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archiesoniconline · 1 year
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Sonic Universe Online #52 Behind The Scenes!
Hello, everyone!  Boy, it’s been a while since we’ve done one of these, huh?  But considering we finally managed to release this issue after its nightmarish production cycle, we decided that it was a good time to bring the “behind the scenes” posts back.  There’s a lot to talk about with this one, so get ready for a real doozy!
As usual, let’s start with the cover.  We wanted to have Bunnie and Scarlett as the focus, and RocketPOW! went through several drafts of what that would look like.  In the end, we settled on having them playing cards in the bar from Sonic Mania’s Mirage Saloon Zone to fit with the desert theme.  It’s also worth noting that we had Jack on the cover at one point but ultimately decided against it, since the story focuses more on his lackeys than himself.
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Before we start on the actual story, I guess we should begin with the elephant in the room: Bunnie’s redesign.  Even though we technically first saw her new look in issue 51, we might as well go over it now.  Picking up from where the official comic left off, we knew that Bunnie had a redesign after being legionized, but the reboot happened before we ever got to see it.  And with the redesign of such an important character, obviously there was a lot of pressure to do her justice.  There was some old concept art by Tracy Yardley of legionnaire Bunnie, but we didn’t want to just take that and call it a day.  We had quite a field day with many of our talented artists coming up with their own interpretations of her redesign, including @miitoons, @riggo-draws, @drawloverlala, @fritzymagpies, Tim Campbell, CrimDa, DoNotDelete, and more that I sadly can’t remember anymore.  From the shape and function of her cybernetics, her overall color scheme, her clothing, her hairstyle, her weapons, etc., every last detail was meticulously gone over until we arrived at the final design taking what we liked most from each of them.
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At first, we had gotten Tale to draw out the first several pages, and even though they were finished, he unfortunately had to step out of the issue and we had Gilgalad take over, better known as Thomas Rothlisberger, who we were lucky to have on the team before he moved on to the IDW Sonic comics.  For the sake of consistency (lol), we unfortunately had to scrap Tale’s pages so he could redo those as well.
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Holly’s sickness isn’t elaborated on in the actual story, but the gist is that she’s a snow leapord who was roboticized during the First Robotnik War.  But after the Bem deroboticized her while she was in the desert, her body became sick due to being stuck in the inhospitable environment, which is an example of how misplaced many of the former Robians were being sent far out of their natural habitats, and losing the protection of their robot bodies was actually a detriment.
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A Sonic fan with a good eye for detail may notice that the guard who takes over watching Bunnie after Scarlett is actually one of the unnamed members of Infinite’s Jackal Squad from the Sonic Forces prequel comic.  Since this cameo may or may not go anywhere in regards to Infinite in ASO, we opted against using Infinite himself since he’s too important of a character to pass off as a mere cameo.  If you want this plot thread to be expanded upon, let us know!
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Since this is where we introduce Holly and her relationship with Scarlett, it’s as good a time as any to discuss the process of their creation.  With Scarlett, we wanted to introduce a character who would serve as a foil to Bunnie, another person struggling due to their bedridden lover, but with diametrically-opposed views regarding cybernetics.  Her design was actually taken from a random Sand Blaster who appeared in a single panel of StH #218, who we decided to turn into a full-fledged character.  Although her species was unknown during her single appearance, we decided to make her a fennec fox.  On the other hand, Holly was an entirely new design that we came up with for the story.  The LGBT aspect of their relationship was actually the idea of my editor for the issue, The Shadow Imperator.  I stated in the interview after the issue that I was the one who came up with their names, but that’s not the whole truth.  There was a whole team effort dedicated to naming the two of them, before I suggested Scarlett since there was an abandoned plot point about how Bunnie’s true name was at one point planned to be Scarlett O’Hare.  Our Scarlett’s full name is Scarlett O’Fenn, with ShadImp being the one to suggest adding the last name as well.  But since her last name didn’t come up in the story, I apologize for forgetting to mention it.  Holly was also one of several names I came up with, which was agreed on due to the sort of “snowy” feel it has to it.
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In my initial draft for Scarlett and Holly’s conversation, I wrote Holly as being more openly pessimistic about her condition, outright stating that Scarlett would be better off if she was gone.  But since that seemed rather inconsiderate to Scarlett’s feelings, ShadImp suggested that I tone it down a little and have her only mention feeling like a burden.  He was also the one to suggest that I make sure their romantic relationship is mentioned as explicitly as possible, so there would be no room for ambiguity that might lessen the impact of their sexual orientation.
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Scarlett taking off her hat here wasn’t actually in the script I wrote, but it was a smart move by Gilgalad, showing her letting her guard down around the one person she can afford to do so with.  To put it simply, Scarlett offers Holly physical support while Holly offers Scarlett emotional support, so neither one is one-sidedly supporting the other.  This scene also demonstrates that even though Scarlett is easily the most level-headed and compassionate Sand Blaster we’ve seen so far, some of the old bigotries and prejudice against cyborgs and robots that Jack instilled into her still remain.
