#pot light repair near you

[sttm99]

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

[reverseexorcist]

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,

[m1d-45]

-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.

[thewalkingwillowtree]

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

[thecoolerlucky]

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!

Next Chapter

Catch up, see some art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

I Got Roped Into Being A Hero!

[emerystellar]

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 (emery.nova7673@gmail.com)

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

[sleepy-bunbun-ace]

ridoace week day 4

guest room / domestic

i knew exactly which unreleased au that's sitting in my drafts my alt to use and decided to write it out instead of drawing it this time. we'll be going back to regularly scheduled art on day 5.

--

"roooosssssiiiiieeeeeeee," ace whined. she stretched herself out on the bed as riddle continued to work at her desk. she'd been there for the past three hours now, only taking a break to either stretch or drink some water. it was starting to worry her, in all honesty.

"i'm almost done, cherry, just a little bit more." riddle continued to work on, pausing to yawn before continuing. ace could only frown before looking up at the ceiling. 'maybe i can make her something to eat? yeah, she'd like that.'

ace stood up before walking out of her rose's room before making her way down the heartslabyul stairs. it was only the two of them in the dorm currently, everyone else still recovering from the sleep malleus put them in. the ramshackle trio sometimes popped in to check in on them but for the most part it was just her and her queen. her absolutely adorable, beloved, shining queen.

before she knew it, she arrived in the kitchen. now, what could she make?

there wasn't a lot she actually knew how to cook. she usually just asked trey or deuce to make her something to eat. oh what was she thinking? trying to make something for her queen to eat as if she knew how to cook?

no. no bad thoughts right now. ed would give her more homework if he knew what she was thinking right now. but...

she looked down at what remained of her right arm. the empty automail port sat near her elbow and shined in the kitchen's lights. she thought about riddle, still working on the repairs for her automail without taking a break. it was decided, she'd make something for riddle.

thankfully there's one thing she knew how to prepare and present well. ace took out a pot from one of the cabinets and placed it on the stove. she took out a measuring cup and filled it with water before carefully pouring it into the pot and turning on the stove. she had time until the water started boiling to prepare the rest.

pre-chopped vegetables (courtesy of trey), an already boiled egg (ace mentally thanked her past self for going to the convenience store), and some seaweed were all grabbed from their respective locations. oh! the ramen! she quickly grabbed it from the cabinet and opened the packaging with her teeth. the water had just started to boil when she dumped the noodles into the water. now to wait.

--

riddle stood up from her desk, finally done with the repairs. she looked down at the repaired arm for her knight. her beautiful, brave, wonderful knight. miss rockbell was a wonderful teacher and ed did a good job at making sure she knew how to repair this certain type of model seeing as it was his own creation.

"that should be it, cherry. now, shall we-" riddle cut herself off. ace wasn't in the room anymore. 'how strange, i thought she had fallen asleep on the bed by now.' she scanned the room in case she missed her cherry, but no, she wasn't in the room. how strange. perhaps she went out for a walk?

she grabbed the automail, carefully to make sure she didn't let it fall, and walked out of her room. there was only one place she could think of where ace could be.

she walked down the stairs and headed straight into the kitchen.

"wait, how am i supposed to bring this upstairs?"

"bring what upstairs?"

"rosie!" ace ran over to her and brought her in for a hug. "careful! i just finished the repairs for your arm!"

her knight carefully let her go before inspecting the automail in her hands. ace gave her a bright smile before kissing her on the top of her head. she couldn't help the warmth that crept up her face, this was still new to her. to think that only a month ago...

"wait, what were you doing in here? i thought you would have fallen asleep by now?"

"weeeeellllll, i kinda made you something as a little thanks! you've been doing a lot lately and i wanted to thank you for everything. soooo i made you some food!" ace stepped away to reveal the food she prepared. it was some type of soup with vegetables, a boiled egg, and some seaweed in it.

ace must have noticed her confused expression. "i made you one of the ramen packets we have. thankfully trey still had some vegetables pre-prepped and i went out to the convenience store in the town earlier this week so i was able to spice it up a bit for you. here, have a seat, you deserved this rose."

it was the best meal she had in her life. never had she tasted something so good. she let her head rest against her cherry's shoulder. this was... absolutely perfect. there was no doubt about it. she wouldn't mind feeling like this for the rest of her life, completely contempt with it. ace wrapped her arm around her shoulder and brought her close.

she'd have to reattach the automail soon but for now, she was enjoying her life. is this what noah meant?

maybe not everything was perfect at the moment. maybe everything would never be perfect. but right now? this was the most perfect she felt, tucked into her knight's side and feeling her warmth.

there was still a long way to go but it was fine. she was her knight's queen, and she'd make sure that her kingdom, her world, would be fine one day.

--

note: if i could draw this scene, the girlfriends would be looking more like their canon selves but with slightly longer hair and ace's automail port. they don't really start to socially transition until a month before this takes place, which is coincidentally when they started dating.

[luckyshotwrites]

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!

_______________________________________________

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.” I noticed the few people on the streets were doing just that. There wasn't one that far from my 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 fizzle out and back into their 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’.

…

THANK YOU FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!

Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

I Got Roped Into Being A Hero! (Synopsis/Chapter List)

[foxgirl95]

Back Into the Fray CH.2: Killjoy

Chapter Description: No one said babysitting was this dangerous.

AO3 Link

<< Previous Chapter - Next Chapter >>

Hangar three-five had become an unwilling home to Anai these past few days as she was stranded on this forsaken planet. At least she wasn’t alone though, the perks of being a pilot she supposed. As she returned to the main chamber with her new little companion in hand as the beeping of a droid could be heard behind some big empty oil drums. The young woman laughed, shaking her head lightly “Tena ja, sulatuka o!”  She comfortably spoke in her native tongue now that the bounty hunters had left. The frustum head of a yellow, silver, and white astromech cautiously poked out “Stop hiding and come say hello to our new little friend here.” The young mechanic kneeled as the droid slowly rolled out of its hiding place letting the child down to stand. “Bachsu, this is R6-K5 we call him Racket.” She gestured to the droid while introducing him and hoping the little one would understand as she continued “He’s a very good friend of mine, we’ve been traveling together for a long time.” Racket beeped several times in greeting, his processor cycling through a series of warm colors. The young one giggled with glee clapping his little three-fingered hands, happy to meet another new friend.

