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sttm99 · 3 months

Text

TW..? Mentions of oral

Part 1

In as much as you loved summer for the long school break, beach days, and the opportunity to wear little clothes and even littler bikinis, you absolutely abhored the heat.

It was horrid.

And the store's air conditioning broke down the night before, so you had been stuck in the melting pot for at least three hours after you began your morning shift, three hours until the repair man came over to work on it.

And judging by the grunts he'd been making back there, you were certain you'd spend the next hour exactly how you were, sitting back in your chair behind the counter, one of the store's only three standing fans propped right infront of you and your magazine another makeshift fan.

"The fuck- I'm boiling already!"

You perked up just slightly at the groan, already recognising the voice. You turned around to face the door, a smile lighting your face as you caught sight of those four boys again.

"Yo! What brings you guys to the best sauna in Musutafu!" You sang out, still aggressively fanning yourself with the magazine.

"Sauna's definitely right." Bakugo grumbled out, slowly pulling at the collar of his shirt as he approached the counter, "Gimme some of that fan, will ya?"

"No, me!" Kaminari yelled and practically rushed forward.

"I've got high metabolism, I sweat quicker." Sero chimed in.

But you just scoffed at them, "Hello? I'm the one in here for a five hour shift. Get your own shit!" You scooted closer to the fan, soaking in all the air.

They all groaned, Bakugo louder than others, muttering something you didn't catch under his breath.

"What are you guys here for again, anyways? More drinks?" You raised a brow.

"Yep!" Sero said.

"And we wanted to invite you for a beach day." Kaminari grinned, hands on the counter as he leaned forward.

Kirishima stepped forward. "It's just us and like four other people - girls, so you shouldn't feel too overwhelmed."

You thought about it for a while. It's not like you really had any plans after your shift. So you just shrugged and nodded.

"Sure, I get off in like thirty minutes. What time?"

Which was how you found yourself near the back of the group next to Bakugo as you all made your way closer to the water.

Not only had they stayed until the end of your shift, when one of your coworkers came over to start their time, but then they'd followed you home and waited for you to take a shower and get changed.

Your mother was a bit apprehensive about having her daughter going to the beach with four guys she didn't know, but Kirishima was freakishly good with adults, reassuring her that she was in good hands.

That and they'd all pulled out their provisional hero licenses.

"Guys!" A pink skinned girl burst into your line of sight, hurling right into Kirishima. A group of three others - not pink skinned - joined in - not bulldozing the boys.

It was easy to recognise the other students of UA; their faces had become regulars on the news channel by now.

You didn't even have the chance to be awkward when Kaminari started aggressively showing you off to the girls like some action figure.

"This is YN!

She works at that convenience store we got those drinks at!

She's so cool!

Look at her!"

It had the girls laughing and greeting you, and had Bakugo scoffing, rolling his eyes as he marched away to lay down his bag on the sand.

"Hi, I'm Mina." She greeted, her hand around your wrist as she spoke. "This is Tsuyu, Jiro, and Ochako."

"YN," you responded. "I know you guys, by the way. 'Seen you on the news a few times."

"Seriously?" Jiro asked softly as she leaned into you.

"OMG- I'm literally famous now!" Mina squealed, wrapping her arms around you tightly and jumping a bit. "Did I look cute?"

You laughed, jumping with her. "Really cute. Badass, too."

"You guys! There's snacks!"

Most of you were seated now on Mina's very large blanket, the bag of snacks and drinks in the middle as you watched Mina and Kirishima have a chicken fight battle with Ochako and Sero.

"So...?" you whispered to Bakugo beside you, taking the bag of gummy bears he was currently fighting with. "How did it go?" You asked as you calmly tore the top of the bag and handed it over to him.

He glared at it for a moment, then at you, then the bag again, before snatching it and dipping his hand in.

It took him a while to answer you. "It was fine." He mumbled, willing the tips of his ears not to turn pink.

You hummed as you put your hand out to him for the gummy bears. He tilted the bag, pouring a couple into your palm. "You guys together now, or...?"

He shook his head. "Nah... just friends."

"Do you want to be together?"

Normally, Bakugo wouldn't even dream of engaging in such a conversation with someone who was practically a stranger. It was too private and too embarrassing for him to talk about. But for some reason, he couldn't help it. Your presence was too calming, too inviting even. You seemed so void of judgement.

It was what made him ask for your advice that first time, what made him ask for your number, too. And yet there was something about you that had him sweating and unable to text, had him deleting his words every time he typed them down in your chat.

"I don't know." He mumbled, eyeing how Kaminari pulled Jiro away somewhere, and how Tsuyu went over to stare at, or talk to, some of the fish, leaving only you two on the blanket.

"You don't know?" You raised a brow at him.

He huffed, keeping his eyes on the gummy bears, knowing that if he turned his head again, he probably wouldn't able to stop himself from glancing at your scantily covered skin.

"I just- out of everyone, she's the one I'd want be with. But... I don't know if I actually do." He frowned, trying to find better words to use.

But you seemed to understand just fine, reaching out your palm for another round of gummy bears. "Sounds like you like her cause she's the best option. Not that you really like her."

He was silent as he took in what you said.

"Yeah." He mumbled.

"Oi, you guys!" Sero called out to the two of you from where he was, running around in the water with Uraraka, Mina, and Kirishima. "Come on! Don't be boring!"

You chuckled at that, leaning forward to push yourself to stand.

"Hey," Bakugo quickly whispered to you, his hand reaching out to hold your wrist, stopping you just before you could get up. "Don't go yet."

And there was something in the way he said it, the intensity of his eyes, that had you stopping, relaxing back into your position before he pulled his hand away.

He looked back at Kirishima, "I'm not playing with you idiots!" He yelled in true Bakugo fashion.

"YN?" Kirishima called out to you.

You just offered him a wave and a smile. "Later."

He shrugged, going back to running from Kiri and Uraraka.

You turned back to Bakugo. "You don't want to join them?" You asked, collecting another round of gummies.

He shook his head, eyes on your hand as they dipped into the plastic bag. "They're idiots."

You hummed, laughing softly as you popped some gummies into your mouth. "And I'm not?"

He looked up at you, brows set low, and lips curled downwards. "You're not."

Maybe it was how he said it, or how he looked at you as he said it, but your stomach tightened a bit, and suddenly, Bakugo was attractive.

You looked at him as he pressed forward to grab another pack of gummies from the bag, watching the way the muscles of his back stretched and contracted, the flow of his hair, his jaw, his neck, his biceps and forearms.

He tossed you the bag instantly as he sat back down, and you smirked at him cheekily as you tore it open.

"Can't open a bag, Bakugo?" You teased.

He turned to glare at you, snatching the bag. "My quirk makes my hands sweaty." He scoffed, picking up some gummy bears.

Then he looked at you for a long moment before speaking up again. "I'm gonna go wash them. Come."

