it illegal by lumping it in with wild magic. Or at least, given how gross potions are shown to be, there may be seriously muddy legal shit going on there.

But not all blood would be equal probably. Titan blood is obviously the best. You'd think witch/demon blood would be next but...what about blood pushed through a heart synthesized from a Galdorstone, a known POWERFUL magical amplifier?

It's hard to read but one of those books reads "Grimwalker Extinction" and damn guys, I wonder if this could have been a factor in why they're all gone now. I think Grimwalkers probably pre-dated Phillip, but I wouldn't be surprised at all if he helped lead the charge to destroy then all. I expect his motivations would have been to just keep the technology entirely proprietary to himself, but still!

And this final bit is a bit of a stretch but as far as Galdorstone hearts go...

We're told that you have to hold a Galdorstone to power up your magic and it doesn't work on illusions. It's not like Willow needs a power up, but if she had to move a mountain or a reanimated Titan...

Hold his hand and move mountains girl O w O

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[camellia-thea]

okay. just rambling here, but, i think armand took more than just the end of the interview away from daniel.

we got that little moment about that night, saying 'you asked me to' to louis. 'you asked me to take this from you, you could not live with it,' leading into, 'i look after you when you cannot look after yourself, i make those choices for you.'

we know that during the chase and devil's minion era, daniel was an addict, who was, by his own admission, slowly killing himself. he was also addicted to blood.

it's really not too far to make the jump, if devil's minion occurred, that armand made the choice to step in, in his own mind, for daniel's best interests. i know this isn't a unique jump to make, but; again with armand's "i look after him when he cannot look after himself" continual reiteration, i think it's a fair assumption.

he can also replace and blur memories, which makes the discussion of alice and paris -- why the dessert from that night? -- and how immediate and sincere his answer of "she wanted to say yes, but she didn't trust you. you hadn't given her a reason to." this could be the night he took them away, replaced himself with alice, planted something similar for her to start the relationship, then step back and watch it fall. and i think the thing that stands out there is just how tender he is while saying it. there's an undercurrent of something else entirely underneath, it isn't a dig at daniel in the moment, despite the pushing earlier in the scene.

and then in s1, when louis say to daniel, "i'd give it to you now." and the cut to armand, still in disguise, and his micro-expression of horror, the way he stiffens and looks away... and the little moment of what i read as conflict when daniel says no. his jump to "may i be excused?" i can't tell in the moment, if he's horrified about the offer itself, the fact that it is louis offering to turn daniel rather than himself, or the fact that daniel denies it. because i don't think armand could actually let daniel die if this was the case.

the disguise itself-- why pretend to be rashid? i think part of it is to try and hide behind a human persona to keep those memories at bay; especially given the little moments of flashback that got triggered by little mannerisms. i can't decide whether they're intentional pushes or not, whether armand wanted/wants daniel to remember on his own, or wants to keep it under wraps. i think, even if he believes he doesn't want it to come forward, he truly does deep down.

and once he's revealed himself as armand, the way he gazes at daniel, his beautiful boy. the continued "our boy", from both he and louis, the "he's still in there, somewhere..."

and i think "our boy" is also really interesting, because why would daniel be armand's boy, based solely on the moments that louis initially remembered? armand didn't really have any emotional connection to daniel that night, sure, he saved him, but that doesn't really mean anything; he saved daniel for louis, not for daniel's sake.

and, jumping back "our boy,[...] he's still in there somewhere"... there's implication that louis might know about it? again, i don't think this is related to the original interview, or at least, limited to it? i don't have anything concrete here, just vibes, but again, why is armand's boy still in there somewhere?

and sure, some of these are reaches and i don't think i'm necessarily right, but god it would be deliciously awful if i was.

[ivyithink]

so i’ve finished “mo du”

so, i’ve read “mo du” and it finished me

fei du’s mug! (a gift from luo wenzhou, obviously)

[charlunday]

Hello! For your post about sending in thg characters we’ve never seen you draw before… have you ever drawn haymitch? 👀 (no pressure though!)

Look at meant for these to be just quick doodles but……. I’ve never exactly been good at that…

I feel like no one talks about Haymitch’s Victory Tour. It was probably such a strange, tense experience. Like he just won the Quarter Quell and that's a big deal, but the Capitol also doesn't want to parade him around like they might someone like Finnick. So his pose is defeated, his clothes are torn- excuse me- distressed, all his accessories have buckles (implying he's trapped). I just think this was probably a very strange, very bad time for him.

[satorisoup]

people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T

tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3

[gjsxj0]

mindless rambling in tags don't mind me

[sieglinde-freud]

IM PULLING MY HAIR OUT OF MY SCALP

[againwiththeturtles]

the thing about bakoda. is that even if they didn't get rid of bato (the fact that they DID is proof of what i'm about to say) they would not have made it gay because that episode/tension that would ensue is actually too good. like it's Too thematic. these new showrunners would not... they would not be able to juggle katara's "why are you trying to replace My Mom bato?!" and sokka's "so what does that mean for my concept of masculinity then?!" in a way that brings the story to a new place while honoring the original. it would be awesome if they could. but. alas.

[desceros]

I feel like Donnie would be mush for his teeny, itty bitty little baby girl.

someone has been peeking in my google drive again i see....

yeah i think he (rise donnie specifically since that's the papatello i'm working on) would be one of those dads who has a big talk about how he's so strict, about the intense regiment he has his kid on to maximize their development, and he's always the most annoying piece of shit at the PTA meeting. flex brag flex brag

but then his little toddler comes up to him on wobbly legs and puts her hands on his calf, tapping at him for his attention and looks up at him with paint all over her face from where she got into the art supplies at the back of the classroom and made a huge ass mess, and he just melts at her crooked little grin (bc dad is the favorite) and is completely incapable of chastising her in any shape or form

that changes when she grows up and starts to act so much like him that he HAS to be firmer with her. the first time he has to put her in time out they both ugly cry a lot

[tesspool]

floyd was only in that damn bottle for 2 months out of the 20+ years he was gone. john dory even said he came back and checked for branch. i really don’t get why floyd is seen as ‘the best brother’ when all he did was apologise before he left, break his promise of coming back, get put in the talent suck machine and not instantly treat branch like a child

probably because hes the softest one of the bunch and hes emo so people automatically just assume hes uwu nice and stuff probably also why they twinkify him good point though at least jd actually checked, i forgot about that because i forget tiny details in most media HELP.

anddd if i had to assume, with floyd being so kind to branch out of all of them and actually seeming to care i can see why people think that, not saying the other brothers dont care, obviously they did, he just actually told branch straight up and apologized. i wouldnt consider floyd to be the best though, honestly i dont know if i think any of them would be the best? none of them ever came back, theyre all pretty equal to me imo.

[shalom-iamcominghome]

My thoughts on jewish politics are nuanced and convoluted in many ways, but if somebody comes at me with the idea of categorizing my thoughts as being in line with the "good jews" or the "bad jews," you've just got to assume I'm not One Of The Good Ones.