“How cute.” Peli’s voice sounded from behind the small group now leaning over them “If you’re done with your touchy-feely moment we got work to do!” She grumbled as she pulled a pouch of tools over her shoulder “C’mon! Chop, chop, we don’t have much time until that bucket head comes back!” Anai couldn’t help but laugh as she watched her friend climb on board The Razorcrest “Even if we don’t finish in time, what’s he gonna do?” The younger mechanic replied as she peeled off her leather jacket tossing it to one of the pit droids “Fix it himself?” Peli’s cackling laughter echoed through the open hull shouting back “Yeah I’d love to see him try to repair this mess!”

The two women spent the rest of the day working on the many issues of the old ship. It was a wonder the damn thing hadn’t fallen apart mid-flight, luckily it had landed in the hangar with the best mechanics Mos Eisley had to offer. The work slowly came to a halt as the two suns began to set. Now near dark Anai sat atop the old ship as she just finished welding back together one of the engines. Very carefully the young woman began her descent but was unable to keep her footing upon the rungs of the ladder “Peli!” She called out “Turn on some kriffing lights before I fall off this hunk of junk!” The light of day fading more and more taking her sight with it. “Hold on, don't curse at me!” Peli yelled back holding the child on her hip as she flipped some switches bringing on the hangar lights “Sorry, the little womp-rat was getting into the tools” Anai climbed down the rest of the way, dropping to the ground as the dusty sand puffed up around her boots “It’s fine just…you know not being able to see freaks me out.”

“Right, the night blindness…” Peli sighed “You still haven’t fixed that visor of yours?” The pink haired mechanic shook her head disheartened “I’m close though, just need to figure out the wiring.” She sighed “Wish I would’ve thought to take it apart myself before it was smashed.”

Peli shook her head as well “Damn thieves.” She sneered before making her way to the living quarters “Still don’t know how they broke into my hangar and took off with your ship without anyone noticing.” The green-eyed woman followed behind wiping sweat from her forehead “Who knows.” She looked down as Racket rolled up next to her beeping in a disapproving way “Hey I wasn’t the one who nearly lost the hangar playing Sabacc with the shifty-looking bug.”

“I wasn’t losing!” The older woman called out, stepping into the bunk room and setting the child on one of the hard mattresses “I was just letting him build up confidence so that he’d add more to the pot” Anai nodded skeptically “Yeah sure and that handful of credits you got was worth it?” Peli picked up a pillow and threw it at her friend who only giggled in response as she dodged out of the way “Oh hush! I'm gonna get junior here something to eat.” She turned on her heels heading to a small kitchen area as Anai shook her head “I’m getting in the ‘fresher!” She called out grabbing some sleep clothes and treading over to a tiled room letting the door slide closed behind her.

After some time enjoying a sonic shower Anai stood in her pajamas using a washcloth to clean the makeup from her face. As she finished, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and sighed, she looked nothing like herself anymore after all these years in the outer rim. Her body had changed from the rougher lifestyle; her arms and legs in particular had gained more muscle simply from the amount of work she had to take to earn credits for herself and Racket. The rest of her though showed more of her age, she was at least thirty or just about to be by her calculations, her face now rounded and stomach no longer flat but a soft muffin top. It almost made her feel like a fool with her wavy chin-length hair dyed a bubblegum pink, even worse that her eyebrows were dyed the same. Peli had asked if she was going through a crisis of some sort of crisis when Anai had arrived only a few days earlier. What had she been thinking letting that uppity hairdresser talk her into it? Suddenly the refresher door opened, and the young woman spun around ready for a fight only to find no assailant but the cooing little green baby staring up at her curiously “Bachsu?” She let out a relieved sigh before bending down to scoop him up into her arms “Did you get some food in your little belly?” She lightly poked his bulging stomach, earning a cute little laugh. Looking up she spotted Peli fast asleep slumped over the edge of her bunk with an empty bowl hanging limply from her hand. Anai covered her mouth to keep from laughing “Poor Peli.” She placed the little one at the foot of her bunk as she rearranged the older woman into her mattress, taking the bowl, and pulling the shoes from her feet. After putting everything away she flicked some switches on the wall turning off the ceiling lights but keeping the low lights in the floor active for her own sake “Alright little one, time for bed.” She gathered the baby up in her arms again as she crawled onto her mattress laying him against her chest, Racket rolled up to the wall next to them putting himself in sleep mode. It took a short while as the tiny green boy fussed to fight against sleep but was soon lulled as his babysitter who lightly patted his back and hummed a calming tune. Before long Anai found herself cuddled up to the little heat pack into blissful sleep, completely unaware of the danger heading their way.

Hours later the mechanic awoke to the grumblings of the child as he pushed against her chest in an attempt to get up “Bachsu?” Anai called out to the little one “What’s wrong?” She sat up holding him close to her as he continued to whine, his ears cast down staring up at her with those big pleading eyes. The noise was enough to bring Racket out of sleep mode, coming to life and beeping curiously. The woman sighed using her free hand to rub her eyes of sleep “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” She watched the way his ears immediately perked up confirming her suspicions “Alright, let’s see if I can find you something.” Anai sighed stepping down from her bunk only to pull back a moment stunned at how cold the floor was before quickly tiptoeing past a still sleeping Peli into the kitchen. With the child in hand the mechanic rifled through some storage containers eventually coming across packets of powdered stew and bread “This’ll have to do.” She grabbed a small pot and bowl, setting them both and the little one on a counter as she prepared the meal, cooking the stew on a small burner and adding water to the bread making it rise instantly. Now done she pulled the bread apart and dipped a piece in the stew letting it soak up the juices before handing it to the child “Here you go, try that.” He took the bread in his clawed hand and took his first little bite, his big pointy ears practically jumping up and down with joy. Anai couldn't help but smile as she pulled off a piece for herself, continuing to share their breakfast until a very groggy Peli dragged herself around the corner and made a b-line for her caf maker. “Navila.” The younger woman greeted only to be nonchalantly waved off, she turned her attention back to the kiddo who having finished his breakfast now watched them curiously “Why don’t you come with me Bachsu, we gotta lot of work to get to today before Mando gets back.” She scooped him up again, taking him back to the main room to get ready for the day.