He stood up, and you followed suit, walking after him as he led the way to the washroom, both of you ignoring the looks you knew you were getting from the others.

You stood next to the sink as Bakugo washed his hands, eyeing the pale tiled walls and floors. "So... you sweat a lot?" You raised a brow.

He turned to glare at you as he dried his hands under the blower. "That's what you got from the explanation?" He'd just explained the entire mechanism of his quirk, and all you could say was that he sweats a lot?

You shrugged, an amused look on your face. "That's the backbone to it, honestly. Bakugo's a sweaty-palmed mess." You chuckled.

He shook his head in mock disappointment, sighing. "What am I going to do with you?"

You grinned. "Get me more gummies...?" You laughed.

He scoffs before looking down at his hands in distaste, thumbing at his palms. "This shit always makes them so fucking dry."

You glanced down at his palms before reaching out to hold on, rubbing aggressively on it.

"The fuck are you doing?" He says, but doesn't bother to pull away, he steps closer, so now you feel surrounded by him.

"I don't know. But my friend likes doing this when her hands are dry. She says it helps." You shrug, your mouth going dry.

"It's not working." He says to you. And his voice is lower than usual, breathier.

You let out a soft hum, your lower lip caught between your lips as you slow your ministrations. And just as you're about to let go of his hands, he grips yours, keeping you close and leaning down to catch your lips with his.

Your surprise is short, and you're immediately wrapping your other hand around his neck and kissing him back. His lips are soft, softer than what you'd expected.

And he's gentler, too. His free hand comes to softly hold your waist as he kisses you, mouth moving against yours so softly, so sensually, you're almost squirming.

He licks into your mouth expertly, tongue relaxed as he explores, drawing more mewls from you.

You pull away for a moment. "There's no way you were a virgin a week ago." You furrow your brows at, breathing heavily, your faces still close to each other, and your hand still clasped around the back of his neck. The way this boy is staring at you and breathing into your lips has you dizzy.

"I hadn't fucked doesn't mean I can't kiss. I'm amazing at everything." He retorts before he presses into your lips again.

"You practice kissing in the mirror, right?" You pull away again with a shit eating grin.

He glares and leans back in.

"Oh, I am so right, aren't I?" You pull away again.

"No, you just talk too fucking much." He spits out in frustration as he lets go of your hand, both of his palms now tightly gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him.

He crashes his lips into yours, backing you into the door and pressing his bare chest against your bikini covered one. Bakugo groans into your mouth when he feels your breasts flat against him, his lips growing greedy.

One of your hands is tracing the muscles of his abdomen, gliding up and down the hard ridges of flesh contracting with each deep groan from his mouth, whilst the other is in his hair, pushing his face closer.

You spend what feels like an hour in there, Bakugo's mouth attacking every inch of free skin his lips could reach, groaning at the sounds you made when his fingers were gliding down your stomach, dipping into your bikini bottoms and into you.

When you finally get back to the beach, everyone is on the blanket, and even Jiro and Kaminari are back. You'd cum once on his tongue, though it'd taken a while with his inexperience and you having to keep giving pointers on how to touch you with his fingers and his tongue.

But he was willing to learn and even more willing to make you feel good. And you'd rewarded him by shoving his dick down your throat.

"You guys took a while," Mina commented with a sly look on her face when you and Bakugo sat back down.

The latter just grunted, grabbing the last bag of gummies as he sat down next to Kirishima, shifting slightly so you could sit next to him.

You gave her a look before mumbling a quick lie about a long line and poor plumbing. Not like anyone believed. That and the fact that Bakugo just casually gave you the pack of gummy bears to open for him.

"Sure." Mina murmured.

You couldn't be bothered, really. And neither could he.

Tags: @lovra974 @khadeejanaur

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo fluff

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reverseexorcist · 4 months

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Hello, can we get Sera x Winner!Reader?

The reader has hipdips, because I'm so frickin' gay and I got hipdips.

Unsure what form this would be, you can choose how to write it^^

❥ 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞 ❥

Boy I am sure a sucker for the twevle foot tall maybe but probably not homicidal seraphim. She's just so gaslight gatekeep girlfail, y'know? (Also I just love old testament style angels in general <3)

➲ Sera+ !F!Winner!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,776 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Bird tendancies for both Sera and the reader (nesting, preening, cooing), very fluffy, I just think she's really pretty, me when I saw Sera fr, slight hint of angst (exterminations), but with lots of fluffy comfort

Clouds fogged the window, the glow of the setting sun and edging indigo of the approaching night sky ebbing behind cotton fluff as the first few array of sparkling stars blipped to life. The wind chimes outside the pearly kitchen window swung softly, almost inaudible in the faint breeze - Despite the twining height of the heaven-sent spire, the topmost dwellings of the holy realm were at peace from the harshest of the winds, mostly because they didn't actually exist in such a utopian place.

You exhaled, wiping your hands messily across the front of your apron before returning to the simmering pot on the stove. The smells that wafted out from it were incredible, mouth-watering even. It was a new recipe you'd gotten from your seraphim sister-in-law, Emily, after your last dinner party, claiming it to be one of Sera's favourites, which was all the allure you needed

Sunset. Sera's workday was almost over.

You found it kind've unfair that even amongst the afterlife, there were certain angels that still had to work. There were volunteer jobs sure, something to keep peoples' hands busy so they didn't die again from boredom. But, you hummed as you thought, someone had to keep this place running neatly, and the heavenborn seemed made for this time (which, y'know, they probably were.)

It didn't make you any less salty about it, though. Winner pairs had every single hour of their artificial days to spend time together if they so desired, wandering around the bright metropolitan cities and the mellow, enchanting countrysides, and yet you and Sera spent most of your days apart. And then, you remembered with a rather sour twinge, on her rare scheduled day off a trial of utmost importance had popped up.

Marble crumbled underneath your strengthening grip on the counter, cracking pitifully before tumbling in a fine dust on to the floor. 'Whoops' - With pursed lips you waved your hands, angelic light seeling the cracks and repairing the damage you'd inadvertantly caused within seconds.

Outside noises drew your attention, a chorus of wingbeats fluttered down to the door, a holy sound so synonymous with Sera and her six wings that had you perking up immediately. Firm, yet you could tell even from the kitchen window that something was wearing on her. From the way you heard the falter before her landing and the uneased rustling of angelic feathers, there was a sort've weight to every single one of her movements that made your heart worry. Your own wings flexed nervously as you made your way over to the doorway.

Sera was already inside, brushing her dress down and picking at a few loose feathers clinging to the swoop of her neck, preening. Her brow was furrowed, probably in thought if her perpetual thinking lines meant anything, but there was a certain dullness in her pearlescent eyes.

Now you were definitely worried.

