#but my thoughts were not fucking thinking yesterday

[bktempted]

Brain Stuff. You’re hunched over your desk, the glow of your laptop screen casting shadows across your cluttered apartment. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to type the next paragraph of your dissertation — something about neural plasticity in machine learning models. It’s brilliant stuff, the kind of work that’s gotten you whispers of “genius” from your PhD advisors. You’re in the zone, your brain firing on all cylinders, when the front door clicks open.

“Hey, babe,” comes his voice, low and casual, like he doesn’t know what it does to you. Your boyfriend steps inside, shedding his jacket. He’s got that easy grin, the one that makes your stomach tighten. You glance up, meaning to say something sharp and witty, but he’s already peeling off his shirt, revealing the lean muscle underneath. Your mouth goes dry. The words you were about to type — something about synaptic pruning — slip away like sand through your fingers.

“Missed you today,” he says, crossing the room. He’s close now, close enough that you can smell the faint spice of his cologne. Your pulse kicks up, and you try to focus on the screen. You’re a goddamn scholar, you can handle this. But then he leans over your shoulder, his breath brushing your ear, and says, “What’s my smart girl working on?”

Your brain stutters. “Uh… it’s, um…” You squint at the screen, but the words lose their meaning. Neural what? Plasticity? Fuck, you know this. You wrote fifteen pages on it yesterday. His hand slides onto your shoulder, thumb brushing your neck, and your IQ takes a nosedive. “It’s… brain stuff,” you manage, voice small. You hate how stupid you sound, how you can feel your own brilliance leaking out of you as he closes the distance.

He chuckles, soft and loving, and that sound alone makes your thighs clench. “Brain stuff, huh? Tell me more.” His fingers dip lower, tracing the edge of your tank top, and you try — God, you try — to string a sentence together. “It’s about… how brains… change?” Your voice lilts up like a question, and you want to scream. You’re not some ditzy undergrad; you’re a fucking PhD candidate. But his hands are on your chest now, cupping you through your shirt, and your thoughts scatter like dropped marbles.

“C’mon, babe,” he teases, turning your chair to face him. “You’re usually so quick.” He’s smirking, and you hate how much you love it. You open your mouth to snap back, to prove you’ve still got it, but then he’s kissing you — hard, messy, all tongue and heat — and your mind goes blank. Not fuzzy, not slow, just empty. You kiss him back, hands fumbling to his waist, and all you can think is cock. One word, looping like a broken record.

He pulls you up, backing you toward the couch, and you trip over your own feet. Normally you’d curse yourself for being clumsy, but right now you just giggle — high pitched, brainless. “You’re so hot,” you blurt, and it’s the most coherent thing you’ve said in minutes. He grins, shoving his jeans down, and when you see him— hard, thick, right there — your knees buckle. You drop to the cushions, staring up at him, mouth slack. You should be analyzing data right now, not drooling like some horny idiot.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mutters, climbing over you. His hands yank your shorts off. You’re already so wet. You try to focus, one last chance to claw back a shred of intellect. “Wait, I — I need to finish—” you start, but then he’s pushing inside you, slow and deliberate, and the rest of the sentence evaporates. Your head lolls back, a moan spilling out instead. You feel him stretch you, fill you, and your brain shuts down completely. “Oh… oh God,” you whimper, legs wrapping around him on instinct.

He starts moving, thrusting deep, and you’re gone. No more dissertation, no more research — just his cock, slamming into you, turning you into a panting, writhing mess. “Tell me something smart,” he pants against your neck, mocking you now, and you want to, you need to, to prove you’re not this dumb slut he’s turning you into. “Th-the brain… it… f-fuck, it d—” You can’t finish. Every thrust scrambles your thoughts more, until you’re babbling nonsense, hips bucking to meet him.

You’re frustrated, somewhere deep down, because you know this isn’t you. You’ve presented at conferences, dismantled arguments from tenured professors, but right now you can’t even remember your own name. “Please,” you gasp, not sure what you’re begging for — him to stop, or keep going, or something else entirely. He grabs your hips, angles himself deeper, and you stop caring. “Sho… haaard…” you slur, drooling over the syllables, “sho… deeeep…”

He laughs, a low rumble. “That’s my girl. Just let go.” And you do, you can’t hold on anymore. He fucks you harder, faster, and you’re nothing but heat and need, whimpering every time he bottoms out. Your nails dig into his back, and you’re close — so close — then he groans, loud and guttural, and you feel his hot cum pour into every crevice. You climax alongside each other.

It’s instant. The second his cum hits you, it’s like a switch flips. Your vision clears, your breathing steadies, and your brain kicks back into gear. Synaptic pruning. Neural plasticity. Machine learning models. You blink up at him, still slick with sweat, and push him off with a shaky hand. “Rude,” you say, voice sharp again. He flops beside you, grinning, while you stagger to your desk, naked, his cum dripping down your thigh. You sit down, pull up your dissertation, and start typing like nothing happened — sentences crisp, ideas flowing.

“Welcome back, genius,” he calls, still sprawled on the couch, annoyingly smug. You don’t even look at him, but your lips twitch. Just ignore him, you’re back, and you’ve got work to finish. At least until he gets hard again.

[wildestheart4ever]

Here are some scenes that have been sitting in my head for a while:

Jason quietly closes the door behind him, scratching the back of his head as he thought of the new information that has been brought to his attention.

The Joker’s dead, it had been a whole public ala execution affair. Killed by his grandfather’s hand.

The King was angry

The Infinite Realms and the human world [or at least, the US] had been at war for two years. Spirits were haunting the streets so often that civilians were secluding themselves in their homes hoping for some semblance of peace.

“War, since when?” As if learning the Joker was dead wasn’t enough, now there’s this? Why did he not know any of this, why did Talia not tell him anything about this???

His bafflement gets him a few laughs and a sympathetic pat on the back. He has to keep from bristling and growling in response, it’s not their fault his source of information has been faulty .

“You’ve really been out of touch with Gotham for a while, haven’t you?” The older man teases, taking another sip of his beer before continuing, “It’s been a whole thing that started two years ago - conoces el Rey de los Muertos? Well apparently he was our Robin’s grandfather, and when he learned that his nieto had been killed, se encabrono. Had a whole manhunt out for the Joker - you should have seen it, it was all over the news. He - como lo mato?”

“Froze the fucker from the inside out and then ripped off his head,” a skinny looking fella at his right offered, letting out a scoff “Good riddance, I say.”

Murmurs of agreement were echoed, as the old goon continued, “I’ll say - anyway! So he not only killed the Joker, he declared war on the US government ‘cause apparently they were hunting his people, you know?”

“What was up with that, anyway? I get all those bozos lookin’ to help the dead move on and shit - but hunting them???”

“I think the Ghost King publicly killing the Joker says enough on the why.”

Jason’s not even gonna touch on that, maybe point a few shadows in his direction, see how that line of thinking fairs.

“Yeah, but it was the Joker.”

“Yeah? And then the war happened, pendejo.”

He pointedly clears his throat to call their attention, giving them a flat look as they offer him sheepish looks.

The man next to him looked just as annoyed by the interruptions, grumbling under his breath before continuing, “So the Ghost King declared war, and we were - or at least the government and the Justice League - that is, were losing badly, which only added to the dead so you can imagine how that went.”

“And the big guy didn’t think that was enough, no, don’t know what he did, but the streets of Gotham were suddenly crawling with dead folk, they were running the streets, harassing people - it was terrifying up until we realized only the rich folk -“

“- And the rogues, don’t forget the rogues”

“Yeah, and the rogues were getting the brunt of their anger, and Crime Alley - donde estaba lleno de ellos? - fucking peaceful. Then there was rumors of people seeing their dead so and sos, and well, since the big dead hotshots we’re keeping the violent ones in line……”

“Fuck them, right?” Jason finished with a mean smile. He can only guess who the hotshots were - his old man had a lot of stories to share about what used to be his own rogue gallery. He huffed at the boisterous jeering, smiling a little before nodding, “So when did the war end?”

“Since this March. I’m guessing the big guy finally got what he wanted ‘cause since then everything has been quiet - his troops all left except for the residents of Gotham I think.”

“Good riddance - ow! Hijo de su chingada madre, what was that for?!” One goon swore, rubbing the back of his head and scowling at the woman who smacked him.

“We’re you born yesterday? Everyone knows that the dead like to talk. You know the phrase Even the walls have ears? Best take that shit to heart, ‘cause they’re everywhere.”

He huffed a large gust of breath before tensing, finally picking up the presence in his apartment, hand immediately pulling out his gun and pointing it at the shadowed figure sitting on his ratty couch -

“Now, sonny, you should know by now those things don’t work on me.”

The sound of that familiar voice had him relaxing a smidge, lowering the weapon and carefully eyeing his grandfather, “Hey gramps.”

It had been hard to differentiate the chill between all the strong spirits roaming the streets these days, but none of them resonated with his core the way only one ghost could.

Turning up the light switch, Jason watched as his grandfather studied the book in his hand with a bemused look, “You always were such an avid reader, much like my sister.”

“Great aunt Jazz?” Yeah, he recalled the stories his gramps used to tell him about his old friends and family. It had given him a warm feeling, knowing his family hadn’t been pervaded by cruel or indifferent relatives.

No, just mostly dead dead ones.

The old man hummed, smiling a little smile before setting the book aside, “Yes, though her taste in literature lied more in psychology than your old classics. It’s nice to know the beyond hadn’t changed any of your interests.”

“Nah, just a bunch of other things.” He hopes this wasn’t the man starting down the path of bemoaning the loss of who he used to be, he was already fearing it from Bruce.

“Yes, Fright Knight has been telling me about the things you’ve been getting up to. Blood thirsty is how he describes it.”

Great, so it was sounding a lot like he had a babysitter he wasn’t aware of. Deciding to ignore the thought, he offered the man a shrug, “Had some important plans I’ve been trying to set in motion but - but apparently there was some unexpected trouble I had to……”

Jason watched the man get to his feet, eyes drifting higher and head tilting back, once again feeling like that clueless boy pinned under the man’s heavy gaze. The years have done nothing to his grandfather [not surprising, considering he was dead], he was still the same looming figure he always was, he was in his human disguise - not that that changed anything about his intimidating disposition but…..

His eyes were red

“Something troubling you, Jason?”

He quickly shook his head, scratching the back of his head and feeling a little off kilter, “No no, it’s just…….did you really kill the Joker?”

“Of course I did.”

Of course I did. Like it was such an easy thing to admit, Jason couldn’t - he - but this wasn’t, “Why?”

The old coot blinked owlishly at him, “Why, ‘cause that sorry excuse of a meat bag killed you, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him get away with it, that’s why.”

“It’s because I’m the Prince of the Infinite Realms, your heir, right?”

Large rough hands carefully cradled his head, “Because you are my grandson, one that I had failed miserably - the least I could do is make sure your murderer faced the consequences.”

That…..that was a little too much to take this late in the day. Jason tried to resist leaning into his grandpa’s touch, taking comfort in the guttural growl of his core and letting out a shuddering sigh before mumbling, “Aren’t you worried about him coming back as a ghost? He certainly seemed obsessive enough for it.”

The man huffed, almost as if amused, “Trust me, my little ghostling - that’s already been taken care of.”

There was something sinister in that statement and Jason was sure he was going to regret asking but, “What did you do to him?”

“You remember what your teacher taught you about newly forming cores?”

“Yeaaaaaah?”

“So you know there’s a window of opportunity while the core is forming it’s body in which stronger ghost can and will devour it?”

Jason blinked, leaning back to stare at the man’s seemingly peaceful expression and tried not to shudder at recalling that bit of information, “Gramps?”

“Yes, Jason?”

“Are you telling me you ate the Joker?”

The old man laughed, like he thought Jason was being funny, “Oh no, not at all. No, I let an audience of his victims get their pound of flesh of his newly formed body before I devoured his struggling core.”

Casual cannibalism aside, he got a feeling that there was more to that, “Aaaaaand?”

He let the old coot carefully dust him off, picking lint off his shoulder before adding, “Well you see, Jason, the Joker had a very long list of victims - and while some of them were very persistent in the notion of never seeing or hearing from him again, the majority really wanted their pound of flesh. So you can image it was quite a…..repeated process.”

Torture, the Joker was fucking tortured just as he got into after life, going through the most likely arduous process of reforming only to repeat the process all over again, and just when he thought he’d finally get away?

Bye bye, off to never after, never to be someone’s problem anymore.

Holy shit.

