#but goddamnit the void's going to listen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

texanredrose · 7 years ago

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Vent Post

Alright, I don’t typically do this, but I’ve hit my limit. Please understand, while I appreciate the love and support my stories have received, there is a trend that I have to address because it’s gotten to the point where it’s beyond ridiculous. After talking about it here, I honestly don’t want to have to bring it up again, and I expect no one to go harassing others over it. This isn’t directed at a single person and, for the most part, y’all have been wonderful; I truly couldn’t be more thankful.

However, if you’ve ever left a comment/review regarding Queens of Vale on another work of mine, especially if you didn’t ever leave a comment/review on Queens of Vale itself, and doubly so if you did that without actually reading the contents of the work in question? This is for you.

TL;DR: to everyone who loves Queens of Vale, I’m so sorry the next chapter hasn’t been posted yet. I would love nothing more than to return to it. But I also haven’t gone two weeks without someone using one of my other works to try to guilt trip me into posting it, and that kinda ticks me off.

Text contents of the above picture: “YYBB does have a point. I would LOVE to go back to working on QoV- or Freezerburn fics in general, really- but the amount of comments in that vein I've received have made it a sore spot, to the point where I've considered deleting it from FFN and AO3 entirely just so I don't have to deal with it anymore. It's also a big reason why I don't post promptly from tumblr to AO3/FFN, because each time I do- even though I've completely stopped writing FB and QoV- I get at least one comment/review/PM like this. I thank you for at least addressing the contents of THIS fic, since a lot of the ones I've received don't do that. You've also at least reviewed QoV before which, again, is something most people DON'T do when they leave comments like this on my other fics.

None of my fics are forgotten or abandoned. I go back and reread them myself and work on updates for them all the time! The next update for QoV, for instance, has been nearly completed for the better part of a year now. But I write what strikes my fancy in the moment and constantly being treated like my hobby should be dictated by others is extremely discouraging. Ultimately, I'm going to do what makes me happiest, because until writing starts paying my bills, I've really no inclination to put undue pressure on myself by compromising my free time to meet arbitrary deadlines.

I DO appreciate that you love the story. A lot of people do and that's fine! I'm absolutely FLOORED by how many fell in love with it! But, if people stopped hounding me to update it (the current record is less than two weeks), it would've HAD an update by now, much like several other fics that I updated or wrote sequels that no one asked for.

I also apologize for the wall of text. This just happened to be the straw that broke the camel's back. (I usually delete the aforementioned comments/reviews- which is hard as hell to do on FFN btw- but silence isn't getting me anywhere, so it seems like a tumblr post is in order.)”

For well over a year, I’ve been receiving all manner of comments/reviews/PMs/asks regarding the next update for QoV. They’ve ranged from polite questions to outright demands. At first, I tried to take them with a grain of salt- for anyone who actually read the Author’s Note at the end of the last chapter, you’ll know that I had to rewrite chapters, and thus it would take time for the next update to come because I had other commitments- but as time wore on, I became discouraged from continuing it when the other, smaller things I’d written started getting reviews/comments addressing QoV instead.

I love the stories I’ve written. I love the characters I’ve written. I genuinely care about each and every one and try to put the same love and care into all of them. Can you imagine how frustrating it can be when someone who didn’t even bother to tell you they liked something only mentions it when you’ve offered up something different? And people trying to guilt me into it, like I owe anything to people who couldn’t give the five seconds it takes to type up “this is cute” or “I like this”?

Understand, I’ve been putting up with this for three years- you would be shocked by how many people combed through my previous works to comment about how “it’s too bad you don’t write [ship] because your writing is so good!” Like, examine that statement for a minute; if my writing’s that good, does it matter which ship I write? Judging by how many people have responded to even the most niche ships I’ve written for, I’m going to answer that: no, it absolutely doesn’t. It’s just a method of trying to make me doubt my own abilities and passion, to push me to write something I don’t want to write.

Incidentally, my NOTP list? Entirely comprised of the suggestions other people have provided in reviews/comments like that. Because I don’t believe in rewarding bullies or praising bad behavior by bending to it, even for ships I honestly wouldn’t mind writing. So I’ve dealt with this, on a regular basis, all this time, in silence.

But enough is enough. The ones I’ve gotten recently? Couldn’t even be bothered to read the “this is a commission” literally at the top; the story’s written (mostly), I’m just posting at the customer’s request.

Do you know how infuriating that is? Here I am, writing something that literally tells you what’s up, but you aren’t going to read it because... you want to read... something else? ??? Where is the logic? How can I even be sure you read any part of QoV- because, again, a lot of people doing this didn’t comment/review, so it’s not like I know for sure- and aren’t just doing it for some sort of smug satisfaction? Really, there’s no motivation here to even open the draft.

Y’all, I’m sorry for getting so long winded about this, but it has been building for a while. I’m a little annoyed, to put things lightly. And, yes, I have considered pulling the story from the internet entirely; I’ve gotten to that point before because if anyone thinks I’m scared of threats, they’ve got another thing coming. I’ll call your bluff and look you in the eye while I do it. I’ve tagged people before, telling them to save a local copy- that’s how close I’ve been to just washing my hands of it.

And the thing that hurts most of all is knowing that a lot of really good, kind people love the story, too. People who’ve been patient and understanding would love to see an update. Hell, I only even wrote it because Maka made the suggestion! Y’all are the only reason I haven’t deleted QoV and keep working on the draft. But if I post it, the people who’ve been hounding me will think their tactics worked, and they’ll either try to do it on another work of mine or to another writer entirely, and that’s the last thing I want.

So I’m just coming right out and saying it. Until I can go three weeks without someone using another fic of mine to demand an update, QoV will be abandoned. It sucks because I was so looking forward to this arc, which was going to set up some really epic scenes towards the end and focus pretty heavily on the relationship between Yang and Weiss, as well as their relationship with the rest of Patch. I was so looking forward to it, y’all don’t even know! Whenever I start reading over the draft, I get excited all over again!

I really wish it hadn’t come to this. I put out what I think is a lot of content- I’m already over 331k words for 2018, and there’s still more to come; I’m on track to exceed last year’s 340k words- but I’m doing this for fun. I love writing and telling stories, but I’m going to tell the stories I want to tell and I’m too damn stubborn for that to change any time soon.

I’ve always told y’all I’m an asshole. I’m sorry to be a dick but I’m not going to back down because a bunch of people who haven’t spent hours working on stories of their own think it’s okay to dictate how I should be doing it.

And I swear to God if someone waits three weeks and one day to do this shit again, y’all will know. Y’all will know immediately.

#Tex has some shit to get off their chest #and the sad thing is I already KNOW the people who need to read this won't #so this is just screaming into the void #but goddamnit the void's going to listen

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luminecho · 4 years ago

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No one talk to me I’m listening to FS:AMA’s How It Ends and crying on the floor

#I forgot how much fucking emotional impact this has on me goddamnit #H #my heart is aching #go listen to ashnwolves’ music or i acquire legal rights to your limbs #//#echo shouts to the void #four swords musical #idk if I had a tag for it before but I do now

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blairbeau · 2 years ago

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My thoughts on Tighnari’s new VA that literally no one asked for

Surprisingly it’s really not that bad. As one of my absolute favorite and often comfort character you surely bet your ass my butt cheeks were clenched when I heard the news finally broke. It’s different, but not too different or bad different. One thing this voice absolutely knocks out of the park is this underlying gentle patience, in the ye olden days we shall not speak of, he almost felt antagonistic at times? Like if I accidentally brushed up against a poisoned mushroom my dad was gonna tear me a new one for not reading the handbook religiously. But now he feels more patient, an underlying irritation but it’s not in forefront. Like hey it’s alright (then in his head: It’s only the 5th one this week, you’ll learn, eventually…hopefully)

There are obviously some things I’m ehhh about, my biggest pet peeve is the kind of nerdish cadence he has in his introduction. Totally super hot take, I absolutely fucking hate Mika’s voice. No one likes an wElL aCTuaLY person, and it’s just the overwhelming overbearing annoying tone he has that makes me wanna go SHUT UP OR SPEAKING NORMALLY GODDAMNIT. Luckily after listening to his other lines, it’s not as apparent as Mika but still present at times. My only change would be to make this nerdier accent of sorts to come out when he’s, yanno, nerding out or gets caught rambling on flowers and botany. Like that’d be fucking adorable. This nerdy almost youthful voice kind of doesn’t portray his confidence and or sass as well. Like I can have a gentle patient person who is still sure of himself and sometimes has a attitude, but it felt that his introduction was kind of void of that confidence a senior forest watcher would have.

On a completely subjective note it also kinda bothers me that he sounds like way more younger, cause I always kind of headcanoned him to be around his late 20s early 30s and it’s throwing me for a loop but that’s completely my own personal taste.

Overall I am very happy, no matter these complaints he still feels like tighnari and I’m glad that his essence wasn’t lost despite the terrible situation this character was put into. I really like him and I can genuinely see myself getting used to this voice overtime.

He just needs to coME HOME BABY PLEASEEeeeee

#tighnari #genshin tighnari #genshin impact #genshin impact tighnari #rambloos #hoyoverse ya did a good job #just make him come home I’m literally begging you #genshin va

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im-a-wizard-who-dont-crime · 1 year ago

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you think I'm trying‽ pathetic try goddamnit (blue is ether) fine. You're no fun *suddenly you crash into the floor unable to get up for a few seconds until you regain mental control. Which seems to happening a lot faster than void expected* quick absence absorb his powers well we beat him *you're not exactly sure but you assume absence is the 7th false god, you are suddenly pelted by a flurry of blows. They don't hurt but they start to as your powers begin to be absorbed very very very slowly* listen you're going to need to wait for absence to absorb about 50% of your power. I'll set the power absorption line on fire and kill him. It will kill him and you'll get your powers back. But more importantly it will shut off all the suits. And she's connected to her sister void. Killing her will make void lose about 75% of her power. I'll heal vex and the fight will be easy. But right now even you have a 50% chance to lose

Help @im-a-wizard-who-dont-crime and jörmungandr are in danger

-@vex-the-warlock-hand-familiar

(Since you wanted a lore ask)

Where are they?

#I meant to use this blog this time

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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In between the city walls of dying dreams

This if for @buckyownsmylife 2k challenge. I chose the character Andy Barber and the AU ex-con.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); somnophilia, drugging, breeding, oral, fingering.

This is dark! (ex-con) Andy Barber x shy!reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: One night, you’re saved by the last person you expect, but you don’t know that he’s only saving you for himself.

