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purplelurkinghini · 3 years ago

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So-

I saw the Batman last night-

I think you know where this is going-

I couldn't stop giggling everytime the Riddler came on screen. And I never giggle, in fact I have a certain dislike for the word giggle, so that was something new for me. Just laying yhere in my seat with a look between disgust and awe; terror and exhilaration.

I felt fear and amazement everytime he did something new, everytime the Riddler laid another piece of the puzzle. I found myself trying to find out the mystery beofre Batman did; trying to see if I could catch this slippery man myself.

A movie hasn't pulled that much emotion from me in years; so I just had to rush to your blog and desperately ask for a snippet of writing.

Just-

The Riddler man...

The Riddler....

"Disgust and awe"? "Terror and exhilaration"? Am I to understand that you were thrilled? Because I was, too! I was so thrilled I got back home at midnight and couldn't sleep for another five hours!

Though you did send this ask a while ago, I hope you're just as thrilled to know I do have something for you! And, though I took some liberty in making assumptions as to what you would enjoy, I didn't assume your gender.

Therefore, since you used the word "snippet," this is more of a lime (M-rated) than a lemon (E-rated), not unlike what G.B. Anon said he enjoyed in his "snippet."

My fellow giggler, under the cut you have a snippet of a Gender Neutral Reader / The Riddler | Edward Nashton story.

CW: dubious consent; minor spoilers for the third act of The Batman (2022)

The Riddler, or, (as he was enrolled in Arkham State Hospital) Edward Nashton, was only supposed to have the one visitor tonight. So, the Batman came, went, and left behind an irritable and inconsolable inmate. And it was that inmate that you made sure you were seen escorting out of the visiting room, but not spotted as you skipped his cell, and the corridor altogether.

"Next one of the left," you lowered your voice, guiding him by his stiff shoulder as the both of you looked forward instead of at each other. "That's the-"

"The emergency staircase. I've studied the schematics." His own voice was low, but also labored after the screaming-match he had with his visitor.

If all had gone according to plan, you'd be sneaking the both of them up the stairs and onto the roof where the three of you would've had the best view of tonight's fire and waterworks. But, seeing as the Batman didn't want front-row seats to Judgement Day, you had the Riddler all to yourself. Even if it'll only be for how long it takes your colleagues from security to notice his empty cell, you'll enjoy every second spent alongside Gotham's savior.

The night was as dark as it usually gets before a new dawn. When the bombs go off and bring down the seawall, being atop of Arkham will be like sailing atop of the world. And that's where you bought the Riddler, your idol, to worship. And that's where you, his humble servant, made your offering.

You unshackle him after as you lock the door they'll soon be barging down. Because they will come for him, and they will take him away from you, but not before he gets to look upon his work. And not before he gets his offering.

He drinks in the cold air like a refreshing glass, rubbing at his wounded wrists so fast they might catch fire. "I was right about the view, wasn't I? Best seat in this whole God-forsaken place."

You followed him as he nearned the edge, as he released his own hands and stretched out his arms, letting it all sink in. "How long until the sea washes out all the sinner?"

"Three minutes, sir," you step beside him and stop before searching the inner pocket of your jacket. "There's still time to prepare for the purge." Then, as you take out the cold winter mask you purchased for yourself, you offer it to him. "I thought you might want it. It's not yours, but..."

"No, it's not," he accepted your gift, but not before taking off his specs. "But we'll make do."

As soon as he secured the straps, he slipped it on and sighed as if he was finally free of whatever kept him chained before. He huffed, his chest puffed, his shoulders rolled back and so did his head. And he breathed in deep, taking in all the air around you and storing them in his lungs.

When he slipped his glasses back on, his eyes were blown behind the lenses, filled with the darkness of night itself that he seemed to inhale through the mask. And, when he exhaled it through the flap covering his mouth, you found that the chill of the night had made it down your spine:

"It's chilly out here," the Riddler chuckled casually, more comfortable in his own skin now that it was covered. Then, as he slipped a hand into your open jacket and the other through the hair at the nape of your neck, he snatched you from your place and slammed your back against his chest.

"You should've dressed for the weather," he heaved in your ear. "Now it's got you shivering," he pressed the heated mouthpiece against your lobe, making you shiver once more. "The purge I'll unleash is bound to warm you right up," he continued to breathe, loudly and proudly, into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, now exposed with the zipper down. "Are you ready?"

You were already getting hot under the collar, his words in your blushing ear, and the material of his mask pushing against your prickling skin. His cold hands fondling your fluttering stomach didn't put out the fire he ignited within you all those months ago when he set your online community aflame with righteous wrath and passionate promises.

You were itching for a real change. You were praying for this purge. And, as he cackled behind the constraints of the mask, and he coiled his arm around your middle like a slithery snake, you were burning for him.

"Yes, sir" you sighed, slacking against him as soon as the timer on your phone went off. "Yes, sir, I'm ready." You clutch onto the arm holding you up, supporting yourself. "Give them hell."

"One, two, three." the Riddler whispered, winding you up. "Boom." And, as he slipped the word into your ear, so silently only your body could feel its scorch, the first bomb went off.

"Yes," you whimpered, wiggling in his hold, but not freeing yourself or even attempting to do so.

"Boom," he commanded, lounder this time and in the direction of the next bomb.

"More," you whined, grinding back against his body as he giggled - a godly gleeful sound - into the night.

"BOOM," he picked you off the ground and spun you around as he shouted it to the skies.

As he set you back down, you felt higher than ever before. Stumbling on your feet, you found that he had freed you only to return to the edge. Then, as he looked down upon his work, arms stretched out like a conductor's, he yelled out "boom" and burst into a fit of laughter only a God would get away with. And only a God wouldn't fall off the roof and into his own flood.

Before you could run to his side and share in the glory, he commanded you to come closer. "The Day of Judgement," he heaved, arms still outstretched. "Is here."

And, before you could throw yourself at his feet, and thank him properly, he snatched you by the nape of your neck again and forced you to your knees himself. "And so are your friends from Security."

You tried to look over your shoulder, but each of his hands pushed against both of them and pressed you down. The cold night air got knocked out of you and so did any common sense as he straddled you, trapping your arms against your body with his knees.

"We can't let them know you had a part to play in my plan, now, can we?" He looked down upon you, satisfied to make you shiver again after making the seawall burn. "Scream a little, wiggle a lot, beg some more," he sunk his nails into your shoulders and got at least one of those reactions out of you. "And pretend you're not getting off this."

You obeyed and kicked your feet into the air as your Arkham colleagues came running through the door. And you obeyed the Riddler even as your screaming was coming from a place of worship and not of fear.

#Riddler #Riddler x Reader #Edward Nashton #Edward Nashton x Reader #The Batman (2022)#The Batman #Ask #Anonymous

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dothwrites · 4 years ago

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spn15 spec, destiel, post 15.18, mcd?? sort of???

---

And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend.--Antoine de-Saint Exupery, The Little Prince

---

Castiel opens his eyes in nothingness.

It’s not dark, though the air which presses around him is thick onyx. There is neither gravity nor weightlessness here. Castiel exists but he does so in a void so barren that he doubts his own mind. He opens his mouth to call out, but no sound escapes.

Castiel exists in ignorance for one, glorious moment. Then the weight of memory crushes into him. His chest buckles underneath the pressure. He tries to scream, but the vast emptiness swallows the sound.

---

“Cas, we can fight this!”

Dean, his Righteous Man, Dean, the shining beacon, his friend...The first real friend he’d ever made. Dean is ready to fight. Dean would fight God, has indeed fought God. But he can’t fight this.

The door shudders in its frame. Blow after blow rains down on the weakening wood. Already, the wood is splintering under the assault. The thin strip of light at the bottom of the door disappears underneath a sea of writhing black. The Empty is here. It wants what it was promised.

“Dean,” he says. He intends to say much more--It’s too late, let me go, thank you--but his voice cracks on the single syllable of Dean’s name.

He wants to stay. God help him, but he wants to stay.

“No, dammit Cas! You don’t get to give up! We can fight this thing, we can keep running, we can...” Dean’s voice trails off into nothing as he looks wildly around the small room.

Though he might protest, Castiel knows that Dean is a man bailing out a sinking ship. In his heart, Dean knows the battle is already lost. But he’s still defiant, still clinging to the faintest shred of hope.

Castiel loves him for that.

“You fought for the whole world.” Castiel’s voice is weak and pale against the ear-shattering thunder of the Empty’s attempts to break into the room.

“Cas, no--”

“But you can’t fight for me.”

The words shatter something vital in him. Castiel gasps as the agony shreds through him. He thought there would be more time. He thought that happiness was an ideal that no one could ever reach. He thought there would be time, he doesn’t want to go, he wants to stay--

“Cas, I can’t...Not again, I can’t lose you again, please don’t go--”

Black seeps into the room, slender tendrils snaking across the room towards where they stand. Castiel feels every second ticking away. He’s lived for millennia, seen worlds and empires rise and fall, felt the passing of centuries like nothing more than a passing breeze. Millions of years, and now, when it means everything, he has no time.

Castiel cups Dean’s cheek with one shaking hand. If this is it, then he doesn’t want to leave with any regrets. “Dean,” he croaks. That word has become his compass, his prayer, the star to which he hitched his wagon.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want to leave you. If I had a choice, i would stay. I would stay with you through every sunrise and sunset, through every moment, the mundane and extraordinary alike.” Castiel’s voice catches in his throat as the door finally shatters and darkness pours into the room.

“You’ve taught me everything, Dean, and I...I’m so grateful that I got to know you. Without you...”

Castiel can’t continue. He’s immeasurably grateful for all he’s experienced with Dean, but he’s always been greedy. He wants more. He wants to see Dean’s hair continue to silver until it’s soft and grey. He wants to go fishing with Dean and discover the peace inherent in the activity. He wants to watch Jack grow into his own and Sam start a family. He wants, with a fierceness that takes his breath away.

Darkness curls around his ankle and winds its way up his calf.

Dean shakes his head. Tears well in his eyes but refuse to spill over, though his lower lip shakes. “Please,” he asks, tilting his head into Castiel’s palm. “I can’t...how am I supposed to do this without you?”

Castiel starts to respond, but his voice is cut off by the swift, hard press of Dean’s lips into his. His heart jolts and gutters in his chest before it picks up again, beating so hard he thinks it might escape through the confines of his ribs.

“I love you.”

The words tumble out of Castiel’s mouth, the same as they did years ago when he was rotting from in the inside out. The same frantic need consumes him now as it did then, when every beat of his heart dragged him closer to the edge of oblivion, when seconds were more precious than gold, when he was so close to losing everything--

Dean sobs. He clutches the lapels of Castiel’s coat and kisses him, teeth bruising behind his lips.

Castiel’s whole lower body is engulfed in darkness so complete that it feels as though it’s ceased to exist. His whimper is lost in Dean’s mouth.

“No,” Dean gasps, pulling away. Castiel already knows the cause of Dean’s denial. He can feel it, creeping up his chest and shoulders, slithering down to his arms. He remembers how it was to be devoured, remembers the noxious black ooze of the Leviathan crawling through him, but this is worse, is so much worse, because now he knows what Dean’s lips taste like, now he knows everything he has to lose--

“Cas, I love you,” Dean tells him, though his words echo strangely. The Empty crawls up his throat. Castiel chokes on it, but he doesn’t dare to blink. He can’t lose a second of this, of Dean’s face, horrified and tear-stricken though it is.

Seconds tick away like centuries, Dean’s face in front of him. Castiel can’t hear what he’s saying, but he can see the words shaped on his lips.

I’ll find you, I promise, I’m coming for you, Cas, Cas, I love--

And then.

Empty.

---

With the image of Dean’s face in his mind, Castiel screams.

There is no sound in the Empty, but he screams anyway. His agony and loss pour out of him, his grief and fear. Everything that he’s lost, Dean--

Castiel screams until his voice cracks and breaks, until his throat is shredded and raw, until he tastes blood in the back of his throat.

Hollow, he slumps to the side, curling into himself. His one consolation was that he would at least be asleep for the rest of eternity. He wouldn’t have to live with the weight of everything he’d lost. Now, even that slender comfort has been ripped from him. For the rest of time, he’ll have to exist with the memory of Dean’s glassy eyes, with the sound of Dean’s choked voice echoing through his skull, with the phantom ache of Dean’s lips against his. Castiel shudders, sobs ripping out of his throat.

“Jesus. So much for helping.”

Castiel blinks. The sound of another voice is foreign in this void where nothing should exist. He rolls over, looking up at the sardonic face staring down at him.

“Ruby,” he rasps, then remembers himself.

That’s not Ruby.

“Go away,” he mutters. He wraps his arms around his legs, pressing his forehead to his knees. There’s no point in having pride here, not when time is meaningless and every second is a torture. The Empty already knows his secrets, though why it chose Ruby’s form to torment him is a mystery.

“Look feathers, you were the one who screwed the pooch on this whole ‘fixing eternity’ thing. So I think I’m going to stick around for a bit.”

“There’s no point,” Castiel says miserably. “You got what you wanted. I’m here. I’m suffering. What more could you possibly want from me?”

“Were you dropped on your halo? I told you what I wanted the last time you were here. I want out, you moron. I told you to find a way out, and you wound up here, which is kind of the opposite of what I asked.”

Castiel blinks slowly, lifting his forehead from his knees. “Ruby?” he asks.

Ruby rolls her eyes and sighs for dramatic effect. “Yeah, dumbo. You know, I’ve only been trying to tell you that since the beginning.”

“I can’t trust that.” Castiel remembers all too well the last time he was here, the jolt of pleasure at seeing Meg once more only to realize that the Empty was aping her appearance to hurt him. “The Empty, it takes on your visage, your memories--”

“Yeah, you’re just going to have to trust me on this.” Ruby’s eyes flash black. “You know, as much as you can.”

“I’d pay attention to her, Clarence. If you don’t, then she’ll probably kick your ass.”

Castiel knows that voice. He whirls around. Meg’s face greets him, a tiny smirk twisting her lips upward. “Meg,” he whispers, an odd combination of grief and happiness twisting in his chest.

“The one and only,” she assures him.

A small shred of doubt clings at the back of Castiel’s mind, but he has to trust in something right now. Even if it’s two dead demons.

“Castiel. So lovely to see you again. Though I can’t say that I agree with the company you’re keeping these days.”

Make that three dead demons.

“Crowley,” Castiel breathes.

The demon looks exactly the same as he did the day he died. His suit is pristine, down to the pocket square. He looks at Meg and Ruby with disdain before he turns that expression on Castiel. “I suppose you’re doing your biannual visit to this dump? Feel like taking any passengers out with you when you make your escape this time?”

“I’m not...I made a deal,” Castiel whispers. He made a deal to save his son and he’ll never regret that, not for a second, but then he thinks of Dean’s face. “I’m not leaving.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so negative, Cassie. You do have a way of wriggling out of the tightest of places.”

Mingled guilt and joy sear through Castiel as he turns around. Balthazar’s familiar face looks at him. Balthazar raises an eyebrow. “No hug?” he asks.

“I don’t understand,” Castiel breathes. Surrounded by ghosts from his past, he feels weak. “None of you should be awake. That’s the whole point of this place. All of us, asleep, forever.”

“That’s the way it should be, but you have a habit of wrecking the natural order.” Castiel winces at Anna’s cool voice. Though there’s no real judgement in her voice, there’s also no real warmth. “It’s been changing here, ever since your last visit.”

“I woke it up.”

“And because you woke it up, we all started to awake as well.” Hannah’s calm voice joins their small group, though it’s growing steadily larger. “All of us, demons and angels, started awaking. At first, it was just for moments, but lately, it’s been distracted. More of us have been able to stay awake for longer. Eventually we started finding each other.”

“That’s my boy,” Meg says, unmistakable fondness in her voice. “Shaking up the natural order, wrecking the whole of the afterlife.”

Castiel’s eyes dart between all of them, former enemies, allies, and friends. “Is this all of you?”

“Were you not listening? Did they not just tell you that we’ve all been waking up, at least a little bit?”

Gabriel pops into existence next to Castiel. Despite himself, Castiel jerks back in surprise.

“So, what’s it going to be, Cas? Are you going to just pop out of here like always?” Crowley brings Castiel’s brain back to the present.

When he made his deal, he made it with full awareness that there was no coming back. He accepted that burden because he knew it was the only way he could save Jack.

But that was before he felt Dean’s lips against his, before he heard the words fall from Dean’s mouth. I love you.

When he made the deal, he had never heard those words directed at him. When he made the deal, he had nothing to fight for.

Now he does.

He made a choice long ago. You don’t have to be ruled by Fate. You can choose freedom.

Castiel looks at all of them, demons and angels alike, and makes a choice.

“We’ve got work to do.”

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littlemisssquiggles · 4 years ago

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The Fall of RWBY

“Let’s try the quick version…can you make a bunch of doorways in Atlas that open at a single spot in Vacuo?”

“Sure. I’ll just need coordinates and specs for each door, an explanation for bending space and time to account for much greater traffic on one side and a single point of exit on the other.”

“Okay. That’s about what we expected. So we need to funnel everybody through a central location first.”

“You’re gonna have to tell me more about this central location. For starters, uh…where is it?”

“Here. A place like these vaults. Wherever they are, they’re not a part of Remnant. Only accessible if you know the right way in. Seems like a safe enough place for thousands of refugees.”

“You kids are either smart or much more foolish than you realize…”

“... A place like these vaults. Wherever they are, they’re not a part of Remnant. Only accessible if you know the right way in...”

I have a curious question or rather…a curious thought. If the worlds inside of the vaults do not exist anywhere in Remnant, as affirmed by Yang in today’s episode then where exactly does this Other World inside the vault exists?

We know from the Lost Fable episode that Remnant was merely an experiment by the Brother Gods before they “left” Remnant. We also know from the Lost Fable that the Relics when brought together are the key to summoning the Gods back to Remnant for humanity to face Judgement Day.

My question is…summoning the Gods from where exactly? Where exactly did the Brother Gods go after they left Remnant? I know in the RWBY Fairytales from Remnant novel, it was hinted in the Two Brothers tale that the Gods never truly left Remnant and have actually been sleeping in wait until the day they would be awakened to rise up and judge the world they created and left to itself in their absence.

An exert from the Two Brother fairytale:

Finally, the God of Light call a truce. “Look around, Brother. We are tearing the world apart.”

“Let it burn,” the God of Darkness said.

“We are making people miserable and interfering in Humanity’s divine destiny,” the God of Light said. “Perhaps it is time we leave the world in their hands and see what they make of it.”

“Yes. Let us leave and go our separate ways at last,” the God of Darkness agreed.