Even as you neared, it was the eyes on her crownpiece the swivelled to face you first, then the ones that dotted her enormous wings. It was only then did she sigh and turn to you with the smallest of smiles.

Tired was one word to describe her expression.

The seraphim's arms were wrapped around her middle, wings tucked tightly to her back and anxiously puffed up, the very epitome of 'something's definitely not right'. Which was certainly not something anyone ever thought of when imagining the the high seraphim Sera. And that in of itself was the problem - To see such a confident, caring and durable figure of authority so down in the dumps. But, more importantly, it made your heart bleed to see your life-partner so gloomy and still trying her hardest to not let it show (and obviously failing, which really only made you more fidgety.)

"Sera?" You tried to peer in her eyes, to gauge her emotions. She sighed through her nose, spreading her wings half-heartedly and crouching down more to your height, cooing softly like a dove. Delving into her warmth, you nuzzled against the silken fabric of her dress, wings brushing against wings as her feathers gently encased you in a warm hug. The feel of her slender fingers threading across your face, trailing down your neck till they rested on the fluff of your wing joints, rolling the downy, warm feathers gently between her forefingers as the eyes decorating her body slowly blinked closed, the tension in her shoulders slowly melting away as you returned her light touches. Trailing across her shoulders, through the sleek feathers decorating her shoulders and collarbone - Shiny like crystal, yet softer than clouds.

Sera hugged you a little tighter, palms rubbing circles on your back tenderly, holding you wholly within her much bigger being. The gentle weight of her head rested atop yours, nosing around. Bergamot and chamomile swept over you, sweet and citrusy with a hint of spice that clung to Sera's feathers, now shifted to your delicate plumage.

However, you could still feel the rigid anxiety flexing through her wings. As tightly as they hugged you to the tall seraphim's chest, they were taut and strained, not free and sleek like they usually felt with every hug. And as much as you wanted to ask, something told you that she'd reveal everything with time - Despite the sore subject of truthfulness between the two of you at the beginning of your relationship, it was something she'd worked on diligently over the hundred or so years you'd been paired.

"Sera, hun, you're tense," You murmured into her breastbone, "go relax, have a shower. Dinner's almost ready."

She seemed so reluctant to let you free of her grasp, feathers fluffing as you slowly pulled away. Lithe, long fingers trailed from your back muscles down your sides, tracing the dip in your hips back and forth. WIth a playful sigh, you pressed one kiss to her throat, then another on her jawline with a third and final smooch on the tip of her nose. Content, a faint coo warbled from her throat, eyes slipped closed before you peeled yourself away. Much to her dismay.

"Supper's on the stove! We can cuddle more after dinner," You flicked your wingtips, amused at the almost puppyish look of longing on Sera's face. Confusion creased the white flecks framing her eyes, and she wrung her fingers together before ultimately raising herself up to her full height, feet floating ever so slightly off the floor as she shuffled into the adjacent dining room (as much as one could shuffle when their feet weren't touching the floor, that is.)

Emily was right - The tired, worried, anxious look traced on Sera's face disappeared as you placed her bowl down before her, even more so when you sidled up next to her. Tentatively, her smallest wing reached out as it usually did, feathers tapping softly against your arm and own wings before wrapping around your shoulders. Satisfied with at least being in contact, dinner was enjoyed in a peaceful silence.

Outside, the windchimes danced in the breeze.

Your nest felt startlingly empty without Sera curled around you.

It was a feeling you never thought you'd get uesd to, and you always felt so small picking your way through the carefully placed plush walls, ducking your head under the twining fabric that hung from above creating an almost dome-like ceiling to shield the light of the moon away from your eyes. Sparse inside, but incredibly soft and warm to the touch, you found yourself practically sinking into the mattress, two silken pillows tucked comfortably underneath you.

Sera herself had perched herself right on the edge, one wing (the biggest one) spread out in front of her, fingers working swiftly yet thoroughly, plucking loose feathers out and righting crooked ones. Your own fingers were doing something similar with another one of her smaller wings, tentatively carding through her well-kempt plume.

The look was back, and her thoughts seemed so far away. Eyes aglow in the dim light, the stripe down her nose crinkled ever so slightly as she silently mulled something over and over in her mind.

Your fingers faltered, and she peered over her shoulder and down to where you were curled up at her side, wings sprawled over the nest like another blanket.

She held your gaze, and finally spilled those words that had been gnawing at her mind.

"They…" She opened her mouth, then closed it as if considering her next words very carefully. "Everyone knows."

You tilted your head, but with the way what you now realised was guilt had spread over her face, you knew exactly what she was talking about.

The exterminations were a contentious topic between the two of you - It almost caused you two to split within the first decade of your relationship, and it wasn't a subject you liked to think about all too often.

There was a part of you that felt vindicated. Heaven deserved to know the truth with how extreme the whole operation was, especially seeing as the exorcists just lived in and around the general public without anyone knowing, preaching about love and peace just like everybody else.

But, you knew the guilt Sera had been carrying ever since she'd made the decision. You'd had your fair share of fights that lead to one of you sleeping elsewhere at night, or even escalating to the point you returned back to your apartment for a few days just to cool off. And you'd worked past all that. Difficult, yes, but Sera was your life partner and you loved her with all your heart. Maybe in the future you'd be able to convince her to start a redemption program, like many had suggested in the past, but for now you just opened your wings and shuffled as the seraphim joined you in your joint nest.

Now it was perfect, nestled up in to crook of her neck amonst her downy feathers, indigo and gold as the night sky sat firmly outside. Blankets strewn over your legs, giant wings wrapped around your entire body - This was your personal heaven.

Sera's hands fell to your hips, thumbs rubbing against the gentle dips as her head braced against yours, dove-ish coos escaping her with every breath puffed form her nose. She was already fast asleep curled around you, all the weight now lifted from her shoulders for the time being, wings perfectly preened and delicately soft, perfect for cuddling.

Your own wings were cleaned too, a pleasant buzz tingling from where Sera had traced her loving fingers.

Chamomile tea, citrus and chashmere, soft feathers tickled your nose, and yet you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#Sera x reader #hazbin hotel sera x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x you #wlw #hazbin hotel sera

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m1d-45 · 5 months

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-Pari Anon

Pari!Reader gets sad when their leaf mask gets torn. Whether they were playing too rough or Wei (the cat in the inn lobby) tore it, they lost their mask. They have those sad anime eyes (the cutely exaggerated ones). They want to fix it, but no one else knew about that leaf mask.

They stay gloomy for the rest of the day until Xiao comes back.

The next day, they see a little replica of Xiao’s mask made from wood. It was sitting near their nest. When they tried it in, it was light but sturdy. Who could have gotten it for them? How was it so detailed? Who could have known? Oh well. Time to play, little Pari thinks.

Xiao didn’t have the heart to just leave them after he heard them crying when the leaf mask was ripped. He might have put a charm on this one so it wouldn’t break as easily.