Note: So I woke up at like 4am and couldn’t sleep. My biggest mistake during my insomniac fits are scrolling tumblr and then I see a writing challenge and decide, hey I hate myself enough to write 6k+ words for a tatted up Andy Barber so here we are.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The streets were shiny and slick as the rain pattered across the pavement and the eaves trickled loudly. The door of the convenience store chimed as you stepped out into the drizzle with a plastic bag hanging from your elbow. It was late and you were eager to be home after a ten-hour shift, your return delayed by your visit to the shop.

A man stood beneath the beaming ‘lotto’ sign and you kept your head low as you passed him. He kept his hood up but you recognized the grey sweater. You had waited behind him as he paid before you and offered only grumbles to the cashier. You weren’t too talkative yourself although the clerk recognized you from frequent visits. You only lived a block away and it was one of the only places open after your evening shifts.

Your boots splashed through shallow puddles as you passed by the alleyway you took in the daytime, keeping to the halo of the streetlights along the grimy stretch. You had no illusions about the neighbourhood and it often reminded you of its vices. If you kept quiet and faded into the background, it couldn’t eat you up. Living downtown meant that you had to learn to ignore the alarm bells in your head and just keep going. Be vigilant but don’t be bold.

As you cleared the mouth of the alley, you heard footsteps emerge behind you. You picked up your pace and gripped the strap of your purse slung across your torso. You pulled out your phone and angled it to see the shadow following you.

There was a shawarma shop on the next corner. You could hide out there until the creep got tired and left. It was your usual trick and the owner, Mo, was especially skilled at scaring away the rabble.

The man got closer and you gulped. You would have to start running if he got any closer. You thought of swinging at him with your plastic bag, the bottle of vitamin water would give him a good knock. You walked faster and squeezed your phone as you brought up the dial pad. There was no one you could call who would get there fast enough.

You tripped and felt the hand on your arm. You were spun back against the wall and you threw your bag around to hit your accoster. It bounced to the ground as it was batted away and the plastic bag tore in half. The bottle of vitamin water rolled over the curb and your can of soup was dented on impact. The candy bar was tangled in the white plastic and you were trapped against the brick.

“Wallet.” The man’s knife slid from the handle with a threatening whisper. “Phone!”

He wrestled your cell from your grasp as the blade kept you from resisting. He cut the strap of your purse and yanked it free from your body. Shit. That can of soup would likely be your only meal for the rest of the week… if he didn’t stab you anyway.

You readied yourself for the worst but it never came. You were suddenly released as the man was shoved away from you and the blade clattered to the ground. The stranger in the grey hood kicked his ass so he sprawled across the pavement and bent to grab the blade. He retracted it and booted the mugger a second time.

“Stay down.” He warned as he knelt to pick up the can of chicken and rice and the dark chocolate. He fished the vitamin water from the gutter but the seal had broke and it was mostly gone.

The mugger groaned and pushed himself to his hands and knees. The other man stood and pushed down on his back with his thick sole until the attacker was on his stomach.

“I’m gonna crush your ribs if you don’t get outta here. Now.” He jabbed the mugger’s side sharply. “Go!”

The man scrambled up to his feet and wheezed. He stumbled away and the other watched him until he disappeared. Finally, he turned to you and held out your goods. You took them shakily and shook your head at the vitamin water. He bent to grab your purse and your phone and held them out in turn.

“You okay?” He asked.

You nodded and took them shyly. You never said much to anyone but even if you tried, you expected your voice wouldn’t rise. You huffed at the broken strap of your bag and the scratch across the back of your phone. The screen protector was a spider web of cracks and you were thankful it wasn’t entirely fucked.

You clung to everything and warily sidestepped the man. You dropped the wet bottle in the stinking bin behind him and turned back. You looked at him and froze. He was taller and broader than the man who attacked you. He still held the knife and could do worse.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine.” He slid the knife into his pocket. “He didn’t cut you?”

You shook your head again. Even as his face was shrouded in shadows, you couldn’t look directly at the man. You never really looked anyone in the face, you often spoke to their shoes or the void above their heads.

“You live far?” He asked and again he received a negative gesture. “You want me to walk you? Or I can watch?”

Your eyes widened at the spatter of rain against the concrete.

“Miss,” he said with exasperation.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” You whispered as if convincing yourself too.

You slipped past him quickly and he stepped back with a surprised stammer. Your soles slapped the pavement as you rushed away from him. You couldn’t be sure he wasn’t as bad as the other man. He might follow you home and try to get even further.

But he didn’t pursue you. You didn’t hear his footfalls behind you, only the steady fall of rain.

“Good night,” you heard quietly as you got to the corner.

You didn’t look back and kept on around the bend. You sprinted all the way to your building at the end of the side street and fumbled for your keys at the door. You took a breath when you were inside at last. You were lucky but not many downtown were. That wouldn’t happen again.

🌆

After your close call, you didn’t return to the convenience store for several days and you only did so in the daylight. You had a rare day off and the spree of rain finally ceased. The sun beat down on the buildings and reflected hotly off the sidewalks. There wasn’t much to do, or much you could afford to do, so you didn’t do much in your free time.

You had to get out of your apartment, had to enjoy the nice day before you were once more trapped behind a desk. You walked up to the store and grabbed an ice cream bar from the freezer. You paid in change and claimed your treat with a tight-lipped smile.

As you approached the door, it swung outward and you retreated before you could collide with the other body. You muttered a sorry and stood aside as you waited for your path to clear.

“Hey,” the deep voice was familiar and sent a chill through you. “It’s you.”

You looked up at the man as the ice cream added to the cold flow through your veins. The same grey hoodie and broad shoulders. The man’s deep blue eyes shone beneath his tidy undercut and a thick beard trimmed his chiseled jaw. He was less sinister than the shadow you met days before.

Your eyes quickly flitted away as you remembered yourself and you looked at the door. You nodded as you cleared your throat. Speak, goddamnit.

“Thanks…again,” you croaked weakly. “S-sorry, I’m in your way.”

You tried to step around him but he was still firmly planted in front of the only exit.

“Wait,” he said gently, “Hey, I… don’t wanna seem weird but I was worried about you.”

“You don’t know me,” you said quietly to his shoes.

“Yeah, but that’s a scary thing to deal with.” His voice was firm but comforting, almost warm. Your eyes clung to the tattoo between his thumb and index finger.

“But…” you swallowed, your ice cream would start to melt soon. “You helped me. I’m okay now.”

“Well, good,” he said and finally moved. “I’m happy I could help.”

“Thanks.” You reached for the door but he beat you to it. He pushed it open and held it for you, forcing you to brush against him as you left.

“Be safe.” He called after you as the door chimed and you stumbled out onto the sidewalk, barely missing another pedestrian.

You crossed the street and stepped over the low hedges between the café and the pawn shop. The small park was oddly peaceful amid the chaos of the city and you didn’t mind sitting under the shade of the fragrant leaves. You sat at an empty picnic table and unwrapped the chocolate dipped bar.

You listened to the birds and watched the squirrels as you ate. You pulled out your phone but didn’t have enough data left to do much. You put it down as you licked clean the little wooden stick and shoved it back into the wrapper.

You flinched as a shadow blotted out the sun and you blinked up at the figure as it stopped before you.

“You again.” He smiled and your eyes fell back to the grass around his boots.

You crumpled the empty wrapper nervously and let out a nervous, “heh, yeah.”

“I’m not… following you.” He said and chuckled. “I know we kinda keep running into each other but I swear, I’m not some creep.”

You nodded and watched his fingers straighten. The ink on his knuckles made you nervous.

“Can I sit?” He asked.

You looked beside you as he pointed to the bench and you shrugged. “Could I stop you?” You uttered.

He turned and sat beside you. He took a breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a pack of smokes. He opened it and offered you one. You shook your head and he closed the carton, tucking it away without taking one himself.

“I won’t smoke around ya then,” he said. “I’m Andy.”

He held out his hand and you eyed it. Your lashes fluttered nervously and you squeezed the garbage. He waited patiently. You felt the heat on your neck and you reached to shake his hand. He gripped yours firmly and his strength made your wits flurry. You gave him your name and looked down at your lap as he let go of you.

“I don’t blame you not wanting to talk to strangers. Especially around here.”

You stayed quiet and twisted the wrapper around the stick. Your leg jiggled and he ran his nails over his jeans.

“Maybe you’re just shy and that’s okay too. I just thought, well, there’s a lot of shady characters around here and it’s good to have someone lookin’ out for ya.” He scratched his beard and leaned back against the table. “I just wanted to say that if you see me around and you need someone to scare off the other hounds, I’m more than happy to give them a good bite.”

You pushed your tongue against your cheek and stilled your leg. You nodded.

“Alright,” he stood and the whole table shifted with his weight, “Now, I’ve said my peace. You take care of yourself.”

“Thanks,” you wrung your hands around the bending popsicle stick entwined with the wrapped.

“Oh, and… I think I grabbed the right one.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and you noticed the awkward shape jammed into the pocket. He revealed the bottle and placed it on the table. “I’ll see you around.”

You stared at the label. It was the right flavour. You looked up and watched him head out along the path. He unzipped his sweater as he went on and pushed his hands into the pockets. You pinched your lip with your teeth and took the bottle of water. Maybe there were nice people in the city or maybe you were just that pathetic.

🌆

Back at your building, you were relieved to be out of the sun and the stifling humidity. It would be a rough summer and your box fan would do little to stave off the heat.

After your run-in with your hero, you decided to take a walk and finished the entire bottle in your casual stroll around the paths and the little creek on the other side of the park. It was later than you thought when you got back and fought with the jammed key slot.

You opened up the inner door of the lobby at last and grunted with frustration. Not only did the slot threaten to bend your key but the door was heavier than you. You climbed the first short flight of stairs and grabbed the old banister to continue your trip up the winding case.

You stopped as the platform above creaked and as another resident came down with a basket of clothes in hand. You stayed at the bottom to let them pass but as they descended, they stopped a step above you. Your name had your head up and your eyes, for the second time that day, met two stunning blue irises.

“I didn’t know you lived in this building,” Andy said as he cradled his laundry and turned to face you. “Small world.”

“I didn’t--” your words dwindled and you focused on the lip of the basket instead of his face. You didn’t talk to your neighbours, not since the old man had threatened to choke you in the lobby.

“I just moved in.” He said. “My first place since… well, the first place I’ve had to myself.”

“Oh,” you breathed and picked at your frilly shirt.

“Well, let me just get out of your way,” he angled away from the stairs. “I’ll probably see you around. Don’t hesitate to say hi.”

You nodded and gripped the railing as you continued up the stairs. As you reached the platform, you glanced back and he was still watching you. He smiled and finally turned away, heading towards the laundry room as he began to whistle. You climbed the next flight and took a breath.

Coincidences happened but you just couldn’t handle so many at once. Andy had been nothing but nice, he saved you from being robbed and he even replaced what he didn’t owe you. You just couldn’t believe it.