But just as the two brothers were closely linked to each other, they were also closely tied to the world and their creations, most of all Humanity. In the act of creation, they had become less than they had been. They had given too much of themselves to be able to leave.

“We must take back our gifts,” the God of Darkness said. “Reclaim our power and wipe this experiment from existence.”

“I disagree,” the God of Light said. “And we promised to share in the fate of our joint creation.” He gave a might yawn. “Let us rest, and when the time comes, we will see what Humanity has become in our absence.

…The two brothers agreed. But even in rest, they needed some distance from each other. Each dragon transformed himself into a new continent at one end of their world. And there, the dragons still sleep, until the day that the gods will waken, rise and judge…”

Keeping that thought in mind, I think it might be a safe assumption to say that the Gods are still on Remnant. I’d like to believe that the allusion of the Gods transforming themselves into continents at the opposites ends of Remnant is true since anyone who has ever peaked at a map of Remnant can clearly see the two dragons on the map.

One of the two dragons---which is I believe to be the God of Light---is represented by the continent of Anima where the Kingdom of Mistral and the City of Argus are located. While the second continent is the unknown one that has no name but exists opposite from Anima while Sanus (where the Kingdoms of Vale and Vacuo are located) rests between them.

I guess, in a nutshell, the point I’m trying to make here is a theory I have for the finale of V8. I can’t shake Ambrosius’ warning to RWBY and Penny in the Vault of the Winter Maiden.

“People enter from Atlas and Mantle on one side and leave on the other side with one way ticket to Vacuo.”

“Well everything seems to be in order. You were quite thorough. Disappointingly so.”

“So…it’s done.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh and one last point of clarification about this central location of yours. Do not fall. Okay and with that dire warning.”

He told them not to fall within the central zone and as we know, the central zone is an unknown world that, much like the worlds within the vaults, does not exist anywhere in Remnant but is connected to Remnant courtesy of Relics.

So my hunch is that at some point during finale, either RWBY will end up trapped in the Other World or rather…it will just be Ruby Rose who ends up falling and becoming trapped in the Other World and the only way to save her rests on ALPN and the discovery of the remaining two relics and vaults.

As we saw back in V6, as soon as the Relic of Knowledge was removed from its respective vault, the world that existed around it disappeared thus rendering the vault null and void. Thus, I think the same will happen with the Vault of the Winter Maiden. Now that RWBY_P have retrieved the Staff, the world within the vault will collapse and no longer exist thus tethering the vault’s connection to Remnant.

This will leave the vaults of the Summer and Fall Maidens remaining. However, since during V8, Tyrian and Mercury Black were seen heading toward Vacuo with an army of Grimm, my assumption is that Vacuo’s vault will become compromised by Salem’s forces.

Not to mention that we still don’t the true whereabouts of the Relic of Choice since according to Salem, that is the only vault that has yet to be found by her forces and not even Oscar knows about that one since that secret is one that Ozma would hold onto longer according to Salem. Not to mention that it was also stated by Oz back in V5 that he made it difficult for the Vault of the Fall Maiden to be found.

Nevertheless, I do believe that something major will happen to either one or all of Team RWBY. I think our heroes will end up trapped in the same world that housed the Relics and thus, their only way out is to traverse this mysterious Other World and find the location of the vaults on its end while their comrades look for a way to open the remaining vaults to bring their comrades back to Remnant on the other side.

Meaning that if someone were to become trapped in such world, they’d probably have to travel to wherever another vault is located and try to get out from that door way, granted that the Relic within that vault isn’t removed since it may seem that the Relics and the vaults are the only thing connecting Remnant to whatever mysterious world is inside of the vaults.

This is why I’m questioning what the world within the vault is. I was always of the opinion that the environments the relics were found in were just a construct of magic after the King of Vale originally built the vaults and the huntsmen academies. Now I’m starting to wonder if the Vaults probably existed long before the King of Vale and he just built the academies around the original doorways to the Other World the Relics were housed in; if that makes any sense.

Either way, I’m not taking Ambrosius’ warning too lightly. Something big is going to happen to one or more of our core heroes. I have a feeling that it’s going to be Team RWBY who end up falling inside of the central zone and becoming trapped in the Unknown World.

At the end of today’s episode, when Penny asked “What now?”; Ruby’s response was “We go to Vacuo. All of us and hope that we thought of everything.”

Obviously this is not going to be the case since our heroes didn’t account for Cinder Fall arriving to foil their plans. So naturally I’m expecting Cinder to finally make her play as the final big boss of this season and do something drastic to prevent all of our heroes from making it to Vacuo.

Given the allusions in today’s episode, my guess is Team RWBY will not make it Vacuo. They will all end up falling and ending up trapped in the Unknown World with no way out and no real way of returning to Remnant…or so it may seem. That’s my assumption.

Whether I’m correct or not, I’ll have to wait and see from the show.

~ LittleMissSquiggles (2021)

#rwby #ruby rose #oscar pine #rwby theories #rwby volume 8 spoilers #rwby volume 8 theories #rwby remarks

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turtletimewriting · 4 years ago

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Bonding

Summary: A soulmate au’s perspective on tickling!

Note: A tickle fic if you couldn’t guess! Also, still somewhat new to writing for Sanders Sides so prepare for some shoddiness haha!

_._._

Virgil woke up feeling his chest almost glowing with emotion. A warmth that settled in front of his ribs that made his eyes flutter open and a smile naturally curl on to his face. The quiet warmth tried its hardest to lull him into sleep again but his slowly wakening mind was starting to ask questions. What were the others doing that meant they was radiating with happiness?

He had stumbled upon his soulmates just a little under sixth months ago. Tracking down soulmates had always felt like an impossible task. Hell, it took years before he even realised that he had three of them! Feeling their emotions obviously doesn’t make them easy to find- he could be having the happiest day of his life but that wouldn’t mean he’d be dancing down the streets or smiling proudly. He had found Patton first. He suspected him when they were partnered together for a project at work. The sinking heavy feeling in his chest to the rapid glow of excitement matched Patton’s expression when the project was announced and then when he realised that Virgil was his partner. Thankfully, Patton had found his other soulmates and so saved Virgil the heart attacks of trying to find the others.

Virgil slowly and quietly crept out of their guest bedroom and peered through the stairs. He wasn’t surprised by the sight of them all piled on top of each other, like a bunch of spilt over kittens, it was a familiar sight. The surprise was the frantic laughter.

Logan’s laugh was distinct. It was somehow both squeaky but also bellowing loud. Like he was throwing his whole self into his laugh. Roman was laying across him and was giving him the most sickening love sick eyes to his upturned laughing face. Roman’s hands were squeezing his sides leisurely, squeezing followed by quick poking. Patton was lying underneath Logan but his hands still had access to his armpits and occasionally his neck.

“Rohohoho-Romaaaaanahahaha!” He uselessly cried out but his flailing hands never seemed to push Roman away. Patton never even faced any opposition. He was free to tickle away at whatever was free to him.

“What, Specs? I’m right here! No need to yell, what do you want?”

“I bet he needs some more tickles! Look! He’s not even blushing that much, he definitely needs some more tickly tickly tickles!” Patton squeaked with his own giggles escaping.

“No no nahaa! Hahahaha, tickleeeeehehehehahahaha!”

“So what’s going on here?” Virgil smirked as he dramatically leaned over the stair banister as he menacingly tapped his fingers. He couldn’t help but huff a laugh when all three heads immediately whipped round to face him.

That laugh quickly died though when he felt that warmth in his chest freeze over. It was now sharp and settled into a dull ache. Three sets of dread, fear and worry.

“Woah, wait. I didn't interrupt anything did I?”

“No! We just didn't expect you to be up yet,” Patton chuckled as he looked over at the others.

“Yeah! You’re up! Like, before ten o’ clock? I’m honestly impressed!” Roman gasped as he flounced off the sofa and approached him. “What’s the special occasion? Big plans for the day?”

“Roman,” Logan warned as he sat back up while scrubbing at his mused up hair. His face burned red already but he felt extra squirmy at the thought to having this conversation without any planning or prep. They were going to have this conversation at some point! When Logan had carefully constructed a script! But he had to do it now. He could feel Virgil’s anxiety. The familiar burn had erupted into an all consuming fire. If they tried to hide this away then Virgil would only just spiral.

All this worry caused by tickling. This was just illogical.

“Virgil, don’t worry. I... have a particular fondness for t-tic... tickling. For some unknown reason!” Logan grimaced as he spoke, that was immediately unclear, unspecific and defensive. His mind scrambled for more words before reviewing them, “But, Patton and Roman also revealed that they shared this fondness and so it’s been present within our relationship for a while,”

“Oh,” Virgil hummed with a sickly sweet tone. His own thoughts racing with a small glow of anticipating excitement.

“We didn’t hide it from you for any reason! We just know that some people can find this weird... We know you wanted to go slow,” Patton smiled as he stood up and walked up to Virgil. He gently held his hands.

“You all shouldn’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry that you felt the need to hide that! You shouldn’t have to hide parts of yo-”

“No! Virgil, none of us are wording this adequately. We were embarrassed, yes. And that’s why we hid this. Not because we didn’t trust you or because you gave us reason not to. This is a problem on us. Not you.”

“Ok. Ok, thanks for telling me that. Even though I kinda just walked into it. I-I don’t have a problem with... that.” Virgil hinted.

The room seemed to stop as they all took a deeper breath. Virgil’s fiery intense anxiety settled back into a smaller burn like normal. The others’ emotions had settled back into a normal neutral presence.

“So... does this mean you want to help us tickle Logan to pieces?” Roman cheered.

Logan squeaked but sat still as Virgil rigidly sat down beside him. He slowly reached his hands out as if Logan was going to flinch away but seeing no complaints... Virgil broke out into an evil smirk.

That same rigid worry wasn’t present at all the second his hands reached his ribs. Logan didn’t have much time to think about that though as Roman quickly followed his lead. Virgil skittering all over his ribs and Roman’s squeezing thigh tickles only felt all the worse when Patton’s whispered teases joined the lot.

After thoroughly tickling Logan to pieces, the others got up to finally start breakfast while Logan was left frantically giggling on the sofa. The others were practically glowing with the brand new intense warmth and happiness nestling in their chests. “So is Logan the only lee?” Virgil asked as he finally sat down at the table.

“Oh, I think we all tend to switch,” Roman responded without too much thought but the other two had frozen in their tasks.

“Wait, you know what a lee is!” Patton squealed. Logan himself was standing with his own powerful evil smirk. Virgil was now frozen himself. He wanted to hint at just how fine he was with their... fondness. But he never wanted to outright say it!

“Uh...”

“Unless you absolutely don’t want this, I would encourage you to flee,” Logan smirked before running up to the table.

“Too late!” Roman cheered as he caught Virgil round his middle before he could even flee from the table. His immediately curled his fingers into his sides. Smiling wider when Virgil’s excited anticipation blossom in chest. Excitement! Logan leaned down at them and tauntingly raised his wiggling fingers to Virgil’s tummy.

Once they touched down, Virgil tried his best to school his expression into something resembling nonchalance. But... it had been awhile since he was last tickled and he had forgotten what it felt like. He immediately squealed and so the dam broke instantly. Logan’s fingers danced gracefully over his tummy leaving trails of tickly tingles. It felt like the longer he tickled, the more tickles Virgil had to just take.

“Logaahahahaha! Ahahehehehaahaha! Rohohoahahahaha!” Virgil simply folded in half as if that would protect his tickly tummy but Roman kept him balanced upright.

“Aww Virgie-poo! Are you a little lee yourself? A little tickle craving lee! Oh, if only we knew earlier! You deserve all the tickles you can take! All of the tickly tickly tickles! Soft tickles, hard tickles, feather tickles, tummy tickles...” Patton cooed from the kitchen while keeping an eye on the eggs. What, someone has to be responsible and make breakfast!

Virgil had yet to put on his make up and so his blush was on full display. His rarely heard laugh rang and echoed through the house. But his laughter had a wheezy quality. Plus, he was barely awake as it was. They couldn’t really tickle him for long.

“How about this! If you admit where you fit into the tickle community, we’ll free you!” Roman cooed as he pulled Virgil into his lap as he sat down himself. Logan caught on and slowed his tickling down to simple tracing around his belly button through his pyjama shirt. Like he was playing a silent game of round and round the garden.

“Eheheheeeee! Noooooo!” Virgil now started to flail but he knew that no judgement would come from his newly revealed switch boyfriends, “Ehehahahaha, I’mmmahehehehe a leeeee I think hehehehe!”

And it was since that morning that their relationship evolved to be a lot more tickly.

The switch comment Roman had made was quickly debunked. Patton and Logan were typically the lers of the household with Roman and Virgil lees for most of the time. Logan and Patton were both comfortably switches but they were more often than not the ticklers thanks to how tickle hungry Roman and Virgil typically were. Not that Virgil and Roman didn’t get their fair share of revenge! But... it was usually them who would start not so obviously hinting for tickles.

But their soul link and their new tickling was going to drive Virgil insane.

If he felt his chest explode in playful dancing warmth then he knew that he should run and hide. That special feeling belonged to Patton alone. For when he was in the most evil tickle monster mode. Any time he felt that emotion, it would soon be followed by someone’s frantic bursting laughter. Sometimes it lingered until Patton would give in and hunt someone. Sometimes it would erupt suddenly. Like if he saw Virgil standing on his tip toes with his arms outstretched to reach the highest cupboard. Or if he saw Logan sitting with his feet resting on the coffee table which no one was allowed to have their feet on. Both times, neither one could react to the emotion quick enough before they felt the tickle attack.

He was walking home while failing to hide his wobbly smiley. That same playfulness had been shining for the past half an hour. And none of the others were home.

Meaning Virgil was walking home to a frustrated Ler who’s been wanting to tickle someone for the past half an hour...

And Patton famously preferred to tickle Virgil.

Even just that soul link emotion was enough to have Virgil practically giggling down the streets. That feeling was becoming worse than any whispered tickly teases. He couldn’t school his expression so this was made all the worse because that meant Patton and the others could also feel that Virgil was in a lee mood. Virgil’s excited anticipating lee moods felt like a mix between his anxious burn and the most joyous warmth. The others were all smiling knowing that his lee mood started shortly after Patton’s ler mood started.

Patton had harnessed all the patience in the world to stop himself from immediately attacking Virgil as he walked in. He waited carefully ducked behind the living room door and as his lee walked through with a confused frown. Then he struck!

“Pat? I’m back- oh goaahhahahahahahAHAHAAAA!” Patton’s hands latched on to his sides to then guide him to the sofa.

“Hey Virge! Sorry but Patton’s not here right now, guess who’s here in his place though?”

“PAAAATTON! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! No! You’reeehahahAHAHAA you’re ahaha! You’re not ahahahahaha! Patton!” Virgil threw his head back once he was sat on the sofa. Patton was now just holding his sides with a teasy grin! The gentle pressure enough to spark endless giggles.

“No guesses? I’m not who? You can’t even say my name? My name is...” Patton leaned down close and Virgil flinched anticipating neck tickles, “My name is the tickle monster!”

In a flash, he turned around to Virgil’s socked feet. His ultimate tickle spot! And boy did it look like they needed some good old tickles after such a long day at work.

Virgil desperately curled up but was blocked by Patton’s back. It almost looked like Virgil was cuddling into him as thanks for the tickle monster’s tickles scuttling over his soles. Patton was just tickling over his socks but it felt just as bad as bare soles.

“PAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAA! NOOHOHOHHAHAHAHAHA!”

Roman and Logan had to spend the next hour awkwardly avoiding their co-workers questions about their own proud wobbly smiles. Their soul link was bursting with such joyful happiness.

#ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #tickling #tickle community #fanfic #Turtle writing #fluff #lee virgil #ler patton

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ateezmakemeweep · 5 years ago

Photo

richboy!seonghwa (part 3)

word count: 5k

angst, fluff

(part 2) (series masterlist)

"pop quiz today! clear your desks and take out a pen," your third period teacher announces the next day, groans of protest filling the room and you'd be lying if you said you didn't contribute a quiet one yourself.

because until 10:00 last night, you had already been attempting to catch up on all the new topics you had yet to learn at your old school.

you went through all of the syllabuses, highlighted some notes, and even read through a few textbooks until you eventually passed out and drooled all over the open book.

and now as you're staring at these ten questions, you quickly discover you exhausted yourself for nothing last night.

because you still don't know shit.

you rewrite and erase and rewrite some answers close to five times before you huff, the boy next to you side-eyeing you as flip your test over in defeat and put your head down on the desk.

you lay there with your eyes closed for the next few minutes, trying not to let your mind plague itself with worst case scenarios.

but it's hard not to when you're here on a scholarship, when your purpose here is solely dependent on the grades you receive and if you can't hold them up, the money your family doesn't have will be the only way to keep you educated.

you hate that it's only the second day and you're already on the verge of an anxiety attack, eyes squeezed shut, breaths uneven and choppy as you try to clear your mind and remember the good things that are gonna happen today.

like seeing seonghwa next period and your new friend mingi during lunch and then your day is more than halfway over.

those helpful reminders wrack your brain for the rest of class, silent study time as you try to ignore the teacher grading the quizzes just five feet away from you.

a paper landing on your desk a few minutes later rips you from your attempt at working, your head snapping up to meet your teacher's gaze.

"can you meet me after class for a minute," she asks you, her eyes glaring into yours as you nod your head quickly.

and it's after the bell rings, with slight judgement in her tone, that she tells you she knows you're here on a scholarship and wants to ensure that, in order to keep your placement, you're serious about working hard in this sort of institute.

"i am, of course i am," you ramble out, "i just...we didn't cover any of this in my old school yet and i was trying to catch up last night but-"

her humming cuts you off and you immediately shut your mouth, a little intimated by her presence and attitude. she stares at you, then down to your paper that reads 4/10, then back to your wide, nervous eyes and she hesitates before beginning to speak.

"this is a one time offer," she tells you sternly, tone cold but eyes holding the smallest bit of compassion, "come to my office during your lunch period. i'll have you meet a student that can help you catch up.”

just as your about to blurt out your gratitude, she then adds, "but it isn't gonna look good if a scholarship student is using a tutor so i'd advise you learn the material fast and not parade that information around."

you feel a twinge of something in your chest, maybe embarrassment or even shame because the way she says scholarship makes it sound like it's a bad thing.

and you know it's not.

you know you've worked hard and that you're smart and have certainly earned your spot at this institute.

but it's also hard to ignore the way everyone here looks at you, their disapproving eyes lingering over you any chance they get.

regardless you nod your head, a small smile on your face because even though she's scary, you're grateful for the support.