[ previous post ]

xiao was better than this. the last yaksha, conqueror of demons, the bane of all evil himself.. searching the plains of liyue well into the night for a suitable piece of wood to carve. it wasn’t for an offering, it wouldn’t be turned into an incense bowl or statue, it was neither for a critical repair or somehow enchanted to be a danger. no, this wood would be used for a far more frivolous purpose: you.

you, who he’d been watching from the roof as you played on the balcony below. you with your mock spear and wei with his paws, uselessly batting at each other in a play fight. he thought it was ridiculous, really—your thin wings would surely bleed beneath any monster’s claws, better you learn to run away from danger—but had watched. it was harmless fun. you ducked behind the potted bonsai for protection, racing around the trunk and likely making the poor cat dizzy, when a harsh rip echoed into the night. you stopped, looking behind you as the two halves of your ‘mask’ fluttered to the floor, torn by one of the branches of the tree. his only thought was that you weren’t hurt, watching as wei tackled you off the pot and onto the floor, but you squirmed free quickly, floating over to the remains… sadly? wei followed, sniffing the leaves, but you didn’t seem interested in playing anymore. you sat by the leaves for far too long, not even moving when wei curled up beside you.

it was nothing. it was a leaf tied around your head with another’s stem, bound to rot and flake away anyway, but you were sulking the next day. he never thought he’d return to his makeshift room and have you not fly up to him with a cloud of chirps, and he quickly decided he didn’t like it. if you were sad you lost your mask, then he’d just have to get you a new one.

he kicked at the remains of a campfire, stomping out the remaining embers. an abandoned adventurer’s camp of some sort, the air free of any malicious warnings. besides the remains of the campfire were a few stray logs, likely spare firewood. he dug through the measly pile, pulling out a log. there was no rot, water damage, no sign of bugs or anything else that would ruin the wood. without another thought, he tucked it under his arm, turning and vanishing into the wind.

he had left when you were already asleep, so he could go straight to his room, but he made a stop first. yanxiao hardly jumped when he turned from the stove, though he did eye the log in his hands strangely.

“what can i get you?”

“i need to borrow a knife.”

“…” he laughed, propping his hands on the table in front of him, and xiao grit his teeth. an adepti, reduced to this… “what, did you lose your spear?”

“of course i didn’t,” he snapped, “but i’m not foolish enough to think i can use a spear to carve wood.”

yanxiao nodded in understanding, reaching into his pocket for a small flip knife. it was barely as long as one of his fingers, the handle a dark wood. “this should do, i think.” he threw the knife underhand, and xiao caught it with ease. the blade flicked out easily, sharp to the touch. “remember to cut away from you, yeah?”

his grip tightened on the knife, leaving without thanks.

safely in the shadow of his room, xiao finally relaxed. one by one, he removed his guards and charms, quietly setting them in their respective places. you were curled up in your bed as always, none the wiser as he stepped out onto the balcony. he sat facing the moon, setting his mask on the floor beside him. again drawing the small knife, he braced the wood in his lap and began to carve.

yanxiao was many things, but a fool he was not. he had heard from verr about your mask tearing yesterday, about how you sat quietly on xiao’s terrace for the rest of the day in a pout. you were a strange guest, certainly, but you were xiao’s. he kept very limited company, and those he lingered around felt his affections quietly.

when flowers had blown off their tables prior to the reception of an important guest, a mysterious bundle of qingxin had found it’s way onto the reception desk to replace them. when the eccentric xianyun had stopped by for a ‘surprise lunch,’ a small note in familiar writing on his table told him her tastes. when your small, flimsy mask tore in two… well, he couldn’t wait to find out.

he worked as usual, trading guesses with verr as he helped ferry plates back and forth. would he fetch you new leaves in perpetuity? fetch new ones from your home nation of sumeru? find a new toy to distract you? neither of them had ever met a pari before, didn’t know what you wanted or needed to thrive, but they entertained themselves with nonsense speculation nontheless.

xiao showing up in his kitchen without warning was nothing out of the ordinary. yanxiao had learned to pick out the shift in air pressure that signaled his arrival, wiping off his hands and putting the washed vegetables aside. the flat expression on his face was also routine, but the log he held most certainly wasn’t. handcarved offerings weren’t all too uncommon in liyue, especially from an adeptus, but he had a feeling it wasn’t for rex lapis or another adepti.

the next question, of course, was what he would carve. verr suggests a wooden mimic of the leaf mask and he can’t hide the way that makes him laugh, his smile wider than usual as he greets customers.

that night, if you stood just quietly enough beneath the upper balcony and the wind blew the right way, you would hear the quiet scrape of wood and metal. and the next morning, if you were anywhere near the inn, you would likely see a bright pari weaving through the levels, eager to show off their brand new mask carved by the hero of dihua marsh himself.

#m1d : [chats]#m1d : [secrets]#pari anon #WHATS UP CHATTERS #IVE HAD THIS ASK FOR 323 DAYS #FEELING GOOD (LIE)#either next up or the one after is the promised fatuiposting because. because. b. because-#pari anon pretty please dont hate me 🙏#im working on your other asks as we speak xoxo #i finally went through and logged all the asks in my inbox which ive been meaning to do forever #theres like 30+ of them but we ball we ball we ball we ball #feeling motivated n im going to try not to burn myself out again cause ngl? shit sucks #oh also happy 4/20 to those who celebrate

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thewalkingwillowtree · 1 year

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love.

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 23.

Xilä is my own creation.

Part 1 - Escape

Xilä was roughly roused from sleep. Calloused hands forcefully tugged her into a seated position, shaking her frantically.

“Wake up girl. They’re coming! Get dressed!” It was her father.

Licking her chapped lips and blinking to force herself awake, she watched as her father moved around their tiny home, arming himself with what seemed like every weapon he owned. He was dressed for the outside already- a threadbare hooded cloak was draped over his large body and cracked, hexapede leather boots covered his massive feet.

“Xilä! Don’t make me smack you. Get. Up!”

Moving quickly, she tied her makeshift, calf length boots to her feet- they would be in need of another repair soon.

“Father, what is happening?” She asked shakily as she slipped on her own cloak over her frame, ensuring her hood was secure and her nose and mouth were covered.

“Don’t ask questions. Pack whatever food we have left. We need to leave.”

Her hands shook as she used a scrap of cloth to wrap up a measly hunk of seed loaf, some shrivelled root vegetables and a small clay pot of two day old mashed beans. She had just tied off the knot when she heard distant hoots and howls coming from outside- The Rogue Warriors.

T'shteyo grabbed his daughter’s wrist painfully and dragged her out of their home. Home was putting it lightly. Their abode- like all the others in their little village, was nothing but a poorly assembled lean-to, made out of rocks and sun-baked clay. Weaved, strips of sticks and tree bark acted as their privacy screen and her sad excuse of a bed was the thin skin of deadland beast.