People could be good, they could be kind, just not in the city.

🌆

Your run-ins with Andy continued. You passed him in the hall several times before you realised he lived on the same floor. Your suspicions were confirmed as you grabbed your take-out and saw him unlocking the door only a couple away from your own. You even managed to drop your fliers on his boots when you were grabbing your mails.

Each time, he was friendly and each time, you barely said a word. He was a curious man. His tattoos labelled him as dangerous but his demeanour was welcoming and compassionate. He was entirely off putting and you lived in the city long enough to be wary. And you were shy enough to be evasive.

You were tired after another late shift. The bus ride had you yawning by the time you reached your stop and your short walk to the building was less than enjoyable as the usual weirdos were out with the full moon. You shoved your key into the slot and swore under your breath as it refused to turn.

Finally, it pivoted and you yanked on the handle as the door behind you swished open and closed. A hand grabbed the side of the door and helped pull it back all the way. You peeked over your shoulder as Andy held it and you thanked him with a squeak before heading through.

He followed you a few steps back as you started up the stairs.

“You work late a lot.” He said from behind you.

“Yeah…” you said as you turned up the next flight.

“You work far?”

“Not very,” you replied as you turned again.

“Yeah, I used to be on nights and that was hell.” He humoured as you pressed on.

Your toe caught on the lip of the top step and you went hurtling forward. You tried to catch yourself and cried out as you landed on your wrist and felt an agonizing twinge. You hissed and turned over, holding your arm as it throbbed.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked as he stooped to look you over.

Your purse had landed in the corner of the platform and your flat had slipped off in your descent. Embarrassed, you lowered your arm and nodded. “I’m fine. Just… hopeless.”

“Here,” he took your shoe from the step and slid it onto your foot. “Hey, it happens. I almost did the same thing the other day.”

He paused and you felt him staring. You looked him in the face nervously but his eyes weren’t on yours. You felt a tickle as he pulled your skirt back to your knee. You hadn’t realised how far up it had flown.

“Let me see your arm,” he said as you rested it on your leg.

“No, it’s fine, I--” You waved him away with your good arm and but he took your other gently and bent to look closer.

He tutted as he touched the flesh and you winced.

“It’s swelling,” he felt firmly along your wrist, “I don’t feel a break but a sprain is a serious thing.”

“How do you--” you stopped yourself. “I’ll be okay.”

“You need to wrap it.” He let go of your arm and stood.

He grabbed your other elbow and helped you to your feet. He stepped up onto the platform and scooped up your purse.

“You have something to wrap it? You’ll need the proper support.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that serious.”

“It is. You landed on it with all your weight. I’m surprised you didn’t break something.” He insisted. “I have something, I’ll wrap it for you.”

“Really, I can…” you voice fizzled as you tried to steady yourself. “I can do it myself.”

“But will you?” He kept his hand on your arm and guided you up the last steps to your floor. “Please, for my own peace of mind, let me help.”

You stared at the stained carpet as you stopped beside him. “Why?”

“Why are you so afraid of me?” He asked.

“I’m not-- I…” You frowned. “I just don’t know you. I-I-I’m just quiet.”

“I’ve tried to know you so why don’t you let me?”

You drew away from him and watched his hand drop. You stared at the tattoos and he curled his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, well, I guess I can start by being honest.” He sighed, “Yes, I’ve been to prison. I’ve been out for a year now, I’m finally off parole, I have a job, and I’m working to live a clean life. Is that it? You think I’m some goon?”

“No, I…” you looked at the floor again. “I don’t care about that. I’m just… I don’t know what to say to people so I don’t say very much.” You swayed nervously on your feet. “And no one ever really tried to hear me anyway.”

“Well, I can do the talking or we can both just say nothing, but please, you’re wrist, an untreated sprain can do a lot more damage.”

You tilted your head back and forth and another stab of pain went through your wrist. You nodded and looked to the wall. “O-Okay.”

“Alright,” he exhaled and nudged you lightly as he urged you down the hall.

He stopped at his door and you waited for him to unlock it. You stared inside as he pushed it open. You didn’t really know him and what you did know wasn’t reassuring. He was a convict and you were about to be completely alone with him.

“Or I can grab the bandage and meet you at yours?” He offered.

“No, no, I’m… tired. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said.

You entered and he followed. He put your purse on the small square table beside the shoe rack and you stepped out of your flats. He bent to untie his boots and left them beside your shoes. He urged you on and you looked around at the surprisingly cozy apartment. It was tidier than yours and smelled like fresh linen.

“I’ll be right back,” he gestured you to the living room and went down the short hall to closet at the very end.

You ventured past the couch as you looked around. There was a degree hung on the wall and you went closer to read it. You heard him searching the closet as you raised your brows at the framed certificate.

“Got it,” he entered and you turned away. “Ah, yeah, they disbarred me when I was charged but ah, well, it’s something to work towards. The old me.”

You bit your cheek as you stepped away from the wall and he beckoned you to him. He had you sit on the couch with your arm up as he pulled a chair close. He unwounded the beige bandage and placed the end against your wrist. He began to wind it around your arm and hooked it between your thumb and index. You watched him work and it calmed you. He pinned the loose end and placed your hand atop the cushioned arm of the couch.

“There.” He said as he sat back. “How’s it feel now?”

“A little better,” you pulled your hand into your lap. “Thank you.”

You stood awkwardly and played with the pleat of your skirt. “I should probably go.”

“If you want to or… I have some wine. It might help with the pain.”

“Oh?” You weren’t much of a drinker but you didn’t want to be rude.

“It was a gift from my parole officer since I can legally drink now. He said it better last me the next year but I haven’t even opened it. Don’t really have a reason to but… so you want a glass or should we say good night?”

You scrunched your lips and thought. You felt as if you owed him; for the night he chased away the mugger and then the park and now this.

“Uh, sure, but just a little. I don’t drink much.”

“No problem,” he stood and you sat back down.

He went to the kitchen and you listened to the clink of dishes and click of the cabinets. You looked down at your wrist and moved your fingers. Your wrist hurt a lot but the bandage alleviated some of it.

“I realised I don’t have any wine glasses,” he said as he approached, “So, I hope you don’t mind wine in a mug.”

He handed you a cup and sat down with his own. Yours had flowers around the rim and his read ‘Best Dad Ever.’

“Got ‘em from the Good Will,” he chuckled, “I’ve been meaning to replace them but you know, work.”

“Yeah,” you raised the cup and tasted the bitter red. You wrinkled your nose and he gave a low snort.

“Yeah, I never really liked cabernet but it was a gift,” he said and took a drink himself. “So what kinda work do you do?”

“I’m just a temp.” You tried another mouthful and nearly choked.

“Like office work?”

“Yeah, a floating secretary. Nothing special.”

“Mmm, yeah, I got a job down at the factory. Another favour from my parole officer but it’s not bad work.”

Your lips slanted as you thought. You didn’t say much but your face was good at filling the silence.

“What? Go on, ask it.” He leaned forward with elbows on his knees as he took another gulp.

You mirrored him and swallowed the sour wine. You wiped your lips with your sleeve and crossed your legs. “You said you were a lawyer before, isn’t it kinda… I dunno.”

“It’s different but it’s better than prison.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be.”

You looked down as silence laced the air and you didn’t know what else to do but finish the wine. You could leave then. You drained the cup and set it on the round table next to the arm of the couch. You blinked as you felt the buzz of the alcohol already.

“It might just be me, but that was strong,” you said.

“No, it is,” he put his mug down too, “like thirteen percent or something. I think maybe he was trying to sabotage me.”

You tried to laugh but it came out an awkward sniffle. You tapped your foot as you tried to think of what to do or say.

“Well, thank you but I think I should--” You stood so fast you got dizzy and nearly fell back as you held yourself up against the couch arm. “Whoo, okay, I’m going.”

“Yeah, alright,” he stood too. “It is late, I guess.”

“Mhmm,” you focused on your footsteps as you passed him and he followed you to the entryway. You took your purse and faced him. “Thank you.” You held up your wrist. “I owe you.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say it myself but… you can repay me with one little thing.”

“Oh?” You pushed the strap of your purse up your shoulder as you slid your feet into your flats and swayed just a little.

“Finish the wine with me. I’m free on Saturday, we could order dinner and maybe watch a movie.”

You pouted in surprise and your eyebrows shot up. “Well, I…”

“Friends.” He said quickly, “That’s all. You pick the movie and I’ll bring the cabernet.”

You sucked in your lip and thought. He hadn’t done anything wrong to you. He had done more than he should have for you. And you were being stupid. He was older than you, certainly. The short greys poking out at his temples betrayed at least forty years and he was just another person trying to get by.

“Okay, I can do Saturday. I work till five, just a half-shift.” You explained. “Should I meet you here or?”

“Yeah, we can do it here.” He touched your shoulder and his hand slowly slipped down your arm. He reached past you and turned the knob and pulled open the door. You moved closer to avoid it hitting you and smelled his woodsy cologne. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” you backed through the door clumsily, “thanks.”

“Saturday.” He pointed at you and then his temple, “Don’t forget.”

“I’ll… try.”

You left him and felt him watching you until you reached your door. You didn’t look back as you let yourself in and locked it behind you. You heard his own shut and let out a breath. What were you doing?

🌆

You couldn’t forget your promise to Andy. You never made plans. You were content to be alone and watch old reality tv shows and forget about your responsibilities. You hoped instead that he might forget and spare you another awkward encounter. You were never a social butterfly and conversation was like pulling teeth. It wasn’t that you didn’t long for companionship, it was that it was so impossibly difficult.

But he was waiting for you. As you passed his door at 5:46, he opened it and nearly had you jumping off your feet.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” He said, “Just a friendly reminder.”

“Yeah, I just need to get changed,” you fidgeted, “fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Take your time,” he smiled, “any thoughts on a movie yet?”

“No,” you cringed, “sorry.”

“Go on. I’ll be waiting. You can let yourself in.” He closed the door and you went onward to your own.

You pulled out your most comfortable jeans and a shirt that wasn’t too formal or casual. You changed and fixed your hair a little and switched your socks for less sweaty ones. You slid on some shoes and reluctantly left your apartment. You went to his and knocked before you dared to enter.

“So, uh, I know I said take out,” he called from the kitchen as you inhaled the scent of garlic, “but I got a bit carried away.” “Andy,” you kicked your shoes onto the rack and crept down the hall. “You didn’t have to--”

“I haven’t cooked like this in ages. Oh, and,” he turned as you peered in from the doorway and turned back with two wine glasses poured to the brim, “I got real glasses.”

“Wow, uh…” You took the stem and carefully held it so as not to spill.

“So how was work?”