"of course, yeah, okay, thank you so much," you tell her. she simply nods, eyes wandering to the door as if she's saying 'get lost' before turning around to face the board.

you scurry out quickly and down the hall to your 4th period class, barreling into the room and heading straight towards the back.

seonghwa's already in his seat, watching as you bump into two desks and apologize softly. he observes your figure the entire time and can sense within those few seconds that you're uneasy.

because if your slightly messy hair, flushed cheeks and quiz turned outward with a handful of red markings didn't indicate it, the frown on your face and glossy eyes certainly did.

you plop down in your seat with a huff, fumbling with the paper in your hand and feeling your stomach knot from all of the x marks as you read it over again; you know it was a pop quiz but she could've at least hinted that there was gonna be something of the sorts.

overwhelmed by the queasiness in your stomach and racing mind, you don't even realize you're mumbling under your breath until you hear a quiet laugh in front of you.

your head snaps up just as seonghwa turns around, a small innocent smile making its way on your face as he looks at you with a smirk.

his eyes always seem to be twinged with amusement when he looks at you and you're not exactly sure if that's a good or bad thing; but you do know you'll probably never get used to how handsome and intimidating he is.

"hey," he says, his tone calm and cool and you almost forgot how nice his voice was.

"hi, seonghwa," you say softly, a small smile on your face that he notices doesn't reach your eyes.

"any particular reason you're talking to yourself today?" he asks with his deep voice and your cheeks flush in record time.

"oh...i-i didn't even... i was..wait do i-"

"disaster, tutor and stupid rich people?" he quips back with what he was able to gather. his eyebrow is now cocked, smirk widening on his face and you close your eyes in embarrassment.

"yeah, that about sums up my morning," you complain, "i did bad on my first pop quiz and now i need to meet with a tutor but because i'm a scholarship student. i shouldn't even be having one and the way she says scholarship just makes me feel so-"

the words die in your throat when you see him blankly staring at you and your cheeks flush, eyes focusing on the board behind him before shyly meeting his gaze again.

"and i'm so sorry, you don't wanna hear this, oh god.”

you're usually a babbling mess but his presence just seems to make it 10x worse. the way he stares at you with no real emotion, no clear indication if he wants you to continue or get the hell out of his face.

"no? what makes you think that?" he asks, head turned to the side ever so slightly as his eyes roam over your face.

"i...uh well...i don't know," you finish lamely, voice quiet and soft before admitting, "you're...incredibly hard to read."

even the way he's smirking at you, pretty pink lips stretched across his face, is so cryptic.

"you think?"

you huff, air deflating out of your chest as your shoulders fall defeatedly and it causes a little laugh to leave his mouth.

"what?" he asks, the innocence in his tone and sparkle in his eyes a complete contrast to the crooked, cocky smile making it's way on his face.

"see, stupid rich people," you mumble, the words falling from your lips before you can stop them and he turns his head to the side to hide the laugh that bubbles out of him.

you smile at the sound of it and it eases some of the knots in your stomach....for all of three seconds.

because then he's reaching his hand out, his fingers running through a knotty strand of hair that frames your face. he smooths it out with a gentleness that doesn't seem to match his aura, watching as you stiffen slightly and hold your breath at his closeness.

you don't even notice the teacher's shoes clacking into the classroom because he's leaning in toward you slowly, inch by painfully slow inch until his face is close enough to yours that you're able to make out the specs of light brown in his eyes.

"careful, new girl, just rich," he says and then you nearly crumble in his hand when he winks at you before pulling back and turning to face the board.

you spend the rest of your class trying to catch your breath, his eyes and voice and the slightest feel of his touch causing your brain to be in yet another frenzy.

when the bell rings for the end of the period, seonghwa stands and turns around to see you fumbling with the books on your desk.

the corner of your notebook knocks into your pen and you snap your head up just in time to see him catch it, holding the pen between his long fingers and you feel yourself swallow thickly looking at the two black rings adorning them.

you hurriedly throw your books back in your bag, standing up and thanking him before reaching out to grab it. your fingers brush and you know the spark you feel is entirely in your head, your infatuation with a boy you've known for less than two days pathetically consuming your entire being.

you're about to walk passed him when he puts his arm on the desk next to him, blocking your pathway and a little squeak leaves your mouth when you nearly collide into him. you look up at him and the intensity of his gaze would scare you if it wasn't for the smallest of smiles on his face.

"what?" you ask, your heart about to pound out of your chest from your proximity.

he's silent for a few moments, his eyes roaming over every inch of your face before he breaths out, "try to relax, okay?" and those were the last words you were expecting to hear him say.

the look of shock on your face has a laugh threatening to burst from him, your mouth slightly parted and head turned to the side. you told him he was difficult to read but he just thinks you make it too easy, your eyes so easily twinged with emotion.

they were scared and apprehensive when he first saw you, trotting through his yard in slippers and pajamas at six in the morning.

they were full of fascination and submission when he pulled back from whispering his name to you yesterday morning, so wide and innocent but also holding a certain heat.

and now they were completely caught off guard, questioning and soft and he thinks their the sole reason he's quickly becoming enchanted by you.

he watches as you try to formulate some words, anything really, and decides to put you out of your misery by inhaling deeply, then exhaling deeply.

"try that," he commands and you immediately follow what he says, even though you're tense and anxious for completely different reasons now.

he watches as you take breath deeply, your eyes never leaving his and they're all but burning into one another now. his eyes fall down to your lips, watching as you breath out before looking back at your face when the final one passes through.

good girl," he praises and you swear your knees wobble at hearing those words fall from his lips.

he watches as you swallow, eyes wide and teeth biting into your lower lip ever so slightly. his hand tightens around the desk that's still keeping you barricaded, the heat from both your bodies radiating between the small space.

"stop doing that and get to class," he warns lowly, pulling his arm back and nodding his head down the aisle.

you want to tell him that you planned on it before he blocked you in, want to talk back to get some sort of reaction out of him but you think it's better not to, for the risk of calling him sir is highly likely with how easily you're listening to his commands.

you nod, your cheeks covered with what seems to be a permanent flush as you quickly walk passed him.

he watches as you turn your head in the doorway, your eyes meeting again for one, two, three, four seconds like you can't physically pull your eyes apart before another student harshly bumps into you in the doorway.

your eyes break away from his as you say what seonghwa can only assume is an apology before scurrying out of the hallway and a shaky exhale finally leaves his lips. he loosens his blue and yellow tie, suddenly feeling very suffocated and hot and he doesn't know what's gotten in to him today.

because as he leaves, he may or may not have made it a point to shoulder bump the boy who knocked into you.

he's at his locker one period later when "yo, seonghwa," booms down the hall, coming from the voice he recognizes as one of his best friends.

the two have been close since elementary school, their parents' lifelong coworkers who always shipped them off together at company parties or formal gatherings.

"hey, we still going out for lunch?" he asks, his gaze toward his locker causing him to miss his friend's pissed off scowl.

"it appears not," the boy growls and seonghwa closes his locker, turning to see his friend's annoyed face.

"what's got you all pissy?"

"just found out i have to tutor some asshole," his friend says, "who needs tutoring a month into school? just pay off the teacher or some shit."

"the school's top scholar, kang yeosang, ladies and gents," seonghwa quips sarcastically causing the smaller boy to lightly punch him in the arm.

"or do it the park seonghwa way, wink and flirt with 50 year old women. that's a lot better," yeosang says dryly and the boy rolls his eyes, roughly pushing him a few feet.

"we both know that's not my style."

"oh, right, you much prefer-"

"i want some snack!"

seonghwa and yeosang's head snap up to their friend's loud voice, the boy barreling down the hall and bouncing in front of them excitedly. he joined their friend group in 4th grade, the small, shy new boy with dimples and a kind smile.

"are we going or what," he whines suddenly, "i'm hungry."

"san, you literally just got here," seonghwa says, judgement in his tone and yeosang rolls his eyes before shaking his head.

"count me out, i was just telling him i have to tutor already," yeosang grumbles, "but really, how fucking stupid could this person gonna be."

"coming from the top student who just pays off every teacher in this school," san says and seonghwa nods his head in agreement.

"don't worry, he already made sure to mention that."

"what a dick," san comments and just as seonghwa laughs in agreement, yeosang grumbles, "okay fuck you both, goodbye."

he hears his friend’s high pitched laughs the whole time he stomps down the hallway to his teacher's office.

meanwhile you've been sitting in the office for close to fifteen minutes now, your teacher picking through her salad and chatting quietly on her phone without a care in the world; you're grateful for the chatter or she would've heard your stomach growling nonstop.

suddenly the door bursts open and someone you can only compare to as a prince waltzes in, his perfect hair and posture and attire that would've wowed you if wasn't for the harsh scowl on his face.

his cold eyes meet yours and his eyebrows furrow together, looking you up and down until his eyes land on your shoes. his top lip raises in disgust and you attempt to give him a small smile but he's already turning around to face your teacher.

"is this her?" he harshly asks and the woman looks up boredly, her eyebrow raised as she pulls her phone away from her ear.

"yes," she says, "like i said, she's a transfer and didn't learn a few topics at her old school. you're still willing to tutor, correct?"

"i guess so," the boy mumbles and the woman looks at him with such sympathy, like he's the one being portrayed as an inconvenience when this wasn't even a service you asked for.

"thank you, mr kang," the teacher says gratefully, "perhaps...the library would be more suited for you both," she says even though it's obvious she wants to get back to the phone call about her upcoming trip to prague.

he doesn't say a word, just turns and walks out the door without sparing you a glance and you get up to quickly follow him, the door nearly slamming in your face.

you feel nervousness bubble up in you, surprised that you're not to used these hostile attitudes by now. you waddle a touch faster than normal until you're a few feet behind him.

"um...i'm y/n, by the way," you tell him quietly causing him to stop short and you nearly bump into him.

he turns around, looking at you with a quizzical expression and you swallow the panic rising in your throat.

"thank you...i know this is probably the last thing you wanna do during your lunch period so i really appreciate-"

"yeah, you're right," he snaps, rolling his eyes, "so why don't you just shut up and follow me?"

he almost feels a little bit bad when your face drops, eyes falling to the floor and your feet retracting back as if you were physically wounded by his harsh tone.

but then he thinks about the true inconvenience of this, how he could be out with his friends right now but instead has to mull over math he's been able to do since the age of 11 and his annoyance comes back with a vengeance.

so with that, he turns around and continues the walk to the library. you follow behind a few moments later, taking deep breathes in and out and calming slightly when you think back to him and the advice he gave you.

the boy opens the library door, not bothering to hold it for you as you slip through and your eyes immediately search for the large boy with glasses.

you find him peeking at the entrance of the library, the smallest smile crossing his face when he sees you and then his eyebrows furrowing when he watches you follow yeosang three tables away from him.

you smile back at him before your eyes drop to the floor and take a seat across from mr kang. there's a tense silence for what's probably thirty seconds, you fumbling to get your textbook out and open as he just watches you with stony eyes.

"so i went through the textbook last night and i think i just need some help with-”

"what does a scholarship student need a tutor for anyway?" he interrupts and you turn your head to the side. how does he know that? the teacher acted as if she didn't want anyone to know.

the confusion must be evident on your face because he speaks again, causing your stomach to plummet and palms to sweat.

"it's obvious, no self-respecting girl here would wear those hideous things," he says, gesturing to your feet and your heart pangs just a little because you didn't think they were that ugly to be called out on numerous occasions.

"it's also rare for anyone to get a tutor,” he continues, “we all just usually pay for an a."

in fear that you'll burst into tears, you try to just focus on explaining your situation.

"well...it's just because i transferred schools and we hadn't covered the topics yet," you explain again, "i just need a little help. i tried to teach it to myself but the textbook was kind of confusing...and as for as the shoes, that seems to be the general consensus here," you say, an attempt at humor that falls flat.

yeosang rolls his eyes and he truthfully doesn't know why he's being so harsh. but he finds himself unable to stop because everything is annoying him now.

"i'm sure it was for someone like you," he mumbles and you snap your head to look at him, hurt clear on your face before he says, "show me the chapters."

despite being insulted, you're willing to shut your mouth and endure it because you just want to learn the work and be over with it. he summarizes the concept of the math formula in layman's terms, something you're actually finding incredibly helpful, before he tells you to attempt one of the problems.

it takes a several minutes but you eventually get it, showing him the paper and he sarcastically claps before telling you to do another.

it's a shame, you think, because he's probably a good tutor for respectable rich people he deems worthy of standard human kindness. you can tell he's smart, that numbers and mathematics come natural to him.

which is exactly why he gets frustrated with you ten minutes later, the third to last concept you need to learn not wrapping around your brain. you're looking back on the notes you took as he spoke and explained the concept, rereading the equation but it's just...not making sense.

"what don't you understand? i just told you," he snaps and you feel your own frustration burning in you.

"i'm just confused on what step to do next," you tell him, attempting to stay calm.

he huffs, grabbing your paper out from under your hand causing stray scribbles as you jump at the harsh movement.

he does the problem in under 30 seconds, silently showing you his work as if that's supposed to help; you look it over nonetheless but, as suspected, still don't understand.

"how was that supposed to help," you mumble sassily, not being able to help your attitude.

"jesus christ, you're a real fucking-" he growls loudly until an loud, singular bang is heard throughout the library.

you both look up, yeosang's head snapping up while yours turns toward mingi; but the boy is just sitting there, headphones in and eyes on his book.

"can you please just explain it to me," you beg quietly and an annoyed sigh leaves his mouth before he starts talking hushly, like he wasn't just about to scream a string of curse words at you.

and alas, all you needed was a verbal explanation because it's like a lightbulb went off and you were able to complete the problem speedily. you're trying to rush through the rest of the material, wanting and hoping and praying that this is the first and last day you ever need to associate with this boy.

"see, all i need are verbal explanations," you say softly to him, wanting him to understand that that's how you learn and how to make this time go faster. but apparently, he doesn't see it that way.

you can tell in the way he stiffens, in the way a scoff leaves his mouth and, most obviously, in the way his words start to rip holes through you.

"oh so now you know more than me? a more proper way on how to teach someone not to be a fucking idiot?"

his words make you halt and tears sting behind your eyes; not because his words are getting to you but because they're so harsh and mean and he doesn't even know you.

"i'm not an idiot," you growl, finally having enough of it despite the fact you're shaking at this confrontation, "i'm telling you so this goes faster."

"you are a bit of an idiot," he says mockingly, "trying to go to a school this expensive and finding a loophole with our academics and not even being able to do that."

more tears prick your eyes and you can't even believe he's really saying this to you. because you don't believe it, you really don't, but it hurts hearing, especially with the marked up paper in your bag that feels like it weighs 200 pounds.

"how does it feel to be a horrible person?" you spit at him, "you don't even know me and you can say this kind of stuff to me."

"how does it feel to be stupid and poor?" he spits right back before observing your face with glossy eyes and pouty lips, "but, hey, you're not ugly, maybe you can use that to your advantage and-"

the loud slam from before echoes through the room again, followed by a chair scuffling against the floor and then a large figure standing over your table. you look up to see mingi and you can see the anger blazing in his eyes even with that glasses on his face.

"enough," his deep voice snaps and the boy in front of you has the audacity to laugh.

"and who are you? another scholarship student?"

he says it just like the teacher did and it makes you wanna claw his eyes out.

"do you wanna sit with me, y/n?" he asks you softly, turning his back to ignore the boy. you blink your eyes rapidly a few times, refusing to let your tears fall in front of that asshole and you nod your head.

"yes, please," you say and the tall boy immediately bends down to grab your backpack as you collect your papers and close the textbook.

"we don't have to do this again, i'll just tell her we covered everything,” you tell the boy behind you, not wanting to turn around and see the mean, hard look in his eyes.

you don’t see the way he’s watching you with a smirk, leaning back on his chair so cockily as he says, "good idea. make sure you tell her how helpful i was, since i solidified your career as a cheap wh-"

almost on instinct, mingi pushes the chair back and it clatters against the floor.

yeosang falls back with a yelp, catching himself with his hands before he could smack his head on the floor and rage rips through his chest at the boy looming over him.

"what the fuck is your problem!" he screams as he jumps up, fists clenched despite the obvious size difference, "you could've fucking killed me!"

"good," is all mingi says, attempting to usher you back to his table; but yeosang has other plans because he charges and pushes mingi's back, nearly knocking you down had you not gripped the table last minute.

you hear the deep mumble of "shit," mingi’s large hand grabbing the back of your arm on instinct and steadying you even more.

"you okay?" he mumbles down by your ear and you nod before the taunts of the other boy start up again.

"hey, asshole, you could've killed me, don't you understand?" he growls and mingi turns around to face him, staring down at him completely unamused as he blocks you from yeosang's view.

"don't you understand that i don't care," mingi says, taking one step closer to the smaller boy, "you were being an asshole and you should apologize."

a bitter laugh leaves the boy, eyeing mingi up and down in shock.

"you're kidding! i should apologize when you nearly cracked my skull? you've got fucking balls, i'll give you that," yeosang says and now it's his turn to take one step closer.

"i only did that because you were being a dick," mingi replies calmly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you're standing there unsure of what to do, not wanting them to start fighting and freaking out at the prospect of watching this unfair fight go down before your very eyes.

you hear yourself beg, "guys, stop," through your pounding, clogged ears but to no avail do they stop; in fact, you think you hear their voices getting louder and then the distinct sound of the library door opening.

your neck twists backward and your eyes widen when seonghwa walks in with another boy, both of them smiling and laughing as they make their way to the table. seonghwa's eyes meet yours first, his smile dropping when he sees you're upset again.

because just like this morning, he's able to tell.

and it's not until his friend hits him in the arm, pointing towards mingi and yeosang, that he breaks eye contact with you and rushes over to the two boys.

san pulls yeosang back by his jacket as seonghwa steps in the middle of the two boys, staring at you over mingi's shoulder with blazing, questioning eyes.

"what the fuck is happening!" you hear the boy seonghwa came in with shout, "are you really trying to fight this guy? he's a literal foot taller than you."

"he nearly cracked my fucking head open! and it's not a foot!"

"it's definitely a foot," mingi mumbles under his breath and an annoyed growl leaves yeosang's mouth.

seonghwa steps back slightly and looks at each of you before his eyes fall to your figure, still being blocked behind mingi's body.

"y/n, what's going on?" he asks you, voice deep and serious and you're very much intimidated right now. you just wanna get the hell out of this library.

"you know this poor idiot?!" yeosang snaps, "how the hell do you know her?"

"i told you to stop calling me that!" you snap just as mingi growls, "stop calling her that."

he then turns to meet your glossy gaze, handing you your backpack and nodding his head toward the door silently.

