#requestfic

[ryntaia]

Yutaba- She had no idea how he could have THAT many viruses on his laptop.

Yeeee boi

Here we gooooo

           Futaba stared blankly at the flashing screen before her.

           Never mind that the laptop in front of her had to be at least ten years out of date. Never mind that the monitor and the keyboard seemed to be barely held together with tape (painted over in extravagant patterns, of course). Never mind that the OS was something more fit to being in a computer science museum. All things considered, Futaba was more surprised that the laptop at her fingertips wasn’t falling apart and running on a nonexistent dial-up connection.

           No, what trumped that all was all of the viruses that had popped up.

           She had been forced to magic up a half-assed anti-virus program to work on Yusuke’s relic of a computer in the first place, but the redhead hadn’t expected to be faced with what had to be somewhere around one hundred computer viruses. The artist had been prodding her all month to do a check up on his computer because he was afraid something was wrong with it—right about now, Futaba was seriously regretting giving into his constant pushing.

           “Inari.” She finally said. The blue haired teen jerked up from his stiff cross-legged position on his dorm bed. “How in the world did you get this many computer viruses?”

           “Oh, so my computer is infected then?”

           “INFECT—Is it infected?! Are you kidding me?!” Futaba exploded, spinning around on the computer chair. Slapping her hand on her outstretched bare leg, teeth grinding together and glasses askew, she fixed the tall teen with what could only be called a look of pure malice. “You call this infected?! This isn’t infected! This is more like a hospital graveyard! You have around 110 separate viruses on your computer, not even counting the repeat instances floating around your hard drive!”

           “I was afraid of that.”

           “You gotta be kidding me. This has gotta be some elaborate prank…you’ve gotta be trolling.” Futaba rolled her backwards to let her head fall against the keyboard, hands gripping tightly against the armrests of the desk. “How did you manage to DO this? AND keep your computer from shutting down at the same time? This thing shouldn’t even running with how badly it’s infected.”

           “I’ve downloaded some programs.” Yusuke said unhelpfully. When met with Futaba’s frustrated glare, he shakily continued. “For digital art. One of my teachers loaned me a modern tablet to experiment with but I didn’t have a good program to use. So I tried a few download sites to get some programs.”

           “Which programs and what sites?”

           “Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator…and one that a fellow student recommended to me, SAI. She’s an extremely talented girl so I figured I should give this program of hers a try.” Yusuke beamed like he was proud of his idiocy. Futaba felt an odd stabbing in her stomach listening to the Inari pile praise onto this weird unknown classmate of his. She couldn’t be THAT special. “But I couldn’t find very many that didn’t require, what was it called…? A ‘crack’? So I was forced to download several separate instances of the program from many different sites. My classmate emailed me a copy of this ‘SAI’ program later on. It was nice, though I much prefer my brush.”

           “Oh my godddddd, Inaaaaari, are you kidding me…” Futaba groaned, massaging her eyelids with her hands under her glasses. “No wonder you have so many viruses, you probably got them from the Adobe illegal downloads. You have adware and spyware up the butt on this stupid thing.”

           “Adware? Spyware?” Yusuke seemed genuinely confused as to what she was talking about and she let out a long sigh.

           “Nevermind. I’m just gonna have to go full extreme here.” With a spin, the redhead faced back to the computer and lifted up her hands in almost predatory motion. A pink tongue whipped across her lips quickly as she pulled a hard drive out of her bag and began typing wildly. Yusuke attempted to peak over her shoulder but was only met with a smack in the side of the face. It wasn’t as if he could understand the loading files and progress bars anyhow. Slowly he found himself bored, lying against the wall and picking at a clean brush from his easel.

           “And done.”

           “Huh?” Yusuke jerked up at the sound of Futaba’s pleased voice. She was holding up a thin black hard drive, reflecting brightly in the afternoon sun that poured through the dorm room window shades. He cocked his head to the side, unsure of what was going on…until with a defiant smash, Futaba kicked his laptop off the desk. It went flying into the wall; the already fragile frame shattered under the pressure. Its owner looked on in horror and shock at the smug girl balancing on his desk with one foot deftly held out in the direction of the debris.

           “W-WHAT WAS THAT?! That was my only computer, all my personal files are on there! My scholarship applications…!” Yusuke was almost wailing. Futaba clicked her tongue and shook her head, shaking the thin black cassette in her hand again.