“Slow.” You answered honestly.

“Saturday’s usually are,” he turned back and stirred the frying pan. “I’m almost done so why don’t you go look for something to watch and I’ll be out with dinner.”

“Okay…” you voice trailed away nervously. He wore a tee that exposed the rest of the tats that stretched up his muscular arms. You couldn’t help but stare at the skull that seemed to look back at you.

You went to the couch and sat in the corner. You sipped the wine and it still burned your nostrils and tongue. You set the glass down carefully and turned on the television with the remote.

You curled your legs up under you habitually and flipped through the titles. No rom coms, that’s awkward, and no horror movies or he’d pull that old high school trick. Maybe a war movie? Oh wait, that one’s about lawyers, that would be good. Or it might make him sad. Hmmm.

You settled on a superhero movie and waited with the intro paused. He appeared shortly with two plates and set them down on the coffee table as he sat beside you on the couch and pulled it closer.

“Nothing too special. I made my own spaghetti sauce though, so much better than the jarred stuff.” He combed his hair back as he set out your cutler with a napkin. “What are watching?”

“I’ve never seen this one,” you said as you hit play and the title flashed up, “Have you?”

“Oh, I don’t really watch that stuff but hey, never too old to start.” He picked up his fork and leaned forward. “Hope you enjoy. I might be a bit rusty. My-- People tell me I put too much garlic in everything.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” you pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and sat forward. You took your cutlery and carefully spun the noodles.

You were thankful for the loud crashes of the movie’s opening scene as it meant you could eat and not have to talk. The spaghetti was good and compared to your usual quick and easy meals in a box or can, it was gourmet. When you finished, you wiped your mouth and took a long gulp of the wine without thinking.

You sat back as you grew engrossed with the superheroes origin story and nearly forgot about Andy until he got up to clear the dishes. You offered to pause and he bid you to keep on. He was back in a moment and leaned back beside you. You squirmed and reached for your wine again. The taste was less stringent with each sip.

As the hero readied to face the villain, you emptied the glass and hugged yourself as a warmth glowed in your veins. You felt a hand on your leg as your eyelids drooped and you slumped into the couch. You could still feel the fingers as your fly was unzipped and you groaned as your limbs would not obey you.

The noise of the final battle faded and a heavy weight settled between your legs as tickles lined your neck and jaw, a final hungry kiss on your lips sealing your consciousness.

🌆

Andy’s POV

The wine was potent but Andy was sure to add a little extra kick. Her nerves kept her drinking the dark cabernet and she couldn’t taste the crushed pills through the acidity. He could taste the fermented grapes on her lips though and she moaned beneath him as he rolled her shirt up her torso.

He sat back to make sure she really was out. He snapped his fingers in front of her face and tapped her cheek. She mumbled but only lolled her head. He was done being patient with her. She was so shy it was enraging. He did everything he was supposed to do and she still wouldn’t even look at him. Oh, but she would feel him.

He ran his hands along her figure and basked in the warmth of her skin. How long had it been since he’d felt a woman beneath him? He didn’t like to think like that; didn’t like to remember the past and all he’d lost. He was trying to rebuild and this was the first step.

His hands settled on her stomach. It wasn’t flat and it was bit squishy, he liked that. He closed his eyes and pictured how it would grow. He would be a father again, and a husband. He would be the man he once was.

He shuddered and opened his eyes. He stripped her shirt off completely and bent to catch her nipple in his mouth as it spilled from her bra. He reached around her to unhook the bra entirely and yanked it from under her. She twitched but could not wake as he sucked at her tit and then the other.

He recalled that night on the street when he chased off that other man. It wasn’t the first time he saw her, in fact he had followed her to the store. She didn’t notice him slip in behind her or that he paid for a magazine he wouldn’t read. He remembered how he resisted that night. How he wanted to put her against that wall and finish it then and there.

Her pants slid down her legs easily as he backed off the couch. Her panties tasted like her as he pressed his mouth between her legs. He slung her knees over his shoulders and nuzzled her through the cotton until she soaked them entirely. He pulled them aside and continued to coax her. She came as a ripple flowed through her body and he drank up her unconscious excitement.

He tore her panties down her legs and looked down at her with heavy, hungry breaths. He read that women were more likely to conceive if they were aroused. He swiped his shirt over his head and undid his jeans impatiently. He was incredibly hard and he needed her around him.

He bent her legs, one leaned against the back of the couch as the other hung over the side. He dragged his fingers along her cunt and growled. He shoved his fingers into her and spread them. She was so tight it made him throb.

He pulled out and grabbed his dick. He pressed his tip against her clit and rubbed circles around it. She muttered again and turned her head but he wasn’t afraid of her waking. Even if she did, she couldn’t stop him.

He positioned himself against her entrance and pushed his tip just inside. He gasped and bit his tongue. He could’ve cum at that. He snapped his hips against her and her whole body jerked as he reached his limit. She gurgled and he thrust again.

She clenched around him, her walls hungry for him. He rocked his hips into her and watched her squirm, her eyes flitting back and forth behind her eyelids. He bent over her and pulled her arms above her, holding her hands together against the arm of the couch. He fucked her hard as the entire couch jolted beneath their bodies.

“You like that?” He whispered in her ear. “Huh, this is what you wanted. What you were so afraid of.”

He grunted and bucked even faster. Her body reacted to his and as she came, her juices added to the noise of his intrusion. His flesh slapped against hers loudly as the movie’s effect faded into the background. He grabbed her chin and watched her sleeping face as he pounded into her.

“You want it. You want me. You want me to fill you up.” He snarled. “You want my baby inside of you. You want to grow for me.” He sucked on his tongue as his body began to tense. “I’m going to fuck my baby into you, you bitch.”

He buried his head against her neck and bit into her flesh as he came. He shook on top of her as he emptied inside of her and slowed. He whimpered as he stopped his hip and lingered inside of her. He sighed and panted as he fell limp over her.

“Don’t worry, we’re not done.” He promised her deafened ears.

🌆

You were sore and stiff. You were trapped and suffocating. As you rose back to the surface, you felt the weight over you and began to panic. Your thighs were raw but numbed and your core felt hollow. You tried to remember more than the taste of wine but it was all a fog.

You opened your eyes and felt along the shoulder against your chin. The tattooed skin smelled of sweat and you could barely move beneath Andy. As you tried, you felt him inside of you and squeaked. Then the real panic began and you couldn’t breathe at all.

You beat on his shoulders and he grumbled. You felt him growing inside of you and you flailed against him.

“Please, please, get off.”

He shook his head and raised it slowly. He sat up but brought you with him as he kept you around his hardening dick. He held you in his lap and watched you struggle with his tired eyes.

“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked languidly.

“What did you--What are you doing?” You shoved against him and yelped as he tilted into you from below.

“What did I do? Oh, you don’t remember?”

“Don’t remember? Let me go! Please.” You whined.

“Come on, don’t be like this. You asked for it, honey.”

“Wha--”

“Oh, you really are a lightweight,” he whistled, “you said you wanted me. You practically begged me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t-- I--”

“Well, what do you remember?” He purred as he subtly rocked into you. “Huh?”

“I don’t--I can’t remember.”

“You really going to do this to me? Act like you never wanted it? Like I didn’t try to resist you, honey, but you wanted it so bad.”

“No, I…” you stared at the tattoo across his chest.

“Look at me,” he gripped your jaw and your eyes flicked up to his. He thrust into you as far as he could and you yelped, “Tell me you don’t want this.”

He bit his lip as he continued to fuck you. Your thighs clenched around his but you couldn’t escape his grasp.

“You look at me when I fuck you, huh? Yeah, look at me.”

You covered your face and he pulled your hands away. He twisted your arms behind your back and sped up as he bound you against him.

“It’s alright, honey, I already filled you up nice and good,” he cooed, “This. Is. Just. For. Good. Measure.”

He spoke between shallow breaths and your own heartbeat picked up. Your eyes welled as you couldn’t resist the waves and you came with a pathetic mewl. He pulled you close and turned his face up to kiss you. He nibbled your lip and growled as he came inside of you.

You closed your eyes and waited for him to stop. When he did, he wouldn’t let you go. You fell forward and hung your head beside his as a sob lodged in your throat.

“It’s alright. It’s what I want.” He caressed your lower back, “You’ll want it too. You just need time.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #shy!reader #fic #one shot #dark fic #dark!fic #challenge #writing challenge #defending jacob

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inthesaddle · 2 years ago

Text

Is this still a medium or am I old?

Anyone else feel aimless? (I ask this as though one single person will see it/read it/respond/care?...but just go with me.)

I, per usual, am steeped in nostalgia. I just spent the better part of my night listening to Little Earthquakes by Tori Amos, followed by Ray of Light by Madonna. I’ve been watching old movies like Mystic Pizza and re-watching early seasons of Real Housewives of NY, doing it all from my bed, on my computer instead of the relatively new, nice, big TV downstairs. It’s as if I’m 20s Alison, alone in my apartment in New York, watching tapes of recorded-from-tv episodes of Friends and Sex and the City on my 12″ TV/VCR combo, purchased in 1996 when I went to college. It’s purposeful, in a way. I’m indulging. I’m going back to 20s Alison—even teenage Alison, watching TV at one in the morning when I couldn’t sleep, discovering Fiona Apple on MTV or laughing at first-season episodes of Saturday Night Live from before I was born. I have these comforts; music and media that touches a part of me that is stuffed away from the rest of myself. The part that felt the promise of the future. The part that had time to sit in that promise and that hope. Time to feel every bit of sadness, drama, anger, self-righteousness, self-loathing, ambition, heartbreak and, despite it all, optimism. There was so much time. It was safe. It was heavy, but it wasn’t real.

Or I just didn’t realize how real it could get.

I’ve wanted to write into this void many times over the last few years. Whenever I’ve attempted, I usually get caught up reading old posts; connecting with a part of my life from 15 years ago, for which I’m grateful there’s documentation. My early days of my marriage, my time before kids, my time with babies—really, my last time as only me. Again, there was time. Now it’s five minutes here and there...the rest tied up in tasks and life that is decidedly much less self-indulgent. There is no time to create anew. There is time to reread/relive/remember. Nostalgia is a drug for 40s Alison. It allows me to feel. And I feel so much.

I can’t quite articulate the emotions that bubble up when I listen to music or watch shows/movies that I connected to deeply—or even not that deeply. I don’t recall being super into Little Earthquakes, yet I can experience teenage Alison listening to it...feeling every bit of Me and a Gun despite not knowing any version of that kind of violence (even still, thank god). And tonight, after listening to that and Ray of Light, I dabbled in watching old Janet Jackson videos, namely for If. I had to see that iconic dance. I had to relive the wonder of watching Janet, gorgeous as ever, doing a dance I would pause and rewind and freeze frame and slow-mo for hours trying to learn. The nostalgia drug reminded me—I was a kid once. I was a kid who spent hoooooouuuuuuurrrrrrrs dancing. I was a teenager who took herself and the dances she choreographed way too seriously. I was not that good of a dancer, but goddamnit I believed I could be Janet.