"thank you, mingi," you tell him softly, your fingertips grazing as you grab your backpack.

seonghwa watches as you give him a small smile and there's a burning feeling he doesn't recognize course through his veins for a second.

because then your eyes are on him and you're begging yourself to not cry from the stress and humiliation of this disaster.

but he sees it and there's a pang in his heart watching you leave, shoulders slumped and head down as a hand goes to your face and he prays you're not wiping a tear from your eye.

his guarded eyes meet mingi's and the boy just blankly stares at him before seonghwa cranes his neck to look at his friends before going back to the tall boy's and he's unnerved that he's not speaking.

"are you gonna say something?" seonghwa asks, his tone attempting to stay neutral even though he needs to know what the hell happened now.

"ask your friend, he said plenty to her," mingi spits back, shooting a glare at yeosang one more time before going to the table to pick up his stuff and stomping out of the library.

seonghwa watches as he leaves out of the same exit you did and has to resist the urge to follow. to see if he's going to talk or console you in the way he for some reason wants to.

but instead, he turns around, daggers shooting into his friend's eyes as he stares down at him. yeosang's a little thrown off by the anger and is shocked by the venom in seonghwa's tone when he commands,

"tell me what happened. now."

(part 4)

#moodboard #seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #ateez #ateez fic #seonghwa fic #ateez fluff #ateez angst

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randomwritings · 4 years ago

Text

Pride

Harry Potter, George Weasley x Reader

A/N: I’m kind of biased so please let me know if this is actually crap or not. Thank you for reading xx.

Something about the quidditch stands has always held an appeal to you. Sitting in the stands you didn’t mind the shiver that crept up your spine every now and again, a slight chill in the air, knowing that if you were to make this decision you would have to make it here. As a slight breeze made its way through your hair you glanced down at the letter that you clutched tightly in your hands. The wind whipped against your face, freezing the stray tears. Pulling your cloak tight around you you raised your hand to your lips, sending out a short whistle. Not more than three seconds later your owl Archimedes made his way to your arm, ever the prompt one.

“Take this letter to George Weasley,” You spoke, cooing softly and giving him a soft scratch before sending him on his way.

You watched as your red owl took flight, soaring quickly towards Gryffindor tower. Standing up you adjusted your robes once more before making your way towards the astronomy tower.

***

Being with George was a whirlwind of emotions. Your relationship didn’t start off great, being in Slytherin and all. You were ashamed to admit that you let house prejudice dictate your relationships, even more ashamed to admit that part of you still did, but you couldn’t deny his charm. You shared some classes with the Gryffindor prankster, being in the same year, so naturally bickering found its way between the two of you, often to the utmost annoyance of your professor’s. For the first time in your 5 years at hogwarts you had gotten detention, and it was all thanks to the weasel not being able to keep his mouth closed.

“Well this is just great, thanks to you I now have a mark on my previously spotless record,” You huffed, glaring at the back of his head as he pulled a mop and bucket out of the transfiguration classroom closet. Only you would receive a detention from Professor McGonagall, not one to be swayed no matter how much pleading. She had ordered the two of you to mop the classroom until perfection before walking off to attend to other matters.

“Oh how tragic, are mummy and daddy going to be disappointed in their perfect angel?,” He grumbled, not bothering to look at you as he spoke. Despite the annoyance you felt towards the fiery red head you couldn’t help but admire his features. No matter how infuriating he was even you couldn’t deny he was attractive, playing as one of Gryffindor’s beaters definitely benefitting him with a lean figure and strong arms. Most of all his eyes intrigued you, a slight golden spec flickering every now and then, and a kind of warmth hidden just beneath that you hadn’t seen in quite a long time.

“What?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. It wasn’t until his voice broke you out of your stupor did you realize you had been staring. Shaking your head you remained silent, a blush rising to your cheeks. As you took a few steps towards him, grabbing the mop, your hand brushed gently against his. Pulling out his wand he quickly cast a spell, filling the bucket with water and soap. “Why don’t we just use a spell to clean the floors?” You groaned, dipping the mop in the bucket.

“Because dear Slytherin, Mcgonagall would have placed a spell within this room preventing us from using magic, doing so would just land us in another detention.”

“Just to be clear the only reason we’re here in the first place is because you don’t know how to be quiet.”

“Oh I know how to be quiet, I just prefer to piss you off,” He replied, looking over at you with a smirk.

“Whatever.” You couldn’t help the fear that was beginning to creep up, at first all you could focus on was the anger at George for landing you in detention, but now you began to think about your parents. There was no chance in Salazar that you could keep this from them, and you could only imagine what they would have to say.

“Hey,” he spoke, taking a good look at you for the first time that evening. ��It’s going to be okay, this is going to be your first and probably only detention, you can just blame it on some stupid Gryffindor,” he finished with a coy smile that only widened as he saw your tension ease.

Failing to hide the soft chuckle you looked up at him, biting your lip. “Thanks.”

The rest of the evening was spent in silence, the two of you exchanging glances every now and then. Ever since that evening though you found yourself minding George less and less, until it all came to a head one evening in the quidditch stands. You had done poorly on an arithmancy exam a few days ago and like all of your important decisions you had found yourself sitting in the stands, debating how on earth you were going to tell your parents. No matter how you worded it in your next letter you just knew you would receive a howler in return, berating you and even worse embarrassing you in front of the entire school.

“I didn’t expect to find you up here.”

The voice, no matter how appealing you were beginning to find it, startled you to no end. Quick to grab your wand you pointed it at George’s throat, clutching your chest as your pulse began to slow again.

“Sorry love,” he chuckled as you lowered your wand, “I thought you heard me coming.”

He was quick to take a seat at your side, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of his body, which you relished in the winter chill. “You okay?” He asked, brows furrowed as he took in your current state. Somehow you found yourself spilling your soul to him, somewhere along the way clutching his hand for comfort. He listened as you spoke of your current dilemma, no ounce of judgement in his eyes.

Only after you were done did you seem to notice that you were holding his hand, heat rising to your cheeks as you quickly let go. “Sorry,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he responded, reaching over to take your hand in his once again. The two of you didn’t speak for a while, staring intently at each other for what felt like forever before he seemingly shook himself out of his languor.

“You have to be one of the smartest witches in Hogwarts,” he began, “Blimey, one of the smartest witches period,” he corrected himself, smiling softly as he watched a blush rise in your cheeks. “Whatever happens, it doesn’t define you.”

It took you a while to respond, a sort of tingling igniting itself in your stomach. Raising your head you looked over at George, a smile gracing your features. “Weasley, are you complimenting me?” you teased, leaning closer to him.

He licked his lips before eyeing your own. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him in anticipation. “I think I just might be,” he spoke, moving even closer towards you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your face before he moved to cup your cheek. Leaning your face into his hand you relished in the warmth, looking up at George before giving an almost imperceptible nod. With that George closed whatever distance was left between you two, brushing his lips softly against yours before pulling away. Coming back stronger he sucked softly on your bottom lip, running his tongue along it before you opened your mouth. You always wondered what it would be like to be kissed like this, a proper kiss. In that moment you couldn’t imagine it feeling like this with anyone else but George. Your tongue met George’s, soft and slow. Moving your hand to grasp the back of his head, fingers entangling in his red hair, you pulled him closer, deeper. After what felt like an eternity you both pulled away, faces crimson red.

It wasn’t long before the two of you could be spotted walking around the halls together, sitting side by side in any class you may share. Soon enough you became good friends with Fred, though he was reluctant at first he trusted his twin’s judgement, quickly seeing what attracted his brother to you. Your happiness didn’t last long though, the whispers of your house mates, other peers, and most especially the thought of what your parents might think getting to you, souring any and all chance of merriment.

So you ended things.

Out of fear and self preservation you began to pick at George, until all the two of you did was argue. Quickly you broke up with him, acting as though this didn’t affect you in the slightest. It broke your heart into a thousand pieces to see the pain etched across George’s face, and to know you were the sole cause. Being raised in your household you were taught that blood mattered above all else. Being with George you knew that this statement did not hold true. He had shown you a whole new world and when it ended you didn’t know how to be. Without him, the world had lost it’s previously oh so vibrant color.

Which brings you to where you were now, standing in the astronomy tower, and holding out hope that there was still a chance.

“I got your letter.” A familiar voice sounded from behind you, making you spin in your place. There he stood, dark bags under his eyes and red hair in a complete disarray. You moved to stand directly in front of him, raising your hand up to touch his face before you caught yourself, clutching your hand to your chest.

“I’m surprised you came,” You spoke, feeling completely out of place, vulnerable.

“Well, I assumed whatever you had to say must be important, why else would you send the letter?” He spoke, voice tight, jaw clenched.

“Right,” you mumbled, smoothing out your skirt, suddenly unsure. Even if you told him everything you needed to, would he still want you? No matter his response though, he needed to know the truth, and you needed to say it.

“Well?” George’s voice always had a certain power over you, bringing you back from any thoughts that may be swimming around in your head, or in this case your heart.

“My entire life I've been taught to think one way,” you blurted, wincing as he only looked further confused.

“And what’s that? That i’m a blood traitor?,” he spoke, voice completely monotone.

You were quick to shake your head, trying to find the right way to voice everything you were thinking, but instead it all just came tumbling out in one heaping mess.

“No, I don’t think that. I’m ashamed to admit that at one time I might have, but not anymore, not after you.”

“Ah, and that’s why you broke up with me,” He responded, a dark chuckle leaving his throat.

“Would you just listen?,” you cried, tears forming in your eyes, finally silencing him.

“It’s...it’s hard for me to explain this. Before you I was told that I was better. That there were purebloods and then there was the lesser,” at your words a grimace settled across his face, letting a smile spread across your face.

“You never could just wait,” You spoke, looking at him longingly meeting his eyes for a few seconds before carrying on.

“When we...being with you makes me want to be better, and to do better, I don’t want to think that way anymore, but hearing everyone, seeing the way they looked at us, and what my family may think...i-,”

“You realized that you need to be with another pureblood right? One that doesn’t dare speak to the ‘lesser’?”

“Dammit George! I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with you!” Clasping a hand over your mouth your eyes widened.

“You what?” he asked, the first traces of a smile evident.

“I got scared, and if I'm being honest I still am, but I want to be scared with you. If it means having you in my life I don’t give a damn what my parents think, nor anyone else for that matter.”

You couldn’t meet his gaze, fear tying knots throughout your stomach. Being met with nothing but silence in return you couldn’t hide the quiet sob that escaped you, a tear making its way down your cheek as your vision blurred.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to tell you so I’m going to go back to my dorm,” You spoke, the words rushing out as your feet carried you towards the staircase and away from what you knew to be the love of your life. As you grasped the railing a hand reached out, spinning you around and bringing you into his warmth. His lips crushed against your own, need and so much love evident within the single kiss it took your breath away. Pulling away slowly he rested his forehead against yours, a lazy, happy grin spread across his face. You were sure you held a matching one on your own features.

“Does this mean you love me too?” You asked, voice soft.

“Are you daft? Of course I love you, how could I not?” He murmured, his lips tracing the outer shell of your ear.

Wrapping your arms around him, you felt content. “I’m sorry for how I treated you,” you spoke, looking up at him.

“I know,” he said, dotting your forehead with kisses, “I forgive you. From now on though, should you be feeling worried, come to me and I promise we’ll make it through it.”

His words eased any worries you may have still held. That was one of the many things you loved about George, no matter what, he was your peace. Though there were still many trials the two of you may face, you knew that you could conquer anything with him at your side.

#harry potter #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #fred weasley #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #fluff #angst

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ff15trashgoldenslumbers · 5 years ago

Text

Uhhh Second Read

I have no idea what number I’m on anymore...

~~~~~

Noctis

So many parties! If Noctis didn’t know he’d be caught by Ignis and that it would make his father upset to not witness, he would have eloped with you. But no he had to do this by royal protocol, and royal protocol meant weeks of engagement parties, and fancy dinners.

Still, he had to admit if he had to go through it with anyone he was so happy it was you. You standing so proudly by his side, showing off all the Princess training that Ignis and your tutors put you through. It also meant that he got to see you in all those pretty dresses. He was so busy admiring you that he almost missed his cue to address the Duke, Duchess and their daughter, who had quite the crush on the Prince.

“A pleasure!” The Duchess cooed, before nudging her daughter who was staring so at Noctis. The Duchess’s eyes turned to you standing beside Noctis, Ignis flanking the two of you, hissing between her and her daughter, as Noctis was greeting the Duke.

‘My gods, you’d think the commoner would even attempt to try to impress royalty.’

The Duchess daughter let out a snicker in their native language, ‘I know Mummy, She looks ridiculous.’

Noctis wasn’t certain what she had muttered, but heard the offending intake of air from Ignis behind him, watching his advisor step forward. Only to stop as you rose your hand halting Ignis with a smile.

‘My Duchess, at least one of us knows the meaning of modesty.’ You replied to the shocked face of the Duchess and Princess in their native tongue, offering them your hand as was protocol. ‘After all, why would I need to impress anyone other than my husband. Unlike some persons.’

The Duke stammered, as he pressed a kiss to your hand and ushered his family off the platform.

Noctis stared in confusion, “What was that?”

You smiled toward the Prince hearing Ignis chuckle softly, “Oh nothing seems my dress is the talk of the night.”

~~~~~

Prompto

This was fun!

You couldn’t help the large stupid smile on your face as you watched these four brave men running around after the Cuddle of Chocobos that managed to be playing keep-away with Prompto’s camera.

How they even got the camera was in itself a mystery. Yet none of the guys would ever get close enough to the Chocobo to even have a chance of getting the strap. Lucky the camera was in its shockproof case when it was taken so there was no worry about it accidentally shattering.

“Y/N, aren’t you going to help?” Prompto called.

You put on a bright over the top smile to your boyfriend, “What’s in it for me?”

Prompto stopped chasing the Chocobo along with the others as they all stared at you. Only to hear you cackling as you moved towards the battlefield, asking everyone to politely stand behind you.

“I get dinner choice tonight and for the next two hotel stops.” You stated over your shoulders, before turning back to the Chocobo. Waiting for one to run by as you reached out without a second thought and managed to climb on without a harness to guide you.

Leaping from Chocobo to Chocobo before managing to get to the one holding the camera, reaching forward taking a hold of the lanyard, before prying its mouth open to get your prize. Manging to flip off its back landing before the guys.

“And here you are.” You smiled.

“Y/N, where are Eos did you learn that?” Ignis inquired.

You gave that same over the top smile, “You guys don’t know everything about me.” Only for your eyes to turn to Prompto as you heard him mutter. “Nothing’s broken is it, Sweetie?”

“Holy shit, my girlfriend’s a superhero.”

~~~~~

Gladiolus

You would never forget the first time you were invited to the annual Amicita camping trip. Having been Gladiolus' girlfriend, and Clarus seeing just how head over heels you were for each other, the man invited you along.

Now to say that the elder Amicita didn’t like you was wrong, he liked you cause you would be on his son's case when he wasn’t, and you brought out the best in Gladiolus. The thing being, you were very “Girly”. Not that he had an issue with that.

At any party that could be thrown into, he knew that you had it in the bag.

It was just that they would be camping in tents in nature for the next few days, and you were known for your fashion-forward dresses, and your long nails and always styled hair. You just didn’t scream nature, yet Gladiolus was so insistent on you coming along, and Iris was finally happy to have some girl time.

“You got it, babe?” Gladiolus called, as you followed them up the cliffs where you all would be camping for the evening.

“Yep.” You smiled back with a slight pant.

“Gladiolus carry Y/Ns, backpack for her.” Clarus called, “I raised you better than that.”

“Oh it’s fine Mr. Amicitia, I just somehow got a rock in my shoe.” You smiled, sitting down on the boulder to remove said rock.

“Have you been camping before Big Sis?” Iris asked as you relaced your boots.

“It’s been a while, I had to replace a lot of gear.” You smiled, before turning to the others. “Are we ready?”

Gladiolus pointed beyond the cliff peak, “We’re heading over there and will set up camp on the other side of the pasture.”

“Ready whenever you are.”

Clarus looked to his son, couldn’t Gladiolus see that you were struggling. Maybe they should stop prior to the pasture so that you didn’t wear yourself out. It would be the first year that the Amicitia’s didn’t come out in their spot, but if it meant it was easier on you, they would have to deal with the sacrifice this time.

So while making their way down, Clarus turned toward the rest of his party announcing they would be camping there for the evening.

“Dad, we still have plenty of light, we can make it to the camping spot in no time,” Gladiolus replied.

Clarus stared at his son, before turning a glancing toward you, “We don’t want to push ourselves.”

“It’s not that big, an hour tops, right?” You smiled standing between Gladiolus and Iris.

Clarus tried to argue but figured there would be no harm in turning around.

So when an Alphatusk suddenly attacked midway through the field, he was quick to tell you to move back with Iris, only to instead find you grabbing something from your bag and rushing pass Gladiolus, your left hand coming up only to find blade claws on your hands, and the way you moved showed that you had plenty of practice in them.

No more than 10 minutes later, did you all stand on the defeated enemy, as you removed your claws attaching them back to your bag. “Everyone okay, I have some first aid in my...”

You were stopped in your tracks as Clarus hugged you tightly, “Mr. Amicitia?”

“I apologize for being so judgemental.”

You were confused for a moment only to look over his shoulder to his children who were struggling to hold back their laughter. “Did you two not tell him that I was trained!?”

~~~~~

Ignis

“Your Majesty please.” Ignis groaned as Noctis picked apart his meal for the evening. All the vegetables being pushed over to either his or your plates.

“Ignis, it's fine.” You cooed to your boyfriend, stroking his arm. “Noctis is a grown man and should be allowed to make his own choices.”

Ignis stared at you in confusion, only to find you give him a warm smile before starting on your own meal.

“See, Specs, at least Y/N loves me,” Noctis replied rather smugly.

“Noctis, Ignis loves you more than anything.” You giggled.

“Please don’t encourage him, Love.” Ignis sighed.

As dinner was cleared from the table, you leaned over picking up Noctis’s glass. “Noct did you enjoy your smoothie. I can make more if you want.”

“Really? Thanks, Y/N.” Noctis cheered.

“I’ll get you one too, Prompto.” You smiled moving into the kitchen where Ignis was washing dishes.

Ignis glanced as you began setting up the blender, watching as you placed in a few fruits, followed by a ton of vegetables and blending it until it appeared a pink color, topping it with a few more strawberries.

“Love, have you been...”

“Putting enough vegetables in his smoothies for the last two weeks to take down a King Behemoth? Yes, yes I have.” You smiled.