           “All that is right here. I can’t have one of my own kind working with a junker like THAT, even if you ARE poor and jobless.” She lowered her glasses, looking over to Yusuke with an almost devilish grin—as if she had intended to shock the boy out of his normally stoic and calm mannerisms. Knowing her, she probably had. “I have a few backup laptops in my room that I don’t use anymore. I’ll clear them out and put your files it. It’ll all be back by tomorrow so stop bellyaching.”

           “T-that…I…” Yusuke stuttered. Her actions had been extreme, and brutish, but her intentions…were surprisingly righteous. A voice in the back of his mind told him that really, he wouldn’t have it any other way no matter how much he bantered with the girl. She wouldn’t be nearly as fun and surprising if she was PREDICTABLE. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to let her know that, but…well. “Thank you, Futaba.”

           “Hey, no problem, Inari.” Futaba hopped down from the desk to check her phone. “Akira’s gonna be picking me up soon so I’ll see you tomorrow. And, uh, one more good computer safety tip?”

           “Hmm…what?” Yusuke said, almost afraid of her answer.

           “Yeah, eheh, RedSex is a pretty virus laden hellhole. Get your porn somewhere else next time, okay?”

           He nearly passed out from the blood rushing to his face as the redhead girl laughed her way out the door.

[incessantdarkness]

A happy holiday request fill fic; akamido naturally. Happy holidays everyone!

"You opened my present early." Midorima stood in the front foyer wiping his glasses off on his sleeves as the bloodflow returned to his painfully numb fingers.

On the couch Akashi stirred under the weight of the large mustard yellow comforter he was wrapped in--the evidence of his impatience--and made no move to deny it. "I had need for it. You can open yours if you like."

Midorima replaced his glasses on the bridge of his nose and went towards the couch instead of the small pile of presents that sat untouched beneath the tree. Akashi shifted from his position just enough to let Midorima squeeze in behind him and then settled once more.

Warm hands slipped back and found Midorima's icy fingers and Akashi tipped his head back with a sympathetic wince. Without pause, Akashi guided Midorima's fingers to his waist and squeezed his upper arms over them, trapping them in the warmth. As the cold seeped through the thin cloth of his shirt an involuntary shiver rode up Akashi's spine and Midorima felt it against his chest; he tried to pull his hands away but Akashi held fast, and turned his head just enough to brush his lips against Midorima's jaw.

A charmed smile slipped across Midorima's lips at the endearing quality of Akashi's stubborn insistence, and he let his fingers remain trapped against the warmth of Akashi's waist.

"It was payment." Akashi explained a few minutes later when Midorima's fingers had warmed enough for it to be comfortable to slide them beneath Akashi's shirt.

"For what?"

"For such a thoughtful gift. Seeing as it'll keep me warm though the winter, it's only fair that I return the favour every once in a while."

[aileuromania]

Into the Fire

I promised this one weeks ago, back in my "prompt rush". Well, I think it's finally done, so without further ado, here's the drabble I did featuring Vassel-Legacy's Zevenne and Reddie.

This was the first time I tackled writing anything for characters I didn't know at all, and hope that it's acceptable.

The prompt was to fill in the details when Zevenne and Reddie met in a cantina.