I’m 44 now. I’m tired. I’m decidedly middle-aged. I was at Georgia’s dance recital today, watching my now eleven year old on stage. I sat next to a young mom, squealing in delight at her tiny daughter doing ballet in front of an audience. I was that young mom with her tiny daughter at her first recital eight years ago. Where did it go? Why don’t I remember enough of it? Why do I miss it so much?

How has it gotten so hard to keep time?

I want to write more music. I want to interview people I find interesting and find out where their time goes. I want to sit and do nothing. I want to do more. I want to do something that counts. I want to do something meaningful. I want to do things right and well. I want to make my family proud. I want to be present. I want to be anywhere but here. i want to be alone. I want to be with people. i want to be responsible for myself. I want a puppy. I want to teach my kids every possible life lesson.

I want. I want. I want.

Where to begin?

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sterkeyra · 3 years ago

Text

Avilio the cat

Nero returns home after a long day of family business and looks out for his black furred companion.

"Avilio? I'm home."

A dark silhouette appeared from the shadows of the room and brushed his legs. It was as if he had been lurking in the dark. Just waiting for him to return.

"Ah there you are."

Nero crouched to his knees, trying to pet Avilio. However just before reaching him, Avilio stepped aside evading the touch. With a hiss into Nero's direction, he ran away and disappeared in the darkness of the room. The brunette man sighed and scratched his head before he got back to his feet.

"Look. I'm sorry for being late. Vanno has been going on and on for ages and there was still so much to do", he said into the void. With tired steps he followed his tomcat into the dark. But his 4-legged roommate was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly he heard a noise from another room. A noise that sounded suspiciously like his little fellow hopping onto territory he was forbidden from. Nero literally jumped to action and stormed into the room.

The moment he switched on the lights, he found Avilio sitting on the closet where he stored family portaits, several antique vases that have been passed down to him, as well as a statue made of glass. He had won it from winning a juggling contest in the past and it was one of his most valued objects.

Nero could do nothing but watch, as his roommate elegantly navigated through the labyrinth of fragile objects. The neck in his hair stood up more and more the closer Avilio got to the prized statue. Helplessly he held up his hands trying to appease his miffed cat.

"Avilio, I'm sorry. I know I promised I would be home sooner today. I'll give you all the treats you want. A belly rub even. Just please come down from there."

Nero started to feel ridiculous, trying to compromise with this furball. Then again, he always seemed to understand if he told him. So he knew his next actions were absolutely on purpose. For some reason the cat knew which object was the most valuable to his owner.

He sat down right next to it and gave it a small careful poke for good measure. Furiously Nero glared at Avilio and shouted.

"Don't you dare Avilio! Stop this right now. You won't get food for the rest of…"

But Avilio did not even listen. He looked him dead in the eye with his glaring amber orbs, as he raised his paw one more time and swatted the statue from the shelf.

Nero having been interrupted midsentence first had to gulp before he rushed to action, trying to catch the fragile object. But at the same time Avilio also decided to jump from the shelf right towards him. Instinctively Nero caught his cat instead. He knew better than that, as surely nothing would have happened to this furry bastard.

Realizing that he heard a crashing sound beside him as his most valiable object smashed into hundreds of tiny pieces. He glared at the fluffball in his arms and he could have sworn the cat scoffed at him. He shuddered from anger and shouted at him.

"Goddamnit Avilio! Why do you always have to be like that! Damaging the things I treasure most!".

He grabbed him beneath his front paws and held him above his crime scene.

"Look! Look what you've done! Are you satisfied now?".

Avilio observed the scene and started purring. Nero was unsure, whether Avilio tried to taunt him or to calm him down. But there was nothing much he could do about it. Complaining to a cat wouln't get him anywhere.

Furious at his own helplessness Nero just sighed and analyzed at his shattered prize.

"Maybe I could still fix it with some glue? As if."

He let down Avilio before he started picking up the shards. Curiously Avilio got closer and sniffed at it. Nero shooed him away though.

"Stay away Avilio. There are still shards on the ground. I can't have you get hurt."

As if he wanted to protest, Avilio meowed at him. Maybe his roommate did feel bad about it after all?

He reached out to pet Avilios head. This time the dark creature didn't evade him and snuggled his head against Nero's hand.

In the end fragile objects couldn't compare to living beings. Nero would still treasure his memories of his success at the contest and wouldn't necessarily need a token to remind him of it.

Avilio opened his eyes again and meowed at him loudly. Snapped out of his thoughts, Nero picked up the biggest shards and got to his legs.

"I guess that means you are hungry. You know, you really don't deserve food for the next few days. But I can't have you starve on me either. After all you have to live to pay me back for this!"

Defeated, Nero made his way to the kitchen, mumbling how Fio was right when she said that he spoiled his cat. He was just inable to be mad at him for a long time.

His furry companion instead followed him like a shadow, with a spring in his step. When he finally got his food and excitedly munched in on it, Avilio undoubtedly must have thought:

Revenge is sweet.

#fanfiction #jen writes #AU #91 days #avilio bruno #nero vanetti #angelo lagusa #yaaay picking up old fandoms #this was a small drabble a friend inspired me to write lol #i dont usually write aus but it was a cute idea and Avilio really is far too much like a cat #cats #anime

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iffeelscouldkill · 4 years ago

Text

TSCOSI Matrix AU

A/N: *offers up* Matrix AU?

Call trans opt: received. 3-6-91 13:24:18 REC:Log>

“Yeah?”

“Everything in place?”

“You weren’t meant to be relieving me.”

Trace program: running

“I felt like taking a shift.”

“I think you like it. Watching her.”

“Piss off, Ricky.”

“We’re going to kill her. You know that, right? It’s what we do.”

“We don’t kill people. Not if we can help it.”

“You really believe that?”

“Do you have a point here?”

“Just making polite small-talk.”

“…Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Are you sure this line is clean?”

“Yeah, of course I’m sure.”

“…I’m gonna go.”

---

They had the hotel room surrounded.

The door was made out of scratched-up chrome, identical to every other lining the long hallway. Only the number above it distinguished it from the rest: 303.

The squadron of officers assembled, guns at the ready. At a nod from the commanding officer, one of the men placed a small device on the lock that fried its internal circuitry. The lock gave a beep to signal that it was open, and the officers slammed into the room.

“Freeze! Police! Hands on your head!”

Inside, the room was empty except for a single occupant, sat on a chair with her back to the door. She was dressed head to toe in black leather, a pair of heavy combat boots on her feet. She made no move to comply with the command, or even acknowledge their presence.

The officers advanced slowly. This was a wanted terrorist, and despite how harmless she appeared on the outside, they’d been briefed to treat her with extreme caution.

“Do it! Do it now!” barked the commanding officer.

Slowly, the woman got to her feet and raised her hands in the air.

---

On the street outside the rundown hotel where the notorious fugitive “Arkady Patel” had been cornered, a dark car drew up and two identically suited figures got out.

“Lieutenant,” said one of them, severely. “Our division gave you some very specific orders.”

The lieutenant on duty immediately bristled. He hated being talked down to by these goons. No-one seemed to know exactly what it was that their ‘division’ did, but they walked around like they owned the place and they seemed to be everywhere. All of them looked the exact same. And if you criticised them too loudly within their hearing – which also seemed to be “everywhere” – you could get reassigned or even find yourself jobless without warning.

If it was going to happen to him, he would at least give them a piece of his mind first.

“Listen here. I don’t know what it is you Inter-Government Response thugs think you can do here, but this is my jurisdiction. I’m just doing my job.”

“The orders were for your protection,” Lead Goon said, with that creepy, deliberate enunciation.

“Protection? I sent two units,” the lieutenant, whose name was Johnson, scoffed. “They’re bringing her down now.”

“No, Lieutenant,” the IGR goon replied calmly. “Your men are already dead.”

---

This was an exaggeration. Despite what her reputation might have suggested, Arkady Patel wasn’t one for excessive violence or force. Of course, when she was being rushed by five heavily-armed cops she couldn’t guarantee that things weren’t going to get ugly, but half the time that wasn’t even her doing. People were just idiots.

As the first officer approached her she whirled around, quickly breaking his arm and then slamming her foot into his face, sending him staggering backwards into one of his colleagues. She took the opportunity to draw her gun and fired several quick shots, hitting each of the officers’ gun hands with precision and making them drop or fumble their weapons. One of them got a shot off, and she saw the bullet make its slow-motion approach. Arkady ducked it easily and then kicked upwards at the man’s chin, causing his head to snap back.

She moved among the remaining officers with what would seem to them like preternatural speed, delivering swift blows to their windpipes, incapacitating and disabling. She grabbed a chair that was sitting off to the side and swung it into one of the officers, then used it as the pivot for an upwards flip to avoid an attack. Soaring in a perfect arc downwards, Arkady landed with both booted feet on the chest of the man who had been behind her, then lashed out and pistol-whipped the final man across the face.

Silence reigned.

Looking around at the motionless bodies sprawled on the floor, Arkady uttered the first word she’d spoken since the door was kicked down.

“Shit.”

Bringing one hand up to her ear, Arkady activated her comm. “Sana, the line was traced. I don’t know how.”

“I know,” came Sana’s voice in her ear, grim. “They cut the hard line. There’s no time – you need to get to another exit.”

“Agents?”

“Three of them.”

“Goddamnit,” Arkady cursed.

“You can make it, Kady,” Sana said in her Captain voice, strong and sure. Arkady almost wished that voice didn’t work on her, but she felt her breathing ease a little in spite of herself. “There’s a store you can use; second cubicle from the end has an active connection. It’s at the intersection of Rosalind and Jemison Street, opposite the security consultancy.”

Arkady barked a laugh. She couldn’t help it. “Nice.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Sana said. “Go.”

Arkady was already moving. The quickest way to reach the intersection Sana had described would be across the rooftops. She strode to the window and, with no time for finesse, jammed a knife into the lock, severing its wiring. The lock emitted a high-pitched beeping that signalled an alarm was about to go off. But it wasn’t like they didn’t already know she was here. Arkady climbed onto the window ledge, bracing herself against the frame, ignoring the phantom tug of Matrix gravity with practiced ease.

Two grav tubes for emergency access to the various floors of the building ran alongside the window: one up, one down. There was a hatch that was supposed to only open to authorised personnel. It was more sophisticated than the window lock, so Arkady used precious seconds on a different approach: using her comm, she played a range of different frequencies until she found one that imitated the sonic key the hatch had been programmed to respond to.