“Keep your mouth shut,” her father hissed harshly as he dragged her behind him.

They kept to the shadows, dodging around surrounding structures and completely dead shrubs, leaping over the deep cracks and faults that littered the ground. The sky was still dark but the tinge of purple told her that morning was near.

Panting excessively, Xilä kept glancing behind her, looking to see if anyone followed them. She felt light headed- having not been used to such vigorous activity. She also hadn’t had a decent meal in who knows how long.

When she realized where her father was leading them she dug her heels into the ground and ripped her wrist from his hold. Stumbling to catch her footing she shook her head vigorously.

“That’s the Dead Forest father. You said it was forbidden. Why- Ah!”

T'shteyo clamped her bicep in a bruising grip and pulled her close. “You questioning me now? You think you know best, girl?”

Her ears fell back and her eyes fell to her feet. “No father.”

“Those bastards back there? Su’ko and his men? They want us dead. And unless you want me to leave your pesky ass here you shut up and do as I say, when I say. You don’t question me. Understood?”

She nodded numbly and once he was satisfied with her response he turned and headed straight into the forest without another word.

The Dead Forest was exactly like its namesake. Dead. There were no signs of life here- not a single green leaf or blade of grass was seen and parts of the forest appeared to be burnt, remnants of smoke lingering in the still air.

When they had made it a substantial distance away from the village, her father stopped at the base of what she assumed was once a grand tree.

“Okay. You stay here and keep out of sight until I get back.”

Xilä perked up in alarm. He was leaving her? Here?! She was about to question him but his glare reminded her of the conversation he’d had with her that morning.

“Keep the food and don’t make a sound. Got me?” And then he was gone.

Scared of every rustle and crack of the woods surrounding her, Xilä squeezed herself between a gap in the large trunk and tucked her knees to her chest, waiting with baited breath.

She felt miserable….but then again she was always miserable. That was her life, wasn’t it? Her mind wandered to the clan- to the home she had just escaped from.

Since she could remember, her clan had struggled. Way before her birth, the lands of the Li'ona clan were well known for its crystal clear rivers and abundant wildlife, but over time the rains stopped and so the rivers dried up. Food grew scarce, the lands became barren and the people suffered.

Through the years the suffering grew worse. They had to wear boots and thick coverings to protect themselves from the harsh weather, else it caused blisters and heat stroke. There were many quakes and tremors too which caused the ground to shift and crack.

One such deadly quake a few years back was the reason they’d lost their home, the reason they lived so poorly now. That quake had also caused the deaths of many of their people- they were too few in numbers now.

T'shteyo, her father, was the clan’s Olo'eyktan and as the people’s despair and misery grew, so did their hatred for the leader. A rebellion was born- The Rogue Warriors as people called them, led by the ruthless Su’ko, tried to overthrow her father’s ruling many times over the years- threatening not only his life but hers too.

Xilä was guessing that them being on the run now meant that rebellion had been successful this time- they had won. Her father had finally been overthrown.

Night drew near now. Where did her father go? How long should she wait until?

Two days went by. She was starving and dying of thirst. The food was long gone and with every second that passed her hope faded. Xilä forced herself to think good things, clinging to the tiny remnants of hope she had left. Hope that her father had not abandoned her. Hope for a better life.

She dared not cry though. Like her father said, crying was a sign of weakness.

On the night of the third day, the loud roar of an animal in the distance woke her from a light slumber. Ears straining to hear she held her breath as its galloping drew closer and closer- until it sounded as if it were right on top of her.

The shadow of a creature bathed her in darkness- fear crippling her…and then she heard her father’s voice.

“Time to go.”

They rode for three weeks straight, stopping only when the beast grew tired. Her father had found the direhorse by sheer luck he’d said. It was massive, ugly and seemed to share the same temperament as its new owner.

Xilä had never been this far from home before and with every minute that passed by, she saw something new and exciting. Never before had she seen so much greenery, so much life. It was hard to keep the grin off her face.

Two days ago when they stopped for the beast to rest and while her father napped, she had snuck away to bathe in the stream they’d collected water from. It was glorious. She scrubbed every nook and cranny of her being, from head to toe.

Her waist length hair was still ratty and tangled but at least it was properly cleaned for the first time in months.

She also managed to wash her worn, shabby shift dress she usually wore under her cloak. It never fit her properly, always hanging off one shoulder uncomfortably. But at least it smelled clean again- like the soap nuts she had used to also scrub her hair and body.

As they journeyed, the forest surrounding them now was lush and alive, thriving in wonderment and Xilä wished she had more than one pair of eyes, if only to see more.

Xilä wasn’t quite sure where they were going, she never bothered to ask either since she knew it would only anger her father.

He had always been angry towards her. T'shteyo was taller than most Na’vi men but his frame was weak. Lack of proper diet over the years had caused him to lose the majority of his muscle mass. That meant nothing though, he was still a force to be reckoned with and through the years of constant trials and tribulations he faced, it hardened him- turning him into the monster he was today.

“We should be almost there now, if we push we’d get there in a day and a half or so.”

Xilä perked up at the sudden information her father decided to share. For the most part, their journey had been conversational less, apart from his occasional grunts of “time to go,” or “eat this,” or “shut up,” the one time she’d been humming too loudly.

“Where is there, exactly?” She asked, hesitantly.

“The Omaticaya clan,” he responded gruffly, chewing on a raw root vegetable as they sat in the clearing the direhourse was grazing in.

They had so far only been surviving on the few raw fruits or vegetables they recognized. Her father refused to hunt or build a fire to cook anything decent.

The Omaticaya clan. She’d heard about them before.

Many years ago, way before she was even born, there was a Great War. Their world had been invaded by spices they called Humans- she’d never seen one in all her nineteen years of life but had heard many horrific tales about the terrifying creatures.

The Humans demolished the Omaticaya home “HomeTree” and so a war broke out. The clan leader, the legendary Toruk Makto had called upon the aid of other clans. Xilä’s father had been one of the few leaders who responded to their call for help- leading his own warriors out to battle.

“And…you know where they live now?” She asked, wondering how he knew where to find them, even after all these years.

He sucked his teeth and grunted in acknowledgement. “Now listen here. You don’t say a word to anyone. You leave the talking to me, got it? Step a toe out of line and you’ll have it coming, that I promise.”

A rustle and the crack of a twig had them both alert and simultaneously jerking to the direction it came from. The next few seconds seemed as if played out in slow motion.

A massive hissing creature lunged out of the wilderness and attacked their direhorse that was grazing some feet away.

Xilä screamed and scrambled to her feet as her father charged at the beast, his knives at the ready.

Movement caught her eye and now there was another six legged creature edging its way to closer to the direhorse. At her gasp it snapped its head in her direction, stilling for a fraction of a second before it charged.