Back to work once again Anai had a better plan to handle the child this go around. Digging through some other storage containers she found long scraps of fabric and tied them around her upper body as a makeshift carrier. She secured the little one making sure he was facing forward so he could watch everything she was doing without interfering. Luckily all they had left was to work on the landing gear, recalibrate the entire system, and do a final run-through. The work was tedious especially without the help of the droids as Anai grabbed her datapad to start checking the connectivity of the system to the landing gear. As she stood there the child began to fuss yet again pulling at the fabric and holding him to her “Oh?” She looked down at him curiously “What’s wrong Bachsu?” He kept pushing the fabric kicking his little feet as he whined “Woah okay, I’ll let you down” She pulled him out of the carrier kneeling into the sand while setting him in front of her “That was pretty big fuss there, do you need something? Are you hungry again?” The little one continued to whine as he grabbed her hand and tried pulling her towards the ramp of the ship “Hey! Bachsu, what’s gotten into you?” The little one’s behavior had her alarm bells ringing when suddenly a shadow fell over her. Slowly turning her head, the mechanic now came face to face with the barrel of a blaster, a gasp escaped her tinted lips and Anai shot up to her feet “Pel-!” There was a sharp blow to the back of her head that sent her careening to the ground. The last thing she heard before blacking out being the panicked cries of the child.

There was no way of telling how long she had been out but when Anai opened her eyes again all she could see was darkness, It must be night. She rationalized while trying to move but quickly found she could not, her hands were tied over her head and she was hanging in the air, Where am I? Suddenly the clinking of boots against metal came to her ears “Finally awake I see.” A familiar voice spoke, “I saw the dog tag I thought you’d put up more of a fight.” It was that boy from the cantina, Toro, if she remembered right. Anai tried to speak as she struggled against her bonds but quickly became aware of the fact that she had also been gagged. A gloved hand pulled the gag down from her lips “Sorry, what was that?” He asked in a mocking tone.

“Karillja! What the hell are you doing?!” She yelled, “Where’s the Mandalorian?!”

“Oh, he’ll be along shortly.” He walked a small distance away from her as he spoke “Heard there was a bigger prize of glory if I brought him and the little green guy back to the guild, so I thought I’d just cash in them instead.”

The kid…, of course now it all made sense, that was why Mando was specifically not looking for guild work. He was running from them for not turning over a bounty, “You don’t have to do this.” Anai tried reasoning with him “There’s still time, just walk away. You can’t tell me entry into the guild is worth your life.”

“You have no idea how much I need this.” Next thing she felt the leather of his gloved fingers as the gag was pulled back over her mouth “Keep quiet.” Toro warned ‘“And when this is over you ladies can go back to your little lives as if nothing happened.” He walked further into what she assumed to be the hull of the Razorcrest leaving her to hang there.

Moments later she heard the shuffling of one of the pit droids across the hangar, something had startled it. Turning in the direction of the noise she could only see the faintest outline of a figure as the dim light bounced off his shiny armor Mando! She struggled against the restraints again grumbling through the gag. “Took you long enough, Mando.” She heard Toro’s voice call from behind her and the padding of hid boots slowly getting closer “Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Anai heard two sets of boots walk past her onto the ships ramp she assumed he had Peli at the end of his blaster and possibly holding the child in his other arm. Unfortunately, their shadowed forms blocked what little of Mando the younger mechanic could see. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.” She heard the small thud of a blaster hitting the sandy floor. Kriff. This was bad, Anai may have just met the man a literal day ago, but she didn’t want to think of what would happen to the kid if he wasn’t around. Toro’s shadowy arm pushed Peli forward with the barrel end of his blaster “Cuff him.” Listening to what was about to play out the former rebel quickly made up her mind, This guy needs to go. While the boy started his speech about how legendary he’d be she reached up to the ceiling grates of the ship, slipping her slender fingers into the holes for stability as she started pulling her knees up into her stomach. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Anai could finally see the scene in front of her as Mando and Peli ducked behind some crates. Toro shot blindly and using all her strength Anai kicked her feet forward throwing him off balance as Mando appeared and with one shot from his blaster the now dead man fell from the ramp. She was left there swinging lightly as the light from the flare faded taking her sight with it.

After everything settled the shine of metal armor appeared again and approached her “Hold still.” Was all the Mandalorian gruffly spoke as he reached up to cut Anai’s hands free and quickly grabbing her waist in the same motion to stop her from falling. She pulled the gag from her mouth as she turned down to Mando but not fully meeting his gaze “I guess that’s what I get for laughing at you, huh?” He tilted his domed head to the side in a nod “Should’ve told you to watch your back.” They both shared a small chuckle as he let her down on the ramp, she could hear Peli consoling the child somewhere below “Thank you.” She heard the Mandalorian softly speak next to her “For all your help, I wish to repay you.” Anai just smiled lightly and intended to tell him she didn’t need anything before Peli spoke up for her “She needs off planet; you could do that.”

“Peli…” Anai followed the older women’s voice giving her a look. “What? You do!” Peli called back defensively “The only reason you’re still here is that your ship got jacked! Didn’t you say someone was asking for you on Ukio?” Anai hesitated, there was a client who had been practically begging her to come to his shop. “I can ferry you there.” Mando interjected, “It’ll only take a couple of hours.” Anai opened her mouth to speak but the words were refusing to form before she sighed looking in the general direction of Mando. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it's just…I’m kind of a package deal.” She saw the shine on his helmet move, probably looking at her quizzically now. He’s not gonna like it. “Racket!” Anai turned back to the hangar as she called out for her droid. The astromech appeared from the living quarters rolling up next to Peli as Anai continued “I…can’t go anywhere without him, and I know you don’t like droids…” Suddenly Racket interrupted with a series of serious beeps that had Anai turned to him with shocked confusion “Are you sure Racket...?” She listened to another few beeps before turning back to Mando “He said he’s willing to travel in off mode with a restraining bolt, you can even chain him to the wall if that’s acceptable.” It wasn’t like the astromech to offer something, so she really hoped an opportunity like this didn’t go to waste. The Mandalorian seemed to think it over for a moment before sighing heavily “Alright, I can work with that. Get your things, we’re leaving.” Anai nodded and she smiled as relief flooded over her. Putting her hand out for balance she made her way down the ramp towards the small amount of light her droid emitted, placing her hand on his head he guided her back to the bunk room.