She heard the clatter of boots in the corridor outside. Agents – and more cops. There wasn’t a way to prevent them from knowing her escape route, but she could at least get a head start. Arkady pried open the grav tube hatch, and risked a brief glance over her shoulder. Two identical IGR Agents, followed by about half a dozen cops, rounded the corner and saw her through the open hotel room door; she shoved off the window frame and into the grav tube as they raised their guns to fire.

Arkady twisted upwards in the grav tube, eyes on the patch of night sky she could see at the top of it. Suddenly she heard a crackle, followed by the smell of burning plastic, and cursed. The goddamn fucking Agents were using fucking lasers. And they’d burned a hole in the grav tube, disrupting the pull. Arkady could already feel the upward force weakening, but she ignored it, concentrating on the feeling of flying upwards.

None of it’s real, she reminded herself, thinking of her early experiments in the simulator, the way she’d learned to soar through the air in defiance of physics. It’s all just programming. You can hack it.

The tube slanted forwards and Arkady braced herself for her exit onto the rooftop, turning her forward momentum into a roll and then jumping up and sprinting towards the edge of the roof. She only had a few seconds’ head start on her pursuers, but without access to the grav tube, they would have to take the emergency stairs up. Sure enough, Arkady could hear the clanging of the metal stairs, the Agents no doubt leading the way with their enhanced speed. She fixed her eye on the building she needed to get to. It was a small jump from here to the next building, and from there – a bigger jump.

Arkady accelerated towards the edge of the rooftop and jumped just as the Agents’ boots sounded on the concrete. They were close, so close and her mind kept trying to dwell on it, to sink into panic and visions of what might happen if they caught her, but she refused to let it. She landed on the next roof over, knees bent, and ran for the other side. This roof had some kind of goddamn ornamental garden on it with shrubs and benches, forcing her to weave around the obstacles. There was another crackling sound, and Arkady dove behind a fake bush just in time; the laser bolt singed the leaves off the bush and travelled until it hit a satellite receiver, which burst into flames.

Laser gunfire was Arkady’s weakness; she could easily duck and avoid regular bullets, but laser bolts were so fast as to be almost instantaneous – faster than she could move, even in the Matrix. The Agents knew that. One of them was still coming, and Arkady fired a couple of shots from behind the bush before diving back into the open, deliberately picking the route most filled with obstacles to throw off the Agents, leaping over benches and pot plants. The edge of the roof was getting closer now, and beyond that, the void between it and the next building over. Further than a normal human bound by the laws of physics could jump. Arkady had cleared jumps like this easily dozens of times before, but in the back of her mind there was always that nagging voice, wondering if this was the time that gravity would reach out and claw her back down.

She shook it away, focused on the memory of Sana’s voice saying, “You can make it, Kady.” Arkady jumped.

There was a suspended one, two seconds of the wind rushing past her and then she was coming down hard on the rooftop, rolling forwards, then quickly throwing herself around the side of a protruding structure that might have been an observation point or the exit for a rooftop elevator access. She needed to get down to street level, but an elevator was not the way to do it. The odds of finding another grav tube were slim, but an outside stairwell – and not all buildings had them – would be too exposed. Every second here she wasted in indecision was another second the Agents had to catch up with her.

She heard the heavy thud of boots landing on the rooftop and knew she’d lost her lead. Arkady could hear the shouts of disbelief from the cops in the distance, no doubt from seeing the Agent fly over that gap. They wouldn’t bother chasing her any longer; but they’d never been the real threat. This showdown had always been between her and the Agents.

Arkady quieted her breathing and listened for the tell-tale sound of footsteps approaching. There’d been two Agents leading the pack of cops, but only one of them was on the rooftop with her. Had the other one peeled off to join its friend at street level? Were they staking out her possible avenues of approach, cutting off her escape route? But whatever was waiting for her on the ground, it couldn’t be worse than staying up here to be hunted and eventually fried with a laser bolt. And that was honestly the best-case scenario for what they might do to her.

Arkady’s foot nudged something that glinted – a piece of broken metal. She silently stooped to pick it up, and considered keeping it as a weapon before she alighted on a better usage. Would the Agent fall for that? Only one way to find out.

Arkady flung the piece of debris away from her with all her strength and saw a laser bolt leap out to incinerate it as she ran hard in the other direction, towards the edge of the building. She’d thought of a way down that they wouldn’t expect. But she’d never done anything like it before, even in the Matrix, and the odds were pretty good that it would end with her splattered on the concrete.

No time to second-guess. Putting one hand down on the rooftop, Arkady vaulted over the edge and into the open. She anchored her hand in place through sheer force of will – it’s not real; you can hack it – and used the momentum to swing herself down, arcing through the air and driving her feet through a windowpane in the building’s top floor. The window shattered; Arkady landed on the floor in a crouch, half-expecting the crackle of laser gunfire to follow her, but there was nothing

Did they see where she went? Were they setting a trap for her at the exit? She had no way of knowing. Part of her wanted to call Sana and ask if she had any intel, but – the Captain had other things to worry about. And she’d trusted that Arkady would be able to handle this.

Arkady moved quickly and quietly through the building, which was a deserted office block; all of the doors opened easily, no card access required if you were leaving. And there was no night security – only security cams, which would pick her up as a dark shape in the shadows. Come the morning, they’d never be able to trace her.

Arkady slipped out of a side exit and stood for a second in the shadow of the building, getting her bearings. The intersection of Jemison and Rosalind was just ahead; she could just make out the sign outside the security consultancy, which meant—

There was a movement in the shadows across the street, an Agent materialising from nowhere – Arkady bolted, and realised too late that she was reacting to a window reflection. She ducked as the Agent shot at her, feeling the heat from the laser wash over her – that was way too close – and firing blindly backwards at it as she careened towards the intersection. She could hear one set of footsteps, two, three – two more Agents were closing in on her from left and right. Breath searing in her throat, Arkady veered at the last minute through the door of the store she needed to get to, crashing through the entrance. She could barely stop to look at the signs, running blindly towards her target – there was a crackle, and Arkady ducked behind a counter, dived and rolled.

She’d landed weird. Her shoulder hurt. There was no time – Arkady staggered upright, and finally saw it – a sign for the dressing rooms. She flung herself towards the doorway and ran desperately down the row of cubicles, looking for the one that was lit up – where was it, it had to be here – there.

Arkady threw herself through the curtain and put a hand to the mirror just as the lasers incinerated the fabric behind her. She could feel the Matrix dissolving around her, giving way to hard reality. In that space between the two worlds, she had enough time for a single thought: How the hell did they trace us?

---

The Agents stepped into the wreckage of the dressing room cubicle, looking at the smoking hole in the mirror where their adversary had disappeared not a half second before.

“She got out,” said one, whose name was Agent Baumann.

“It doesn’t matter,” said another, whose name was Agent Goodman.

“The informant is real,” added the third Agent, whose name was Agent Cross.

“Yes,” agreed Agent Goodman.

“We have the name of their next target,” continued Agent Baumann.

“The name is Violet Liu.”

---

A/N: My abiding love for Starship Iris and cyberpunk continues xD Believe it or not, I started writing this a full year ago - I was on a Matrix kick, and as I watched the film I suddenly thought... a dashing crew of daring rogues fighting against The Man: who does that sound like? Honestly, the parallels are just too easy to draw. I decided that I wanted to write a version of the opening sequence with TSCOSI characters, but for some reason I never finished.

Coming back to the doc for the first time the day before yesterday, I saw that it was last edited 8th August 2020... it felt like a sign. (Also HOLY SHIT IT’S BEEN A YEAR, WTF). So happy anniversary, WIP doc: your present is publication!

#TSCOSI #The Strange Case of Starship Iris #cyberpunk AU #Matrix AU #Arkady Patel #Sana Tripathi #Ricky Q #Vikady #(implied anyway)#ficlet #fic

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sunmaylight · 4 years ago

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TGCF Book 2 Reaction pt. 4

Okay. Let’s finish this for book 2, then I can post stuff about book 3 after this

I have decided to split instead of my OG plan because like I said last post, my reading app decided to cram Ch 82-88 into one reading count, so I got a counter that said that Ch 82 has like 100 some pages and I firmly decided that I will read that later.

I said and did what I promised and became a wreak after the end of book 2 cause of all of the drama and development that happened. Book two is literally about Xie Lian growing up and I got so emotional from the environment that forced him to.

Ch 82: The effects of the aphrodisiac-like drug were paused somehow.

- Me: Hm, was it cause Xie Lian cut himself and drained some of the blood away? Or was it cause some of his blood mixed with Hong Hong-Er’s blood was inserted into his bloodstream. Wait, if that is true. Xie Lian is lucky with his divinity he doesn’t get blood poisoning.

The affects of the curse-drug are affecting Xie Lian and the novel is slowly climbing to the R-18 levels based on sounds.

- Me: Oh, Hong Hong-Er. I wish you luck and that you NEVER find out what those sounds mean until you are older.

Xie Lian ties a piece of his hair to Hong Hong-Er’s finger on one hand.

- Me: Wait, if Hong Hong-Er becomes Hua Cheng in the future, then...oh! This is where the red string ring on his hand comes from?

* Learns about Ch 83 *

- Me: Wait. -checks table of contents- *sob* oh thank god. There are like four more chapters to go instead of one really long chapter

Ch 83: Xie Lian pulled a Nagito Komaeda.

- Me: *Sob* Xie Lian, no! I understand why, but nooooo!

Feng Xin and Mu Qing find Xie Lian on the ground with the sword and freaks out. Then once Xie Lian is out, they explain that Yong’An has hidden backers secretly supplying them supplies for war.

- Me: Fu-dge. It’s getting bigger than expected.

Xie Lian comments to his retainers that the Young Solider has the potential to wield the Sabre, like Mu Qing. Mu Qing: *Unreadable expression*

- Me: Oh, is Mu Qing jealous? I think Mu Qing is jealous of a teenager

Back at Xian Le: Xie Lian runs into Hong Hong-Er again. Hong Hong-Er says he got kicked out of the army because...

- Me: ...Did baby Hong get kicked out the army because the army found out about his cursed existence? *Gasp* What if Mu Qing did something out of spite/jealousy.

Ch 84: First victim found to possess the Human-Face disease is found in Xian Le. Everyone starts to freak out because of the large commotion it made. The ‘Face’ is revealed to be functional somehow.

- Me: *Reading the description* Oh gods. I think I’m going to be sick.

Hong Hong-Er tries his best to help Xie Lian do damage control

- Me: Awe, Hong Hong-Er. How adorable. You are trying to seek attention

Hey, remember the child of Lang Ying that was buried near the temple? Yeah, it became a curse/demon after being buried for over a decade without proper rites.