@stealingyourbones @ashfly

In this AU, Danny is Jason’s paternal grandfather. [Does DP take place in like the 70s if I'm making Danny this old in the current time? Idk, but the idea of changing the era in which it takes place is always an interesting concept]

It takes place in an "Ultimate Enemy" AU, everyone dies and Danny is left a sad bitter drifter [Destroying all Fenton equipment and research, and avoiding Vlad like the plague, every encounter growing more hostile]. To add to the general angst, he’s also basically on a one-man mission to burn down the GIW.

He did not take the GIW into that much account, so Danny spends years being hunted and equally destroying GIW bases. Unbeknownst to him, the GIW had been keeping a very keen eye on the Fentons and their work [not to mention unearthing Vlad's brand of work], and thus Danny seethes at his failure

At some point, he tries to lead some semblance of a human life after sticking to the Ghost Zone and learning the ways of the ghosts for a while [He finally destroys the portals after learning to make portals on his own - if the destruction of Vlad's portal leads to Vlad sustaining a fatal injury, well whatever].

He meets someone, someone he feels he can trust with his secrets, and pursues a life with them. Cue marriage in the courthouse, cue bun in the oven. Cue nice shit for a while that has him thinking everything will be okay

Cue GIW being generally awful [Police investigating, worried neighbors, ransacked apartment, and a missing wife. Cold rage and unsettled officers, his eyes turn red for the first time.]

Dead wifey on a metal table, bun in the oven missing, and cue Danny’s faith in humanity taking a severe blow.

He loses his shit.

Growing older, growing bitter, and his moral compass turning all the more grayer [at some point wondering why he's been letting these people live]. He hunts GIW bases with a bloody vengeance and any stragglers that might've escaped? Well, he's got plenty of hounds and shadows to send on the hunt.

He turns anti-ish humans, bitter and angry.

Years continue to pass and the staggering numbers of agents loyal to the anti-ghost organization grow smaller, enough for Danny to pull back and leave only a few shades to keep a lookout. With that, he keeps mostly to the Infinite Realms, dead and resentful but taking great care of his people.

Why did he never find Willis or Jason? Well, I say it's because Gotham is a pretty strong city spirit, so her ecto signature kinda masks the ghostly residents living there.

Baby grows up to be Willis, but more on the weirder ghostly nonsense side. I like the idea of him being a good dad before things went to shit, teaching Jason about all the ways of the ghost [Not that either of them knew that. They’re not as ghostly as Danny, it’s just subtle things like cores communication and sneakiness]

Jason goes through his tragic events before his and B’s fateful meeting. Cue Jason being noticeably weird and ghostly in the Manor halls [his and Dick’s first meeting is Jason scaring the shit of Dick. One minute Dick is angry and looking to pick a bone with Bruce, the next, there's a child standing behind him staring at him - where'd he come from? Cause he sure as shit didn't hear anyone walk into the room.]

Danny is part of JL, only as a member that they call for hopeless scenarios. He is pretty unapproachable and JL is just relieved he’s willing to help at all.

He's a somber man by the time that first meeting comes around, bitter, unapproachable, and carries a distinct dislike for humans. The JL are only grateful that he's willing to give his help at all. Do they know about his quiet war with the GIW? No, Phantom keeps measures in keeping it all hush hush, he doesn't let agents get the chance to report incidents or call for outside help, in fact, he makes it all look like an accident when he's feeling particularly vicious.

Jason meets Phantom in an apocalyptic mission he wasn’t supposed to be in. Shrinks under the man’s intense gaze and quietly thinks Dick’s opinion of the man is spot on, he’s an overwhelming force and it feels like he’s being stared down by a predator.

He thinks the old man looks kinda sad.

But strangely enough, he also feels familiar.

[I like to think that there’s such a thing as familial cores, that can communicate impressions and feelings, that resonate deeper than a core would with a stranger. Like beacons.] Their cores are the source of purring. Jason's embarrassed to say the thrum [The one he's known and taken comfort in all his life] within him sounds almost like a kitten's purr, questioning, and yearning. The man's? It sounds almost like Willis' used to: Like a crocodile, deep and guttural, a sound so chilling yet feels warm and tentative. Hopeful and just as strangely yearning as his.

I also just get the image of Bambi meeting his dad for the first time lol

Batman swoops in like an over protective parent. Phantom is demanding where did he find Jason, he’s agitated and asking all sorts of questions B doesn’t have all the answers to.

Batman asks for the reason for Phantom’s desperate interest in Jason.

“Our cores share resonance, a factor only found in familial relationships”

Now B knows about Jason’s oddities, has a year getting used to them - but it’s never occurred to him the source or read for them.

The age difference hides a lot, but B can see a lot of the family resemblance. It’s in their bro, the shape of their jaw, the shape of their eyes

The burning green Jason’s eyes turn to when overwhelmed.

Cue Danny finding maybe not the child he thought he lost, but a grandchild and he makes it abundantly clear he wants some involvement in the boy’s life.

And a health check. Gotham may have been able to sustain Jason but she is still a cursed city, god knows how that affected the ghostling’s health.

[If Batman tries to search up every possible thing about the Ghost Kings from his human life, well, it's not like Gotham will tell - heck, she probably helps nudge him along. Gotta make sure Jaylad's last living(???) biological relative would be a good thing in his life]

Jason’s life proceeds as normal, even as he tries to forget the fact he has a grandfather who’s the king of another dimension and that there are now shadows dogging his steps. That's not mentioning the trips he gets to make to the Infinite Realms.

If he grows impish and generally more creepy? Batman nor Batgirl mention it. A far cry from the mischievous demeanor Dick built Robin on. They don't mention how his giggle now feels chilling or foreboding, or how their adrenaline pumps when he exercises his invisibility, Batman refuses the thought of it feeling like a predator stalking prey - he's sure the goons already think that enough as is.

Then you know what happens: Joker has been keeping a keen eye on Batman and his lot, he knows about Batman’s little birdy’s weirdness and……well, he is eager to play with the new toys he got from that decrepit little organization he found.

Cue the tragedy, cue an angry grieving Bat and an even angrier king.

Phantom is there at the funeral, disguised as a human [He doesn't have a human form, not anymore.]. Making it clear to Bruce he blames him just as much for this tragedy.]

Phantom spent weeks searching in the deepest corners of the Infinite Realms hoping to find the forming remains of his grandson. Phantom is only left with the knowledge that the boy passed over to the beyond.

Anything left of his patience for humans snaps like a frayed thread.

The king is furious, demanding why the boy felt the need to find family elsewhere, demanding why he was left alone

He wants blood

[I suppose he turns into a different flavor of Dan, he’s not targeting just everyone, he’s just targeting those involved down from the Joker to what remains of everyone involved with that damned organization]

He basically declared war on them.

Superman in a typical fashion when faced with Batman’s first attempt on the Joker’s life, tries to reason with the ghost.

Phantom isn’t having it.

“I’m going to make this very clear to you, Kal El. The prince of the Infinite Realms, my beloved grandson, the last of my family, has been murdered by a retched human, using weapons designed against my kind. If you think I’m going to sit idle or let you and anyone else get in my way? Don’t expect mercy from me and mine.

Try to get in my way Kryptonian, I dare you.”

Ghouls and shades swarm everywhere, particularly in Gotham [She is facing the punishment of being unable to protect her bird, even if he’s left her reach], the ghost in the cursed city become visible to the human eye as they help search for the Joker.

He’s found, by the king’s knight. Dragged kicking and giggling as he’s thrown at the king’s feet.

The king grabs the retched clown’s head with a large clawed hand and stares the Joker in the eye as he slowly freezes his insides

While many silently rejoice over the monster finally meeting his end, they cannot stand to look as bloody icicles stab through the man from within.

The beheading seems pointless, but watching this man rip off the Joker’s head, they get the feeling the Ghost King could not help the display of violence

He was stating a point.

Danny loses all faith in humanity and makes it known. He's pissed.

Basically, Batman had one job and he blew it, so there goes whatever relationship the JL had with Phantom.

JL is now missing one of their heavy hitters.

Tim watches Batman spiral and Gotham grow more obviously haunted.

It's like a war zone

Jason returns from the dead and Danny instantly knows about it [he had shades guarding his grave, he knows]. Cue him following his catatonic grandbaby and basically becoming a helicopter parent - Ras is kept in line at the threat of his corrupted bath water being taken from him, and Danny vaguely threatens Talia as he discerns her intentions towards Jason.

The Prince returns to Gotham and the shades are supporting his violent hobbies.

Jason's a little thrown off to find that the Joker had been publicly murdered execution-style.

He goes back to his apartment to think and finds Grandpa waiting for him. He's a little shocked and ill at ease at the massive grudge the old man holds for Batman.

Phantom offers Lady Gotham an apology, citing her inability to interfere. But Batman is a different matter.

That’s all I got for now. Lol, this got very long and I wasn’t expecting to be hit with the inspiration, might think of more soon.

I’ll add what I imagine old King Danny looks like in a minute. Is it necessary? No, but I have to share it with you.

How Danny looks:

I know everyone is a fan of twink!Danny but I'm leaning more on Jack's side of the gene pool in this case. The dude is huge, broad, and towers over everyone by several inches [Jason's epic growth spurt makes more sense when you look at his family lineage lol]. You know that thing Walker does where he's normal heights one moment, and looming sky high the other? Yeah, Danny can do that.

His getup? From what comes up at the top of my head: Something between Dan’s suit and lightweight gothic-style armor, spikes, and beady eyed skulls galore. He doesn’t wear gloves so you can see he charred black claws and he doesn't wear a chest plate, so it reveals the tattered remains of the insignia Sam made for him [I’m honestly thinking of Infinity War!Steve, with how roughened up he looks].

He's like Alfred's age, maybe older. He always has a severe frown on his face. Generally looks like he's one step away from losing his patience

Corpse pale skin, almost bluish

Wispy hair. Some say it looks like it's moving like it's underwater, others think it's wispy and foggy lookin' like dry ice. Along with the crown, it looks like his hair is flaming, which he tries not to think about.

Three eye colors: The general acid green - default, pale ice blue - when using his powers, red - when he's really pissed off. There used to be a fourth, the soft sky blues of when he was human. Jason had his eyes, Danny's sad those were gone too.

He has fangys, he will use them. In fact, he can stretch his jaws wide open horror style to reveal rows of sharp teeth.

Claws, he'll use those too. Long black claws up to his second knuckles, cold blue up to the center of his palms.

[cosmicalily]

12:21am with kim seungmin - a @cosmicalily timestamp

"i just wanna touch you babe but i can't take my clothes off, guess it’s kinda funny, if i think too long, i’ll cry about it. i just wanna fuck you babe but i can't take my clothes off, guess i’ll keep on dancing around it, 'round it, ooh!” - ‘clothes off’ by aleksiah

author’s note: this little drabble is pretty personal to me, something i haven't explored on tumblr before. i have a lot of anxiety around sexual intimacy, which i feel like isn't discussed that much in mainstream media. when the song 'clothes off' by aleksiah was released, i literally cried. i'd never found a song that just summed up all my feelings so perfectly. wanting it but not. feeling guilty. feeling needy. i hope you understand what i'm trying to convey, i love you all xx

warnings: insecurities (around sex and sexual intimacy)

You didn’t quite know how you’d ended up making out with your best friend, Seungmin.

Maybe it had been the cup of tea he’d made you, humming softly to himself as he boiled the water, adding exactly a spoonful and a half of honey, just the way he knew you liked it.

Maybe it had been the fact that just yesterday, he’d silently restocked the second drawer in your vanity where you kept your stash of period products that he’d noticed were running low.

Maybe it had been the lyrics that you’d found when you were vacuuming the house, stashed under his bed with your name written in the title.

But you knew it wasn’t a singular event. You’d fallen for him ages ago.

The tea was now cold, sitting to the side of the coffee table, half drunken. You didn’t really feel the need to drink it anymore, not when you could spend hours, hours that you’d longed for since forever, kissing the plump lips that had whispered so many sweet secrets into your ears mere minutes ago.

“I love you.”

“You’re perfect.”

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted this?”

“You’re the prettiest girl, you know that, yeah?”

“Wait,” you blurted, pulling your face away from Seungmin’s, out of breath. “I don’t . . . I don’t think I can. I don’t think I want to.”

Seungmin looked at you worriedly, moving his hands from your waist and sitting up straight. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s not you. I just . . .”

“It’s okay.”

He reached out for your hand, and you reluctantly gave it to him. He didn’t say anything for a bit, just rubbed soft circles into the back of your palm. Your breathing slowed. So did your heart rate.