It took only a few minutes to shove everything the mechanic had left to her name into a backpack and grab her discarded data pad that one of the pit droids thankfully retrieved. Opening the door again she walked into a now illuminated hangar where Mando stood at the top of the ramp now holding the child as he waited for her and Racket to come aboard. She patted the droids little metal head “Go on, I gotta say my goodbyes.” Racket beeped lightly before heading up the ramp. The younger mechanic turned to her friend who stood with her arms crossed in front of her “Well I guess this is goodbye for now.” Anai shrugged her leather-clad shoulders. Peli scoffed “About time I was starting to get sick of ya.” Anai couldn’t help the light giggle that escaped her tinted lips “I’ll let you know when we get settled in, thank you again for taking us in.” Her friend simply waved her off “Go on, get out of here before you make an old woman cry.” Anai reached out placing a tender hand on her shoulder as she softly whispered “Peli Moto, Vidu.”

She let her go climbing up the ramp into the hull just as the Mandalorian secured the restraining bolt onto Racket and pressed a button on his vambrace to power the droid down. Mando starred at Anai for a short moment before turning on his heels and heading up the ladder to the cockpit, the ramp now closing behind her. She took in a breath as she walked past her droid patting him on the head before scrambling up the ladder herself. The mechanic soon joined her ferryman and his little companion taking the only other empty seat and setting her bag on the floor as they began to lift off. Anai turned to the little one watching him play with a little silver ball and recognizing it immediately Ah! So that’s where that went!

Translations:

Tena ja, sulatuka o!: He’s gone, it’s safe!

Bachsu: Child

Navila: Morning.

Karillja!: Bastard!

Vidu: Goodbye

Header & Footer: @samspenandsword

Mudhorn divider: @dreamland-gallery

Diamond & Din Dividers: @saradika-graphics

[angelofhell323]

ℂ𝕒𝕜𝕖

a/n: this is just a little something i wanted to post for spooky season. yes it’s inspired by melanie martinez’s song cake

TW: mentions of cannibalism, mentions of self harm, gore, kidnapping, toxic relationship, murder

————————————————————————

“Your skin is warm like an oven

Your kiss is sugary sweet

Your fingers feel like cotton

When you put your arms around me

I feel like I'm just missing

Something whenever you leave

We've got all the ingredients

Except you loving me”

The speaker vibrates as the song progresses, filling the room enough to shake Isla’s core.

“AND RESPECTFULLY I’M NOT A PIECE OF CAKE FOR YOU TO JUST DISCARD, WHILE YOU WALK A-WAY WITH THE FROSTING OF MY HEART! SO I’M TAKING BACK WHAT’S MINE YOU’LL MISS. THE SLICE OF HEAVEN THAT I GAVE TO YOU LAST NIGHT!” she belts out as she slices the onions. Eyes begin to water from the strong odor emitting from the vegetable.

“I really love this song. It reminds me of us, how you were so good at pretending to care,” she laughs breathlessly, “how you made me believe you loved me when you’d wipe away my tears and hold me as I cried.” Her hands tightened around the knife in her hand. She can’t cry, not here, not now.

“But of course, nothing ever lasts right? Because according to you, I’m a liar, I’m over dramatic, but whenever you showed up to class drunk it wasn’t self-harm, but if I were to slice my wrist, even just a tiny little cut, you’d be furious, right? According to you I never truly cared, yet all I was to you was a broken person you thought you could fix. My mistake for not showing you I wasn’t just broken, no I was shattered beyond repair, damn near dust,” she slides the onions into the olla. (pot/pan) She proceeds to grab the can of hominy and stabs the top to peel back the circular metal lid. Then hominy is dumped into the olla along with some basil leaves.

“Fuck, I really thought ‘Hey, there’s no way she could break my heart, she can’t. Because even if we break up we’ll still be friends’, that’s how much I loved you,” she says as she starts cutting the carne, “Notice how I said ‘loveD’. You fucked up cariño. That night, after like 2 weeks of you saying you didn’t know what you wanted to do, your wish was finally granted. When I had asked ‘Do you want to break up?’ you said ‘I don’t know’, so we broke up, because if you truly wanted to be in a relationship with me you would’ve said no. But then you said ‘You know I can’t be the one to do it’. You forced my hand, YOU made me break us up because you were too pussy to do so yourself! Fuck you for that. Yet I couldn’t get angry, I couldn’t be angry. Why? Because if I was I would’ve been the monster, I would’ve been the villain you tried so hard to lay me out to be. You kept telling me ‘Yell at me, be mad at me’. Finding any and every reason for me to become the monster you knew I didn’t want to become. You knew how I felt about my anger, I’ve worked so hard to get to where I was. And you kept telling me to stop telling our friends you forced my hand when you clearly did. Then I couldn’t even get over it cause you were constantly pulling shit from your ass and kept seeking attention from me. Why? ‘I like the way you look at me’ is what you said. But holy fuck, all you did was make it harder for me to forgive you. You kept saying I was being a bad friend. Well, you were a bad girlfriend. But like Melanie says, ‘If I’m just a piece of cake then you’re just a piece of meat to me’.”

She turns around to face the girl who once held her heart. She rushes to her side and holds her face, hands turning crimson from the wound on Carmen’s head. Isla checks the rope binding the girl to a wooden dining chair, she gives a light tug to be sure it’s secured. She looks back to the girl in the chair.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now Carmen, no no no. I’m making you dinner,” she coos, “I promise you’ll love it.”

Isla kisses her forehead, but the dull girl still has some spunk in her, “Y-you’re fucking psycho.”

“Oh baby, you already knew that. Just remember though,” Isla leans into Carmen’s ear, “you’re the one who brought it out.”

She proceeds to glare at Carmen, expression almost instantaneously changing to one of a happier tone, “Anyways. I’m going to make pozole, but the traditional way. What do you think?”

Carmen’s eyes widened, the only indication that she truly feared for her life. This caused the other girl to smile, she was in control of the situation.

The sound of a door creaking open causes both girls to turn and see a man walking in. Carmen sought this as an opportunity to try and seek help.

“Hey! Help me please, this crazy bitch has me tied up-” a rag was placed in her mouth and tied around her head to shut her up.