- Me: *Sigh* Why am I not surprised. Actually, I am very surprised. This was near a sacred place and NO ONE noticed this slowly growing into something dangerous an alarming rate.

Human-Face disease is growing and people are desperate. They turn to Xie Lian thinking he could do something instead of trying to find an alternative solution.

- Me: Man, I am so glad for modern medicine and the ability to have multiple paths taken to try and find the solution to this problem.

Learning about Human Face disease

- Me: Will make another post for theorization of how the disease come to be, but for now.

- Me: Wait, if the cursed child grew from almost over a decade ago, then that means Hong Hong-Er is like around 15 now...Holy shit.

Ch 85: Xie Lian created an idioms punishment if Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s arguing went out of control

- Me: Aww, how cute. This will also be good practice to familiarize one self with literature and language.

Guoshi asking Xie Lian the hard, but necessary hard questions. Scolding Xie Lian for his naive ways of thinking and he should have listened to Guoshi from the beginning. Says that this matter with the kingdom of Xian Le is going out of control cause of Xie Lian

- Me: I know that the Guoshi is trying to drill the important stuff into Xie Lian’s head. But he is also at fault for omitting/withholding important information that Xie Lian should have learned

- Me: Flipping balancing act, that is ugh.

Yong’An troops is now classified as an army. The battles become bigger. Lang Ying is shown in a one-on-one battle with Xie Lian that he has a Deus Ex Machina effect attached to him

- Me: Oh no. That is not good. That is a sign of the shift in power and Xian Le will, the inevitable is coming.

Human-Face Disease: Becomes sentient and eats and screams

- Me: O-oh *Blegh* Not good.

Ch 86: Xie Lian took a nap and woke up to a quilt on him

- Me: Who placed that on him? Hong Hong-Er? Did you do it?

The rapidly declining situation is now affecting Xie Lian to the point that he snaps. He punches a tree. Scared of the enemy and is getting desperate?

- Me: “To rise is human. To fall is also human” Shit, that is coming true now.

Xie Lian trying to call out for the White-Clothed Ghost. Said Ghost appears & tells how the Human-Face Disease came to be to Xie Lian

- Me: I already made a post about this. No need for repeat

- Me: The Human-Face disease. I am actually curious how it came to be.

Ch 87: Reveals the origin of the Human-Face disease in his bedroom to his retainers. Knows how to cast, but no cure

- Me: Oh god. It is a curse with no counter spell. Oh no.

Xie Lian and Mu Qing are fighting. Feng Xin, stays quiet until he can’t take it anymore and snaps.

- Me: Ah, a fallout? No, an argument. This is the start of the splintering between these three. Mu Qing always says the blunt truth with no consideration of how this will affect people later.

Earthquake? Happens later. Qi Rong jumps out from under the bed

- Me: Oh no. Fu-dge, it’s bratty Qi Rong. He is going to blabble, I can feel it

Ch 88: Xie Lian calls upon a giant golden statue of himself to hold up the Celestial Pagoda from falling

- Me: Wow! Gundam. Xie Lian can control an ancient Chinese Mecha. Wait, *inhales* o-oh. Atlas. Xie Lian is now representing Atlas.

Xie Lian’s strength is failing him. All he can do is hold up the pagoda.

- Me: Xie Lian is losing belief. No, not that. Also is anyone going to do anything to evacuate precious items form the Pagoda before it will eventually fall?

Qi Rong blabbles about the Human-Face disease. It makes everything more stressful for Xie Lian

- Me: Goddamnit, Qi Rong. I called it.

The outbreak of the Human-Face disease in the capital + Yong’An finally invaded the capital, people going to Xie Lian asking him to fix them even though he can’t. All of it builds up and then Xie Lian falls and breaks his leg. After, changes as something indescribable is lost.

= Me: ...oh Xie Lian.

- Me: Depression...?

Xie Lian thinks he is a god of misfortune. Watches his temples burn with no emotion. Empty.

- Me: ...Xie Lian. I can’t understand how you are feeling, but the void and empty feeling? I can relate.

There is one temple of Xie Lian that was going to burn, but stopped. It is revealed a young teen has been protecting this temple. A painting of Xie Lian is revealed.

- Me: ..Hong Hong-Er is that you?

Xie Lian decides to let this teen see him on whim for a second. His retainers and the teen are surprised. Xie Lian tells the teen to forget him,

The teen: “IN MY HEART, YOU ARE GOD!” “I WILL NEVER FORGET YOU!”

- Wow. I can hear the theme music play in an uplifting tune.

MXTX Author’s note read

- Me: Wow. All of this story so far for this one image. Amazing.

Okay. Book two got me emotional like I said before that I read straight to book three next. Once I have a good place in book three, I will do a post then

#sunmay rambles #sunmay reads tgcf #sunmay reads tian guan ci fu #sunmay reads hob #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #tian guan ci fu novel reaction #hob #heaven official's blessing #hob spoiler #tgcf spoilers #the end of the long emotional roller coaster for Xie Lian #Now there is more questions I want answers to #Especially how did he gain the cursed shackles and Ruoye

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mysmedrabbles · 6 years ago

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RFA Comforting an MC with Terrible Period Pains

requested: by anonymous

a/n: oh my god the header is a MOOD for this ask. enJOY and hAVE FUN READING THIS therES SO MUCHCOFFEEINMYSYSTEMHHHHH want to support my period-ic writing ayy see what i did there? then feel free to buy me a coffee!

warnings: aside from that terrible pun you just witnessed? n/a

-AAAAAAAARRRGHHHHHH mod alex

Jumin

-he finds you clutching your stomach, sweat beading your forehead as you move from uncomfortable position to uncomfortable position, mastering positions he’d figured only Elizabeth the III could do

-worry creases his forehead as he rushes to your side, touching your side gingerly, almost scared that you’ll crumble under his fingers, but all you do is let out a pained groan, unable to speak as the pounding in your head grows louder with each stab through your gut

- “mC aRe YoU dYiNg???”

-through pained gesturing, he finally understands that you’re not dying, just going through a torture worse than death

-has no idea what to do, just lays down with you, holding your hand and rubbing soothing circles on your back

-as soon as you finally fall asleep, he’s calling the doctor, wanting a professionals opinion on how best to lessen your pain

-poor doctor in his mind is probably like, “you,,,could have looked this up,,, on your phone,, that you used,,, to call me,,,,,,,, at 1 IN THE MORNING”

-he feels awkward, not being able to help you with more than a hot bottle on your stomach and keeping you company, running his hands through your hair and massaging your temples as he sits with you, helping you the only way he knows how, by rambling about the stock market

-at some point you tune out what he’s saying, focusing on his voice and the comforting patterns hes tracing on your skin

-you can bet that he buys you the most expensive german chocolate, anything that you want, anything you crave will be imported right away and be on your front doorstep the next morning

-he most likely has a calendar app on his phone where he keeps approximate track of your cycle so that he’s always prepared to give you extra special attention and care

-when he goes on business trips that last longer than a week, he has a box specifically made, kind of like a care package containing but not limited to:

-the finest chocolate (10 different kinds! with a surplus of your favourite!)

-those emergency hospital crack-and-place heat packets, good to keep on your lower back and uterus

-oranges and broccoli (though these tend to be in the fridge)

-with a small note on how much he loves you and will see you tonight on call, telling you to take care of yourself and leaving the doctors phone number in case of an emergency

Jaehee

-she KNOWS the pain,, she K N O W S

-im not saying that at some point your cycles start happening at the same time, but thats exactly what I’m saying (i have no idea how this happens irl but it does and?? idk its odd)

-so generally the two of you are sitting home together, laying sprawled on the couch, 4 Ibuprofen between the two of you as you watch Zen’s old musicals, watching Jaehee sleepily hum along as she holds you against her chest, stroking your hair and bringing up your hand to her mouth, kissing your knuckles as the two of you fall asleep together

-she knows you have a harder time than her when your period rolls around, so she has a tendency to insist that you don’t stress yourself out at work, keeping you mostly behind the counter where you’re not carrying hot liquids for too long.

-helping you out whenever she can, hugging you from behind as you struggle to stand on your feet, giving you momentary support as she takes the cup from your hands, instructing you to sit down

-no one has ever seen her so lenient with someone when it comes to work

-you log onto the server to gush about Jaehee, posting pictures of her running around at work, helping customers, “ThAtS mY wIFe Y’aLL”

-she has a special coffee brew that she only breaks out when you’re in severe pain, added her secret ingredient (which she refuses to tell you about) that somehow make everything better

-practically begging her to judo kick you in the spine because goddamnit it hurts so bad (she doesn't, opting for a soothing massage instead)

-kisses and cuddles galore, she puts the care in “caring for you,” to the point where she doesn't complain about her own mediocre periods upon seeing just how bad the pain is with you (please take care of her anyways she deserves the best)

Yoosung

-listen,, this boy grew up with sisters and a mother, he’s practically a pro when it comes to helping you out

-the second he sees you rush into the restroom in a panic, he’s already getting the pill bottle and hot bottle out, doing the bed the way you like it and pulling out your favourite blanket and warm stuffed animal

-insists to take care of you the whole time, and is willing to skip school to stay home with you,, its only after threatening him from the bed, wagging your finger weakly at him does he actually go, however he’s one to send you worrying text messages through the whole day, and silly photos of a leaf he saw or a funny cat meme

-he cooks for you like theres no tomorrow, and is always extremely apologetic when he gets home an hour later than normal due to grocery shopping, only to find you having finally fallen asleep, stuffed animal discarded neatly on the bedside table, hugging his pillow instead

-his eyes soften, heartrate slowing down as he gazes on your sleeping form

-trying his best not to disturb you, he tiptoes out of the room, getting your favourite dinner ready, and trying his best to make something with your preferred chocolate

-you hobble out of the room sleepily, the smell of food drawing you to the kitchen

-he’ll immediately drop everything, running to you as he helps you to a chair, chiding you for getting up and straining yourself when you could have just called for him

-playing video games together lazily, him joking that he should let you win, but this just drives you to beat his ass in mariokart, absolutely demolishing him with no mercy

-he sits there shell shocked as you sit next to him grinning

Seven

-he’s versed in over five languages, survived the worst years of his life, is number one in the Shooting Star Server, the best hacker on the planet, and yet he has no preparation on how to help you through periods

-he knows the basics, but seeing you in such pain makes him rethink everything he thought he knew

-he sees you constantly shifting, arching your back in a vain attempt to crack it, crack any bone for momentary relief, and decides this is his time to shine and help you somewhat

-he gives the best back massages, working the pressure points on your lower back, and getting out all the knots in your shoulders, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades as he goes along, fingers working on the entirety of your back.