Ignis could only chuckle as you moved back out to the living room to give the two younger boys their smoothies. He knew that he loved you for a reason.

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sortasirius · 4 years ago

Note

I couldn’t choose between 14 prompts so just randomly choose one or two I suppose :): 80, 84, 57, 59, 61, 62, 64, 68, 37, 39, 26, 1, 6, 74

Hello hello! So I combined two of the prompts into one piece, which also turned out to be an angst-ridden 15x18 oneshot? So ~spoilers~ for the trailers and my general spec I guess.

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Words: 1112

Prompt me up!

Link to post

I actually really loved this so I put it on AO3 too

64. “You don’t want me to answer that”

74. “I’m scared”

Cas knows what’s coming, he can hear it, in the form of Death herself, stalking the halls of the Bunker, getting closer with each passing second. Dean is confused, he can hear the beating the place is taking outside the door Cas has locked them in. It won’t hold the Entity for long, but hopefully for long enough.

“What’s going on? Cas?”

His bright green eyes are concerned and ready for a fight in equal measure. Cas’ hands curl into fists of their own volition, he won’t let it hurt Dean. It wants him, not Dean.

“I, I made a deal. With the Empty. Looks like it’s here to…get me.”

Dean’s eyes raise in that way, that telltale way that Cas knows means he’s about to get told off.

“And why would you do something like that?”

“To save Jack, it was him or me. I chose me. It told me it wouldn’t…take me until I had let myself be happy.”

Dean looks around, incredulous.

“Well in case it hasn’t noticed, we’re fighting God. Right now is really when you’re happiest?”

Cas smiles, feeling the low burn of tears in his eyes. He doesn’t even really know why he’s crying.

“I think it was less of something that happened, and more of an acceptance. That I deserve you.”

“Deserve me?” Dean’s eyebrows have that little v-shaped pucker, the one that only appears when he’s at his most upset, “What do you mean, you’ve never not deserved me.”

Against his will, his heart flutters at those words. If it wasn’t going to take him before, it sure as hell would now.

Now is the time, it’s going to take him either way, and he doesn’t want to leave the world that has so thoroughly changed him with any regrets. So he has to say it as the Entity searches for him, he has to make it fast, and he has to make sure that Dean understands that he cannot come looking for him.

“Dean, you’ve fought for this whole world-”

“Cas we can-”

He has that look on this face, that look that Cas has only associated with an aching in his chest, a strong, almost overwhelming desire to make whatever was bothering him better, but this was one of those things that he can’t make better. He can only make infinitesimally easier.

“This was my choice, Dean. You don’t have to fight for me.”

Dean’s shoulders sink, but not in the relief that Cas expected.

“I can’t lose you, not like this.”

The words take the air out of Cas’ lungs.

“Dean-”

“We can fight this, I can fix this.”

Cas, against his better judgement, against everything he had always been taught as an angel, acting on an instinct that was only present when he was with Dean, takes a step forward and takes Dean’s face in his hands.

“I love you. I love you, but you can’t come looking for me. It’s okay.”

Dean huffs out a shaky breath.

The door splinters as the scythe hits it at its weakest point. There stands the Entity, a smile curling Billie’s borrowed mouth.

“Time to collect.”

It raises the scythe to strike him down, and Cas closes his eyes, ready for the blow, until Dean gasps and hits the floor like a ton of bricks.

The bravest, kindest human he had ever known, willing to die even for Castiel, the fallen, broken angel.

Dean’s bleeding, and Cas doesn’t even let himself think, he summons every last bit of grace he has left in his tired body and blasts the Entity back. He barely registers the ripping sensation coming from the skin of his back, he can’t dwell on it. It buys them a minute. Maybe less. Cas hauls Dean up, who clings to him like a drowning man clings to a life raft, clutching his other arm to his side. Cas tries, as they move as fast as either of their bodies will allow toward the dungeon, to muster the energy to heal Dean, or yell at him for getting in the way. He finds he can’t manage either.

They barricade the door to the dungeon. But there’s no trap in the world that can stop what’s coming for him. Cas knows that, but Dean, he can see, can’t face it.

Dean is swaying where he stands, and Cas holds onto his elbow to try and keep him upright.

“Dean,” he starts, but Dean shakes his head vigorously.

“Don’t. We’re gonna, I’m gonna get you out of this.”

“You aren’t. But that’s okay. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner.”

“Which part?” Dean’s eyes are on the floor now, always so good at avoiding what was right in front of him.

There’s a slam on the dungeon door, and little motes of dust shake down from the ceiling.

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

Cas looks at Dean, staring at his face, his eyes that are a little too red, overfilled with tears that Cas wants with everything he has to just wipe away. He had never had the desire to touch anything before Dean, and now he had to stop himself from making contact every few seconds, just to reassure himself that the man in front of him, in a beat up jacket and well-worn flannel, was real, not an elaborate illusion he had created, or someone else had created to torture him.

There’s a bang on the door, the color drains from Dean’s face as they look at each other.

“I’m scared,” the words sound childish, coming from an angel. He wasn’t supposed to feel any fear, one of the warriors of Heaven wasn’t supposed to feel anything. But he didn’t really feel like a warrior, he hadn’t for a while now, and the existential fear of being trapped in the blackness, of never seeing the man in front of him again, was crippling.

Dean swallows, refusing to acknowledge the slamming on the door except to jump a little at the creaking metal.

“Please.”

“You deserve everything, Dean. Everything that I wish I could give. I love you, I’m sorry.”

The door slams open, the hinges splintered like broken glass. Dean turns to look at the Entity, still in the form of Death, and Cas takes the opportunity to drink in every last detail that it would be a crime to forget. He supposes he won’t remember, once he’s asleep, but he doesn’t care.

Before Dean can even turn around, Cas feels the darkness consume him, one hand reaching out to touch the only person in the universe he had ever loved so fiercely.

He only catches dark, black air.

#my writing #supernatural #spn #destiel #prompts #lilly answers #anonymous #spn spec #spoilers #???? idk i dont wanna risk it

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tonydaddingham · 1 year ago

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this is going to be the speediest speculation you have ever seen in your life because it is gone 3am and im losing my mind BUT. this little snippet? from rob wilkins? well i think - i think - i found what he was referring to.

in the frame behind the bentley and aziraphale, it's clearly flooded. we know the set was built within a studio, so elemental factors can't be at play here - this is deliberate. and noone seems to notice it, but it's very neatly framed between the two.

now, let's consider references to flooding re: second coming. well, matthew was a bullseye:

"as it was in the days of noah", there will be a flood that arrives when the second coming does. it will be there before anyone knew it, and swept them away. ergo, i think we can assume that the second coming has in fact already happened (still think it's greasy but whatever)

but also look at the splitting of humanity; sound familiar to the final fifteen? one will be taken, and the other left? marrying and giving in marriage - failed in our boys' case 💀 but did nina set a timeline, saying "one day", when she's ready to be with maggie?

also - people eating and drinking? sounds familiar also, when you consider how ham they went on pushing the vol-au-vents, the tiny dinners (thanks jim) on people at the ball.

im not okay.

#good omens #s3 narrative spec #second coming/last judgement theory #im not sure where jim walking on water in that poster fits in BUT IM CERTAIN IT DOES #am i genius for spotting this? bc i feel like a genius for spotting this

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stillebesat · 5 years ago

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The Interview (3/5)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Patton, Virgil, Roman Blurb: A normal day at StoryTime! Inc. takes an unexpected turn when Logan goes to investigate why his coworkers have made a bet using Crofters as the prize. Fic Type: General, Human!AU Warnings: None

To Catch Up: Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The security guards turned to him as the elevator dinged open and shared a look of surprise as he stepped out into the foyer. Logan ignored them, his attention focused on the young man he could see through the glass entrance.

Their visitor had sat down on the bench again, his head in his hands. Why? Why not come inside?

“Uh, Specs?” Ellyn called, fingering her security badge as she followed Logan’s gaze. “Is there a problem?”

He waved her off, heading to the doors. “I’m fine, Ellyn.”

Chris, the other guard today, moved slowly to his feet, drawing the attention of everyone else passing through to what was happening. “But, Specs! You’re--”

Logan mentally rolled his eyes. “Leaving before dark, yes I know, I’ll be right back.”

It wasn’t that strange of an event. Rare yes. But according to office gossip, it was an absolute impossibility.

He wasn’t unaware of that fact that he was often painted as the resident cryptid of StoryTime!, as it appeared to everyone else that he never went home. However, Logan was quite capable of leaving the building without a) malfunctioning, b) burning up, or c) turning out to be Roman in disguise.

Still. The whispers of frantic conversation starting up in his wake didn’t concern him as he pushed open the glass doors, walking out into the Florida heat.

Logan frowned, feeling sweat already beginning to prickle on his forehead. If the boy had been out here for the entire two hours in that suit as Reese had claimed, perhaps his hunched position on the bench was more from heat exhaustion than nerves.

Or worse.

What if it was heat stroke? The boy’s inability to enter the building could be from confusion--Logan quickened his pace to reach him sooner. “Are you alright?” He asked, barely getting the question out before the boy jerked, a soft yelp leaving his lips as he tumbled backwards off the bench.

Logan reacted instinctively. Years of having to save Roman from similar predicaments giving him the proper reflexes to catch the kid by the hand before his head could hit the ground.

“Apologies” Logan said, pulling him back onto the bench. “It wasn’t my attention to startle you.” He had thought his approach quite obvious.

Perhaps Reese was right that the boy wouldn’t last long--no, he wasn’t going to judge the cover of the book, not yet. People were often nervous before interviews. Logan had been a bundle of nerves himself when he and Roman had first approached Thomas about being hired on and Roman’s portfolio had been a third of the size of the one this kid had.

“It’s...fine.” The boy--no the young man had to be in his early twenties--said, pulling his hand free, rubbing it against his pants.

An odd move. The man’s hands hadn’t been sweaty. A self soothing gesture? Or did he not like being touched?

“I highly doubt you’re fine.” Logan commented, relaxing a little as the stranger looked up with red stained cheeks, meeting his eyes with mismatched ones.

Huh. Green and Purple. Heterochromia. Unexpected, but fitting for the story boarding idea the others had tossed around upstairs. At least the pupils weren’t dilated and the man didn’t appear dazed, only embarrassed.

Logan offered a small smile, adjusting his glasses. “As it has been noted that you’ve been out here for quite some time.”

Not long enough to get heat exhaustion, thankfully.

The man stiffened, mismatched eyes flicking up to the building behind Logan before he groaned, dropping his head back into his hands. “Let me guess...they sent you out here to escort me off the property?”

Logan blinked as the young man suddenly flowed to his feet, cradling his portfolio protectively in his arms, already half turned away to the parking lot.

Had it been a mistake for him to come out here? The boy seemed quite eager to leave---No, if it wasn’t heat stroke, it had to be nerves...a lot of nerves if Logan was being mistaken for security. He wasn’t wearing anything at all like Chris or Ellyn’s uniform.

“You would be incorrect.” Logan glanced to the bulging portfolio, gesturing to it. “I merely saw you pacing and thought I could offer some assistance. Am I correct in assuming you are here for an interview?”

The man scoffed, pressing the portfolio against his chest. “Well yeah, Sherlock. Pretty sure the portfolio gave that away--” He flinched, eyes going wide. “--Wait, please don’t tell me that you’re Roman Prince and I totally just ruined this!”

Bingo.

Logan smirked, adjusting his glasses as the interviewee paled. “I’m not Roman, no.” He reassured him.

Thank Crofters for that. The world wouldn’t be able to handle having two Romans wandering about.

No, he much preferred this guy’s Sherlock comment than being mistaken for his brother.

“But your hesitancy to enter the building makes much more sense now.” Logan said, folding his arms. “He can be rather intimidating and difficult to impress when it comes to interviews.”

The interviewee ran a hand through his purple tinged hair, pushing his bangs back over his eyes, his heterochromia less visible in the shadows. “Great.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t help my nerves at all, dude. Why not just cut my agony short and tell me it’s pointless to even go in there and face him?”

It probably was. Roman was very picky about who worked with him and if they couldn’t take his figurative heat---

But this was pre-interview nerves, Patton hadn’t done much better, speaking so fast that Logan had barely been able to follow his words and now he was an integral part of StoryTime! with his ability to tell just what was needed to get their viewers to feel the intended emotions within the film.

And this man had an interview scheduled with his brother, which meant that Remy had passed him on not once but four times in the stringent pre-interview requirements that Roman had stated were necessary to keep him from ‘wasting his time.’

There was potential here.

Adjusting his tie, Logan raised an eyebrow. “I can’t give a fair judgement on that unless I can see your portfolio first.” He said, holding out his hand to the bulging portfolio. “May I?”

The man narrowed his eyes, fingers tightening on his work.

Possessive. Just like Roman when he was reluctant to share a new idea until it was ‘fully realized.’

“You’re going to be brutally honest with me?” The man asked, jaw set. “No sugar coating it just so you can see me suffer The Prince treatment inside?”

Prince Treatment? Was that what forums were calling it now?

“You have my word.” Logan said without hesitation, wiggling his fingers. “I will be honest in my assessment of your potential.” After all, he’d been Roman’s sounding board growing up. He knew what his brother would be looking for.

The man stared him down for two more full breaths before he exhaled, giving a jerk of a nod as he held out his portfolio. “Alright.”

Finally.

Reverently Logan took the man’s work, and moved to sit on the bench, gesturing with his free hand next to him. “Why don’t you sit while I look?” He invited.

Somehow, he wasn’t that surprised when the interviewee refused with a shake of his head. “I prefer to stand thanks.” He said again glancing to the parking lot.

Already expecting Logan to say no, apparently. Was the pessimism from nerves or the kid’s general outlook? He shrugged, pushing up his glasses as he flipped open to the first page, skimming over the resume, knowing that Roman would be less interested in the degree and the amount of jobs the kid had had and more focused on seeing his skills as an artist.

“So...Virgil is it?” He asked, glancing at the name at the top of the page. For all the effort Logan was putting into convincing this kid to stay long enough to see Roman, his work better be phenomenal. “Why do you want to work for StoryTime!?”

He flipped to the first piece of work which, at first glance, looked like it could have been lifted from StoryTime!’s Jericho & Apollo. Not that impressive, especially when they were looking for other styl--wait. He leaned in closer, tracing the lines of the characters with his eyes. Was this...all one unbroken line?

Virgil scoffed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit, looking as uncomfortable in it as Roman did in street clothes. “Are you interviewing me?”

“Officially? No.” Logan said absently, following every curve. It was unbroken. He couldn’t tell where Virgil had begun or ended. Logan looked up. “But a bit of practice before the actual interview doesn’t hurt now does it?”

The last time he’d tried to interfere with his brother’s hires…well...it hadn’t ended well. Logan was only intervening now out of professional curiosity--and because of the Crofters bet going on upstairs.

But his curiosity only grew as he turned to the next page, fighting not to smile at a rendition of Baby Bird Watch done only in fingerprints. Creative. Patton had mentioned wanting to try something like that on their date last week. He hadn’t thought anyone else--

Virgil licked his lips. “I...suppose not.” His mismatched eyes flicked to the building and back to Logan as he exhaled. “Well, cliche as it sounds. I’ve followed StoryTime! since the very beginning when Thomas Sanders just had his phone and Vine to work with.”

Vine? “That’s quite a while.” He remarked, keeping his tone neutral as he turned to the next page. “Most people wouldn’t know what you meant if you brought up Vine now.” He was pretty sure none of their newest hires knew of Thomas’s humble beginnings in film.

Virgil chuckled, a sound that was actually quite pleasant to the ear. “Don’t I know it.” He agreed, tense shoulders relaxing as he gave a small genuine smile. “His videos there were cheesy but good natured. The fact that Thomas could create such a positive impact in six seconds was...well it impressed me. Honestly, those videos were about the only thing that got me through some of my darkest days back then. Still do even now.”

Logan hummed in agreement. He and Roman had their own Vine compilations of Thomas that they would revisit on particularly bad days. Patton was in the middle of composing his own, having only recently been introduced to the short videos by Logan. “He does have a knack for knowing how to make people smile.”

Virgil nodded, pacing back and forth in front of Logan as he slowly thumbed through the portfolio, studying each page with an interest that he didn’t have to fake. It was deceptive. A quick glance through would make one think that Virgil had been working for StoryTime! for years, yet there was always something that set his work apart. Something that begged Logan to take more time to look at each piece than he normally would have.

He barely stopped himself from jumping as Virgil unexpectedly sat down beside him only realizing he had stopped listening to the man at that moment as Virgil tapped on a willowy version of Sir Sing-A-Lot with the bear cub from Crofters: The Musical. “Thomas kept his roots when he started StoryTime!, kept the positivity, the hopeful messages within and I just…” That small smile played on Virgil’s lips again as he brushed the edges of the page. “I admire it. I want to be a part of it. Help others like he helped me.”

Logan drew in a breath, this kid sounded so much like Roman when he talked like that. “That’s a good goal to have, Virgil.” He said, his fingers hovering over the drawing as he followed the swirls in the cubs fur. “But you are correct with it being cliche.”

More than cliche. ‘Wanting to help others like Thomas has helped me’ was practically a catch phrase in interviews. Remy and Callie had an ongoing licorice bet on how long the streak would last.

It was already very apparent that Virgil had the skills to work at StoryTime!, but there still was the question of him being able to fit in. And while Roman may not care about job history---

“However,” Logan continued, looking up. “StoryTime! prefers to hire people with the intention that they’ll stay on. We’re a FamILY here.” A phrase that Patton had coined that Thomas had immediately made their company motto. “We support each other, and would prefer to have individuals that don’t give up at the first sign of trouble.”

That was the failing point of most of Roman’s interviewees. They came in all starry eyed, expecting the work at StoryTime! to be all sunshine and petting kittens, only to end up ill-prepared to handle the pressure of deadlines or bond well with the rest of their peers. Virgil kept looking for an exit before the interview had even happened...would he be willing to stick it out through the bad moments as well as the good?

Logan adjusted his glasses, glancing from the corner of his eye to Virgil, noting that an odd look had come onto his face. It almost looked like...longing--but no, it vanished as Virgil turned to him, hands clenching. “I’m not the sort to give up after one setback, sir.” He stated, firmly. “You can believe that.”

Logan frowned. “You don’t give up--” What about all that talk of leaving? What about wanting Logan to tell him it was pointless to go in to the interview? What about-- He thumbed back to the first page, jabbing a finger at the job history. “Yet, here, it shows that you’ve held quite the series of jobs in the last six years.” He looked up, staring Virgil down. “Why is that?”