“Geez, shut the fuck up,” Isla sighs.

She proceeds to walk up to the man and kisses him in front of her ex, “Ay mi amor, you’re home.”

“What’s this?” he asks.

Isla smiles and starts to bounce on her heels, “Dinner! I wanted to do something special for you.”

A smile finds its way to his and his expression softens, “What’s for dinner?”

“Pozole,” she replies.

His smile widens and looks at the girl gagged and bound to one of the kitchen chairs. He walks up to her and gently slides his hand down the side of her cheek.

“You’re almost too pretty to eat,” he says softly, his voice however changing as he grips her chin harshly, “Pero has hecho daño mi corazon.”

Those are the last words Carmen hears, as Isla plunges the knife into the girl. Making sure to avoid important organs and arteries. She wants Carmen to watch as she carves out her heart. She wants her to feel the knife carving up her skin, she wants her to know how it feels to have your heart ripped from your chest. So that’s exactly what Isla did. And that night the pozole was the best it’s ever been, seasoned just right and the meat tender.

[whatwouldvalerydo]

Well this was promised and I ain't mad about the inspiration what hit me late at night. Gareth Farr visits the orphanage and him and Laurent sit for a coffee. What's more surprising is the confession she makes? Or so you would think. @slytherindisaster

The hour when he woke up meant little. It was a quiet place apart from the occasional laughter in the far end of the estate, children having fun. No one bothered him when he came. Laurent had a room, a place all for himself for as long as he saw fit.

However that morning no nightmare jolted him from his deep slumber. Instead, a steady knocking rhythm which initially appeared louder in his dream state, a sort of knocking against a sturdy wooden door, but when he opened his sapphire eyes, he realized it was actually further away, someone hammering in the yard.

Getting out of the room, a note waited for him inside the small kitchen “Coffee is ready, hope you wake up to enjoy it hot.” Smiling he took a cup, the liquid still fitting as it warmed the porcelain against his fingers, a cigarette pressed between his lips.

Sounds of laughter drew his attention to the window, farther in the distance Angela hammering away at a bench she was adamant on repairing come morning, a figure standing next to her as he extended another nail to her. He was telling her something, Angela looking over her shoulder, laughing, sound reaching Laurent’s ears. Peering closer as he opened the window to allow the smoke safe travels, his brows rose as the man extended a hand, brushing behind her ear a strand of hair, Angela playfully pushing him away.

As she turned to hit the last nail against the wood, she wiped away at her forehead, huffing as she took hold of the tool box, wand levitating a ladder near them. Right, the roof, she did mention it, Laurent recalled as they moved closed to the secondary house.

Taking a better look at the man close to Angela, he most definitely wasn’t staff. No, no one would wear such fine clothing while performing menial tasks. Yet he was familiar, Laurent digging deep within his mind, surprise washing over him for a moment. What was the Duke of Grafton doing at the orphanage?

Discarding the cigarette, Laurent ventured outside with his cup of coffee, a small nod being directed their way, eyes focusing on Angela “Need any help?”

She smiled his way, face lighting up “Good morning, I couldn’t possibly impose so early.” The sound of the ladder hitting against the building echoing through the morning air “Enjoy your coffee.”

Lifting her skirt, the men stopped in their tracks as Angela displayed a pair of pants underneath her dress, Laurent smirking “I can do it.”

“Nonsense.” She spoke already gripping the ladder “I’m far more versed in the art of fixing things. It will only be a moment. If you don’t mind, can you please see that Gareth gets out of the sun?”

To that the duke frowned but that mischievous glint in his eyes wasn’t lost on Laurent. He knew him by name since they were both in the same house years back at school, however life had different plans for them. Indulging Angela since she gave him the worst case of big puppy eyes he had ever seen her make, he hid his frown from her as both men made their way inside the kitchen.

“Coffee is there. Cups in the cupboard.” Laurent said as he sat down at the table, pointing his freshly lit cigarette at the items mentioned.

Taking out a cigarette of his own, Gareth smiled politely “I know.” Before he went to retrieve a cup “Fancy seeing you here.”

Biting down on the bud, Laurent lifted his eyebrows when the duke looked at him “I could say the same for you.”

“Oh, do not worry about me.” He casually stated, Laurent interrupting him.

“I’m not.” Blowing the smoke his way, he looked at the coffee pot “You need help or can you actually manage without a butler?”

“I like this.” Gareth stated as he placed the cup down “You.” Laurent giving him a grave look “Not in the sense that you are my type, however as odd as it is, you appear to be her type. Hopefully a good one.”

Type. Hmmm….Laurent thought.

There was clearly something there, but she went as quickly as she came, always busy, always more yet never quite spoken “None of your business.” He concluded which in all honestly was not. The duke and whatever their relationship was had nothing to do with what they were running circles around.

Entering the kitchen, Angela greeted the men, Gareth smiling “Thank you for your input today, it was quite useful. I shall send a letter telling you the outcome.” Looking over at Laurent both men nodded, not adding any further words as Gareth took his leave.

Turning to the stove to make some tea, Angela breathed in a shuddered breath before she turned to look at Laurent “I’m sorry.”

His eyes fixed on her back, taking note of her behavior he asked “For?”

Turning around, her hands slightly gripped the counter, eyes settling on his face “I care about you, possibly, no” she shook her head “more than I can express, so I want to be honest with you.”

Laurent only nodded, face calm apart from the slight eye squint he provided a fraction, all focus on her.

“I’m not pure.” She blurred out just to have it out in the open, voice shaking as she spoke “I have shared my bed with Gareth a few years ago when I opened the orphanage.”

He did not stop her, Angela continuing speaking.

“He came to visit, we were friends back in the days and after he lost his wife and I struggled with everything it just happened. A moment, a single moment when for one second someone wanted me. No one wanted me, ever. I always did things alone so I…” she hesitated “wanted it even if just for one day. I wanted to be wanted.”

Picking up his cup, Laurent chuckled slightly, eyes lifting to witnessed Angela’s expression. Surprise, that was what he was witnessing. Placing the cup down, he provided her his attention as he spoke, those deep eyes of his boring into hers “I want you.”

Her chest expanded slowly as she breathed in, eyes searching his as she slowly moved away from the counter “Say it again.”