“I don’t want you for sex,” he said eventually, staring out the window. The curtains were closed, but the moonlight melted through a little, casting a soft glow across his face. He was like the moon. Permanent and dependable and always there to watch over you.

Especially at night, when your thoughts became too much.

“Of course, if you wanted to have it, I wouldn’t be opposed,” he continued, turning to look at you. His hand shifted to gently brush a tear from your cheek. “But I want you because I want you. And if that means kissing and falling asleep, that’s what I want.”

“You’re not bored?” you mumbled, not quite meeting his eye.

“I could never be.”

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @heartsbyani @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger @woozarts @zelinkcrossing @urlocalmultigroupfan @shuuporanglinos @lezleeferguson-120 @r1nstaaa - dm, comment or send an ask to be added :)

[jamiehe4rtsmen]

⁹ can't believe i get to call you mine

୨ৎ

"you see that girl over there?" schlatt leans on the counter, pointing towards you across the deli shop, who was squinting at the menu (you forgot your glasses at home and were suffering the consequences).

the underpaid employee blinks. "yeah."

schlatt lights up, a dumb grin settling on his face as he lets out a giggle. "that's my girl. can you believe that?"

"wow... so, what kind of sandwich do you w—"

"i mean, that's like, the definition of pulling above your league. am i right?" he pushes his elbow into the cashier gently, like they were best buds who were catching up after a long day.

"for sure. what kind—"

"i asked her yesterday, and she actually said yes! can you believe i—"

"give me your fucking sandwich order."

his video had now garnered 9.9 million views, titled "the bit went too far". it started off as an apology video, apologinzg for something vague, until you walked into frame and chirped "hey babe, whatcha doin'?" in the video, schlatt whipped his head around and hissed, "shh! what if they see you? i'll lose like, all my revenue from my woman audience!" your eyes widen and you giggle conspiratorially, walking out of the frame. schlatt turns around, facing the screen, and shrugs awkwardly before the video cuts off. all thirty seconds of it went absolutely viral.

right after this video was posted, unpaid intern came out with its first episode. a specific clip mentioning you went viral.

"so, after everything that's happened today, how are we feeling? like schlatt, we all know you've got a girl back home." ludwig transferred the microphone from himself to schlatt.

he grumbled, "what's it t'ya?"

"well, are the two of you thinkin' about kids?" a grin broke out across ludwig's face.

schlatt's poker face was immaculate as he shrugged. "well, so far the two of us have been trying to keep her tamagotchi alive more than anything, so once we deal with that first... we'll think 'bout it. but i don't mind the idea."

the kids burst out into the classic teasing chant of, "schlatt and his girlfriend kissing in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G—"

"alright, alright! cool your little jets, kiddos." he groans, ruffling their hair.

on his new minecraft server, he was talking about you (as always). he killed a few sheep and made you a pink bed, placing it quite literally right next to his. he made a little sign that said "for my girl" and side eyed chat before quickly scrambling to add a little "<3" at the end, but when his chat teased him for it he scoffed, gaslighting to the thousandth degree. "psh.. no, chat. you guys are seein' things."

he'd added a new dono goal (which he reached in under an hour), which read "STREAM W/ THE MISSUS." he begrudgingly kept his word, booting up a just chatting stream titled "q&a with woman."

chat had fed him important questions to ask, like your name and hobbies, but he purposefully picked out the most funny one. straight-faced he looked at you and loudly proclaimed, "would you still love me if i was a blue ford f-150?" to which he got a hesitant, "...yes, but would i be like... carsexual then?"

he had also been caught and clipped glancing at his phone during streams and chuckling to himself, his cheeks flushed. sometimes he would even turn his phone to chat to show that toots 💕 texted him "saw a pineapple can at the grocery store next to a lawnmower and thought of you"

"ah. shakespeare's got nothin' on my girl. bill can suck a cock." he sighed, clearly lovelorn as he chuckled to himself.

sometimes chat would tease him with donos such as "blink twice if you need help" or "dating above your league final boss"

but his favorite thing was when someone on twitter tagged him in a photo of you and a man talking to each other, captioned "@/jschlatt, i'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but i saw your girl at a restaurant with this guy. dm me if you need emotional support 😘 xoxo"

schlatt was sent this tweet on stream, and burst out laughing. he laughed so hard he burst into tears, then he called you in the room with a mock-serious voice. "babe, jschlattsleftsock on twitter—"

"x, the everything app," you jokingly interrupt him.

he rolls his eyes, clearing his throat and grumbling, "not fuckin' calling it that. anyway, she said that you cheated on me with this guy." he burst into laughter as he showed the photo of you and the guy.

you burst into laughter two, but in between laughs you wheezed, "that's— my older brother— oh my gosh! and the xoxo at the end, the girl is shameless!"

chat, when they realized the truth of the situation, calmed down and started laughing too. you and the guy did look eerily similar to anyone with a pair of eyes, and it became a bit between the two of you and chat.

୨ৎ

divider credits @issysh3ll

[faecaribou]

on my knees asking for you to draw your interpretation of this

the whole team gets deaged by twenty years

most of them are a range of late teens to early thirties, but.

Scout and Sniper.

Spy gets a second chance at being Scout's dad + plus a bonus of raising Sniper too

Genuinely I could not get this out of my head. I spent hours on this and now literally every electronic i have is like at 4% battery and its 1 am. This is such a goated idea. Here are the mercs deaged, or what they would look like younger. I totally didnt have to google everyone's ages (visibly lying)

I feel like I did well with Heavy and Medic. They're the oldest in the group. Heavy when he was 26 was probably freshly dealing with escaping the gulag with his family. Visually I just got rid of his beard left him with the stubble though and gave him back his hair, which in the comics appears to be brown. For Medic, I think I spelt lisence wrong. Yeah there's a red line under it. Fuck. Whatever. I stole his muscles and also gave him back his hairline. Also, big glasses.

I'm going by age but I know what you want. Here's Spy. I wanted him to look as close to Scout as possible SO BAD but their noses are different and canonically his hair is much darker but I like to pretend the BLU Spy has that darker hair and RED Spy has more brown hair. Maybe someone's grandparents had blond hair (I swear I read a fic where Spy was like 'jeremy has my papas blond hair >m<') ANYWAY i dont think he's older than heavy and medic but also like. JEEZ. He just wanted to sleep with some MILFs or cougars he didnt expect children. L

The way that I'm actually obsessed with my own drawing for younger Engie. haiiiii. I feel like I would bump into him IRL on a college campus. Lowkey he reminds me of someone but I dont even know who.

I don't have much to say for Soldier and Pyro. I was getting some conflicting reports on Soldier's age so I just put him in the middle of the conflicting reports. He's probably already started his uh. killing rampage in Germany. I just deaged Pyro and left him in the same outfit because I dont actually have a fan design for Pyro outside the suit.

I gave Demoman the kilt and sash that his father's wearing in this one scene in the comics where there was like. A family photo of the DeGroot family. I definitely didnt study every single image of younger Demo in the comics. ha. ha. If I spent a million hours on just this drawing of Tav.

Side note, your ask totally reminded me of this fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/60095656 which is all the mercs deaged by like 25 years and Scout is literally like a year old and its great and I definitely did not leave 8 million comments on this fic (stares off into the distance)

I accidentally drew Sniper looking too young (right-most drawing) but honestly the smile with the missing tooth gave me life. aaaahhhh He really shouldve been drawn with a hat since he's out there in Australia but oops. I gave him his mullet back <3maybe he should be 7

finally, Jeremy. I definitely didn't originally decide he was 5 and then for the sake of my sanity when I think of Spy's agechange it to 4. Yeah

Heavy's too busy helping his mom raise his sisters. Don't give Medic kids. So yeah it's up to Spy to step up and take care of Mick alongside Jeremy.

Okay I think I will eventually reblog this post with more art but for right now I'm done with drawing and just going to type endless paragraphs and over nonsense thoughts

okay so they get de-aged. how??? i could take a page out of that fic i recommended and blame magic/merasmus. I feel like Respawn Machine malfunction is a pretty common trope for de-aging just one guy in fics but imagine it malfunctioned and now they're all de-aged. damnnnnn they lost that battle against BLU hard AND this happened? L

I imagine it's like. Logically they know who they are, they know each other, they know their jobs. But also it kinda feels like yesterday they were off in Russia/Australia/German/Boston doing their own things. The younger 3 are especially having this problem. No one's sure if Pyro understands whats going on.

They're all in their red team merc outfits btw for Pyro's sake. But for the drawings they've taken like. their weapons off and gotten in clothes that either fit better or are more comfortable.

Medic is all like "ooooh! interesting >:3" and definitely wants to open SOMEONE up but he's scaring the hoes (children) so him and Engineer kind of separate to go deal with the Respawn Machine. Engineer may have to call his dad for help at some point. He is going to hate it hahahahahaah >:)

Demoman and Soldier and Pyro are just like. Having the worlds most disjointed conversation. "ARE YOU AMERICAN?" "huddah huddah" "(super thick scottish accent)" no one is understanding anyone. Pyro pulls out paper and coloring pencils and they are just trying to furiously communicate through drawings

Scout is four and since he on some level remembers Spy as a kid when he's an adult, he definitely recognizes Spy as both his dad and as ...Spy. Cue crying.

Mick is kinda scared. He definitely tries to retreat to his camper van but no one's gonna let an 8 year old sleep out there by himself so he's resorted to hiding in his room on base, which he just kinda uses for storage, which is where he finds the slingshot. Anyone who opens the door to talk to him gets a rock to the face I don't make the rules. Okay well except for Scout he's not going to pelt a four year old with rocks. The mercs will use this hesitation to their advantage to get him

Spy takes his mask off. He doesn't want to, he doesn't like them looking at his face, it just makes Jeremy cry more, people are asking him how old he is, someone said he looks a lot like Scout.

He one-hundred percent sees this as like. His chance to actually be Jeremy's dad. He was too much of a coward the first time around and sometimes the guilt eats at him. Something something if Spy and Ma had a second child Spy would completely ignore Scout to fuss over the 2nd kid because it would be a clean slate that he hasn't ruined. WHAT WHO SAID THAT. Anyway the driving force that leads him to take his mask off and pick up that screaming kid is that this is his second chance. I imagine he got some practice in with some of Scout's brothers and with baby Scout so he's not the best dealing with a screaming 4 year old but he's not the worst.

After like. A few hours of getting Scout to calm down, they have now upgraded to Scout is really really quiet and visibly upset but he only screams and cries when Spy goes to grab him. Ultimately Jeremy thinks that they might get put back to normal and once he's older again Spy will abandon him again so he is NOT letting Spy pick him up without trying to bite him at least once. Spy is slowly earning his trust.

This is also the point where Spy realizes that Sniper is hiding in his room with the slingshot. After like 3 different mercs getting pelted with rocks in the face Spy realizes he has to step up and dad this kid too.

Scout sees Spy extend even one iota of patience or kindness toward Sniper and is torn between "oh he's actually trying" and "HES GOING TO CHOOSE SNIPER TO BE HIS SON INSTEAD OF ME"

wait I'm just creating more conflicts rather than resolving anything. fuck its 2 am. look the (he's not crying, YOU ARE!) hug drawing would be when Scout finally lets Spy give him a hug and it would be SO SATISFYING and the crowd stood up and clapped and after Jeremy starts hanging off of Spy like a limpet Spy also successfully gets Sniper to come out of the room. why did I write an entire plot am I going to write a fic. oh no please no I'm busy with the time travel noooooo

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh, this chapter was just deliciously angsty!!! Just my cup of tea loll 😇

Loved every minute of it 😍😍

Oh, Micheal is just such a lovely, lovely person, isn't he? 😒 In the words of Taylor Swift: Michael doesn't measure up in any measure of a man...

“Do what you gotta do in the times, ‘s what I say,” Sam agreed.

Why did his wording here remind me so much of that? 😂😂

“Try to stay alive,” Sam rejoined.

Noooo dead 💀💀

Hahaha omfg I loved Sam so much during this chapter! He was awesome!!! Go Lawyer!Sam 😎🤎 (And I have no idea if you intended for my mind to jump to Changing Channels and French Mistake Sam with these lines, but it did, so THANK you 🤣🫶)

“But sometimes…sometimes an anchor just feels suffocating,” he said.

I do understand his struggle after the war, but it's literally NO excuse to treat his wife like shit, cheat on her, lie to her, spend her money for his trashy sidepiece, and God knows what else. You don't want an anchor? Fine. Get divorced. The fact he keeps her around and won't let her find her own happiness after she literally saved his life is so mind-boggingly selfish smh The least he could to show his gratitude is not be a gigantic cuntface 🤬

You never thought you would dishonor your husband as well as yourself.