Xilä ran.

Pushing herself, she dodged around the illuminated flora surrounding her, screaming at the stop of her lungs as it quickly gained on her.

She grappled onto a tall thick tree root, ungracefully pulling herself up to claw her way higher up the tree. It did nothing to deter her predator as it leaped forward landing on the branch above her.

With a terrified gasp and a silent scream she slipped. Her head landed against the forest floor with a resounding CRACK. She stared helplessly as the creature above her leaped onto the ground once more, prowling towards her.

Just as it moved to pounce, an arrow embedded into its side. It roared angrily, hissing and stumbling on its legs before another arrow joined the first.

Then it finally fell. Dead.

Xilä was immovable. Head throbbing agonizingly, her vision grew dark.

The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was a flash of vibrant blue stripes and gold glowing eyes.

Hello lovelies, I missed you guys! I am finally back with another story. The style will definitely be different, but I'm hoping you guys like it.

This is kind of an introduction per say, the other chapters will be longer. Fingers crossed I have part 2 up tonight, if not tomorrow.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

Thanks for reading. Please like and comment, I love hearing from you all :)

Tag: @riatesullironalite

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully #avatar twow

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thecoolerlucky · 3 months

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I Got Roped Into Being A Hero

Chapter 1: Kidnapped by The Hero

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Introducing Matchbook and how he became a sidekick to one of the strongest hero in the world.

Wordcount: 3,300+

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some believed everyone's sudden gain in unique powers or features was due to the next step in evolution. Others said it was a crazy attempt at making a zombie apocalypse. The work of gods, a meteor that changed their biology, or the results of a secret alien invasion.

No one really had an answer. As far as everyone knew, it just happened.

It sent the world into chaos, and it took a long time for it to be calm again. Not that it was without turmoil, but they had systems in place for that. All mighty heroes watching over the cities all over the world, helping take down those that decided to use their powers against the less fortunate like...

"Hey, Match, can you give me a light before you go?" The grungy, pot bellied guy with a toucan head said as he wiggled the cigar in front of him.

You can't even use them right.

"Sure," Matchbook sighed as he let go of the sandwich shop's back door. The heavy weight of it slammed it shut behind him.

He put his fingers together and in a single snap they created a flame atop his middle finger. He offered it to Little Oscar's cancer stick.

Little Oscar chortled the best he could and lifted his cigar to meet it. "I get it, you hate me asking." He jested, poking fun at the lad.

"It's the easiest finger to light," he explained and saw himself explaining hundreds of more times in the future.

After Little Oscar lit it and nodded gratefully, holding it between his beak, Matchbook left.

He shook his hand to put out the tiny flame. He couldn't make flames bigger than that of a match hence the nickname he had since elementary school.

He wasn't as gifted as his parents or sister. His mom was a fire manipulator and conjurer, while his dad could heal from injuries at a near instantaneous rate. And his little sister was a fire breather.

She created sparks much like their mom, except in her mouth. They learned this when she accidentally sneezed as a kid and set Matchbook on fire.

On the same day, he learned he was immune to heat, just like his mom and sister.

He kicked up a pebble as he strode the sidewalk. He struck it as much as he could on his way home, avoiding the construction specialist setup repairing a damaged city block from a recent villain attack. Most people didn't have too many powerful abilities, but those that did didn't hesitate to make a mess.

He lost the poor pebble on the way when he kicked it into the fresh and still drying cement. He picked up his pace after that.

It was a long hour walk before he saw his apartment in the distance. If I still had my bike I'd get home so much faster. He recently lost it during a jelly Villain attack and the collateral claim had yet to go through for a replacement. I should move closer.

Matchbook worked at that shop for a year and enjoyed the mundane task of making sandwiches. It made it easy and gave him time to think about-

"HEY!" A feminine voice shouted far behind him.

He thought about looking back until a nearby RuuMmbBBleEe of the destruction told him to head home instead. He subtly picked up the pace. I'm not getting caught outside during a fight.

"HEY, SIR!"

Sir. I'm barely 22. He pretended he didn't hear them but they were getting closer. He wasn't good at power walking. I can't break out into a full sprint.

A hand firmly gripped Match's left arm to seize his motion.

Oh great. He turned around, holding a forced friendly half smile like he wasn't trying to ignore them a second ago.

“Oh sorry, I didn't…” He trailed off.

She let out an exasperated huff in front of him and hunched over to catch her breath. The parts of her blond bob cut hair that didn’t stick to her face from sweat fell forward as she did.

It wasn't that hot outside, it was a crisp cool sixty degrees, with a light breeze through the buildings. Has she been chasing me for a while? I didn't hear her.

His eyes drifted to the notepad in her one hand, and as she lifted her head, she smiled. Her glimmering determination reminded him of his little sister.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded, stood up straight, and adjusted her white blouse. “Yes, sorry, sir.” Do I really look that old? You look the same age as me! “I’ve been chasing The Hero around all day, and lost him, have you seen him?”

“Which one?” He mentally kicked himself when he asked. Why did I ask which one? I hadn’t seen a hero all day.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, “this always happens. Why did he pick such a vapid name?” She removed her hand from her nose, “The Hero is his superhero name.” Matchbook heard the hint of disdain for that hero's name. Although he recognized it, he didn't keep track of any other hero's besides his mother and sister.

She rolled up her sleeves, unintentionally drawing his attention to her forearms. He took note of her muscles. More defined than I ever had. She’s in pretty good shape for a journalist? If that’s what she is.

He guessed by her question and notepad.

“He's one of the strongest heroes in the world, the one who..." she curled her fist, and much like an elderly man complaining about his lawn, shook it at the sky. "Somehow has a backstory that can’t be traced back past surface level research. A person born with a power like him would have been talked about for years, glorified in the media, but it’s like he appeared out of thin air."

She continued her spiel and Matchbook bobbed his head, trying to think of the best way to get out of this conversation. He didn’t know this woman, he barely said a sentence to her and she explained all the inconsistencies with The Hero’s story. I’m not big into hero scandals.

Regardless, Matchbook politely replied. "It sounds like you have a vendetta against him." I want to go home and relax, no matter how nice you seem.

"I do." She held up her notepad, "I have been chasing that idiot all over the city! So again, have you-" There was another loud bang, and turning back, the two could see the furrow of smoke not that far away. "seen him…?"

He glanced back at her. She looked ready to run toward it.

She's going to get herself hurt. He tugged her attention back, "I haven't, but by the sounds of it, if you don’t live nearby you should get to a shelter.” He noticed the few people on the streets were doing just that. There wasn't one that far from his apartment.

"No way, it might be linked to the hero!" If she’s willing to run into danger, she probably has a power to back herself up.