-shares his Honey Buddha Chips with you, even letting you take three or more bags, as long as you promise to not waste any that is.

-keeps you away from spicy foods, dairy and phD pepper, his technical knowledge had gotten him that far at least, and even though you’re more than happy to eat junk food for a week straight, for the first time ever he insists on eating better, giving you foods such as salmon and oranges,, only after heavy persuasion and multiple times of you threatening him does he let you have chocolate

-he stays with you the whole time, making sure you’re laughing and taking care of yourself, trying his best to ease the pain with terrible terrible jokes and horrible Saeran impressions

-he knows that you dont like having a heating pad on your stomach because its so weird barely being able to move and having to stay in one place, so he places his laptop on your stomach, letting it overheat on your pelvic area as the two of you play fireboy and watergirl

Zen

-before we start i just wanna say Zen is 100% the type of guy who would hold no disgust or immature “ew thats icky”type attitude to the thought of buying his s/o menstrual products and he looks down on any man that does have that attitude

-he’s not quite versed in how to help you, but he’s a fast learner, and would rather rely on your own reactions to his help and seeing what works for you as opposed to just asking the void that is the internet what is supposed to help

-he’s one to carry you everywhere while you’re on your period, not letting you strain yourself for fear you’ll get off balance, fall and hurt yourself, and he’s constantly referencing you as his prince(ss), even more than usual

-singing you to sleep, letting his melodious voice wash over you as he holds you close, letting his natural body warmth keep you warm

-strokes your hair as you lay down, exhausted from all the pain, your body physically not able to stay awake anymore, practically blacking out

-if you cry, he’ll hold you, massaging your back and whispering soft comforts in your ear, but inside he’s pained by the distress this is causing you, and is mainly frustrated that he can’t do more

-sometimes he wakes up early in the morning to go for a jog or get breakfast for the two of you, and he’ll leave multiple sticky notes with sweet messages, ensuring that he’ll be back soon and to take it easy until he’s back home

-this man with Refuse to let you strain yourself in Any way, and will drop Everything to run over if he sees you so much as bending over to pick up something, practically throwing himself over the dropped item and insisting to pick it up for you

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freezing-kaiju · 5 years ago

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a stupid stubborn sort of vow

an AsuRei fic, 1.5k words

Summary: After an emotional confrontation between Asuka and Hikari over the latter’s moving away, a confession goes badly and Rei finds herself having to comfort a miserable Asuka, her sworn rival. Vows are exchanged, of a sort.

(au detail: modern au, set during community college, no evangelions, au to be named soon)

It was precisely 7:32 PM, Friday, a mild September night. Rei left her window open, as ever. She didn’t have a particular fondness for the night air; she was indifferent, as she was with a laundry list of things.

That list was waning, though, thanks to the person who was now occupying her thoughts, as she did jarringly often nowadays.

Asuka Langley Soryu. Her rival. Nemesis. Adversary. Enemy, opponent, opposite... match, even. The first time Asuka declared she hated her, Rei had expected their petty rivalry to stop in a month. Asuka’d move on to the next annoyance, the next thing to be furious on, and Rei would be left behind as ever, ready to proceed on her way.

But Asuka stuck. Through third grade, fourth, fifth, all of middle school and now two years of high, Asuka was a thorn in Rei’s side, and Rei a thorn in hers. Rei supposed Asuka was, aside from her brother, the closest thing she had to a friend.

And Asuka loved to argue.

So the duo whiled away the nights over the years making up a host of feuds. Any topic that came to mind, Asuka’d take a stand on, Rei’d pick something opposing and stick to it as much as Asuka stuck to hers.

Asuka loved pop music, the kind she could dance to. Rei picked classical, the only kind she listened to. Asuka preferred magical girl anime, Rei decided she prefers shonen. Asuka argued the best fruit was apples, Rei countered with pomegranate. Sometimes they’d spend a whole evening trying to come up with what to fight over and end up dozing off side by side on Rei’s bedroom floor.

Tonight though... well, tonight, Rei hoped Asuka wouldn’t come. Not that she didn’t look forward to another bout with her, of course. But, well...

She put her book down for a moment, marking it with one of Monday’s completed worksheets, and picked up her phone. No texts from Asuka. She tapped the contact regardless, and stared at their brief exchange from that afternoon.

Asuka: sayin googbye 2 hikari 2nite Asuka: *goodbye, FUCK Rei: Ah. Asuka: leave the window open ncase i fuckup Rei: I will. Good luck. Asuka: fuck u wonder girl Asuka: dont need ur luck Asuka: seeya, h8 u 4ever Rei: You too.

Rei treasured those interactions. But she knew Hikari was more important to Asuka. Sometimes, when they went on hikes to out-endure each other or exploring abandoned buildings to see who chickens out first, Asuka’d ramble about how long she’d had a crush on her best friend. How much she wanted to kiss her, hold her hand, how she was sure Hikari’d be the one to always stick with her, the one she could spend the rest of her life with.

Needless to say, Asuka had been pretty pissed about it. And paranoid, and stressed, and panicked, and above all sad. Rei knew by now how to tell apart the various shades of anger on her emotional palette, but the past week had seen a roiling blend of all the worst.

Rei placed her phone back down on her desk, an island in the void of mostly empty space, and picked her book back up. The Horse’s Song, another in her carefully organized shelf of nondescript books. So far it failed to provoke anything, but the clipped pace and strange dialogue kept her attention well enough. Asuka would tear the book a new one, if Rei convinced her to read it. She’d save that idea for another topic-less day.

Seven pages further in, a sound split Rei’s concentration. The clang of someone tripping over that bucket Shinji still hadn’t found a place for. A scream of “FUCK!” Hard footsteps on the grass.

Rei put aside her book, turned her chair to the window and placed her hands on her lap.

After a few moments and a series of loud slams, Asuka’s hands slammed onto the windowsill. The paint on her nails was chipped. She groaned and slowly lifted herself up, eyes fixing right on Rei’s. Her expression twisted into her customary glare, but wavered, unable to stick in its natural state. Her makeup ran like a storm drain down her face, blue eyes red from crying, hair clips barely holding on. Her cheek bore an unexpected bruise.

“I’m here.” Rei softened her monotone, hoping that the sentiment overcame her blank expression. Evidently it passed muster; Asuka’s glare shifted slightly, her grimace twisting into a sweet sneer.

“Yeah, I can— Ugh,” Asuka grunted as she clambered the rest of the way through the window, “I can see that, Wonder Girl.” She kicked off her shoes and flopped back-first onto Rei’s bed.

“Your makeup’s running.”

“I know.”

“You were crying.”

“I know.”

“You have a bruise.”

“I KNOW!” Asuka snapped, bolting upright. “God, you really are a robot, you know that? ‘Scanning rival, injuries detected, initiate snide remark protocol’. Ever thought about talking like a person? Asking what’s wrong?! Or hell, maybe I’m lucky you’re a robot in a meat suit, any rational human would’ve slammed the window on my goddamn hands so thanks for being a freak I guess!”

Rei paused for a moment, weighed her responses, and settled on, “I trust you too.”

Asuka took this about as well as a sucker punch. She gaped, eyes wide, balled fists going slack.

“You— wh, what even, I’m— what?!”

“The bruise,” Rei veered the subject ninety degrees, “where’d it come from?”

“Wh— oh.” Asuka covered her cheek with her hand, staring pointedly at the nothing on Rei’s walls. “...Hikari.”

“You fucked up?”

“No!” Asuka snapped. “...well, I did, sure,” she admitted with a glower, “but so did she!”

“How.”

A miserable smirk cracked across Asuka’s face. She spread her hands as if to announce exactly what wasn’t up her sleeve. “So, picture. Me, helping lug all her stupid luggage into her dad’s car. Hikari sticks behind, looking up at me, class-prez poise and a shy little grin on her, okay, gorgeous face. I’m trying not to cry. Turn to her, about to ask if she’s gonna keep in touch.”

Rei nodded, eyes focused on Asuka’s.

“And...and, like a stupid jerk, she fucking— she kissed me!” Asuka said, with the same level of incredulity as someone discovering they’re an elf. “She kissed me, and she said that she l...lov...lo...” Asuka sputtered, “liked me!”

“Oh no.” Rei could already tell where this was headed.

“And being me, I just had to panic. I don’t remember everything that happened, it was kinda a blur! But I remember...my hands were on her shoulders and I was...god, I think I was begging her not to go.” She tch-ed. “Pathetic of me. Disgusting, really. No wonder she clocked me.”

“Liar.”

Asuka gave Rei an utterly withering look, but Rei continued. “You aren’t pathetic. Or disgusting. You’re Asuka. Those words aren’t compatible with Asuka.”

Asuka’s look softened instantly; Rei could see the beginnings of tears prick her eyes again. “Goddamnit, Wonder Girl. No, you know what? Get over here.” Asuka patted the spot next to her on the bed. Rei obliged, leaving her chair to nestle in just close enough to not upset Asuka. To her shock, though, she felt Asuka’s fingers ghost along her palm... then grasp it like a lifeline to her last hope of salvation.

“Wonder Girl. Ayanami. ...Rei,” Asuka began, and Rei could tell her teeth were gritted. “You and me. Our whole...our whole rivalry. How the fuck long are we gonna keep this up?”

“When you stop caring,” Rei said instantly, the response one of the few she never thought she’d need but prepared for the sake of it. “When I’m no longer useful. When it doesn’t matter to you.”

Asuka’s answering laugh was the hollowest Rei’d ever heard.

“Right then. Then... then I’ve got an idea.”

Rei tilted her head and Asuka took it as her cue to continue. “What if... what if we swear on it?”

“How?”

“Easy, stupid. Here, I’ll go first.” Asuka scoffed, then put on her most arrogant affectation and proclaimed, “I, Asuka Langley Soryu, promise to forever be your rival, your foe, your most trusted enemy, to hate and to keep. I swear to follow you, Rei Ayanami, to the end of the world, through thick and thin, of spite and sheer devotion.”

Rei hummed for a few moments in response. “...I, Rei Ayanami, promise to forever be your rival, your foe, your most trusted enemy, to hate and to keep. I swear to follow you, Asuka Langley Soryu, to the end of the world, through thick and thin, of spite and sheer devotion,” she parroted back, meaning every word with her whole, dull, robotic heart.

Rei knew Asuka would never let her see it, but she could feel her smile radiating out at her.

The two girls laid there, for what could have been a minute or an eternity (but was precisely eighty-seven seconds).

It was a vow they both intended to keep.

#asurei #reisuka #asuka langley soryu #rei ayanami #nge #neon genesis evangelion #nge horror au #my fics #soryu asuka langley #ayanami rei

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