Ugh, God, poor thing! 😭💔 With all the romanticism of that period sadly also comes the shame of taboo topics (not to mention feminism in general taking a backseat lol) Really feel for her here! Wish she wouldn't blame herself as much. Her husband is a dirtbag 😔

“Oh, sorry,” Dean said, making way for the guy. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dean, lithe, blonde, and blue-eyed. He grabbed an arrangement of blue and yellow iris flowers from the case and took it up to the front. The florist seemed to recognize him. “Oh, Michael! Been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said.

SCREAMING 😳😳😳

The whole flower shop scene was like watching a train wreck. Poor Dean! So many stingers in those few sentences!! 😩 (And man, I wanna choke Michael!!! Buying flowers? Dinner? Are you fucking kidding me??? WHAT THE F–???)

But did you stop the angst there? Nope! The reader part of me hated you, while the writer part highly commended you 😂💜

“As long as Michael plays along, should be quick. A few months at most, after he’s served the divorce papers and signs them,” Sam assured. A few months? That wasn’t quick enough in your book, but you agreed with a nod. You got up from the chair opposite his desk. You hesitated there.

I already knew it wouldn't be fast, but I knew this was going to be a problem. Where would she stay during this? Michael certainly won't have it, and I really fear for her safety here 🥺 (Reading the teaser for the last part, I think I have good reason to, even though I know you said once earlier I didn't need to. Still, you got me shaking here, girl 😅)

Surprised Sam wouldn't think about that, considering everything he found out about the guy so far 👀

You not only found Dean in Central Park, but close to the very same bench you two had sat on yesterday and talked the night away. He was surprised, but he smiled when he saw you. Your pace quickened, until you were hastening over to him. He welcomed you into his arms. He bent his head towards yours, stopping just shy of kissing you. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours for a moment.

This was such a dreamy, swoon-worthy movie scene *sighs* 😍🫠

And then they had to start talking, didn't they? Specifically Dean. The infamous DW self-loathing enters the AU 😆

I really just wanted to cover his piehole and tell him to stop talking, kiss her for real, and take her with you. Hide out in Kansas till everything blows over 😭

“You’re just saying that so you have an excuse for toying with me. So you can keep chasing skirts,” you said, pushing at his chest. “Yes, your brother told me about all your little exploits.” Dean took the blow, both proverbial and physical, with a raise of his brows. He guessed he couldn’t blame you for that one. Still, the disdain behind your words stung. He allowed you to break free of him.

It hurts. It hurts so much...

And I'm so glad the brothers had a long overdue chat as well! I still feel so incredibly heartbroken for Dean 😭

I can't wait for the last part of this & how it all will tie together in the end! Eeeek! This is so, so, so incredibly good, friend!!! 😍😍😍 (And I get to read it on Patreon tonight too hehe 🩵)

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Now we get into the aftermath of the night before, with all the insecurity and heartbreak to go along with it. 💙

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “Danke Shoen” by Wayne Newton

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of cheating, angsty angst, trauma/PTSD, and a cliffhanger…

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 4: Complicit

Sam would give Michael one thing. The guy damn well knew how to drink.

He didn’t stop all night, throwing back whiskey like it was cheap beer. His words began to slur, his movements sloppy, but he was still coherent. When he got up to visit the men’s restroom, Sam got up as well. Maybe he could get Michael talking.

Sam stopped the other man from tripping into the urinal. The two laughed it off, with Michael thanking him before he unzipped to finish his business. Sam did the same.

After washing their hands, Sam looked over and noticed Michael’s gaze lingering on his own reflection in the mirror. It was becoming a rough sight—his blonde hair no longer neatly coiffed, purplish rings under his eyes, the stench of alcohol clinging to his skin and clothing.

“You all right there, Milligan?” Sam asked.

Michael ran a hand over his face, sighing when it didn’t get any better.

“Fine,” he replied. “So, Winchester. What did you say you do for work again? Something about your own business?”

Sam nodded. “I started up a law firm.”

That much, he had to be honest about. It was all too easy for someone to look up his name in the directory.

“Sounds like a good outfit,” Michael said, with an incline of his head. “Every lawyer I know wears a Rolex.”

Sam chuckled, glancing down at his father’s watch. “Well, I’m not quite there yet.”

“Someday soon, I’m sure,” said Michael. He bumped Sam conspiringly on the shoulder.

“And you?” Sam asked. “What’s keeping the lights on at your place?”

Michael raised a hand to sort through his unruly hair, a dirtier blonde in this unflattering light.

“Well, you could say I’ve inherited a business of my own,” he said. “I run a meat packing plant down in the district.”

Sam’s attention piqued. There had been a meat rationing during the war, even some rumors and propaganda about “meatleggers,” black market operators.

“How’s it been with the rations?” Sam asked. “Been hard to even find a good carton of eggs lately.”

Michael gave him a slight smile. “Been on the turnaround, actually. I’ve been able to make some connections with vendors outside the city. A little grease on the palms makes a little go a long way, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly smiled and nodded. A little grease on the palms, huh?

“Do what you gotta do in the times, ‘s what I say,” Sam agreed.

Michael snorted. “Now you’re talkin’. That’s all we can do, you know. Try to make a thing work, with whatever scraps we get. Try to stay afloat.”

“Try to stay alive,” Sam rejoined.

Michael made a low sound of approval. He became more contemplative, crossing his arms as he once again glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sam’s gaze on the other man was perceptive, gaining ever closer to what seemed to be eating at the very core of him. Whether Sam actually believed what he was saying or not, each of his words was a test, a subtle nudge.

“You know,” Michael said. “I was shot down in France.”

Sam sobered further. Leaning against the counter, he retrieved two cigarettes and a lighter. He didn’t often smoke, but he thought it might keep the other man talking. He handed one over to Michael, and he took it gratefully. They lit up together and coiled musky tobacco smoke into the air.

“Where?” Sam asked.

Michael snorted, huffing a bit of smoke. “Lord knows. But when I woke up, I had stitches from here to here.”

He gestured to the back of his head, all the way to above his brow. It explained a small, but noticeable scar near his temple.

“And I had an angel standing over me,” he added, his eyes growing heavy. Guilty. “A bona fide angel. She’d stitched me up, she told me. She also told me I was lucky to be alive. The doc wanted to toe tag me and be done with it, but she thought I still had some fight left in me.”

Michael shook his head. “The next chance I got, I married her.”

Sam’s brows rose. He knew you had been a nurse, but he hadn’t known this part of your story.

“A wartime romance, huh?” he said. Michael quirked a smile.

“She was my anchor,” he said. “After it was all said and done, she followed me here, held my feet down to the ground. Sometimes she had to hammer me down, ya know.”

He hesitated, his eyes somewhat glazing over. He stared over Sam’s shoulder at something only he could see.

“But sometimes…sometimes an anchor just feels suffocating,” he said. “Sometimes, you need to forget your own damn name. Forget that your entire life and mortgage is in a warehouse that might as well be a freezer full a’ dead cow meat. And still, it smells a hell of a lot better than lying on a dirty cot—where the last guy who had your spot probably got his leg sawed off.” 

Michael considers the cigarette in his hand for a long while before he takes another puff.

Sam exhales smoke as well. He spent the last three years behind a desk, but he sees the same shaken core in Michael Milligan that he too often sees in his older brother.

“You know, Winchester, there’s two kinds of men,” Michael said, just a hint of a slur in his voice. “The ones who pray to live…and the ones who beg for it to be over.”

“And what kind of man are you now?” Sam asked. His tone was loose, but his gaze was sharp.

Michael snorted. He dabbed the butt of his cigarette on the inside of the sink before he threw it away.

“I’m the guy who can’t die,” he muttered.

He rolled his shoulders, as if to let the weight of his words and everything that came along with them to roll off his back. Then he pushed his way out of the bathroom, leaving Sam considering more than just half a cigarette.

That night after Dean left, you slept in the guest room instead of your bed. You couldn’t even bring yourself to sleep next to Michael when he stumbled in at four in the morning, especially now that you had seen his game with your own eyes. 

However, you also felt complicit yourself the next morning. You felt…ashamed. You took your vows seriously. You had never in your life thought you would be someone so brazen. You never thought you would dishonor your husband as well as yourself.

And yet. All while you got ready for work, hearing Michael’s snores from the other room, your mind was filled with warmth and memory���of Dean. His smile, his voice, his eyes, his lips, and of course, his hands. You couldn’t decide which of them was your favorite, but his hands were high on the list. 

You shouldn’t have let him in, you reminded yourself. You nibbled on your lower lip while you prepped the coffee maker. You should have told him goodnight at the door and saw him off. You should very well not have invited him up to the apartment, let alone drank with him, or let him touch you…

You paused while the sound of percolation and the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. You looked up at yourself in the small mirror that hung on the wall. The woman looking back at you was conflicted at best.

Yes, you felt guilty. But at the same time, you didn’t. Was it really betraying your marriage if your husband had been doing far worse, and for God knew how long?

No. This wasn’t a marriage. This was a sham. A mockery of the very thing.

You frowned angrily and almost slammed the carafe on the counter when the coffee was done. Forcing yourself to take a few steadying breaths, you allowed that hate and anger to slowly drain out of you, and you smiled.

You marveled that you could smile at all, but it was only thanks to Dean Winchester.

What the hell am I doing?

Dean stared at the two bouquets of flowers. One was a bound bunch of red roses, the other was wildflowers and other colorful ones he didn’t know the names of. He was having a hard time deciding, namely because he didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked.

Because after all, he barely knew you.

He sighed down at the roses. They were pretty, but expensive. He could imagine your surprise, followed by your smile—the one that actually lit up your eyes and changed your whole face, made you sweeter, almost shy.

I’m buying flowers for a married woman.

The thought managed to make him pause, with a rough exhale of breath. The truth was, he’d crossed the line with you. More than once.

The hard part about it was, he didn’t really care. He did wonder if you cared.

He wondered if you’d be embarrassed to see him again. He wondered if you wanted to keep last night a memory, and nothing more. He wondered if he was better off booking his train home now, and leaving some kind of note for you with Sam. Dean didn’t think he wanted to see that look of mortification on your face, the whiskey finally cleared from your mind to see what he really was: a man with no job, no commitments, and very little prospects on the horizon.

“Ah, ‘scuse me,” a young man said from Dean’s left side.

“Oh, sorry,” Dean said, making way for the guy. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dean, lithe, blonde, and blue-eyed. He grabbed an arrangement of blue and yellow iris flowers from the case and took it up to the front. The florist seemed to recognize him.

“Oh, Michael! Been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said.

When the florist asked about you as well, the mention of your name rang between Dean’s ears. A feeling like inky claws raked through his chest; he raised his head from the roses and finally recognized Michael Milligan. He was the same man Dean had spotted in your wedding pictures hanging on the wall last night, right in the foyer.

“She’s all right,” Michael chuckled. “Truth be told, I’ve been working late this week. Hoping to surprise her tonight, take her out to dinner. Somewhere nice, you know.” 

“Oh, really? Why don’t you take her to that nice steakhouse off of Broadway…” the florist twittered on as he continued to ring up Michael’s order.

Anger and disgust prickled under Dean’s skin, his fists clenched at his sides. More than anything, he wanted to turn around and lay your husband out flat. If he thought one little bouquet and a Salisbury steak was going to wash him clean, then he was an idiot as well as a selfish bastard.

But Dean knew, deep down, that Michael would be just as justified to throw a swing right back at him.

So Dean left the flowers, the flower shop, and the entire busy street and all its blaring sounds behind.

During your lunch break, you quickly made the trek over to Sam’s office. He’d called you this morning with a story that only confirmed everything you’d inherently felt, and yet, some of it still managed to shock you. 

You didn’t even have the patience to wait until after work, but when you got there, he reassured you. It had taken him a few rounds of poker and discreetly following Michael and Dolores after they exited through the back of the club…but Sam had gotten the evidence not long after. They weren’t exactly discreet in the alley. Or in the nearby motel.

You had the envelope in hand filled with the pictures he’d developed from his camera.  

“You don’t have to look,” he advised. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“No, I want to see it,” you said. You took the pictures out, and your expression didn’t change as you look through them all. Each position captured was more compromising than the next between Michael and Dolores Daye. Apparently, he was paying most of her bills as well with your combined household funds. So part of your own money was financing his exploits.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. He was sincere, with those hazel eyes of his.