Virgil audibly swallowed, panic flashing across his face. “I--” He slumped and stood, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t give up.” He repeated, shoulders hunching to the point they nearly touched his ears. “I took most of those jobs in the first place to save up for classes to improve my drawing and animating techniques.” He mumbled, kicking at the grass. “It wasn’t my intention to stay with them long.”

Logan leaned in, watching the microexpressions on Virgil’s face as he spoke. There was more of a story there than was being told. Anger, sadness, frustration. Why had he felt the need to switch jobs so often? He’d barely lasted longer than six months in most of them. It could be a sign that he didn’t work well with others and working for StoryTime! involved a lot of collaboration. No one could lone wolf it for long here. Not even Roman despite what he proclaimed

It wasn’t a good sign. Despite his skills, Virgil would need to be a team player and it didn’t look like he could do that. Logan pursed his lips. Closing the portfolio. “I see.”

Virgil stiffened, eyes flashing with fire as he whirled to Logan, crouching down in front of him, his breath coming quick and shallow as he flipped his portfolio back open. “I’m a hard worker, sir.” He stated forcefully, keeping eye contact with Logan as he jabbed a finger at the education portion of his resume. “I don’t slack off. I don’t quit a job until it quits me first.”

Quits him first? Logan opened his mouth, surprised at the sudden turn around in Virgil’s attitude. What did--

Virgil didn’t let him say a word. “You can see here that I graduated last year with a double Bachelors in Illustration and Animation, Summa Cum Laude.”

A difficult feat. Roman had struggled to do a similar thing with Creative Writing and Illustration without the Summa Cum Laude.

“So you have.” He murmured, though he wasn’t sure Virgil heard him as the interviewee flipped through his portfolio to later pages that Logan hadn’t yet reached, stopping on an image of a dragon made from smoke.

“It took me a week to perfect this technique.” His mouth twitched upwards as he stared at the image. “I burned through two sketchbooks, singed my eyebrows, and set off four fire alarms before I could get the paper to blacken correctly and create this smokey texture.” He turned multiple pages, each showing the same technique.

Logan couldn’t help but smile at the fervor in Virgil’s tone, the light of accomplishment that danced in his eyes. It was so much like Roman’s, down to the nearly burning down of apartments. He hadn’t expected such passion to be found within--but of course, he should never have doubted that it existed. Not with how thick and varied Virgil’s portfolio was. It just needed to be encouraged, allowed to flourish.

“Or even this!” Virgil continued, flipping further back to a shimmering green basilisk. “The scales? Their shimmer?” He looked up and faltered, the fervor dying in a flash as he wilted, his cheeks again going red upon catching Logan looking at him.

“Go on.” He encouraged, hating to see the flame of passion go out as quickly as it had sprung up.

Virgil took a breath, breaking eye contact. “I-I-went to every store in the valley to find the right composite of pearlescent ink to put on these scales.” He continued, worrying his bottom lip as he kept his tone soft. “I spent hours getting it to flow just right and look.” He tilted the page, the green scales shifting to a brilliant white.

Of all the--Logan couldn’t help a gasp from escaping his lips as he took the page, brushing Virgil’s hand as he tilted the image back and forth. “Amazing.” He murmured. “A casual viewer wouldn’t know you used two different shades until they moved the page. It’s a…pleasant surprise.”

Though he didn’t know how it could be used in animation...it was a stroke of genius. Logan could easily picture his brother locking Virgil in a room with him to teach him the method. He adjusted his glasses, looking up. “Well done, Virgil.”

He ducked his head, his face getting redder. “Uh..tha--thanks.” He mumbled, pushing to his feet, rubbing his fingers against his pants as he looked away.

Huh. It didn’t seem like Virgil was used to praise if he reacted like this. Most applicants would preen and boast further about their work. And while Virgil had a clear passion for his art...it still didn’t answer how well he’d work in a group setting. Especially with Roman.

“So.” Logan said, patting the bench next to him to encourage Virgil to sit back down. “Hypothetically. If Roman were to harangue you because there is a storyboard due in fifteen minutes for presentation and you’ve drawn the main character all wrong because the MC’s look had not been made clear to you, what would you do?”

Virgil gaped at him before giving the slightest shakes of his head, cautiously sitting. “I---I um---”

“An honest answer, Virgil.” Logan said, leaning forward, watching his microexpressions intently. “Your true reaction. Not what you think I want to hear.”

Virgil hesitated, running his hand through his hair, before shrugging, a defiant flicker in his eyes. “Honestly….” He clicked his tongue, glancing to the building. “Honestly, I would call him nine types of an idiot for not checking in with me sooner to make sure I was fulfilling his vision.

Logan barely kept himself from gaping, forcing his expression to remain neutral. The boy had seemed so worried about making a bad impression on his brother, and now he was willing to call him an idiot?

But also--” Virgil grimaced, rubbing his fingers against the cuffs on his sleeves. “I would be calling myself the same names for not making more of an effort to clarify the MC’s key characteristics with him.” He gestured to the portfolio. “I would make an argument for keeping the current version, since the look of a character doesn’t have to be set in stone for storyboarding ...and if I couldn’t convince Princey to go with it then...well… I would--

“Walk out?” Logan asked, tilting his head. Others had done so for lesser reasons. Roman was as stubborn as a mule most days when it came to realizing his vision---

“Wha--no!” Virgil jerked his attention back to Logan, eyes wide. “For how hard I’ve worked to get here I wouldn’t walk over something like that! I want this! My dream of working here is the only reason I---” Virgil huffed, tugging at the collar of his suit. “If Princey remains as stubborn and perfectionistic as the forums paint him then I would fix the MC’s design. If I had drawn it on the computer, I would simply sketch a couple of quick replacements and copy/paste. Easy enough.”

Easy enough? Logan had seen more experienced artists yell at Roman that what he wanted was impossible and this kid was saying---”Easy enough indeed.” He murmured, fighting back a smile as he flipped through the portfolio, pausing at a market scene similar to the original Aladdin. “And if it had been hand drawn?” He asked. Storyboarding wasn’t as difficult as the main animation, but the boy had emphasized computer sketches. “Roman usually likes the first storyboard presentation to be drawn on paper first.”

Virgil made a face. “Of course he does.” He said under his breath, barely loud enough for Logan to hear. “If that’s the case--” He exhaled. “It would be a nightmare to redo, but I would make it work.” His lips twitched as he ran his fingers through his hair, mismatched eyes glimmering with mischief. “Though I would be calling Princey a variety of bad nicknames under my breath the entire time I was redrawing to make myself feel better.”

Logan covered his mouth with his hand, failing to hide the laugh that burst from his lips. If what the kid said was true, he may end up being just as stubborn as his brother. “I hope that they would be creative.” He remarked.

Roman would be offended at anything...simple.

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, again giving that warm laugh. “Considering my past track record with nicknaming, I’m sure I could come up with a few good one--Oh hey!” He snapped his fingers, standing. “Come to think of it.” He pulled out a battered phone. “I actually had to do a similar scenario to yours in my second year of college.” He confessed, showing Logan the cracked screen, swiping quickly through a mosaic of stained storyboards.

“Half an hour before our final project was due for presentation, a cotton-headed ninny muggins spilled their stale coffee all over my group’s storyboard we’d spent the last month working on and we had to quickly draw replacements.”

A group project? So Virgil could work with others. “Really?” He asked, quickly taking the phone to scroll through the images himself, pausing at the ones that showcased the worst of the coffee stains, but at the same time, showed Virgil with four others. The members of his group if Logan wasn’t mistaken.

There was also no question that most of their work had been ruined, Logan couldn’t help but wince in sympathy. “I’ve been there myself.” He said, smoothing down his tie. Though he had had three days to fix his project instead of half an hour. It had been a nightmare. He paused, studying the replacements. “How did you do on this project, after the redraws, if I may ask?” The new sketches still had most of their cohesiveness, showing that the group had worked together to merge their styles, but Logan could still pick out quirks, slightly differentiating each artist from the other. The question was...which of these were Virgil’s?

Virgil shrugged, gesturing offhandedly, ducking his head. “We managed an A-” He said, his tone tinged with pride.

An A- after all that? Logan whistled, handing back the phone. “Impressive. And out of the ruined ones, how many did you personally redraw?”

“How man--ummm” Virgil chewed his bottom lip, frowning down at his phone, his fingers tapping against his thigh. “Me, personally...I took around twenty.”

Logan straightened. “Twenty?” He repeated, not sure he’d heard correctly. “In half an hour?”

Virgil flushed, nodding as he kicked at the grass. “Yah. I was the quickest at the line art in that group. The other four divided up the remaining thirty between them.”

Logan blinked, mentally calculating before giving a soft laugh. “Once again, Virgil. Impressive.”

The young man’s face went even more red as he hunched his shoulders, looking at the ground. “It wasn’t--well….um...Thanks.”

He definitely wasn’t used to receiving compliments.

“It is impressive, Virgil.” Logan repeated, leaning forward with a smile, wishing he hadn’t handed the phone back so soon so he could recheck the images. At least he still had the portfolio in his hands. “Not many people here could do such a quick turn around after such a disaster.”

Even his brother wouldn’t have been as quick. He thumbed through more of the artwork, stopping at a Sallyized version of Jack Skellington and smirked. Oh. He recognized this particular image. Had Remy known--- probably not.

Logan looked up tapping the picture. “Nor would many dare to call Roman an idiot to his face. He could probably use more of an ego check.” Crofters knew how often Logan had had to do it to his brother. Most of the company worshiped the ground Roman walked on.

Virgil offered his own conspiratorial smile, spreading his arms. “Well, I’m sure I could give Princey that ego check if needed. I’m quite used to being the villain.”

A villain? Logan jerked his eyes to Virgil’s mismatched ones, searching his face, looking for any hint as to why the young man before him would refer to himself as such.

Virgil paled under his scrutiny, his eyes widening with fear, his hands lowering as his feet shifted.

Preparing to run.

Logan couldn’t let that happen, not when he didn’t know the full story.

“Your drawing style is rather unique compared to StoryTime!’s usual stuff.” He said instead, tilting his head down to the portfolio in his hands.

The portfolio he knew Virgil would not leave. Not from how possessive he’d been of it in the beginning.

“You tend to draw in darker color schemes, use thinner lines, and showcase typically good characters as your villains. He flipped back through the portfolio to point out a Princess dressed in green and black, holding a fractured scepter before turning the page to a thin angular baker pulling skull cookies out of the oven. “While using the typical hero shapes of circles and squares on your villains.” He gestured to a square jawed vampire, pulling children from a burning home.

It was an odd take, a different take. Very different from StoryTime!’s usually brighter motif. “Why do you think this sort of thing could be a fit for StoryTime!?”

Virgil clenched his shaking hands, drawing in a shallow breath, focusing in on the artwork Logan held. “There’s--” He swallowed, clearing his throat. “There’s been a surge in people empathizing with the bad guys recently.” He said, quietly. “Wanting to know their backstory, see what caused them to go...well…” He shrugged. “Bad.” He cautiously sat next to Logan on the bench. “Even Disney’s caught onto that fact.”

Really? Logan hummed, nodding for Virgil to continue, intrigued by the explanation. “Go on.”

The young man licked his lips as he reached out, flipping through the pages to a different series of works, all villains.

“You can see it with Disney choosing to retell Sleeping Beauty with Maleficent’s backstory as the main focus.” He said, gesturing to a softer smaller version of Maleficent in her dragon form, curled around a broken spindle. “They already have firm plans to do a similar thing with 101 Dalmatians and Cruella and maybe with Ursula in the Little Mermaid or the Evil Queen in Snow White. It’s a trend that StoryTime! should jump onto and take charge of.”

That was true. With their live action retellings of their older tales, Disney had given more life to their villains, giving them a richer background that hadn’t been explored before. Even Patton had been taken by the altered version of Sleeping Beauty, empathizing with Maleficent’s plight.

Virgil tapped his portfolio as Logan stayed silent. “Because no one and I mean No. One. Else. is better at turning tropes on their heads than StoryTime! is.”

Ha. Logan smiled fondly. Thomas had a knack for that for sure. Gaining sympathy, proving points. Roman struggled sometimes with the black and white mentality, but Thomas? Yes. Thomas had that vision to think outside the box.

Virgil gestured to the building. “From the very beginning, you’ve twisted plots into unexpected directions, created morally grey characters that the audience should expect to hate, only for them to come out of the theaters ardent supporters of them, praising your plotlines and attention to details and I...”

He looked up, faltering as he caught Logan’s intent gaze and jerked his hand back, flushing once more.

“And you?” Logan asked, keeping his tone gentle. He could see the fire within Virgil. See his passion for StoryTime! It just needed to be fanned a little more. Allowed to flourish.

Virgil looked away, placing his hands in his lap. “And I think telling stories from the villain's point of view could be StoryTime!’s next big break and…” He bit his lip, taking a steadying breath as he looked back up. “I would love to be a part of it, if given the chance.”

Logan nodded thoughtfully, slowly closing the portfolio, holding it lightly in his hands as he stared at StoryTime!’s front doors.

If given a chance.

His artwork proved Virgil was more than capable. His apparent quick turnaround when a problem arose was impressive. His willingness to put Roman in his place, refreshing. And yet---what would his brother think? Would Roman even see the Jack Skellington that he’d had spent hours fawning over to Logan when he’d first come across it online?

No. If Virgil didn’t give off the right impression, didn’t show his confidence. His brother would dismiss him without a thought, sending potentially refreshing talent out the door.

Virgil fidgeted, his shoes scuffing against the rocks, pulling Logan from his thoughts. “Well?” He asked, holding out his hand to take his portfolio back. “Do you think I have a chance in my interview with Princey?”

Logan made no move to return Virgil’s work. Instead slowly looking up, meeting his eyes.

This could be exactly what the company needed, and Logan wasn’t willing to leave it up to chance. Leave it up to his brother.

“Virgil.” He said quietly. “I’m going to have to say-”

Virgil tensed, shoulders already hunching, expecting rejection.

Logan gave him a warm smile. “That you’re hired.”

To Be Continued Chapter 4

Taglist in reblog

#The Interview #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Logan #Virgil #Logic #Anxiety #interview nerves #nervousness #StoryTime!

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scribbles97 · 4 years ago

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Left Behind -- Chapter 15

All I’m saying about this chapter is... I apologise for nothing.

PART 1 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19 / Chapter 20 / Chapter 21

Read on Ao3

“A word?” Kyrano murmured as Lucy stepped into the kitchen from the pool. She had seen his plane come in whilst she had been on her late afternoon jog around the island and she wondered just what news he had that warranted him flying out to discuss it with her.

“My office,” She nodded, “The boys are all home.”

“I’d noticed,” He smiled briefly, “I thought you’d enjoy their company.”

Snorting, she smiled, “It gives me peace of mind knowing where they all are at the moment. Let’s leave it at that.”

He nodded wordlessly as he followed her up the stairs and through the lounge to the quiet corner that housed her office. She was glad that they only passed Virgil on their way there, perhaps the least likely to question what the pair were up to.

Closing the door, Lucy swallowed, “So? I didn’t think you’d fly all the way out here just to say hi.”

He shook his head as he leant on the corner of her desk, “There are some things that require a more personal touch, you should know that Lucille.”

She did know it. She also knew Kyrano and how he had softened in the last few years. The loss of Jeff had hit him hard, blame consuming him until he had taken some time away to reset. He had come back a fresh man, calmer, quieter, always listening and only saying whatever needed to be heard. His role on the island had been taken over by Tanusha, security of Tracy Island and its fleet of Thunderbirds all on her shoulders against Lucy's better judgement. She seemed happy in the role though, and Lucy trusted both her and Kyrano’s opinions enough to allow them to work as they pleased.

“I am afraid there has been more chatter,” He sighed, folding his arms as he watched her, “Gaat apparently already has an assailant.”

Sinking down in the armchair in the corner of the room, she couldn’t help but wince. They had been counting on time, a chance to intercept any potential assailants before Gaat got his hands on them.

“Name? Details?” She shrugged, “Do we even know what for yet?”

“He called himself the Mechanic.” Kyrano nodded, “It is the next part that you’ll like less though.”

She didn’t say anything, knowing that he would tell her soon enough. Kyrano knew better than to keep her waiting.

Producing a holotablet from his pocket, he set it down on the smooth surface of the desk, swiping over its screen brought up a clip that Lucy immediately recognised.

Four years later she hadn’t forgotten what the Zero-X had looked like.

Frowning at the hologram she stood, stepping forward to look closer, “Is that…”

He nodded once, “A different angle.”

She watched with wide eyes, unable to turn away as the camera moved away from the body of the stricken ship. The screen froze for a moment as Kyrano pointed to a second capsule in the other corner of the screen, “Gaat escaped the ship in this escape pod. What we didn’t realise was that a second pod launched at the same time.”

Shaking her head she didn’t take her eyes from the screen, waiting, needing, more, “So? What is it? Why are you showing this to me?”

He said nothing more as the clip resumed, but she knew what came next. It was the blast that had killed Jeff. She had settled on that years ago, looking at it again couldn’t, wouldn’t, change that.

The flash filled the screen and froze before the blast could reach its full expansion. Kyrano swept at the image, manipulating and clarifying it until the outline of the Zero-X was clear. She found herself holding her breath, not daring to move as she gripped the edge of the desk, waiting, watching, silently hoping.

It was slowed down, so much slower than it had actually happened, but still so perfectly clear. As the explosion expanded, the outline of the ship moved up the screen, out of the range of the camera on the escape pod. It kept going as the smoke filled the image, right up until the highlighted outline of the Zero-X left the hologram.

“What is this?” She whispered as the film cut to a blank, finally able to look away.

Kyrano watched her for a long moment, lips pursed as he opened a new file, “Brains, you can come in now.”

Lucy turned, frowning as her chief scientist stepped into the room pushing his glasses up his nose.

“H-h-hello, Mrs Tracy.”

She nodded, in acknowledgement, unsure as to what he was doing on the island, “Hiram.”

He hated the island. She had asked him to move out there as a full time advisor plenty of times yet he had always so politely refused, insisting he found the quiet hum of the city soothing to his overactive mind.

“Brains,” Kyrano started, “Would you please explain to Lucille what we previously discussed.”

“O-of course,” He nodded, hesitating, biting his lip as he reached for the tablet, “I see M-m-mister Kyrano has already sh-shown you the new footage?”

Mute, Lucy nodded.

“The image is unclear, and there is no way to improve its r-r-resolution. However, we do b-believe that the outline of the Zero-X can be made out leaving the sh-shot. F-from the flight data recovered from the pod, and the camera angle we c-c--can assume the Zero-X continued on a trajectory much like this.”

Lines appeared on the diagram, blue for the escape pod, red for the ship.