A definite surprise, from his side this time as he uttered again “I want you.” Extending his hand to bring her closer to him.

“Again.” She demanded hands cupping his cheeks as he pulled her body as close to his as possible.

“I want you and it is not just for a day.” Strong hands found their home at the back of her neck, lips parting to kiss her, Angela’s hands caressing his face as her lips slowly kissed his back. Words? What other words were needed? All would have vanished between their lips. Between a single sigh, a strong embrace as he pulled her close after, her smiling as she leaned in closer, Laurent pulling her a moment later onto his lap, eyes searching hers, a smile lighting up her chocolate colored orbs, a light different from what she showed the worlds.

“I’m no one.” She spoke, him hushing her stealing another kiss that was given back wholeheartedly.

“No one sure feels real.” He smirked against her lips as he spoke, Angela angling her head.

“Real…” she softly uttered testing the word between their breaths “Yes, it does feel real.” She smiled back before pulling him back in for a fervent kiss.   

[monochromefilms]

Original Fairytales/Twisted Au

Beta of chapter 2... ish.

Just the intro to three counterparts.

Warnings: nurses.... Terrible grammar, not pre read, ooc.

You woke up with a head splitting pain.

Your vision was a bit blurry until you re-focused, by then you were greeted to the sight of multiple of your friends in what you assume to be infirmary beds. A few were awake and being tended by nurses such as Azul, Riddle, Vil, Jack, and Trey. The rest were still sleeping.

“You’re finally awake.” Trey was the first to notice. Vil was busy talking with a nurse. Azul’s glasses were cracked and were currently being repaired by a nurse.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jack asked Yuu who looked at them blankly, trying to collect what happened and how they got here.

“I heard they were awake.” A new voice called from the infirmary’s opening. Three people.

All three seemed to be tall men. The first person had dark green hair and looked a bit like Trey. This confused the Night Raven Students. He had long hair that was tied by a white silk ribbon and his bangs were decorated by various bobby pins. His face had a clover on his right eye , although being covered by his hair, was seen visibly with white numbers on it, 12468. He carried a cart full of teacups and pots. The second was a man with mid length burgundy hair that fluffed at the ends with cold lavender-blue eyes. He looked ethereal with his facial features. The third had short platinum shade of heather hair that was slicked back but still spiked up at the ends. He wore a surgical mask with sharp judging eyes and a beauty mark near the left. He had a satchel carried on his left decorated with multiple pins and song lyrics that seemed to be printed on old torn paper.

All three had the same uniform. Grey dress shirt, silver vest, and black pants. But each had a different pin on their chest. The platinum haired man had a light purple conch, The burgundy haired man had a silver mirror, The green haired man had a playing card in the shape of a clover.

“Good evening Mother.” The platinum haired boy spoke to a nurse who smiled in response. “ Hello Dear.” She looked at the other boys, “ Narcissus,” The Burgundy haired man nodded his head. “ Apri. “ The green haired man nodded his head with a soft smile. “I’ve brought some tea on Lady Rosetta’s orders. It’s chamomile and mint to help calm them.” ‘So that’s what the stuff on the cart was for.’ Yuu thought to themself.

The lavender haired boy proceeded to pass the group of students in the infirmary and sat his stuff down at an empty table. He proceeded to put hand sanitizer and gloves on. “ My name is Ai Amphit. I just need to ask you a few light questions if you don’t mind.” He spoke with a posh-ish voice and acted like a doctor.

He began to roll over to Azul in his office chair, “How does his hair do that?” Azul was the closest person near the sleeping form of Idia. “Um,He was born like that…” Azul seemed to have mixed feelings on the boy.

While this was happening, Narcissus stood in the front of where the beds were laid while Apri ran around passing tea. “I just wanted to check on you.” Narcissus had a more velvety and gruff voice than Ai and Apri. “When Elliot and Vi explained to me what happened…”

Beds after beds after beds ran past Narcissus as he walked down the hall. The people that laid upon them wore a different uniform than Grim Academy so he assumed there was a prank played by a different school. That was until he was met with a very anxious and disturbed Vi. “What happened.” He demanded them to explain the line of students being carried to the infirmary. “People fell out of the mirror.” Vi explained looking wide eyed, “Someone used their magic?” He asked. “ No, I touched it…” Vi doesn’t have magic. Vi never did have magic. Damn, Vi couldn’t even summon a broom in Phys Ed. “So they just fell?” “Yes.” Maybe Vi did have magic….

“.. It seemed peculiar so I wanted to know what happened. Are you from a different school or some place in another world like Vi.”

‘Was that the person in the mirror?’

“AKHAK! “ Ortho suddenly sparked, “Big Brother!” He immediately ran/floated over to the unconscious Idia.

“Is… Is that a sentient robot?”

Yes Narcissus, Yes it is.

[nostalgia-tblr]

woodelf68 59m @nostalgia-tblr yes of course tell your story about Covid and your building.

OKAY AM GONNA.

I probably need to provide some cultural context to start us off: I live in the UK in council housing, which other places may call social housing or possibly government housing. It's owned by the local authority and the bit I am in was built in the 1960s post-war "knock down all these slums and replace them with nicer housing" era. This particular development goes up and down a street and is a mix of maisonettes and flats. These homes don't have their own wee individual lawns but we have communal areas with a mix of paving and grass and the occasional tree. Since these aren't attached a particular tenancy/home there's no specific person that's responsible for them so the council do the big maintenance tasks of keeping the trees under control and - the basis of our story today - mowing the grass areas. Someone comes out in warmer months in a wee lawnmower-buggy thing and drives around and BEHOLD the grass is cut.

But then... THE RONA!!

The UK went into our first Covid lockdown near the end of March 2020 at which point the council by necessity paused routine maintenance on their properties. They'd come out for an emergency but anything that could wait was left to, well, wait. As you might suppose, this included the mowing of those communal lawns.

My building has grass on two sides and it grew as grass does and by the start of summer 2020 it was getting fairly long. Eventually someone - I don't know who - got hold of a lawnmower from somewhere and cut some of the grass. The whole area's too much for one person really but they did a good chunk of it. And over the next couple of weeks more and more bits of grass were cut. I saw at least two different people with two different mowers, so it wasn't all the one person. So now we had nice neat lawns, all done by the tenants of this building. Hurrah!