You nodded and gave him back the envelope. “What’s next?”

“I went ahead and filed the petition. I’ll take this right to the clerk’s office myself.”

“How long will it take to be over?”

“As long as Michael plays along, should be quick. A few months at most, after he’s served the divorce papers and signs them,” Sam assured.

A few months? That wasn’t quick enough in your book, but you agreed with a nod. You got up from the chair opposite his desk. You hesitated there.

“Oh, I meant to ask…how’s your brother?” you said.

Sam began to smile, but he tempered it. “He just called before you came in. He let me know he was stepping out for a walk.”

“Oh, really? Did he happen to say where?”

You not only found Dean in Central Park, but close to the very same bench you two had sat on yesterday and talked the night away. He was surprised, but he smiled when he saw you. Your pace quickened, until you were hastening over to him. He welcomed you into his arms. He bent his head towards yours, stopping just shy of kissing you. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours for a moment.

“Well, look who’s here?” he teased. “How’d you find me?”

“I stopped by Sam’s office,” you said, holding onto the lapels of his coat. A cold November wind pushed at you both, ruffling your clothes. “The paperwork is on its way. Soon enough, I won’t be a married woman anymore.”

He tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear and smiled, but it didn’t altogether reach his eyes.

“How soon is soon?” he asked.

“A few months, according to your brother.”

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. “That’s good…but, I need to head home for a little while.”

That made you pause, tilting your head in confusion. Though you supposed it made sense. He was only here visiting his brother. He was planning on going home eventually.

But surely, that was before we… You lowered your gaze.

“Back to Lawrence?” you asked. Again, he nodded.

“I need to take care of some things, figure out my next move,” he said.

You pulled away from him to brace yourself, and not just against the cold. “Well, when will you be back?” 

He stayed quiet, worrying you even more. There was a deep pit forming in your stomach, churning with unease.  

“Dean?” you prodded.

He stepped back in to grasp your arms gently.

“Sweetheart…the truth is, I don’t have much to offer you,” he said. “I don’t have a business to inherit from my folks. I don’t even have a job. I’m a man who was about as useful as a jackhammer, until the war ended.”

You frowned, resting a hand against his chest. “Dean Winchester, that’s not all there is to you.”

“Really. When did you figure that one out, in the whole week you’ve known me?” he asked. It was harsher than he meant to be, but he couldn’t help the words that were spilling out of his mouth. “Didn’t that get you in trouble the first time? I’d a thought you would’ve learned your lesson by now.”

You snatched your hand back, hurt filling your eyes. You turned to walk away before he saw your tears. You should have known. You should have known a man like him would never be serious. Not about you. 

As soon as he let the words go, Dean realized what he was doing. Yeah, he was frustrated, but it wasn’t aimed at you. It couldn’t be aimed at you.

God knew he didn’t want to hurt you, or for you to hate him. He really couldn’t stomach either thought, so he relented and reached out to grab at your hand, before you could get too far. 

“Wait,” he said, managing to pull you back to him. “I’m sorry.”

You tugged your hand to try and free yourself from his grasp. 

“You know what, maybe you’re right,” you said, your voice wobbling with anger, dismay, and tears. “Maybe I ought to stop letting a man get even an inch into my heart. At this point, it’s my own fault.”

“Stop,” Dean demanded. “No, it’s not.” 

He pulled you back into him, but you looked away from his imploring gaze. Your breaths grew shallow while you tried in vain to stop yourself from crying. It damn well broke his heart.

“It’s not your fault. I’m just an idiot,” He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears as they fell. “But you…you deserve to be happy. With a man that can take care of you, protect you. A man who has a little more of his life figured out.”

“You’re just saying that so you have an excuse for toying with me. So you can keep chasing skirts,” you said, pushing at his chest. “Yes, your brother told me about all your little exploits.”

Dean took the blow, both proverbial and physical, with a raise of his brows. He guessed he couldn’t blame you for that one. Still, the disdain behind your words stung. He allowed you to break free of him.

You stepped back and straightened your clothes. You took in a deep breath that did nothing to calm you, and you uttered a humorless laugh.

“I suppose it makes sense. Why would you want anything to do with me?” You gestured down at yourself with a dismissive hand. “A-a walking mess. Even when I am divorced, that’s how people will see me. Damaged goods. I don’t even know how I’m gonna tell my parents.”

You covered your face against Dean and the rest of the world, and after weeks and months, you finally allowed yourself the one thing you hadn’t since your first inkling that your husband was being unfaithful. You finally allowed yourself to break.

The first sob shuddered through your body, followed by hot tears. You squeezed your eyes against them and wiped at your face in vain.

Dean broke too, in his own way. He gathered you into his arms, where he shushed you gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“I wasn’t giving you an excuse,” he said.

Despite how much you wanted to push him away, the deep, steady timbre of his voice pierced you and soothed you at the same time.

“I meant every word I said. I may not be the right guy for you, but don’t you dare take a scrap of what anyone else might say, you hear me?” he said firmly. “You’re beautiful. You don’t suffer fools like me, and you’re better than that sad sack excuse of a man deserves.”

You looked up at him with watery eyes.

“You’re a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but you’re not a fool.”

He shook his head, not wanting to argue with you anymore. He just kissed you, deeply, thoroughly, the way you always imagined a kiss should be.

Except that you realized…this was goodbye. So you took advantage of every second of it.

You met him with as much as he gave and reached up to touch his cheek. It felt a little rough under your fingers, just like you remembered. You would probably always remember that feeling, long after you left the park.

That evening, you packed as many bags as you could. You put together the savings you’d been collecting for a few months. It had been at your coworker Jess’s advice, ever since you started feeling the inkling that something wasn’t right in your marriage.

After you were all packed, you took one last, long look at the space you had tried to make your home. With one last tear trailing your cheek, you stepped out of the apartment. You took the bus uptown, where you later checked into a hotel. 

When your husband finally got home from work, he would find a one-page letter written in your own hand. 

For once, Sam was actually home in his apartment. He was helping Dean take his suitcase to the front door after calling a taxi to come shortly. Sam wasn’t happy about it though.

“You don’t have to go so soon, Dean,” said Sam.

Dean gave a humorless laugh. He grabbed his coat from the rack and threw it on.

“I’ve gotta get back to the house. It’s already been empty too long,” he said. Three years too long. “Fact is, I’m just getting in your way here.”

He couldn’t quite meet Sam’s eyes as he went to the door, but Sam stopped him with a pressing hand on his arm, tugging him back.

“Hey,” Sam said, his brows furrowed. “That’s not true. Where’d you get that idea?”

Dean raised his brows. “You mean the way you’ve haven’t been home more than a few hours a night? The way the only time I see you is if I go find you at that office. You should open up a Bed n’ Breakfast there. You’d make a double killing in this town.”

Sam wilted. “Dean, we opened the firm barely a month ago. I’m just trying to—”

Dean laid a hand on his shoulder, relenting.

“Hey, look. I’m not judging you, Sammy. I’m not,” he said. “You’re building something. I know that. I just need to go figure out how to do the same, whatever that means for me.”

Sam stared back at him, still with that frown. His guilt and reluctance to see Dean go was reflected in his eyes; those sad puppy dog eyes that used to get him out of almost any punishment with their parents when the boys were young. Before.

The corner of Dean’s mouth kicked up into a smirk.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon,” he said.

“How soon is soon?” Sam asked. It was something their mother used to say to John whenever he called late, promising he’d come home after long days in town buying supplies for the farm.

“The divorce papers will be served to Michael Milligan,” Sam added, pointedly raising his brows. “She…could use your support.”

Dean’s smile faded at the mention of you. His hand slipped from Sam’s shoulder.

“She’s got a strong head on her shoulders. She’ll be all right,” he said. He heard the honk of the taxi outside. He grabbed up his hat, set it on his head, and took up his bags. He turned back to Sam at the last moment. “I’m sure you’ll look out for her.”

It was somehow both a question, and an imploring charge. Sam sighed, but he nodded in agreement. His brother could be so very stubborn. Once he got an idea of what he thought he needed to do, there was almost no talking him out of it.

Sam opened the door for him and walked him out to the car, helping him with his bags. Before Dean could get into the cab, Sam stopped him. Their gazes met, but in that moment, no words were needed.

They pulled one another into a firm hug.

I’m sorry. I should’ve been there more for you.

Don’t worry about it. It’s already forgotten.

Dean released him first with a smile, and a heavy pat of Sam’s shoulder. He turned and climbed into the cab’s backseat. Afterwards, Sam watched the yellow cab take his brother away to the train station, feeling a weight in his heart that wouldn’t subside.

He would never know that Dean felt exactly the same way. Except that impossible weight felt a lot like your hand, gently laid over his heart.

Dean took up his suitcase as the train pulled into the station. He stepped up onto the platform and retrieved the ticket from his pocket, but he paused, hearing a familiar voice shouting his name.

He turned his head and saw Sam rushing to meet him at the platform.

“What’s the matter? What’re you doing here?” Dean asked in surprise. He didn’t like the wary apprehension written across Sam’s face.

“I just took a closer look at Milligan’s finances,” he said. “Before you go, there’s something you might want to know.”

AN: Come on, we needed at least one cliffhanger in this series! 😘 What do you think Sam rushed over to tell Dean? What did you think about their "goodbye," as well as her and Dean's goodbye? ...And are you ready for all the drama that's about to go down? lol 

Next Time:

Except the loud, insistent knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. Straightening up with a frown, you set down your glass and went over to the door. Maybe it was Housekeeping coming up to bring you the fresh towels you asked for. The ones that had been laid out in the bathroom smelled musty.

You opened the door to a tall frame taking up room in the doorway. It was Michael, standing there both disheveled and steaming mad. He held your letter crumpled in his left hand. 

“Michael, what—what’re you doing here?” you gasped and stepped back. He followed you inside the room and slammed it shut. He looked around at your open suitcases in disbelief, then finally at you.

“What’s this supposed to mean, huh?” he demanded to know. He shook the flimsy piece of paper at you.

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[moonlitcelestial]

Chapter 11

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x OT8 Ateez

W/C 8,491 

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Previous Chapter (Chapter 10)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer.

Contains she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures and the Pinterest boards (which will be updating as the story goes on).

General Warnings: slow burn, cussing, conflict, angst, fluff, and obliviousness. 

CHAPTER WARNINGS - Angst and conflict.

Let me know what you think! <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

You woke up the next morning before your alarm went off. Fucking typical. Taking in your surroundings you felt a warm presence at your back, you turned yourself around to look at Mingi. He was out like a light. His gentle breath was fanning over your face with how close you were. You took your opportunity to study his face. He is absolutely breathtaking. His skin looked so soft in the small amount of artificial light that was filtering through the curtains. He looked so relaxed and at peace. You were half tempted to brush some of his stray fringe away from his face. Just as you were about to do what your intrusive thoughts were telling you to. He made an incoherent noise before mumbling “You know it's rude to stare.” He peeked his eyes open to look at you. Your eyes met his beautiful chocolate brown ones before you realized what was happening. Your brain short circuited. You scooted your head and shoulders back as far as he would let you. He chuckled and squeezed you closer to him, cradling your head and bringing it back to his chest. He tucked you under his chin. 

“We need to get up soon, I think we have about ten to fifteen minutes before my alarm,” you grumbled.

“That’s ten to fifteen minutes I can spend cuddling you to make you feel better. After yesterday I never want to see that side of you again; if we can help it.” you could feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke. That was more soothing than you thought it would be while reading those smutty romance novels. 

“Thank you again for checking on me. I didn’t realize I needed it.” Once you were in that kind mindset typically all you wanted was to be left alone. Your team could pick up on that and that is probably why they hadn't come to check on you. They were very good at respecting the boundaries you had set the first couple of times you got like this. 

“I would do it again in a heartbeat,” he said, kissing your forehead. “You are a part of our family now so you can come to us about anything.” Your heart swelled, this man was the definition of perfection. He knew what you needed to hear and what you needed in general before you even knew yourself. You just laid next to each other basking in the other's warmth for the next few minutes. Your quiet moment was interrupted by your alarm. You had forgotten that you set the alarm to be their song Wake Up. Giggling, you rolled over and turned it off. He grumbled and got up out of the bed after you turned around. You grabbed your glasses and did the same. You stretched your hands over your head and groaned when your back popped like a glowstick. 

“Are those my lyrics?” Mingi asked in surprise. You turned around to look at him. He was already staring at you. You hadn’t even realized that your shirt rode up enough for him to see your lyric tattoo. He walked around to your side of the bed and looked at you with the softest look you had ever seen. His hands were held up to his chest like he was keeping them at bay. “Can I see?” 