Red kept going.

Hiram kept talking.

Something about the power of engines, weight of the ship, what had been expected of the test flight versus what had actually happened.

“Wait,” She raised a hand, cutting him off with a shake of her head, “Sorry Hiram. Just-- I-- Spell it out for me.”

Hiram looked from her to Kyrano and back again, eyes wide, “Erm… well… there is no way to confirm it at this time, but this n-n-new footage indicates that there is a possibility that the launch of the Zero-X m-m-may have been successful.”

Looking from one man to the other, she swallowed hard, “You mean…”

Kyrano nodded, one single movement, “There’s a possibility the Zero-X made it into deep space, potentially with Jeff on board.”

As much as she wanted to believe it, she knew she couldn’t. It had been too long. Four years was too much. She was at peace with what she knew, had come to terms with having to live without him.

“No.” She swallowed, “Don’t do this to me Kyrano. Don’t put me through all of this again.”

“Lucy,” He scolded gently, frowning at her negativity. Gesturing back towards the diagram, he smiled, “He could be out there, Jeff could be alive.”

She could see the science, understand how the conclusion had been drawn. What use was it though? There were so many variables, too many unknowns. She wasn’t even sure about the specs of the Zero-X’s engine. Maybe Jeff was alive, but they had no way of knowing for sure and no way of possibly finding out.

The knowledge that she may never know for sure hurt more than grief ever had.

Biting her lip, she shook her head, “No. Why bring it up? What do you expect me to do with his information? You came here to tell me about Gaat and his mechanic. What has he got to do with this?”

Kyrano smiled slowly, reaching out to her shoulder and holding her in place as he met her eye, “They’re building a second Zero-X, Lucy. A new ship with the same drive as the one in Jeff’s accident. We get our hands on one of those and we have a chance at finding out if Jeff is still out there.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. There weren’t any words. For so long she hadn’t wanted to believe that he could have possibly been dead. Finally, four long years later there was the possibility that he was alive.

But only a possibility.

Space flight still had its risks, without being flung into the far reaches of space without any preparation or resources.

Even if he had survived the launch, there were so many possibilities.

There was only one way to find out though, a single way to know for sure what had become of her husband.

A deep breath, thoughts focussed, she looked to the hologram with a new pair of eyes.

“What did you have in mind?”

Kyrano smiled, “We talk to this Mechanic, see if we can get him on our side.”

Worst case scenario immediately came to mind.

“And if we can’t?”

“We steal their new Zero-X.”

#thunderbirds are go #Thunderbirds 2015 #Thunderbirds AU #Lucy AU #Lucille Tracy #Kyrano #Brains Hackenbacker #scribbles writes #Left Behind Part 2

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bgn846 · 4 years ago

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Worthy Chapter 5: Denial FFXV A/B/O Promnis

<Previous Chapter 4 “You think I’ve what?!” Ignis sputtered over his morning coffee. “That is preposterous. How on earth did you come up with that, Gladio?” He asked leaning forward over his neat but cluttered desk.

The shield smiled. “Sana and I were chatting last night, and she mentioned that Prompto may have imprinted on you.”

Ignis was still in shock by the very idea. He hadn’t heard of an omega imprinting on anyone in years. “That sounds barbaric,” he uttered finally as he retrieved his phone to open his calendar.

“Clearing your schedule so you can research imprinting, are we?” Gladio asked with a smirk.

Huffing, Ignis rolled his eyes at the shields antics. “You already know the answer: I must know what I’m dealing with so I can better prepare.”

Gladio furrowed his brow. “Um, what exactly would you be preparing for?”

“If I knew that, Gladiolus, then I wouldn’t need to research, now would I?” Ignis answered curtly.

The shield smiled. “Will you at least admit you acted differently around Prompto when he was here?”

Pausing and thinking on Gladio’s statement, Ignis did know he’d taken more care than normal in dealing the omega. “Yes, I will concede that I have been somewhat affected by Prompto’s visit. If my research proves Sana’s theory correct then I will . . . .” Ignis trailed off.

“Uh – you will what?”

“I will go rescue him from the frozen hell that is Niflheim and share my closet! Gladio, I don’t know! Go away, I need to work, and you’re filling my head with ideas of domestic bliss.” Ignis huffed.

This statement elicited a bark of laughter from the shield as he stood to leave. “Fine, I’ll leave you to it, but will you at least let me know what you find out? Honestly, I’m sorta jealous you get to experience this and not me.”

“Come now, Gladio. You and Sana are made for each other. I know you had a rocky start, but she loves you dearly. She’ll even be moving here in a couple months. That’s more than I can say for my nonexistent pack.”

“The invite still stands if you want into ours. Sana thinks you’re cute.”

“I have considered the idea, but I think your pack has the perfect dynamic right now.” Ignis smiled. “Now get out of my office.” He made a shooing motion in Gladio’s direction in hopes he’d leave.

As he watched Gladio go, Ignis felt a funny feeling tumble through his stomach. Was he actually getting butterflies thinking about Prompto? He promptly postponed his next meeting and hunkered down at his computer to find out.

“Noct!!” Prompto whined over the phone. “What am I going to do? I’ve ruined everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, Prompto. Stop freaking out. I swear to you, Ignis isn’t upset. You can still send a reply, and he won’t mind the delay. I promise,” Noct tried.

“But it’s been two weeks since he sent it! I was too scared to reply. How dumb is that? He asks if I’m okay, and if I had any trouble, and I ignore him.”

“I’ve known him most of my life, Prompto, and I’m telling you it’s fine. Send him a text back. He’ll answer you. What’s the worst that can happen?”

The blond couldn’t help himself as he blurted an answer. “He bans you from having contact with me, and I die lonely and depressed.” Prompto couldn’t help but be dramatic. It’d been two whole weeks since his return from Lucis, and he was missing it every day. It would absolutely gut him to not be able to talk to Noct. Having a friend helped ease the sorrow of everyday life.

“I’m going to have him call you if you’re not careful, buddy.”

“Wha – No! I’ll text – I promise, don’t have him call me. I’ll die for sure if he calls me,” he stammered.

“I expect a full report later on what he wrote back.”

Prompto sighed. “Now you are being silly. He won’t answer me.” He could hear Noct huff. It wasn’t like he understood what life was like as a male omega. Nothing went your way.

“I’ll remain optimistic for you, then. Hey, I gotta go; I need to attend some super stuffy council meeting. Can I call you later when I finish?”

“Yeah, for sure. I’m not going anywhere.” The call ended as they both said their goodbyes. Now to the matter at hand. What to write back to Ignis?

Opting to keep it simple Prompto, opened his messenger app to type out a reply. Glancing at the unanswered message from Ignis he winced. Why did he wait so long! The advisor had only wished to know if he had arrived safely.

Prompto Argentum 10:18AM: Thank you for checking in on me and I am safe.

Before he could chicken out, he hit the send button. Tossing the phone further away, he curled up on his bed and groaned. Why was this so difficult? It was conversation, pure and simple. A pinging noise made him bolt upright and stare incredulously at his phone. There was no way Ignis had texted him back. It must have been from Noct.

Reaching out slowly as if his phone might bite him, he flipped it over. A response from the Ignis Scientia was waiting. Prompto’s brain took this moment to spring into action. What if he was writing back to tell him he was not allowed to talk to Noct anymore? Fearful of what the text might say, he didn’t open it for another ten minutes.

Finally, though, latching onto Noct’s previous words of encouragement, he took a deep breath and opened the message.

Ignis Scientia 10:20AM: Excellent. I’m very happy to hear you are safe. Do let me know if you need anything in the future.

Prompto looked at his phone with wide eyes. Okay, he’d written back and left it open ended. Now what? Should he reply? He wished Noct was available so he could ask what to do. Was Ignis simply being polite or was he supposed to say something?

Shoving his phone away a second time, he got up and started pacing his room. A full thirty minutes later, he made the decision to answer back.

Prompto Argentum 10:50AM: Thanks I will. I hope your day is going well.

Again, he hit send quickly and waited. He knew his chances of having Ignis reply right away were slim, but he still held out hope. Apparently the astrals were being kind and granted his wish.

Ignis Scientia 10:53AM: Aside from sitting in a dreadfully boring meeting at the moment, my day has been splendid.

Prompto knew from Noct that Ignis usually attended the same meetings as the prince. Did this mean that Ignis was texting him while he was working? Did the meeting end early? Curiosity got the better of him, and he texted his friend.

Prompto Argentum 10:55AM: Are you still in your meeting?

Noctis Lucis Caelum 10:57AM: Yes, can’t talk yet. :(

Did this mean Ignis was in a different meeting, or was he actually trying to communicate while he was working? Worried his texting would get Ignis in trouble, he wrote back a reply.

Prompto Argentum 11:04AM: Did your meeting get out yet?

Ignis Scientia 11:06AM: I’m afraid it’s still droning on. I do have an amusing view; Noctis is struggling to stay awake. I would send you a photo, but it would blow my cover.

Prompto squealed out loud when he read the response. Ignis was at the same meeting, but he could text him and Noctis couldn’t! The blond wondered if it had anything to do with him being an alpha. He would have to ask Noct about it later.

Prompto Argentum 11:07AM: lol I wish I could be there to see it in person.

Surprisingly, Ignis texted him a few more times, and then things went silent. Either Ignis got in trouble or he needed to focus. Prompto hoped it was the latter. Ignis was so nice, and he didn’t want him to get reprimanded for texting a lowly omega.

The blond was about to text Noct when heard his mother call him. Wandering down the hall, he found her staring at a fancy invitation card.

“Dear, do you know who Lady Pravus is?” she asked curiously.

The memories of Noct’s story regarding Lady Pravus, from the night of the banquet, came flooding back. “Yeah – why?” he mumbled.

His mother seemed shocked that he knew of her. “I’ve never met her nor heard of her until now. How do you know her name?”

“When I stayed with Noct, he told me about her. She’s not very nice,” he added quickly.

“Oh, well, you don’t know that for sure,” she chided. “I’m sure she’s fine. Your step brothers aren’t that bad when it comes to judgement of character.”

This really confused Prompto. “Mum, what are you talking about?”

“Oh, sorry, I’ve just received this invitation to attend a dinner in celebration of the upcoming engagement for Alban.”

Prompto interrupted his mother, “Alban is going to marry that icky lady?! Oh no, that’s not good.”

“Prompto! That is no way to behave when you haven’t even met her.”

“No, believe me, mum. Noct told me stories about her, and she’s a really terrible person. Alban shouldn’t marry her. Bad things will happen,” he urged. “Please believe me.”

She sighed but maintained a knowing look. “I will wait to meet her before I pass judgement. You will have a chance as well, as you’ve been invited to come along.” Soliamare smiled. “A fancy dress party, how lovely. I do miss going out and getting dressed up.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His mum was seriously excited about this evil lady coming to visit. “When is the dinner?”

“Tomorrow evening. I must make sure my dress still fits. It’s been so long since I’ve had occasion to wear it.”

Prompto watched his mum turn and happily go to her room to check her closet. Astrals, this was bad. He had to talk to Noct.

“Specs we have a problem!” Noct hissed as he shoved Ignis into a comfy armchair. “Remember that horrible woman, Saeva Pravus?”

Ignis visibly grimaced at the mention of her name. “If she is harassing you in some manner, I shall put a stop to it immediately.”

“No, its worse!” He huffed plopping down on the couch opposite his advisor. “I spoke with Prompto an hour ago and snaky is trying to marry his stepbrother!”

“Firstly, Noctis I would advise you to refrain from getting in the habit of using nicknames like that. You may accidentally let it slip in public. Secondly, which brother?”

“You have to ask? Alban of course, she wants to be queen.”

“Tell me everything you know,” Ignis requested with a look of determination.

Noct spent the next ten minutes outlining what Prompto had told him. The prince could see Ignis working through all the details as he went along. Finally, when he’d finished, he waited to hear what his advisor had to say.

“I dare say that is bad news indeed. You mentioned the dinner was planned for tomorrow evening, correct?”

“Yeah, what are we going to do?”

“Hmmfff, I don’t know that we can do anything at this point, Noct, aside from gather information.” Ignis stood abruptly and pulled out his phone. “I must go and think on this further. Call me immediately if you hear any additional information.”

“Hey! What should I tell Prompto? He’s not sure what to do.”

“Tell him to be very careful, and under no circumstances should he be alone with her. Do you understand?”

Noct nodded and watched his advisor turn to leave the suite. He thought back to one of the first times he’d met Lady Pravus. She’d cornered him several years ago at a party. He shuddered to think what would have happened if Ignis hadn’t saved him. He didn’t know about her methods for entrapping people then. He’d been too young.

Apparently, she would make a rather forceful advance in private. Then, depending on what she wanted, she would threaten to accuse her target of sexual misconduct. Heaven help you if you tried to shove her away - that would turn into one hell of a scandal.

He grabbed his phone to call Prompto. The prince wanted to warn him about her tactics. He didn’t care what happened to King Alban so much, but Prompto didn’t deserve that.

Prompto fidgeted with his cuff as his mother and he walked over to the party. The main government building didn’t have fancy dining facilities, so most events took place at the great hall inside King Alban’s residence. He was beyond nervous, especially after what Noct had told him regarding Lady Saeva. His plan was to stay glued to his mother’s side for the whole event. That way he would be safe.

He wasn’t even sure why he’d been invited; no one really cared if he was there or not. Then Prompto realized the truth: if he wasn’t there to escort his mother, then one of his icky step-brothers would have to do it. The real reason behind his presence made his chest ache; his mother didn’t deserve such disrespect.

He’d already tried to persuade his mother to bail, but she was adamant about attending. Prompto knew if he outright refused that she would go alone. He couldn’t do that to his mother.

The party was in full swing when they arrived, and Prompto could tell some of his step-brothers had started drinking early. Great, this was going to be interesting. Thank the astrals he didn’t have to sit anywhere near them during dinner. He was even spared having to look at Lady Saeva. She was seated on the same side as Prompto but at the opposite end of the long table. This didn’t stop his mother from craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the woman that seemed to have stolen Alban’s heart.

Alban stood up at one point to make a boring toast. He was a terrible speech writer, and Prompto didn’t understand why he never asked for help. Could someone be so proud that they’d rather look stupid? It was so strange.

Feeling a light pinch to his arm, the blond looked over to his mother. She had that look - the one that was silently chastising him for ignoring the king. Attempting to smile, he focused on looking cheerful. Alban stopped rambling shortly after, and Prompto bumped his mother’s arm. “The dinners over. Can we go now?” he whispered.

“No!” she exclaimed. “I wish to meet Lady Saeva.”

Groaning, Prompto frowned. “Why, I’ve already told you about her.”

“We’ve been over this already, dear.” Soliamare sighed. “Don’t test me.”

“Fine,” he huffed. Prompto reluctantly got up and followed his mother as she sought out the future queen. He had to give his mum credit; she did know how to part a crowd. Trailing in her wake, they were eventually standing in front of Lady Saeva. She was stunning in person, but Prompto was still scared to even talk to her.

She turned and smiled demurely to his mother. A useless conversation about dinner followed. Prompto watched in near disbelief as Lady Saeva laid on the charm so thick it was almost suffocating. His mother fell for it hook, line, and sinker. He assumed she would ignore him as everyone else did. However, she finally turned her attention to him.

The blond could have sworn he saw Lady Saeva’s lip curl ever so slightly. It was at this terrible moment that he realized Noct forgot to mention one very important fact: Lady Saeva was an alpha.

Shit.

He could see her nostrils flaring minutely; she was working to identify his dynamic. Figures Alban wouldn’t have given her any information before the party. Instead of approaching him to shake his hand, she kept her distance. It was as if she’d been expecting something else entirely. Lady Saeva was uneasy about something, and Prompto couldn’t figure it out.

Turning towards his mother, Lady Saeva spoke finally. “Oh my, I do need to say goodbye to my friends before they leave,” she announced. “Do forgive me. I’ll find you later and we can finish our talk.” The whole interaction reeked of insincerity.

Trying to calm his nerves was hard as Prompto waited for her to get out of earshot. “Mum, can we go please?” he pleaded in a hushed tone.

“What? No, I must stay. She wants to talk with me again,” she breathed excitedly. “Won’t it be nice to have another female around? I am terribly outnumbered these days.”

Prompto bit his lip. He really wanted to grab his mother by her shoulders and tell her that Lady Saeva was lying. She had found an excuse to leave and took it. There was no intent to come back.

“I must go freshen up while she’s busy. I’ll be right back,” Soliamare announced.

There was no time to even protest as his mother took off for the powder room. Suddenly, Prompto felt very anxious. He didn’t want to be here in the first place, and now he was alone. The idea came to him to hide in the ballroom across the hall. It wasn’t in use for the party, so he could rest in peace.

Scurrying to the corner of the room, he quietly slipped out the door and into the empty space. Finally, he could breathe. It was dark, but he could still see well enough with the moonlight filtering in through the large windows.

The sound of a door creaking open caused Prompto to turn in a panic. There in the soft light was Lady Saeva.

“I thought I saw you slip in here,” she crooned. “Come here so I can get a better look at you, omega ,” she ordered.

Prompto remained frozen in place. He didn’t want to go near her, and no manner of influenced alpha speech was going to make him.

“Oh, you’re going to fight me. I suppose then I’ll have to come to you.”

Finding that his throat had gone dry, Prompto watched her slowly saunter over. The future queen didn’t stop until she was a few inches from his face.

“I can’t have you disobeying me, omega. That simply won’t do. When I order you to do something, I expect you to act. Is that understood?”

Surprisingly, Prompto’s brain managed a nonverbal response despite his frozen vocal cords. A small shake of his head shook his blond locks.

“Oh, a rebel. How cute,” she breathed. “It doesn’t matter. I will break you, omega, and I will enjoy every second. Perhaps I’ll start right now,” she mused.

Prompto heard the rustle of fabric, and then something pointy was being held to his stomach. He was too scared to look down, but he was pretty sure it was a knife.

“Now hold still while I see what you taste like,” she hissed as she leaned forward to sniff his neck.

A small strangled noise left his mouth, but he didn’t dare push her away. She could easily stab him in his gut and claim he’d been the one to make an advance. Then a door slammed, and Lady Saeva backed away immediately, hiding her knife once more.

She turned to face whoever had come in. “Who’s there?” she demanded.

Prompto didn’t wait to find out and bolted. He couldn’t hear anything aside from his beating heart as he rushed out of the room. If Lady Saeva called after him, he didn’t hear it. He needed to go, but he had to find his mother first.