He lifted his hand and the next eruption stole his chance to say goodbye. On the fifth floor, overhead, an object crashed straight through the building and partially into the one next to it. They both instinctually ducked at the noise, Matchbook covered his head and saw whatever the object was, it brought some of the second wall down with it and landed in the alley a little bit further back from where they currently stood.

The woman’s arm whipped up and grabbed at his shirt. She got him by his uniform and yanked him into her. She threw them both back. Neither of them fell, only stumbled as a few pieces of the apartment came down. They fell into the sidewalk where he once stood, exploding into dust upon impact near his shoes.

That wouldn’t have been a fun trip to the hospital.

The streets were empty, everyone either got home or went to a shelter. He looked up, seeing that was his apartment. So, unfortunately, he didn't have a room to hide in. He ran around her, expecting to hear her steps behind him. She didn’t follow.

You gotta be kidding me. “Lady, we should get to a shelter! If there’s a villain we can get hurt!” He wasn’t quite running yet—he was slowly moving toward the direction of the shelter a few blocks away.

She ignored him. She went toward the alley. What is she doing!

He followed her. His objective was to pull her like she did him.

Matchbook barely caught her whisper. “Which hero is that?”

He felt his eyes drawn to the entity standing there. The man was in a luchador wrestling outfit, adorned with a sparkling cape. Though, Matchbook tore his eyes away as it looked very very ‘form fitting’ bright red suit. That's a colorful outfit, he's probably some hero?

The man smiled, leaned at them, and threw himself forward and into the woman. Matchbook couldn’t track the speed he moved. Nor did Match move fast enough to get out of the girl's way when she went to dodge.

The man got the woman with both of his meaty hands. He squeezed at her waist and she ordered him to let her go. His muscles and body looked to swell the longer he held her. His uniform threatened to tear at the seams.

He cackled as he shook her like a toy. “You're gonna be my little hostage.”

What should I do? I can't fight him, he's huge. He was bigger than most body builders, muscles the size of Matchbook's head.

When he got close enough to her face, she threw a punch. It connected with his nose, making him coil back and cuss.

She whined as he squeezed tighter.

He might kill her. Matchbook thought, his heart pounded in his head, along with a giant whistle from farther behind him. What if it's another Villain? He didn't want to turn around and find out.

I don't know her. He heard the woman whine out again as the man laughed, ignoring Matchbook's pathetic presence completely.

He threw himself forward, snapping the fingers on his right hand, and moved his tiny flame near the villain's cape. It didn't take long for it to catch fire.

He jumped back and shouted, "OH NO, Your cape's on fire!"

The fire spread faster than Matchbook expected, bringing that man's attention off the woman. She took her opportunity while being dropped to hit the hulking guy with a firm blow to his crotch.

The man hollered, weakly undoing his cape from the ground.

The whistling behind Matchbook got louder, he ran to her and got her arm. “Come on!”

She followed his tugging and the two could hear the villain getting up. “YOU BRATS!” He shouted.

His feet pounded against the street like he grew with their fear, or at least Matchbooks.

“TO YOUR RIGHT!” A voice yelled.

They ducked to the left as another being slammed into the paved streets. His palms collided with it first and he ran on his hands for a few extra feet, making humongous hawk wings that protruded from his bare back melted quickly and rejoined his flesh. The helmet clad, muscle ripped individual threw himself up and into a standing position.

He stood much taller than the average hero, more the size of a villain. He dusted himself off, unscathed after his theatrical landing. He pressed a button on the side of his visor, staring directly at the woman and Matchbook, as them and the Villain were motionless during the escapade. His eyes were a vibrant, shimmering purple with meshes of pink.

He walked calmly to them.

“Are you two citizens, alright?” His voice carried the same sweet sincerity as a grandmother who happily overfed her grandchildren.

Match nodded.

"The Hero! I need to talk to you." She declared, forgetting about the trouble behind them. Not that Matchbook was any better.

The villain snapped out of his trance. Matchbook didn’t look back in time for the hunched man to hook his arm around his neck. He brought him up, “you stay back or I’ll kill him,” He flexed his much smaller muscles. Dangled up, unable to move out of fear that the grip would crush his windpipe, he felt small and helpless.

The Hero put up his hands and didn’t move. “Put him down.” He advised, keeping his eyes tracked on Match. I gotta do something.

Matchbook snapped his fingers again and put the flame to the man’s arm. He had never used it against someone like this, but he didn’t see much choice. The man cried out, dropped him, and the Hero snatched Matchbook up and brought him to the woman.

“Is your throat okay?”

Once Matchbook was safely on the ground, he rubbed it. “I’m okay.” He was lucky the Villain didn’t put too much pressure on it.

The Hero sighed with relief, “good. Now, you two, stay back.” His eyes shifted, though his head barely turned. His pupils looked to expand as they twisted in the villains direction. “I’ll handle the villain.” The tonal shift made him jump.

The Hero’s face rose in a smile, revealing sharp incisors that Match didn’t see before. The wrestler, or villain dressed as one looked thinner. Matchbook didn’t know if it was because he was being compared to the Hero, or because of something with his ability.

“You destroyed property, attempted robbery, and threatened a civilian’s life.” The Hero’s voice boomed, silencing everyone's hearts and breath. His statement was followed by an air vibrating laughter.

It knocked the man on his butt. His muscles were reduced so much that he looked like he had been starving for two weeks in the tundra.

“I’m sorry- I’ll g-go quietly.”

The Hero grabbed his helmet, he tossed it off. It bounced on the floor like a toy as his own size increased. His white hair flourished in the open.

“You’ll go quietly?” The Hero mocked as he swayed like a drunkard.

The fear-stricken villain tried to rise to his feet, he bumbled to stand.

The Hero stood over him, crouched down to grab him. He got the villain picking him up with one hand, wrapping it around his waist.

“They’re never quiet.”

The villain pushed desperately at his hand as the steadily growing Hero brought him close to his head.

Matchbook’s eyes couldn't look away when The Hero's mouth opened wide. It made the villain frantically yell, and it was quickly silenced by The Hero's tongue at his face. It partially coiled around the man's head before bringing him inside his maw.

Matchbook’s mind was blank. He could only watch The Hero swallow down the villain, his throat expanding as he did, and what was left outside flailing helplessly in the air.

The act disturbingly reminded him of a nature film, where a snake slowly, surely, and efficiently gulped down its prey.

Except this man was very much alive. He kept struggling even though he was pretty much fully inside him.

Match didn't know how long he watched. It felt prolonged but in reality it took a minute. The last bit of the villain vanished and The Hero exhaled into the air afterward.

The Hero’s previous devilish demeanor dropped and he smiled, childishly. He glanced down at his middle, "Secured.” He said a loud, while his midsection was lively from the movement within it. “Calm down, Villain, I'll take you in soon."

Villains eat people. Not Heroes. Matchbook thought still awestruck by disbelief.

His shoulders then rose when he saw The Hero was walking to him again.