You nodded, turned to the side a little, and lifted your shirt just enough for him to see his lyrics in your handwriting. He bent at the waist to peer down at the tattoo and ran the tips of his fingers over it, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You felt a chill go up your spine from how gentle he was being. You fell even harder for the man standing in front of you. 

“Out of all of the things, why did you get this?" he asked in a soft tone; his eyes never left your hip. 

“It's a reminder to myself that I am a strong independent woman. That in the end I will always be with myself even when others leave. That it is just me, myself, and I.” You said quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

“Well, I can assure you it isn't just you anymore. You have all of us. We will always be here and you can't get rid of us that easily.” He spoke looking at you through his eyelashes from where he was bent over. “Whose handwriting is that?” he asked after a moment's pause.  

“It's mine. I took so many tries to get it to where I liked” It had taken you almost an hour orf rewriting the words over and over to finally get it perfect. Aurora had teased you for it later because you did it on the old company's time, but you wouldn't change it for the world.

“Your handwriting is beautiful.” You wanted to respond that he was beautiful, but you held your tongue. You didn't need to add a half asleep confession to your long list of fuckups. 

“Thank you, Mings, all of this means the world to me.” You took a step away from him as he straightened to his full height. “You better keep this secret, I don't need the others to have more ammo to use against me.” You joked, you could see how Hongjoong would let it go to his head already. Something that he helped write and produce being tattooed on someone he knows. Especially because you had this long before you met them. 

“I will do my best, but you know things have a habit of slipping from my mouth without thought.” You laughed. You could feel yourself getting back to normal all because of this man. Today was a new day and you couldn't wait to enjoy it to the fullest. Mingi left after a quick hug and a kiss to your forehead. He promised to not say anything unless given express permission. You were left to your own devices and decided to take a quick shower before going downstairs for a very early breakfast. After doing your body wash shower you slipped on your Sleep Token tee and your basketball shorts. You topped the look off with your black rose Nikes, rings, and a necklace. After about twenty minutes you made your way downstairs and were met with a lobby full of eight very energetic men getting breakfast. You were actually ahead of schedule, which surprised you considering Ateez was involved. 

The moment you stepped off the elevator Wooyoung yelled your name, getting the attention of anyone in the vicinity. You froze and all of their heads whipped to look at you. You caught Mingi's gaze and he smiled widely at you. You had donned a mask and ball cap just in case but you knew that any one of them would recognize you because of the tattoos. You hadn't even realized one of them moved until you were scooped up off of your feet by San. You squeaked and laughed as he spun you around in a circle like he was reuniting with you after months of not seeing you. He set you down and threw an arm around you bringing you to the rest of the boys and crew. Once you got close enough you greeted all of them. Each of them smiled at you warmly, You returned the gesture behind your mask, you knew they would see the wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. They didn’t push for you to sit with them, almost in silent understanding that you needed to check in with your team. You could see your team huddled up at a table toward the back of the breakfast area. You grabbed your food and walked toward your team, you owed them an explanation. Yuhno grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze as you passed him. You squeezed back and continued on your way. 

“Good morning,” you said sitting in the open chair. They all looked up at you as you took your mask off. You could see the relief in their eyes, you knew you worried them. 

“Are you doing better today?” Willow asked, looking at you with curious eyes. She was nursing a cup of coffee with a half eaten waffle on the plate in front of her. 

“Yes, after the conversation in the car about terms of endearment I fell into my old horrid habits. It also upset me that I haven't found the love that you guys have and I am older than the three of you. It made me think about how all of the people have settled and gotten married and have started having kids; hell even my mom remarried. I was just jealous in a sense. I'm sorry about the way I acted yesterday. I know I shut you out and that you were worried, but I didn't know what else to do.”

Aurora reached out to grab your hand on the table. “We are sorry too, we know that is a touchy subject for you and we joked about it at your expense. I want you to know that not dating is not your fault. It is the stupid people that havent seen your worth or have used you for their bigger goals. You are gorgeous and powerful and you deserve all of the love in the world. We want you to realize that you have us and eight very beautiful men that are here for you when times like that strike you do not have to go through that alone.”

“Old habits have a tendency to die hard. I know I still have some that aren't healthy.” Willow solemnly added. 

You smiled at the girls with watery eyes. They were two of the best people you had in your corner. “Actually, my plan to isolate myself didn't work out so well.” You looked over your shoulder at Mingi who had sat facing you. He caught your eyes and smiled before resuming a conversation with Yuhno. All three of them looked at you tilting their heads. 

“What happened?” Forrest finally spoke. His green eyes were trained on you taking every minute expression in. He always tended to stay out of the emotional things within your group but he knew when to step in. Thankfully this time wasn't one of those times.  

“Mingi came to my room and comforted me.” You said as you turned back to the group in front of you. “He knew exactly what I needed without me having to ask. He ended up cuddling me to sleep, and to be completely honest it was the best sleep I have had in a while. I'm not sure if it was because of him or because I wore myself into exhaustion.”

“You don't sleep well even when you are exhausted. It was totally him.” Willow smirked into her coffee. 

“Fuck off, I’m still processing,” you said flipping her off and stabbing the waffle you had in front of you. “I might have come to a realization in the middle of my haze last night before I fell into the old habits, if I tell you you have to act normal.” The three of them nodded at you. You motioned for them to move closer, they did and you took a deep breath. You had to do this before you lost the nerve. 

“I might be in love with them.” Willow choked on her coffee and almost spit it out onto you. Aurora smiled at you and held out a hand to Forrest. He grumbled and pulled out his wallet. You watched them in horror as he handed her a twenty. You felt the heat rush to your face, they bet on you. 

“You fuckers,” you whisper yelled. All of them laughed at you and looked up at something behind you. You felt hands settle themselves on your shoulders. Jumping slightly in your seat you tilted your head up to see Seonghwa. Once you realized it was him you relaxed. He rubbed your shoulders lightly as he spoke.

“We are about to head out to get things started this morning.” You glared at your team. They laughed at you and nodded at your silent request to keep this between the four of you. You tilted your head back to look at him to find him already looking at you. You smiled at him and leaned into his stomach with your head. He widely smiled at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You looked back at your team and they were smiling at the two of you. 

“I need to go grab my backpack but after that I will be ready.” 

“I can go with you up there, I need to grab something too,” Seonghwa said, running his thumbs over the back of your shoulders. 

“Okay, let's get going then, I don't want to hold you guys up.” You stood and his hands slipped from your shoulders. Grabbing your trash from the table you could feel the others watching you intently as you walked over to the trash can. You stuck our tongue out at them before you pulled up your mask and turned the corner out of their sight. You heard a chorus of laughter. Seonghwa was a couple of steps behind you and you could feel his hand at your back as you waited for the elevator. Once it dinged you hit the button and looked at him, when the doors had fully closed you wrapped your arm around him and pulled him into a side hug. 

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“She seems to be in better spirits this morning.” 

“Does that have anything to do with you sneaking out of her room this morning?”

“Maybe, maybe not, I am not at liberty to tell you the specifics.” 

“Okay, I am just happy that whatever you did helped. Not hearing her speak or seeing her smile last night really worried me.”

“She has a control over us that she doesn't even know she has.” 

“We are all so whipped for her and we aren't even in a relationship with her yet.” 

“Hopefully in the near future we can change that fact.”

“Y'know for attempting to whisper you guys are very loud.” 

Every one of the boys jumped at the statement. They looked at your team with sheepish smiles. 

“Can you blame us? We can't get her out of our heads.”

“We know, just a heads up, she is the same way with all of you.” 

The team watched as they all lit up. All of them had the widest smiles on their faces. They were looking between each other and some of them grabbed each other to steady themselves. It was then that your team knew they loved you. 

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“You worried us, I am happy you're back to halfway normal today.” Seonghwa said squeezing your hip.

“You have Mingi to thank for that, he comforted me when I didn't even know that I needed it.” 

“He has always been able to tell if someone needs that kind of comfort. I hate that he had to learn that because of his own issues, but it has made him the amazing person he is today. Him and Yuhno are probably the most experienced of all of us in that aspect. We have had to lean on them a lot, and they would love for you to be comfortable enough to do that with them too.” 

“I know, I just hesitate to let anyone in, even my team. I can however tell you that I am more comfortable with all of you guys than I have been with anyone since my team came together.” 

The elevator dinged and you walked out with Hwa. He let go of you to step to the room next to yours. You must be on the far end of the three rooms they got for your team. You unlocked your room and looked over the state of things that had been flung in your numb state last night. Your clothes were all over the dresser, the bag haphazardly flung on the floor away from it. You looked to see everything plugged in, but some of them were not on the chargers you normally used for them. You saw the camera bag and laptop bag on the desk thankfully you had half a mind to not treat that like shit. You walked over and grabbed your bags, slinging them over each shoulder. 

You reached down to grab your phone and realized that it was exploding with notifications. You opened it to look and noticed an article. Clicking into it you saw some tabloid posted an article of you and your team walking into KQ. The header read, “Could we be seeing a new group from KQ entertainment?” You read through the article and laughed loudly at the absurdity of it. They had snapped several pictures of you and your team carrying things in the building on your first day from weeks ago. The article speculated that you were going to be debuting a secret project with Ateez. This was the most entertaining thing that you had seen. You silenced your notifications and grabbed your smartwatch. putting it on you started back to the door. You stepped into the hallway and saw Seonghwa waiting next to your door. He looked up from his phone and smiled at you. You could tell he was tired. 

“So get this, someone took a picture of my team and is speculating that we are the newest group to join KQ.” you said as a way of greeting. 

His eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“Look at this,” you said, whipping your phone out and going to the article. He scrolled down to read the entirety of the article before letting out a loud laugh. His laughter was contagious and it sent you into another fit of giggles. Both of you were hanging onto each other. You heard the elevator ding and you both straightened up and then looked over to see Hongjoong. He looked at you two curiously like you had lost your minds, noting the silver lining both of your eyes from laughter.

“What's going on with you two? It's been like ten minutes since you disappeared.” You handed him your phone and he scrolled. He chuckled and handed it back to you. “Come on, let's go to the vans. We can discuss this more soon.” 

You nodded and straightened following Hongjoong, Seonghwa a step behind you. You saw Seonghwa reach out to Hongjoong and clasp his hand giving it a squeeze as they smiled at each other. As the elevator dinged Hongjoong brought Seonghwa’s hand up to his mouth to give it a quick kiss. You smiled at them, their simple affection was something you admired about them. It was rare that you saw any of the boys do anything close to PDA because you were almost always in public with them. Either that or they were in front of a camera. In these quiet moments you saw the love they held for each other. 

The elevator dinged and you stepped out first. You were blinded by flashing lights, you shielded your eyes and saw people lined up outside. You turned to Seonghwa and Hongjoong and ushered them back into the elevator. You quickly pushed the button to the next floor up. They looked at you weird as you did so. 

“Someone must have leaked the hotel we are at. There are a shit ton of people out in front of the lobby. I didn't see anyone else so I assume that they are already out in the vehicles or went somewhere more private.” You sighed as you readjusted your bags that shifted with your quick movements. “I have been in this kind of situation before and sadly it never ends well. We will have to find another route out to the cars so we don't get mobbed without your security.” 

The elevator dinged and all of you stayed on while you pushed the button for your floor. Thankfully it was high enough up that people wouldn't be able to see any of the boys. You looked at both of them and Hongjoong looked pissed. If steam could come out of someone’s ears it would definitely be happening right now. “We were told this hotel was safe, specifically because they had security everywhere and it was in a rural location. We were assured that this would not happen. That's why we weren't covered or just staying in our rooms for breakfast. This is fucking ridiculous.” Hwa squeezed his hand and he looked quickly at his lover. His shoulders dropped just slightly. 

You placed a hand on his other bicep squeezing slightly. “We will be okay, I am sure that your managers and security will have this covered. We need to get a hold of someone and have them come get us. I know you must be worried about the others, I am too, but we have to be calm and rational so we can get back.”  

The elevator dinged again and you were met with several pairs of eyes looking at you. There were two people guarding the doors but they stepped aside to let the three of you pass. You took in everyone standing in the hallway, there were three people missing. Forrest, Aurora and Willow. 

“Where is my team?” you asked, stepping off the elevator. Forgetting about the two that were behind you. 