You're not supposed to plant anything on these lawns. (The one at the back is "a drying green" apparently, where we're meant to be able to hang out washing done in our laundrette. Which we don't.) A few years before someone planted a few flowers and then those swiftly and suddenly vanished and we all got a letter reminding us not to do that. But now the council weren't coming out to look at these things anyway, were they? And we had this nice neat lawn (or two, really) and it was summer and we were in and out of lockdowns with less to do than we usually would have. So someone planted some flowers anyway. Fuck the council! We can have flowers for now! And then someone else did. And so it spread. At time of writing in 2023 the edges of the lawns are mostly flowerbed with various pretty plants in them.

Other things started to appear. Garden lights. A couple of bird feeders. Plants in pots at people's doors. There's a barbeque grill round the back of the laundrette that gets used now and then. I don't know who owns it but it didn't used to be there and I'm fairly sure it isn't supposed to be there either. Soon the outdoor areas were like a big garden. People kept cutting the grass.

Normal building maintenance is back on and has been for some time now, so we've had the grass cut properly. Repair people and even Housing Officers (the people who are meant to tell us not to do these things) have been and gone and the gardenyness (that's a word, shh) remains. It's quite nice out there now and sometimes on the way back from the shops I go past the flowerbeds to see what's new. I don't know why this has been allowed to stay - it might be that nobody has complained and that it encourages the tenants to keep the whole area neat and tidy. Either way, it's nice.

And so that is the lovely wholesome story of how COVID made my building pretty.

[gaps-between-stories]

Fic Preview

A sneak peek of an upcoming chapter in Safe Ship, Harbored, my Anne Bonny and Mary Read canon introduction!

Lucius and Jim dutifully delivered both salve and liquor to their captain on the Revenge, although neither were keen on sticking around too long in the captain’s quarters. Lucius barely crossed the threshold and had all but tossed his bottle from the doorway, while Jim walked right up to where Stede stood near the bed, watching the sleeping Blackbeard. His shirt and jacket had already been removed, and Stede was working on cleaning the wound with fresh water. Jim stared at Ed for a moment before handing their bottle to the other man. 

“This is for you, not him,” they meet Stede’s eyes, and he knew they weren’t just referring to the alcohol. 

“Thank you, both,” Stede earnestly offered to his two crew mates. He knew neither of them were Ed’s biggest fans at the moment, not that he blamed either of them. There was a lot of work to do to repair what had been broken. 

Jim gave him a small nod, patting his arm as they passed him back out of the room. 

Stede had chosen to pocket Anne’s second offering for later, deciding instead to brew himself a pot of tea. While he waited for it to steep, he looked over Edward’s injuries. 

The gunshot wound had been surprisingly easier to clean and bandage than Stede had expected, especially with the addition of Anne’s salve. Althaea officinalis. He would need to ask Anne about where she acquired it, he hadn’t come across it in person before. The rest of Ed’s injuries, however, were another story. It was only now that he lay sleeping bed that Stede could take in the full extent of the damage. Ed’s body was littered with scars, gashes, and bullet wounds, all in various stages of healing. The cause of his limp soon became obvious when Stede saw, to his horror, the sword wound running up the length of Ed’s calf, deep and fresh. And based on the way it sat as Edward lay sleeping, Stede was also almost certain that his shoulder was also dislocated, but he wouldn’t be able to do anything about that until Roach returned, having been sent back over to the William to check on Mary. 

“Oh Edward,” Stede muttered, hands gently roaming the injuries, his touch butterfly light. He sighed, beginning to realize for perhaps the first time how much he’d truly fucked up. He got to work on cleaning and mending the rest of Ed’s injuries, making a note of where someone would need to check up on, maybe even requiring stitches. He’d have to ask Anne if she had any other medicines that would be of use. 

Eventually satisfied that he couldn't do anything more, Stede turned away from the bed alcove, taking in what remained of his cabin. His stomach tightened at the destruction, aching especially at the sight of what used to be his library. And for as much as he was saddened by the loss of his things, he was even more saddened by the thought of Ed living in such a cold, dark space. He’d stripped away the material reminders of Stede, yes, but he’d also stripped away any opportunities for him to have comfort. Or beauty. And his heart ached, because Ed deserves beautiful things. 

Ed had chosen to keep one thing, though, which made Stede’s heartache in an entirely different way. He pulled the petrified orange half out of his pocket and placed it on the mantle underneath the lighthouse painting. There, he thought. That’s a start. 

Casting a glance back at the still sleeping Ed, Stede walked over to the small doll sitting on the bookshelf, now quite conspicuous without any of its books or baubles to distract from it. He was pleased when the lever still pulled down and the secret door opened just as before. Cautiously, he took a step inside. Stede let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding when he realized that the auxiliary wardrobe was, despite being significantly messier than he left it, still intact. Sifting through the piles, he managed to locate a couple of decorative throw pillows and blankets, which he scooped up in his arms. 

Moving back into the main room of the cabin, he began to redecorate. Thankfully his chaise sofa was only tucked into a corner of the room and not missing altogether. He’d need help to move it later, but in the meantime he added a bright orange pillow. 

Stede hummed to himself as he carefully tucked a turquoise pillow behind Ed, and draped the favored cashmere blanket gently across the sleeping man. It wasn’t much, but at least there was some color in the room again. He stoked the dead fireplace back to life, so cold that he had a hard time believing it was ever lit in his absence. 

He pulled the only other chair in the room up close to the bed by Ed’s feet so he could face him. Settling in with his cup of tea, Stede finally got a good look at the other man. His hair obviously hadn’t been cared for in some time if the tangles slowly evolving into small matts were any indication. Ed’s stubble had begun growing out again. The black kohl smeared across his face couldn’t hide the puffy swelling under his eyes. Above all else, Ed looked…tired. 

“I’m so sorry, darling,” Stede murmured, resting his hand on top of Ed’s leg. 

Some time later, Stede wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been sitting there, but he was more than half finished with his pot of tea, and the sun was considerably lower in the sky than he’d remembered. Just as he began to contemplate seeking out something for dinner, Ed stirred.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” He mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

[osysfurniture]

Office Renovation on a Budget: Yes, It's Possible!