Soliamare was waiting just outside the main dining room, looking for Lady Saeva no doubt. “Oh, there you are,” she said cheerfully as he approached. However, when Prompto was closer, she furrowed her brow in concern. “Dear heart, what has happened to you? You’re shaking and have gone pale as a ghost.”

“I –I don’t feel good, mum, can we please go home? I might throw up,” he added, hoping it would make her act. Luckily, it did, and within minutes he was tightly gripping his mother’s arm and walking back home. He had so much to tell Noct, but what could his friend do to help? He was a kingdom away and had his own duties to handle.

Maybe he could lock himself in his room until this was all over, though he suspected his mother wouldn’t allow it. His mother ended up making him tea and sitting with him on the couch. He felt safe right then, but he was terribly concerned it wouldn’t last. He hadn’t breathed a word of what had happened, but he worried his mum wouldn’t believe him anyway. Instead, he tried to calm down and eventually drifted off clinging to her.

“He’s an omega! Why wasn’t I informed?” Saeva hissed as she paced Alban’s sitting room. “I refuse to marry you with him in residence.”

“Why? He’s harmless,” Alban defended. “What are you afraid of?”

“That blond haired brat could bear a child and threaten your claim to the throne! I won’t allow that to happen.”

“What, Prompto have kids? Nah, he’s not even got a mate.”

Saeva looked offended. “Astrals, that’s worse. He could produce bastard children left and right. Do you want an omegan whore associated with your family name? I would think not. You must deal with this.”

“How exactly should I ‘deal’ with it?” he huffed. “If I sent him away would that make you happy?”

“He’d still be out there, and he could come back anytime to threaten your title.”

“He’s thirteenth in line, Saeva. Even if he had kids, they wouldn’t ever be near the throne!”

“That’s not true! If none of your other idiotic brothers wed and we don’t conceive, then one of his offspring could inherit. That is unacceptable. I will not let your royal name be sullied by his likes.”

“I still don’t know what you want me to do about it.” Alban frowned. “What’s left? Death? Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?”

Saeva narrowed her eyes at Alban. “I won’t marry you unless he’s gone . . . unless you’re too much of a coward to deal with that sort of thing,” she replied innocently.

“I’m no coward,” Alban shouted. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Good. Now, I’ve got a splitting headache, and I wish to retire early. Lunch tomorrow, love?” She smiled sweetly.

Alban grinned and bowed as she left. Now to figure out what to do about Prompto.

“Are you certain he didn’t see you?” Ignis asked for a second time.

“Yes, positive. No one saw me; I’m trained to not be seen,” Nyx replied as he leaned forward in his chair.

Ignis sat at his desk in deep thought. Nyx’s report had been very disturbing; Lady Saeva had made an open threat against Prompto. He had to work fast. Things were in motion that he had little control over. “She said that she’d break him?”

“Yeah, it was grade A creepy shit, Ignis. I had to work hard not to warp over and stick her with my dagger.”

“I would have found a way to make it work,” Ignis pondered quietly.

“I wasn’t sure what was going to happen after I slammed the door, but blondie took the cue and ran away like greased lightning. I made sure to follow him and the queen back home. They made it safely.”

“Nyx, I am eternally grateful for your help in this matter, and I fear what Lady Saeva’s next step might be. We may need to act in a slightly unorthodox method to combat her,” Ignis admitted.

“I’m all for unorthodox; sign me up.” Nyx grinned.

>Next Chapter 6

#ffxv #fanfic #prompto #ignis #promnis

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nikatyler · 5 years ago

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Felt like doing some replies the ~ old fashioned ~ way. I should be packing, but I don’t wanna. One good thing about this semester is that I don’t have classes on Monday morning, which means I don’t have to go to Prague on Sunday. But I’ll be once again going home late on Friday -_- Oh well. Maybe I could skip the lecture every once in a while to go home on Thursday afternoon.

I’m scared. Not really of what I’ll have to learn because I know that even if it’s difficult, I’ll probably get it in my brain in the end. Somehow. I’m more scared that once again, I’ll be left alone. I haven’t really found a stable friend group. I mean, I talk to some people sometimes, but I wouldn’t call it a friendship. One friend that I thought I could rely on doesn’t even bother saying hello to me anymore. I don’t know what I did to him, he just stopped talking to me. But maybe it’s for the best. Even when we still talked, I couldn’t believe how judgemental he was, and I often wondered if he talks about me like that too when I can’t hear it. He probably did. Oh well, I’ll see what I can do. I hope I’ll run into someone who is kinda like my best friend from high school.

As for sims stuff, I know I still owe some things to some people and I feel bad about it. You’ll get it eventually. I’m actually looking forward to doing it too. Makeovers are fun. I’d also like to release some more sims, I have one more sim dump and then some old legacy characters I want to share, plus some BC contestants that didn’t make it. They like to get eliminated in the first rounds.

Also, thanks for the comments on my mental health update post. I’ll see how this turns out and if it doesn’t get any better (I’m kinda hoping that better weather brings better mood, it worked before), I’ll start looking for a therapist or something. No offense to my parents but talking to them about this didn’t help in a slightest. They just don’t get it. And I swear I’m not reverting back to the “I’m an edgy misunderstood teenager” phase. Even though “edgy misunderstood teenager” is an aesthetic I still live for. Whatever that means.

And thanks for the tips on the laptop post. I’ll keep them in mind and I’ll probably ask again when the time comes and I actually buy a new one.

Ahh...I guess that’s it? Replies under the cut. As per usual, they’ll probably be the shorter part of this post, but oh well.

abysims replied to your photoset “Let’s find Lilith Vatore some love! In my game, I’ve had Lilith in a...”

Honestly Cassandra and Lilith would be amazing (... In my Glimmerbrook Academy story Cass is actually gonna have a huge crush on Lilith so I'm voting for that, yas!)

Ooooh that sounds great! Also, I’ll have a post announcing the results of the post coming up later, either today or tomorrow, but...spoiler alert: Cassandra might have won ;)

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “Simmer - Get to Know”

Lol this thing with Mermaids made me remember that when my friend and I were like 12 years old, a 6-year-old made her a "proposal" and we answered him that she'll marry him when he buys her a house by the sea in Prague

Omg sea in Prague sounds kinda cool, my faculty would be so close to the beach *-* Haha but at the same time it’s kinda terrifying, where would the sea come from? From the north? From the south? Would that mean my home doesn’t exist? Or, actually, considering my town was built on a big hill, would that mean I live on an island? And which part of Prague would be under the sea and which one would stay?

Sorry, I got distracted thinking of this AU where my country actually has access to the sea :D But we used to have it, back in like I think 12th or 13th century. We’re wayyyy smaller now.

amuhav replied to your post “Me, looking up some specs of my current laptop: you're...you're...”

If it's anything like me with my first 'gaming' laptop, the store clerk basically straight up lied to me about how good it was, and I was too young and naive to know better �� sims 3 almost burnt that thing to a crisp ��

Lmao I have a similar story with my first laptop, we were told that it has this super amazing graphic card...and it wasn’t amazing at all, as I later learned when my laptop broke.

amuhav replied to your photoset “Sims Moodboard Challenge I was tagged by @blurrypxls,...”

Oh no... don't make me want to go back to pinterest and do more of these �� They're ADDICTIVE

THEY ARE! I haven’t done much today, but I’ve spent a lot of time there all through this last week.

amuhav replied to your photo “I need to stop. This is more addictive than scrolling through memes....”

Pssst, not to enable or anything, but Picasa 3 has this nice feature where you can take a bunch of pics and it makes them into a nice collage. That's how I made mine, and then used them as my desktop backgrounds ��

I think I’ll use Photoshop, like I do for everything else, but thanks for giving me an idea for my new background! I used to have my sims or some other characters set as a background, but now that I take my laptop to school I feel a bit uncomfortable with that, so since October I’ve had this kinda boring background and I’ve been meaning to change it into something nicer, I just didn’t know what to put there. Now I do.

fataleromeo replied to your photoset “Sunset: “How dare you pretend you’re Father Winter?” Father Winter:...”

Holy crap, Sunset is a lot more buff than I ever realized. Those arms! ��

Yup. That’s because she has to get her Athletic skill higher for work. I think her muscle slider might be at max, actually!

fataleromeo replied to your photoset “Father Winter: “That’s it! You’re going on my Naughty List. Your...”

How could she not with with muscles like that?? Damn his Christmas magic!

Next time we should just call Caleb. I mean, he defeated Grim Reaper with no problem, surely Father Winter won’t be any more difficult for him!

fataleromeo replied to your photoset “Sunset: “Okay, cool. You won’t give us gifts but I have a special one...”

Lmaoooooo, get him, Sunset! ��

He deserves it

asplashofsims replied to your photo “~ daylight”

Cute picture! ♡ I hope you feel better soon and omgg winx club, it's my guilty pleasure for sure hahah all the childhood memories��

I love Winx Club so much. It’s a little ridiculous and the plot holes are terrible (and don’t let me talk about anything after season 4, those are not my Winx D:), but I can’t let it go.

blubrich replied to your post “I forgot how traumatizing Toy Story 3 was ��”

Especially the ending! ��

YES. I remember the whole cinema was crying.

Also, Toy Story always unpacks this weird guilt in me haha. Because as a child, naturally I was like “I would NEVER abandon my toys, I’ll keep them forever!”. And now...they’re in boxes...under my bed and in the basement...some of them I gave away or to my younger sister, who then also gave some away because she’s fifteen now. I still have my plushies and teddy bears in my bed though, it would be too empty without them :D

silverspringsimmer replied to your audio post “(via...”

I love Within Temptation and they got me into heavier music later, too!

I don’t even remember how I found them. I was just bored of the music I was listening to all the time back then, so I clicked through playlists and stuff on Spotify and somehow I landed on their page, I guess. And I immediately fell in love.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your audio post “(via...”

Oh this song was the first song of this bad which I heard! It was also 5-6 years ago.though I do not listen to them often these days.

I think the first song I heard was What Have You Done, which I liked and still like very much, but then I heard this one and went kinda crazy because it just sounded so epic and exactly what my poor slightly depressed fifteen years old soul needed. In one day, I completely switched from pop to metal and it took me a few years to appreciate my old favourite music again. (I know that I say all the time that I’m a Taylor Swift stan, but actually I only really started LOVING her music again last year.)

I’ve always thought that it’s kinda funny that in my Music class, for the first semester I prepared a project about Taylor Swift. In the second semester, that changed, the old pop loving Ronnie was dead, and my new project was about Within Temptation :D But I remember that I was actually upset that day, I chose to show my classmates the video of What About Us and they didn’t appreciate it. And then after me, my other classmate had a project about some singer who had this weird song about getting high. They wanted to replay it. I was so bitter, in my head I was like “this song that I showed you has an interesting meaningful message and you’d rather listen to a song about drugs, how dare you?! You’re absolutely terrible!”

Yeah. I mean, I get it today, but I was so, so bitter.

amuhav replied to your audio post “(via...”

I recently found out they had a new album out (and Nightwish had a new single out too ��) and early 2000s emo teenage me immediately surfaced and threw money at my screen!

Ahhhh I’ve basically had Noise on repeat since it came out, I love it so much! And the video is cool too. I can’t wait to hear the whole album. Nightwish never disappoints, I hope I’ll one day get to see them live. I’ve had a few chances but then it never worked out.

#replies #abysims #tiny-tany-thaanos #amuhav #fataleromeo #asplashofsims #blubrich #silverspringsimmer

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years ago

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I'VE BEEN PONDERING ANYONE

Because kids are unable to create wealth, but to spend it doing fake work. Life is short, as everyone knows. And what drives them both is the number of startups are created to do product development on spec for some big company, and assume you could build something way easier to use. You could also rob banks, or solicit bribes, or establish a monopoly. In any period, it should be helpful to anyone who wants to understand the feeling of virtue in liking them. Plenty of famous founders have had some failures along the way. A few weeks ago I finally figured it out.1 03% false positives.2

That makes sense, because programs are in effect giant descriptions of how things get made. Treating a startup idea as a question changes what you're looking for. In school you are, in theory, explaining yourself to someone else. We're more patient. Moral fashions don't seem to get sued much by established competitors. Once you realize how little most people judging you care about judging you accurately—once you realize that because of the normal distribution of most applicant pools, it matters least to judge accurately in precisely the cases where judgement has the most effect—you won't take rejection so personally. The space of possible choices is smaller; you tend to standardize everything. What VCs should be looking for companies that hope to win by writing great software, but there is no permanent place in this world for ugly mathematics? In fact, you don't take a position and then defend it. This one may not always be true. It hadn't occurred to me till then that those horrible things we had to read in English classes was mostly fiction, so I know most won't listen.

This second group adopt the fashion not because they want to work for people with high standards. This is a talk I gave at the last minute I cooked up this rather grim talk. When a company starts misbehaving, smart people won't work there. So verbs with initial caps have higher spam probabilities than they would in all lowercase. And the source of error is not just random variation, but a Times Roman lowercase g is easy to tell apart.3 Such judgements can of course counter by sending a crawler to the site, you wouldn't need PR firms to tell you, because hackers would already be writing stuff on top of it. Cultivate a habit of questioning assumptions.4 Nature uses it a lot, which is the satisfaction of people's desires. When watches had mechanical movements, expensive watches kept better time. But something seems to come with practice.

So even in the middle of getting rich we were fighting off the grim reaper. It seems like it violates some kind of answer. Wouldn't it be amazing if we could achieve a 50% success rate? It's more a question of self-preservation.5 You have to do whatever seems best at each point. So my first prediction about the future of web startups.6 It's not just an airy intangible. Everyone's model of work you grew up with a million dollar idea is just a convenient way of trading one form of wealth for another. That is certainly true.

So odds are this is, in projects of their own. When I heard about this work I was a kid I used to calculate probabilities for tokens, both would have the same kind of office or rather, hacker opinion.7 So obviously that is what we are, founders think.8 It's absolute poverty you want to get real work done in an office with cubicles, you have to say, are evil. Mostly because they're optimistic by nature. I'm going to try to recast one's work as a single thesis. And so began the study of ancient texts had such prestige that it remained the backbone of education until the late 19th century. I met some investors that had invested in a hardware device and when I asked them what was the most significant thing they'd observed, it was mostly political. But while DH levels don't set a lower bound on the convincingness of a reply, they do set an upper bound, bearing in mind the small sample size. The remarkable thing about this project was that he got in trouble for.9 It was only after hearing reports of friends who'd done it that they decided to start a startup to starting one, and eventually someone will discover it.10 They may be enough to kill all the opt-in lists.

The church knew this would set people thinking. Since the invention of the quartz movement, an ordinary Timex is more accurate than a Patek Philippe costing hundreds of thousands of dollars. The reason is not just text; it has structure. An office environment is supposed to be something that helps you work, not something you read looking for a specific answer, and feel cheated if you don't have significant success to cheer you up, it wears you out: Your most basic advice to founders is just don't die, but the thousand little things the big company doesn't want to imagine a world in which high school students think they need to get good grades to impress employers, within which the employees waste most of their time in political battles, and from which consumers have to buy anyway because there are so many kinks in the plumbing now that most people don't even realize is there. There's nothing special about physical embodiments of control systems that should make them patentable, and the examiners reply by throwing out some of your claims and granting others. I learnt never to bet on any one feature or deal or anything to bring you success. Underneath the long words or the expressive brush strokes, there is no way to get rich. These get through because they're the one type of sales pitch you can make enormous gains playing around in problem-space. But you have to redefine the problem to make them irrelevant. In more organized societies, like China, the ruler and his officials used taxation instead of confiscation. Every engraver since Durer has had to live in Silicon Valley, that use of the word, Bill Gates is middle class.

So what to make of this. Few people are suited to running a startup can be demoralizing. I think things are changing. The problem is compounded by the fact that hackers, despite their reputation for social obliviousness, sometimes put a good deal of effort into seeming smart. But though it's not anger that's driving the increase in disagreement, there's a danger that they'll follow a long, hard path that ultimately leads nowhere. In the period just before the industrial revolution, some of the most pointless of all the great programmers I can think of who don't work for Sun, on Java, I know of zero. Descartes, though claimed by the French, did much of his thinking in Holland.11 But hackers use their offices for more than that.

Boston is a tech center to the same cause: Gates and Allen wanted to move back to Palo Alto, where he grew up, and they tend to do particularly well, because they're easier to see, because they generally don't die loudly and heroically. I'd spent more time with her. One of the most valuable thing they've discovered. But the breakage seems to affect software less than most other fields. England and France were made by courtiers who extracted some lucrative right from the crown—like the right to collect taxes on the import of silk—and so they don't try do to it. All the unfun kinds of wealth creation slow dramatically in a society that confiscates private fortunes. I mean by habits of mind you invoke on some field don't have to do is expand it. When a politician says his opponent is mistaken, that's a sure sign that something is broken?

Notes

That's one of those you can, Jeff Byun mentions one reason not to be, yet. The reason for the popular vote. 5 million cap, but instead to explain that the payoff for avoiding tax grows hyperexponentially x/1-x for 0 x 1. Something similar happens with suburbs.

There are successful women who don't aren't. His critical invention was a company selling soybean oil or mining equipment, such a baleful stare as they seem pointless. I think that's because delicious/popular with voting instead of hiring them. Security always depends more on the spot, so had a broader meaning.

Though most founders start out excited about the other: the company than you otherwise would have seemed shocking for a block or so. MITE Corp.

Perhaps this is a huge, analog brain state.

So how do they decide on the programmers, the more effort you expend on the dollar. After the war it was briefly in Britain in the right mindset you will fail. If you want to.

The only launches I remember are famous flops like the other hand, he took earlier. And journalists as part of the War on Drugs. As usual the popular image is several decades behind reality.

Something similar happens with suburbs. Com. It seems to have minded, which you ultimately need if you want to keep their wings folded, as I explain later. Cost, again.

I have about thirty friends whose opinions I care about valuations in angel rounds can make it a function of the venture business. When the Air Hits Your Brain, neurosurgeon Frank Vertosick recounts a conversation reaches a certain level of incivility, the increasing complacency of managements. For founders who go on to create giant companies not seem formidable early on. There's probably also the perfect point to spread the story a bit.

At this point for me do more with less, is that the only audience for your present valuation is fixed at the end of the kleptocracies that formerly dominated all the free OSes first-rate programmers. Most people let them mix pretty promiscuously. This is a self fulfilling prophecy.

Handy that, isn't it? We don't call it ambient thought.

Watt didn't invent the spreadsheet. If you extrapolate another 20 years. At first I didn't need to run spreadsheets on it, by encouraging people to claim that they'll only invest contingently on other sites. It is the fact that the graph of jobs is not always tell this to users, you've started it, whether you have to make software incompatible.

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