“We got mobbed in the parking lot by sasaengs (a term for an obsessive fan who invades the privacy of idols, I couldn't find a specific name for ateez antis, let me know if you know it), they fell behind and got a little scraped up. They are okay, just shaken up.” A man in the middle of the hallway said not even looking away from his phone. When he did finally look up at you he was looking down his nose at you, like you were just some crazy groupie. He must have been a manager, but in the few weeks you had been here you had never seen this man before, nor had you been treated like this. You already did not like this man, especially because he looked strikingly like your father.

“Excuse me?” You asked, rage was lacing your voice. You saw some of the members tense slightly. In the time they had known you, you had never taken that tone with anyone. They all had the common sense to look a little frightened of you, all except for the man in the middle. 

“That is putting it lightly,” Yuhno scoffed. You looked over to him and he didn't look happy either. He was holding onto Mingi’s waist protectively, Mingi had his back facing you huddled as close to Yuhno’s chest as he could be;  he must have gotten shaken up too. Wooyoung and San were standing next to them with their arms crossed. Yeosang and Jongho were toward the back of the hallway. Jongho was holding Yeosang’s hand while they were speaking in hushed tones. For him to be doing that so openly around people that weren’t your team and the boys must have meant something really bad happened. 

“What actually happened?” You asked, turning back to the person who spoke, you were really trying to give this man the benefit of the doubt. You set both of your bags down gently next to the wall closest to you. He scoffed at you like he did not owe you an explanation. You felt the anger flare. Alright, if this was how he was going to play then game fucking on, “If you do not tell me the truth in the next ten seconds we walk, and you will be responsible for losing a very good asset to the company. I am sure that the CEO would not be very happy. This is a fucking safely hazard for everyone involved and I absolutely will not be putting my team in danger. Especially after the tabloids are posting and assuming we are a new group.” Shock rolled across the faces you could see. You felt Hongjoong and Seonghwa come up behind you. You could only imagine the pissed off looks the both of them supported. The boys looked at the manager and he didn’t speak. Most likely out of fear of the repercussions that he was about to face, or because the boys behind you were equally pissed looking. This man was not going to be the kind to admit what happened, you knew it. If he was anything like your father he would deflect. 

You could feel the eye roll from Yuhno, “After Hongjoong went to get you we were heading to the cars when we got mobbed. Your team got pulled back through security and thrown aside so the sasaengs could get closer to us. One of them grabbed Yeosang and several of them grabbed Mingi and tore up his clothes. Thankfully San and I were close enough to stop it otherwise it would have been worse,” Yuhno spat toward the manager. You looked at him in shock. You looked at Mingi more thoroughly and you could see the small holes in the sleeves of his shirt and the collar was stretched out. You looked at Yeosang who was almost curled in on himself. It felt like all of the air left your lungs. Absolutely the fuck not. You stepped up to the manager and got in his face. He was just taller than Yuhno and Mingi which made it even better when he took a small step back. This was your chance to finally put someone like your father in his place and you would take every opportunity to do so. You pulled the rage from the depths of your soul and looked back at the man.

“We were focused on the boys and not letting them get hurt any further. We couldn't do much for your team after they got yanked back.” the man in front of you said trying to cover his ass. You seethed, this wasn't just about your team anymore, it was about your boys too. 

You could feel the anger seeping from every pore of your body. The heat rises through your back to settle on the nape of your neck. You took another look at the man, he had some small semblance of fear flicker across his face before putting his mask back on. “Do you hear yourself right now?” You practically yelled, “My team aside for the moment. They,” you motioned to the boys standing scattered in the hallway. “should have never gotten hurt in the fucking first place they are the people you are literally paid to protect!” You resisted the urge to grab his face and make him look at the boys. You knew that if you did it would have made things worse. 

“Did you even fucking protect them? Look at how shaken they all are.” You threw your arm out motioning to them again. You watched as he quickly glanced at the boys around him. 

“For fucks sake look at Mingi, do you not see the holes in his sleeves or that his collar is stretched out? It took one glance for me to see that, have you even looked at any of them? Do you not see how terrified Yeosang looks? You spared a glance in his direction and he was watching you with wide eyes. Jongho had a similar look on his face, only he was supporting a small smirk. 

“Do you not have any common fucking sense? You created a bigger opening by letting my team get snatched, and look what fucking happened. What the fuck were you thinking?” you shot rapid fire questions at the man standing in front of you. You had stepped up to him again to get in his face and started poking him in the chest with the end of each question. Each jab into his chest made him take a small step back. He may have been taller than Yuhno but it was your turn to look down your nose at him. You had half a mind to put this man on his ass in front of everyone, to showcase how incompetent he was. 

“This could have been so much fucking worse. You should have done a more thorough investigation of this place. The boys could have gotten seriously hurt. You are really fucking lucky that I am employed by your company and not the other way around otherwise this would have been an entirely different situation. If it were up to me all of your asses would be fired.” you said, shoulder checking him to go to the room you assumed your team was in.

“That was so hot.”

“Now is not the time.”

You walked in to see Forrest standing by the beds. Thankfully he seemed to be okay. You looked at the girls who were sitting on the bed. You gasped as you looked at them. Both of them had scrapes and bruises all over their arms and what you could see of their legs. You walked up to them and took them in further, thankfully everything looked cosmetic.

“We are okay, Y/N. We made it back quick enough that nothing else happened. No thanks to the fucking security guards.” Aurora said with a scoff. 

“They only targeted the women within the group didn't they?” You asked Forrest. He nodded.

“Motherfucker,” you ran a hand through your hair. “If we do not get new accommodations and a new security team we are not participating in the shoot. I am so fucking pissed, this is not okay, if it were up to me all of them would be fucking fired.”

“We know, we heard. You sounded hot.” Forrest said with a chuckle. You looked at him and cracked a smile. He always knew how to lighten the mood. You sat down between the two of them and pulled them into a gentle hug. After a few minutes you heard a light knock on the door Forrest opened the door and Seonghwa and Hongjoong entered. 

“We need a team meeting, can you two get around okay to come to our suite?” Seonghwa asked, looking over the two sitting on the beds. Aurora and Willow nodded as they struggled to stand, you could immediately tell that they were going to be super sore. You followed the couple to their suite, the rest of the boys were scattered around the room. They all winced looking at Aurora and Willow. You gently helped them to sit down on the portion of the couch that the boys had left open. 

“I have spoken with the CEO, in light of the events the current security team has been fired and temporarily the Xikers security team will be escorting us. We will not be continuing the shoot today, it has been postponed until tomorrow. This will put us behind schedule but I don't think any one of us wants to do it after the incident today. We will be moving to another hotel as soon as it is safe to do so. We also want to make sure that everyone is feeling a little better by that time.” Hongjoong said, looking at Aurora and Willow and then back to Yeosang and Mingi. 

“We will also be putting out a statement to help curb the rumors that are going around about your team. Hopefully that will help the insanity that happened today. If not, we discussed the possibility of hiring you guys your own security,” Hongjoong said and then he turned to look at you. “We also wanted to thank you for stepping in and defending us as well as being half way level headed. I don't know if I would have had the same restraint.” 

You snickered at them and said, “that's calm, I have been worse. Generally I am okay, but when it comes down to the people I love and the projects I do it gets personal. I had half a mind to lay him out on his ass, just to prove how horrible at his job he really is.”

“She actually decked a guy for getting too close to me once, she has really leveled out since then," Willow cut in with a chuckle at the memory. He was being far too pushy at a bar and wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

“She has also done the same to someone for calling me and my husband slurs.” Forrest piped up. That one was while you were out and about with all of the couples from your team. He cornered all of you in a mall and while Forrest held back his husband no one thought to do the same for you. You socked him and walked over his body on the ground and left the store. 

“Hey, both instances were absolutely called for and you fucking know it.” you said crossing your arms with a smug smile. “I have lots of surprises up my sleeve.” They all looked at you with wide eyes. 

“Y/N’s anger issues aside,” Seonghwa said with a smile thrown your way. “We are so sorry that this happened, and we sincerely hope it doesn't happen again.  We will be staying here tonight and then leaving tomorrow first thing. They are getting together the security team as we speak but it will take some time.” 

“Okay. As long as we don't leave the floor I don't have an issue with staying. I will warn you, if this happens again, we are going to break the contract. While I enjoy being with you guys I am not willing to put the safety of my team at risk.”

“We understand, and really hope that it doesn't happen again.” Hongjoong responded. 

“I hope so too.” You said looking over to your team. 

“Y/n?” You turned to look at Yeosang, who had seemed to have recovered a little. 

“Yeah Sangie?” You questioned tilting your head in curiosity. The more you looked at him the more you could see how horrified he looked, while he may have recovered a little it was still noticeable in his posture. He was making himself as small as possible against Jongho. He had arms protectively wrapped around himself as if they could shield him from everything. 

“Thank you.” He said in a small voice. Your heart shattered at the look on his face. Before you could think you had walked over to him and squatted in front of him. You took one of his hands away from his arm and settled it in both of yours. You could feel his tremor, it was most likely significantly worse from everything that happened. 

“Yeosang, as long as I am around I will protect you and everyone else in this room with my life. I truly care about all of you. You guys have become a part of my family as I have become a part of yours. We have not known each other for very long but I would not trade this group for the world.”

“You mean that?” He asked you, looking at you with the biggest eyes ever. He looked like a small child. 

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” You said taking a hand away to put on your heart. He let go of your other hand and threw himself off of the couch at you. He knocked you on your butt but you caught him and hugged him back. You could feel the wetness of his tears seep through your top. 

“I was so worried about you from yesterday, and then all of this happened and I was so scared.”

“I'm okay, Yeosangie, I'm right here and I don't plan on going anywhere. You guys have me as long as you will allow. I was worried about you too, as soon as Yuyu said that they got you and that they got Mings I was so pissed. I couldn't stand the thought of any of you getting hurt. You are okay, I am okay, we are all okay.” You stroked his hair as he cuddled into your neck. After a couple of minutes you could feel his breath starting to level out from its erratic pattern. You looked at Jongho who was sitting next to where Yeosang used to be. He nodded at you with a small smile. You smiled back at him and looked at the rest of the men you could see. They were all smiling at you and Yeosang. 

He pulled away from you and looked at you. You cupped his cheeks wiping his tears away. You put your forehead against his and rested there for a minute. You pulled away from him and placed a kiss on his forehead. You got up first and helped him get up and settled back next to Jongho. He curled into him and smiled sweetly at you. 

You looked at Mingi next, he was sitting on a loveseat with Yuhno across the room. Yuhno had an arm round his shoulders and was holding his other hand. He still looked pissed. You slowly approached the both of them. Mingi had changed clothes since the last time you saw him. You could see the tear tracks on his face. As you got closer you held your arms out in a silent question. He looked at Yuhno and separated himself from him to get up. He practically threw himself at you much like Yeosang had. He had curled himself around you and was slouched to fit his head in the crook of your neck. You felt a few tears start to seep into your top. You gently stroked his hair and rubbed his back. 

“I've got you. Everything is going to be okay, I promise. I'm here in silent support if you need me,” you whispered to him. He started sobbing at your words. Yuhno stood up and wrapped the two of you in his embrace. He was to your side closest to where Mingi had rested his head. You heard another couple pairs of footsteps approach you. You turned slightly to see San with Wooyoung trailing shortly behind him. They both wrapped themselves around you and Mingi. San was on the opposite side of Yuhno and Wooyoung had taken up the spot behind Mingi closest to San. Mingi had started to calm just slightly but you could still feel the lingering pent up tension in him. 

“Mingi, we are here. There is no judgment, you can let it all out.” He almost collapsed, his knees had given out. Thankfully you had enough support from the other boys that they slowly helped you lower him to sit on his knees on the ground. You had sat on your knees feeling the twinge from your surgery site but you didn't care. More footsteps approached you and you assumed the rest of the boys were coming over. You felt Seonghwa first, he had come up next to Yuhno. Jongho was directly behind you and pulled you slightly to let you lean some of your weight on him. Yeosang had come up and was between San and Jongho.  Hongjoong was the last to get there, he put himself between Yuhno and Wooyoung. 

You all leaned on each other. You rested your head on Mingi’s. You felt each pair of arms around the pair of you. This smallest part of you relished in this feeling, knowing you most likely would not have something like this again. You felt Mingi’s breath pick up just slightly, he was falling further. You pulled your head away from him, almost knocking into Seonghwa and Yuhno. You gently started running your fingers through Mingi’s hair again making sure to apply a slight pressure to keep him from falling too far. 

“Listen to our hearts and breath Mingi. We are all here, your loves are here, you are protected here with us.” You stopped speaking and reached into your mind to remember some of the ways you pulled yourself out of this state. The first thing that came to mind was the sensory countdown. “I need you to tell me five things you can feel.” it has worked for you, maybe it can help him. 