Creating a refreshed, functional workspace without breaking the bank is entirely achievable. In Singapore, where the cost of office space is high, smart planning and budgeting are essential for any office renovation. As I share some practical strategies, you’ll see that a stylish, productive office can be within reach without stretching your budget.

Maximizing Your Existing Layout for Optimal Space and Savings

The first step to budget-friendly office renovation is making the most of your existing space. Rather than opting for a full-scale remodel, consider working with your current layout and enhancing it with minor adjustments:

Rearrange furniture to create better flow and reduce the need for new installations.

Optimize unused corners for meeting areas or workstations.

Implement flexible work zones with movable furniture or multipurpose spaces for different tasks.

A professional office renovation company can help you identify which elements need minimal updates for maximum impact, offering a tailored approach for every budget size.

Choosing Affordable, High-Quality Materials that Last

While quality is essential, you don’t always need to choose premium materials to achieve a modern look. For a cheap office renovation in Singapore that still maintains a professional look, consider these cost-effective options:

Vinyl flooring for an elegant look at a fraction of the price of hardwood.

Modular furniture pieces that are easy to rearrange or add onto as needs evolve.

LED lighting to save on energy costs while providing a bright, welcoming space.

By selecting durable, budget-friendly materials, you’ll achieve a polished, cohesive appearance without the need for constant repairs or replacements.

Painting and Lighting: Affordable Transformations that Make a Difference

A fresh coat of paint can do wonders to change the look and feel of an office space. Opt for lighter shades to open up smaller rooms, or add accent walls in specific areas to give a unique touch without overwhelming the space.

Alongside paint, lighting is a major factor in an office's ambiance and can be done affordably:

Install task lighting near desks and workstations for clarity and focus.

Choose energy-efficient LED bulbs for long-term savings.

Add decorative light fixtures to create a warm, welcoming atmosphere.

With these adjustments, it’s possible to give your office an upgraded feel that boosts productivity and morale without hefty spending.

Finding Functional, Budget-Friendly Furniture for a Stylish Workspace

Furniture doesn’t have to be a significant investment in your office renovation. Instead, look for multipurpose and space-saving options that offer style and function, perfect for a budget-conscious office:

Second-hand office furniture stores in Singapore can have high-quality pieces at a fraction of the cost.

Modular furniture systems allow for flexibility as your office layout and needs evolve.

Minimalist designs help keep your workspace looking professional and clutter-free.

This approach means you can style a polished office while keeping to a reasonable budget.

Integrating Technology Without Overspending

Technology is essential for a modern office but doesn’t have to be high-cost. Here are some ways to integrate essential tech upgrades without overdoing it:

Invest in refurbished equipment for computers and monitors at a lower cost.

Use cloud-based solutions for document storage, reducing the need for costly hardware.

Choose energy-efficient devices that reduce operating costs in the long run.

With these budget-friendly tips, an office renovation Singapore can be both tech-forward and financially smart, providing employees with the tools they need while respecting your budget.

Adding Greenery for a Budget-Friendly and Inviting Atmosphere

Plants are one of the most cost-effective ways to enhance an office space, giving it a fresh, welcoming feel. Whether you go for small desk plants or larger potted trees in empty corners, plants can add life and color with minimal expense.

Low-maintenance plants like snake plants and succulents require little care and last long.

Position plants strategically in well-lit areas to save on additional lighting.

Consider vertical gardens if you’re limited on space but want to make a green impact.

Adding greenery is a simple way to upgrade your office atmosphere, making the space more inviting and encouraging productivity.

By planning strategically and choosing affordable upgrades, it’s possible to work with an office renovation company to achieve a cheap office renovation Singapore businesses need. With these steps, any Singapore office can enjoy a stylish, productive environment that aligns with both aesthetic and budgetary goals.

[speedypaperprince]

Honoring Tradition: Sonoran Desert Architecture in Modern Landscaping

Introduction

The Sonoran Desert is a unique ecosystem, boasting diverse flora and fauna that have adapted to its arid conditions. As we navigate through the modern world, it's crucial to honor the traditions of this region, particularly in architecture and landscaping. The blend of ancient practices with contemporary design principles leads to innovative outdoor spaces that reflect both beauty and sustainability. In this article, we'll explore various aspects of Sonoran Desert architecture within modern landscaping, showcasing how these elements can residential irrigation repair harmonize to create stunning environments that respect nature while offering functionality.

Honoring Tradition: Sonoran Desert Architecture in Modern Landscaping

Sonoran Desert architecture is deeply rooted in its environment, characterized by adobe structures, earth tones, and a seamless integration with the landscape. When designing modern outdoor spaces, incorporating these architectural elements helps maintain how to spray weed killer effectively a connection to historical practices while embracing contemporary needs.

Designing a Desert-Friendly Outdoor Kitchen and Dining Area

Outdoor kitchens have become increasingly popular in desert landscaping. A well-designed outdoor kitchen not only enhances your culinary experience but also promotes social interaction amidst nature.

Key Features for Your Outdoor Kitchen: Materials: Use durable materials like stone or stainless steel that withstand extreme temperatures. Shading: Incorporate pergolas or shade sails to protect against the sun. Sustainable Practices: Consider energy-efficient appliances and water-saving fixtures.

By integrating these features, you create a space that's not just functional but also reflective of the surrounding desert environment.

The Role of Succulents in Modern Phoenix Interior Design

Succulents are more than just trendy decor; they symbolize resilience and adaptability — qualities inherent in the Sonoran Desert’s native plants.

How to Incorporate Succulents Indoors: Arrangements: Create diverse arrangements using different types of succulents for visual interest. Lighting: Position your plants near natural light sources for optimal growth. Containers: Choose decorative pots that complement your interior style while providing adequate drainage.

Incorporating succulents into interior design allows homeowners to bring a piece of the desert indoors while promoting low-maintenance greenery.

Creating a Sustainable Bamboo Grove in the Arizona Desert

While bamboo may not be native to the Sonoran Desert, it can be cultivated sustainably in Arizona's climate with proper care.

Benefits of Bamboo in Landscaping: Fast Growth: Bamboo grows rapidly and can provide privacy screens or windbreaks quickly. Erosion Control: Its root structure helps prevent soil erosion on slopes. Aesthetic Appeal: Creates an exotic feel that contrasts beautifully with traditional desert plants.

Implementing bamboo groves can enhance your landscape while remaining enviro