* * * * *

"You need to go out more", they said. "It'll be good for you!", they said. Yet she couldn't have felt less "good" if she'd tried. Honestly, the whole idea was a waste of time. Sitting by herself in a bar was certainly not the fun she'd been lead to believe, and had become even less so as she watched dancers and drinkers alike pair off and leave to do whatever mysterious things non-Jedi did when they got together. There was something off about the whole thing. When she was elsewhere she could pretend she was whole, but here, watching the laughter and merriment, she felt colourless. Yes, that was the word. She felt beige in the rainbow of excitement. Glumly she played with the fruit skewered in her drink, the perfect sphere of it marred by the wooden stick pushed through its heart. Was this the reason why the Order actually pushed a lack of emotion, so that Jedi could live their lives perfectly content with the hollow surfaces their lives comprised? It'd be nice to be able to have fun, but maybe it just wasn't for the likes of her. Wistfully she smiled, watching another laughing couple whisking each other off the dance floor and off into the mysterious darkness. What would it have been like to not be Force Sensitive and never have been trained by the Order? Would she have been a Trooper like her parents? Or maybe a freighter captain, or a shopkeeper. What a wonderful life they must have. A red glass suddenly filled her field of vision, its vibrancy enough to shock even her out of her rather maudlin train of thought. She'd never thought it possible that so many decorations and pieces of fruit could be stuffed into one glass and still be considered a beverage, yet here it was. Quizzically she looked up into the face of its bearer; one of the cantina's many waitresses. "Compliments of the red haired man." the woman droned, pointing over her shoulder at an apparent human man who grinned as Zevenne curiously looked over. As the server slumped away, this man detached himself from the bar he was attached to and sauntered over, grinning as he took the seat across from her uninvited. "So, what's a pretty Jedi like you doing in a place like this?" he drawled, leaning towards her, his eyes running shamelessly across her form. She blushed despite herself, knowing that logically there was no reason she should feel that way, but did nonetheless. “My friends told me it’d be good for me to let off some steam at a cantina or something, so here I am.” she replied with a shrug, not quite knowing where to look. She felt almost undressed sitting here before him, that slow smile slowly taking over his handsome face as his gaze never left her. “And you’re just sitting here in a corner, not letting your light shine bright?” With a soft tongue-click he shook his head, the dim light catching his face implants and making them sparkle. “We have to do something about that, don’t we?” With a flourish he was on his feet, his hand beckoning towards her like he was some kind of debonaire noble. Confused, she stared at it, wondering exactly what he meant. “I...?” “Oh, babe. What'd they teach you in that Order of yours?” He grinned, his teeth glittering almost as brightly as the glint in his eyes. “Come on; let the Fire show you a night you’ll never forget.” Wondering how this had possibly happened to her, she reached out and took his hand, and without another word she was whisked on to the dancefloor. For once, she was a true part of the rainbow.

[aileuromania]

Prompt: Which of your characters are animal lovers, and is there any situation you can tell us about to showcase that?

It was such an adorable little bundle, curled up and snoring softly inside her robes. She could hear the small snuffling sounds and felt the pricks as those tiny talons peddled in its sleep, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Kin, I need some help." Vejaar had sidled up to her almost apologetically, knowing her usual reaction to his presence. And sure enough she had felt her heart pounding in fear, the usual terror responses gripping her as the Sith sighed in resignation. "It's not what you think. Not this time, anyway. You see, I got this egg on Alderaan, but I can't keep it. Broonmark keeps looking at it as though it's lunch and I don't know what else to do with it. I think it's close to hatching and I want to give it the best possible chance." The young human smiled, almost shy beneath his red tattoos. "And I thought, who better than a Jedi?"

"I... maybe?" Through the Force she could feel the tiny lifeforce pulsing within the green shell, and her heart went out to the poor little mite even through her fear. Who wouldn't give it a chance? And there was no way she would allow it to be eaten by anyone. She was a Jedi, after all, no matter how she had come to be one, and they were all about protecting and defending, weren't they? "Ok... yes. I'll take it. I'll make sure it gets a proper home."

The Sith Lord had smiled in a certain relief then, and as usual they parted ways before anyone might realise they were speaking, and the Twi'lek was left holding the egg.

"Now, what do I do with you?" she said, holding the precious package up to the light.

It was Tharan who had come up with the solution. Peering at the egg as it gently rocked on the tabletop, Kin standing in the background wringing her hands, he declared,

"Heat, Jedi! We need to find it a heat source that won't destroy it."

"Oh, Tharan, honey, what about Tatooine? There's got to be something there that would do it, if not the suns by themselves?" Holiday simpered and the bearded self-declared genius beamed.

"An excellent suggestion. Leave it to us, Jedi, and we'll get you your answer."

And so they had. A turbine in the abandoned Czerka complex had provided enough heat for her to stand and hatch the egg, though she'd had to absolutely drench herself in water before she could tolerate it. It had taken all her will to stand upright, but all her love to not mind.

When the green chick emerged from the shell and crooned up at her, she was lost.

"Hello, little one." she whispered, stroking the yellow beak with a finger. "Welcome out."

"Uh, Jedi?" Tharan looked dubiously up at the turbine. "I don't mean to hurry you through this birthing process of yours, but we really should be moving. Not that there's any hurry, of course, but I think your lekku are about to catch fire."

"Oh!" Forcing herself to look away from the avid little eyes, she nodded, holding out her robe as a kind of pouch. "In you go, little one."

The sensation of the sleeping body next to her skin was worth the melting heat. Blisters and peeling were ignored as she helped the little one preen, kolto applications ignored as she fed the bird with her fingers.

In an odd way, she felt lighter than she had in months. It was nice to have someone to care for, and she felt oddly complete.

[aileuromania]

To the people still waiting on prompts...

Don't worry, you haven't been forgotten! They are in work; I just need a bit of time with them is all.