You heard him attempt to take a deep breath, “I feel your hand in my hair, I feel Wooyoung’s heart against my back, I feel San’s arms around me, I feel Yuhno’s arms too, I feel Hongjoong’s cool rings against the back of my neck.” between each thing he listed his breath stuttered, he was trying to regain some sense of control. 

“Perfect, now I want you to tell me four things you can hear.” 

“I can hear your voice, I can hear your heart, I can hear everyone breathing, I can hear the air conditioner.” You hadn't even heard the small whine emitting from the air conditioner until now. He had caught something you didn't, which was a good sign.

“Good job Mingi, what about three things you can see?” He picked his head up slightly, everyone adjusted to look at him. Some of the boys had let go and were just sitting close. 

“I can see you, I can see Yuhno, I can see Jongho.” You saw his eyes becoming clearer. Tears were still falling but they were nowhere near as quick as before. 

“Perfect sweetheart,” You tucked some of his hair away from his eyes. Cupping his cheeks and slid your thumb across the wet skin trying to get rid of the tears.

“Now two things you can touch.” You watched as his eyes started to clear. He was coming back to you. 

“I can touch your hand and I can touch Sannie’s hand” He reached up and put one of his hands over yours on his face. You smiled at him as he leaned into your touch. You looked down to see San holding his other hand, Mingi had a white knuckled grip on him but he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. You smiled at San and looked back at Mingi. 

“Good, now I know this one is weird, but one thing that you can taste.”

“I can taste my salty tears.” He had looked up at you fully now. His tears had stopped and his breathing had returned to somewhat of a normal level. His eyes were red and his face was puffy. 

“Hi, welcome back to us, I am so proud of you.” You put your forehead against his, he was still leaning heavily on you. Thankfully Jongho had been supporting the two of you. You heard some of the boys get up which made you lose some of the warmth that had started seeping into you. The only ones that were left sitting with Mingi were you, Jongho, and Yuhno. Yuhno got up first and helped Mingi stand. You watched as he supported him, Mingi wobbled as he stood. You scooted away from Jongho and he got up shortly after. You knew you would need a minute to get a good feeling back in your knees so you stayed there. Jongho lingered until you asked him for help. He wrapped his hand around yours and tugged you up with ease. His hands were slightly callused from holding a microphone so often and from playing the guitar. You smiled up at him and squeezed the hand that held yours. He let out a small smile and let go to walk back to his previous spot next to Yeosang.

“So, since the rest of the day has been cancelled, what are we going to do? We can't really leave the floor.” You looked over to Willow. 

“We could have a movie day or a game day, I know Y/n brought her switch!” Aurora chirped. You turned and looked at her with a smile. 

“I like that idea," Mingi said with a hoarse voice. Your heart broke again. You walked over to the small fridge in the kitchenette and grabbed him some water. You brought it back and smiled at him when he thanked you. You might have to ask someone about going to get some throat soothing tea later. 

“Whatever the princess wants, the princess gets," Yuhno said with a pat to Mingi’s shoulder. You could feel the playful eye rolls from all of the rest of the men surrounding you. He was most definitely the one that did most of the spoiling of Mingi. He definitely deserved it after this morning. You had walked back over to your team and sat down in front of Aurora between her knees stretching your legs out. Forrest still seemed to be on edge because he had not sat down. You looked up to him and raised an eyebrow in question.

He sat down beside you between Aurora and Willow and grabbed your hand. “I really did not like how today was handled. I feel like it would have been better if we had you there. Then I know they would have been taken care of.” 

“I understand, we will all go together from now on, they can focus on the boys and we can focus on us and if need be we can focus on them.”

“I almost stepped in to give them a piece of my mind, then I heard you and was relieved. I really did not want to step in or get Asher involved.” He said solemnly. He had a tendency to rise to anger very quickly. He was also just as protective as you, if not more. Generally he always lets you handle most things but if it came down to it he would get involved. Typically it did not end well for both parties if he stepped in. 

“Yknow, Asher might actually come in handy in this situation, maybe he can make some recommendations about a good security team.” You thought back to when you had first seen Asher in action. You first saw him on TV protecting a high level government official while he gave a speech. Forrest tended to watch anything that he could to be able to see his husband; even if he was not remotely interested in what was actually happening. 

“I'll think about talking to him, even if it would be to find us just one other person. Sadly you can't protect all of us.” You smiled at him and squeezed his hand. You knew that he was always stressed about situations like this, especially seeing the aftermath on Asher. 

“Come on, quit chattering and let's watch a movie.” Seonghwa said, turning on the tv. All of the boys collectively meandered over to the large couch as Seonghwa picked a comedy movie. You stayed seated on the floor with Forrest and Wooyoung sat on the other side of you. He grabbed your other hand and started running his thumb over the back of it. 

“I am glad you are feeling better after yesterday. I'm also glad that you handled the situation today; I think Joongie-hyung would have tainted his idol image if he handled it.”

“Like I told Sangie, you guys are my family, I would do anything for you.” He squeezed your hand and rested his head on your shoulder. 

The rest of the day consisted of many snacks, movies and some games. It may have started out absolutely terrible; but when you are surrounded by good company any day can be made better. After several hours and many corny and cringy movies you had finally retired to your room. You did your nightly routine and crawled into bed. Hopefully your body will cooperate with you and let you sleep tonight. 

Once you finally relaxed you started floating between dreams and reality until someone was knocking on your hotel door. You turned to look at the light outside. There wasn't any other than the artificial light of the streetlamps. You kicked the comforter off of you to the foot of the bed and groggily dragged yourself up and to the door. Looking through the peephole was not an option because you were as blind as a bat without your glasses. You unlocked the deadbolt and opened it to squint at whoever it was that disturbed you at this early or rather late hour. Wooyoung and San. They both looked tired but you could tell that they hadn't been able to fall asleep. You stepped aside and let them into the room without a word. They walked past you and made themselves comfortable leaning against the headboard of your bed. You closed and locked the door again before making yourself at home between the two of them. 

“Couldn't sleep?” You yawned. 

“No, we were struggling and figured you might be too, so we came over here cause misery loves company right?” Wooyoung quietly responded with a light chuckle. He had grabbed your hand and started fiddling with your fingers. That was another habit you noticed he picked up like Yuhno. No matter where he was or who he was with he always had to have some kind of contact with someone; and he had gravitated toward you more as the time passed. 

“You are always welcome with me no matter the time.” You murmured looking between the two of them. You had really come to appreciate their quiet support of your absolutely horrendous sleeping schedule.

“We really do appreciate you, noona.” San yawned. You looked over at him right before he laid his head on your shoulder. You could tell the both of them were getting closer to sleep the longer they sat with you. 

“Come on cuddlebugs, let's lay down and all try to get some sleep.” They shifted downward first and once they had stilled you shifted downwards and laid on your back. Wooyoung grabbed the blanket at the foot of the bed and threw it over the three of you while you moved to get situated. Both of them shared a glance before they moved to lay against you, San wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. Wooyoung had thrown his leg over one of yours and cuddled closer to you. You had shifted both of your arms to hold onto their shoulders. Their heads were resting on your chest. You had half a mind to start playing with their hair. They intertwined their fingers together over your stomach. You smiled at the two of them. You knew that they were made for cuddles but you hadn't expected this; maybe a few little things here and there with you, but never something this intimate. 

You could feel their breathing even out. The even rhythm finally allowed your body to be lulled into sleep.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 12 Coming Soon)

Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Thanks for reading! <3 Moonie

Taglist:

@breadedloafs @a-short-ass-disappointment @ateezswonderland @staytinyluv @cherryangel-coke @11glitch11 @neivivenaj @herpoetryprincess @premverse @starryjoong-jeongcheollie @sol3chu

[dogs-with-lightsabers]

tried to draw the Kurusu cat plushies last night and had an actual meltdown yikes

in the meantime: Morgana and Mordred are these cat plushies that Yosuke bought before Akira was born! Morgana looks like kitty Mona still, a tuxedo with blue eyes and and Yosuke’s yellow dancing bandanna! Mordred is orange (probably a tabby but i gotta figure out that pattern), with the bright green eyes and a blue bandanna from when Yosuke was younger!

these plushies still exist in the Kurusu house now, nestled in a cubby in Yosuke’s office/study

(Akira thought it was weird seeing Morgana as a cat, remembering a childhood plushie of the same name and same appearance still sitting in their dad’s office. They didn’t tell him this fact though. Just let their mind wander back to their apartment as they whispered their plan to him and the blondes.)

[batfam-stuff-posts-0]

(Curious because I have 4 (this is my main one but I had a tumblr once before and realized putting all my obsessions in one blog doesn't really work for me))

[saphira-approves]

The Ancient Language and True Names: Some Musings

So as a preface, let’s first recount some of the rules of the Ancient Language we’re told/shown through the books (spoilers through Inheritance):

One cannot lie in the Ancient Language

This doesn’t mean you cannot say something objectively untrue—so long as you believe it is true, you can say it (see: Murtagh tells Eragon at the end of Eldest that they are both sons of Morzan, which Murtagh can do because he doesn’t know about Selena having an affair with Brom)

Magic, however, is a bit trickier—intent can go a long way, but a grammatical or syntactical error can obliterate your intention (see: Eragon tries to bless a child, uses the noun form of “shield” instead of the verb form, accidentally curses the child)

So what am I getting at? Well!

In Inheritance, Eragon and Saphira follow a riddle-prophecy to Doru Araeba, the magic-nuked seat of power of the previous incarnation of the Order of Dragon Riders, and find their way into the magically-hidden fallout shelter with a forgetting spell on it that holds several Eldunarya and dragon eggs protected from the magic nuke blast and hidden from Galbatorix’s reach.

Or, put another way:

Saphira Bjartskular, the first new dragon in a century, the only living female out of five living-or-soon-to-hatch dragons (the others being Glaedr, Shruikan, Thorn, and Fírnen), literally the LAST CHANCE for the existence of HER ENTIRE SPECIES… finds out that she isn’t, actually, the last chance. That dozens, a few hundreds of eggs survived, and statistically at least a few of them have to be more females, and dragons will be fewer than before, certainly, and it will be centuries before they reach their previous numbers, but they won’t be doomed to a drawn-out spiral of inbreeding and decline and eventual, final, end.

And then she forgets.

Temporarily! But the memory is removed, excised for her protection and the protection of that precious maybe-future. Saphira’s view of the world, of herself, of her very place in the world, is completely overthrown… and then she returns to what had been the status quo (admittedly with the souls of several other dragons—but functionally this is just Glaedr, multiplied).

The question I pose is: what happened to Saphira’s true name?

On a broader, more generalized scale, the question really is this: what happens to a true name when the memory of a major name-changing event is altered somehow—either by removing the memory of an event that happened, or implanting a false memory of an event that did not happen, or changing the elements of that memory? What rule of the Ancient Language applies here—belief, or The Words Themselves? Is a true name built on memory? On how life experience physically shapes the brain?

Does Saphira wonder at the giddiness in her chest when she thinks of the Eldunarya, quietly thinking that the instinctive chemical reaction is an overenthusiastic response to ghosts that can advise, but never repopulate?

Would Galbatorix, if the battle had gone differently, have been intrigued by the curious lack of I am the last in Saphira’s true name?

Or would he have seen exactly what he expected to? I am the last—and hope is lost.

[pinkfey]

i don’t know if this is a lord of fortune rook-specific thing or an elf-specific thing but that random lore drop that rook was a tevinter slave was uhhhhh upsetting and disgusting

[ilkkawhat]

so anyway this dream about ilkka, sharing to hopefully give someone a chuckle, first just some random appearances on shows but at one point he was the doctor on doctor who (which, i had a similar dream with george funnily enough) except he wasn't...him. he was peter capaldi. it was like. revealed that he and peter capaldi were the same person.

[ghoul--doodle]

I’m going to beat the shit out of my co workers if they make one more “intrusive thought” or “toruettes” joke

[deelovesbooks]

i had to drive behind a cybertruck for like 50km which i feel entitles me to some sort of psychic damage reparations

[doctorweebmd]

accidentally* brainstormed a very complete outline for chapters 4-8 for eih, which should theoretically take us through Part 1. which is. you know. a godsend or whatever.

*accidentally meaning i was just eating delicious pancakes and the thoughts happened. usually its me crying screaming and shitting myself in front of an empty word document where ideas manifest. this is notably much more pleasant.

[bluehairmisfit]

Help me I have problems