The woman's voice, slightly perturbed, but determined to talk to him rushed forward, "YOU'RE GOING TO ANSWER MY QUESTIONS THIS TIME!" She bravely stomped to him, disregarding the massive height difference between them now. She barely came up to his knee, if at all.

She got within a few feet of him, so his stomach wouldn't obscure either of them from seeing the other. How can she even talk to him like that? Did she not see him eat someone? Does she not see the human-like shape inside him?

Matchbook took the opportunity to start walking backward from the madness.

The Hero put up his hands, as if she held power over him and his smile wavered anxiously. “I think you have mistaken me for someone else…” He poked at his stomach, “and even if I was the right one, I need to finish talking to my sidekick and get this criminal to the authorities.”

“Sidekick?”

The Hero looked over at Matchbook and so did the woman, he froze once they did. Why are they looking at me? Why is The Hero looking at me!

Matchbook hunched inward, afraid of the approach. He stumbled over the curve and The Hero loomed over him. He dropped into a squat, used to the moving weight, and harmlessly smiled at Match.

They were nearly level with one another—it didn't stop Matchbook's eyes from continuing to trail away from his face.

“I saw your heroics while I was overhead trying to find this dastardly Villain.” Matchbook didn't need The Hero to gesture anything. “You did great.”

His hand reached out to pat Match’s head. The best he could do was tap it with his finger tips. “Are you another hero’s sidekick in training?”

He heard his question, his attention was too drawn to the woman who willingly tugged at the pant leg of his stretchy costume. Why is she okay with this? It’s not like he hadn’t heard about another person getting eaten but never had he seen it outside of shows.

“HELLO?” The Hero waved his giant hand before Match’s face. “You didn’t get hurt did you?”

The concern shoved Matchbook from his thoughts. “N-no.” His brain processed everything that had been said. “To both questions.”

The Hero’s hands slammed onto the ground, eagerly. “That’s perfect!” His hand came up and grabbed Matchbook before he could react. “I’m in desperate need of a new sidekick!” The Hero, leaving little room for Match to rebuttal, threw him over his shoulder and held his hand over him securely.

What is he doing?! Matchbook could barely wheeze out a, “huh,” as the ground was farther from him.

“Don’t you dare run off again!” She said, as The Hero hunched back down, his body tensing as he did.

“Now, citizen, please stand back.”

The Hero nudged her with his leg and she complained further. “Quit it!”

Matchbook’s vocabulary returned, “Hold on, I didn’t agree to be your-” The next thing he knew, the air was knocked out of him as they shot upward. Matchbook couldn’t hold in his scream as the contents of his lunch threatened to come back up.

He sealed his lips, still held and feeling the incredible force against his body. His eyes, barely open, saw the beautiful city they flew over. Something he would have admired if he was looking at it through a computer screen on the GROUND.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, clutching as hard as he could into The Hero’s flesh. Please, please, PLEASE put me down nicely!

The wind whistling fast past his eardrums slowly dissipated and he finally heard The Hero’s voice. “Whoops, I overshot the docks again!”

He opened his eyes, squinting, as they were across the water. The docks were in the distance and they were flying much slower now.

“Just fly us back there! You have wings!” Matchbook whimpered, still clutching what he could.

The Hero laughed, “Ha, you’re right!” Then the force shifted and Matchbook felt his body being pulled upward, away from him as they were falling. “How do I do that again?”

“WHAT!” Matchbook shouted. They were rapidly approaching the water.

The Hero twisted himself and Matchbook in the air, He swung Matchbook in front of him, pushed him with whatever force he could, and got his back ready to strike the water.

And the last thing Match saw before they struck was The Hero mouthing the word, ‘sorry’.

…

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

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I Got Roped Into Being A Hero!

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emerystellar · 6 months

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hii ^_^ i would appreciate if anyone could spare some change cuz i have a lot of expenses right now and i am barely stringing along. more context/sob story under the cut if you want but tl;dr car repairs, ubers to/from work, and food in the meantime

ways to support me:

redbubble ☆ i have quite a few things on there, including logos of my stuff and retro things like bowling alley carpet, i’m working on a pride collection of bowling alley carpets too!! and i have a lot more in the works :]

patreon ☆ four different tiers with varying perks, and near-daily updates on art projects, sneak peeks at redbubble designs, previews on music and even full songs weeks before they release- also recognition on youtube, my discord, etc etc!

donations ☆ these are quick links to all the major money sharing apps (cashapp venmo paypal), if you want to do zelle that requires my email ([email protected])

bandcamp ☆ for as little as a dollar you can pick any of my currently released songs to get the highest quality download, which is equivalent to listening to it 34 times on spotify… so if you really like my music then own it for yourself here! you can also get 50% off literally anything with the code hungrypumpkin (since it’s helping me pay for food lol)

and if you can’t donate, pleaaaase reblog hopefully to reach someone who can- reblogs help wayyy more than likes in this case ^^

thank you all!!! you’re amazing and i hope you have a stellar day

poll for engagement:

okayyy umm hii… i’m a queer trans non-binary neurodivergent indie artist, teacher, and musician (to get all the demographic solidarity out there, i never know how to write these) and as of rn i’m having to pay my dad $1900 to fix my car’s transmission while ALSO paying anywhere from $100-150 a week on ubers to get to and from work since i have a residential tutoring job. while ALSO having to pay rent, bills, etc like normal. it fuckign sucks and i’ve literally been eating almost nothing except free handouts from college … it’s a nightmare and it weighs on me every day 😔

not only are most of the ubers a wild roulette on whether the car’s going to be super uncomfortable and make me nauseous, the driver being overpolitical and talking about super uncomfortable shit out of the blue and making me feel really unsafe, they’re often super fucking late and i can’t risk being late to work and it’s just all around not sustainable yayy!! and i also just learned i have depression from all this! which next to the rest of my melting pot of neurodivergence makes it Really goddamn hard to exist in a positive way!

when i’m not at work or school i am making as much content as i possibly can and pushing it out onto redbubble, patreon, etc. you will get more than your moneys worth in return from artistic content and stuff, that’s all i have to offer right now, because frankly commissions are extremely draining and take me SUPER LONG to finish- i don’t want you to have to fight through my executive dysfunction to get a finished piece that’s not fair to you and i want to make this as worth it as possible on the user end

if you want a specific goal, then right now, $350 for ubers for a month would help a lot but naturally give as much as you can because i need all i can get rn ^^; i’m lowballing it so it feels more achievable really but just ,, please anything helps lol

$0 / $350

thank you i love you all my gratitude is immeasurable and i just.. thank you for supporting me it helps more than you know

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luckyshotwrites · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1 - Kidnapped by The Hero

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Introducing Matchbook and how he became a sidekick to one of the strongest hero in the world.

Wordcount: 3,300+

Side note: ENJOY!

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