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Gilgalad had actually already penciled out the next couple pages, but since he wasn’t able to stick around for the full story, we decided that that the end of Scarlett and Holly’s scene was a good cutoff point for the drastic shift in art style.  Red Rabbit is an amazing artist with a style very similar to Patrick Spaziante, but it is still a jarring shift compared to most other artists on the project.  I had also originally written Bunnie mentioning not being very good at undercover missions, but when ShadImp brought up her successful operation tricking Battle Lord Kukku I changed the script to have her mention that instead.
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At first, I was planning for the poker scene to have the characters holding cards that reflected their position in the conversation, such as holding a winning hand when they have the upper hand in the argument.  But since I have absolutely no knowledge or experience with poker, that idea ultimately didn’t come through in the final story.  This scene also serves to flesh out the Sand Blasters and show that none of them are blindly loyal to Jack.  Tex obviously has his own agenda, Avery just goes along with whatever’s the least troublesome, Shift wants to get his hands on new technology, and Jolt does genuinely want the city to open up to the rest of the world.
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You may have noticed that instead of rocket feet like her old design, Bunnie now flies with a removable jet pack on her back.  If you’re wondering how that wouldn’t burn her tail off, it was specifically designed so that the fire trails would shoot aiming away from her tail.
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Originally, during the car chase sequence Bunnie’s jet pack was just written to malfunction for no real reason.  But eventually, I decided to give it a more interesting explanation by adding in hints that Shift may have intentionally sabotaged it to trip up Bunnie, only to reveal that he was actually trying to fix it and he didn’t betray her after all.  This was also the portion of the story where Ink Pants took over for pencils, and then Lav after him.  Even though they’re all fine artists in their own right, hopefully this will be the last time that we need to include so many drastic changes in art style to illustrate a single story.
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We almost had one more shift in art style, with @gendeerfluid​ penciling the last page.  In the end, Lav managed to finish that one as well, giving us a massive cliffhanger both figuratively and literally in the form of Jun Kun, the Iron King.
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That’s about it for this one, folks!  Thanks for sticking with us all this time, and look forward to the conclusion of this story next issue.  Until then, keep on juicin’!
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jayrockin · 8 months
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Avian Homeplanet
Star: F-class (yellow white) Vegetation: blue and black Axial tilt: 11 degrees Gravity: 1.12 g Position from star: fourth
Over 90% ocean and blasted by the light of an intense star, the avian homeplanet is prone to hot, humid weather and enormous monsoon storms. In spite of this, the planet’s very slight axial tilt gives its poles a coating of year-round sea ice, whose sifting, dune-like surface plays host to a strange variety of slow growing plants and hardy animals. On solid land, the dominant photosynthetic life is a clade of “plants” ranging from dark blue to cerulean, and a clade of sessile tube-dwelling “landworms” with black flesh and frond-like appendages. Their dark colors selectively absorb and reflect the harsh, high-UV light of the sun.
The crust of the planet also has an usually large amount of the element cobalt. It compromises over 5% of the planet’s crust, comparable to iron on Earth. Cobalt compounds generally have a much higher solubility in water than iron compounds, though, and the avian oceans are stained a purplish red from huge amounts of dissolved cobalt nitrate, cobalt chloride, and cobalt carbonate. Mineral veins of cobalt compounds can be found commonly in the planet’s rocks, forming streaks of red, blue, black, green, and sometimes yellow depending on composition. Sand and soil are sometimes stained purple and blue by cobalt salts, as well.
The clade of avians has a difficult evolutionary history to track, given the limited amount of dry land and intense development over the past thousand years. The current theory is that a flying sophont ancestor originated on the planet’s largest landmass, an Australia-sized continent, and radiated outwards to evolve into the 5 extant species of avians.
In modern history, avians have often run into space issues developing their societies, and metal as a resource has been at the center of some particularly bitter wars. Most land on the homeplanet is currently colonized by the Dominion of Tiiliit, and now in the space age, imported metal and helium is being used to add new land in the form of artificial islands and floating cities.
Avians tend to use simple, writable icons to represent their nations. Though traditionally, the Hotsuuv nations use local cultivated varieties of seal fruit as icons, and the mineral rich south pole uses dots of pigment.
Map art rendered in Photopea by the stellar @cmaidaartworkblog! Edited in CSP by me.
PATREON | Runaway to the Stars
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wreckmetoji · 1 year
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Don’t Call Me Friend
A fic in which you find a cynical man desperately needing medical attention
↳ Millions Knives/Reader
content warning. gender-neutral pronouns, afab reader, mild overstimulation, unprotected sex, profanity, shameless smut, slight fluff, alien genitalia, oral (m!receiving), fingering, creampie, knives has never seen a pussy in his life, probably missing some tags but it’s 8 in the am and im tired
this is a fic trade piece dedicated to @strbrmlk​! Go show them some love, they have lots of Knives content!
minors DNI
8.7k words
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The light was unlike anything you had ever seen. It was cataclysmic, swallowing a city whole and whoever dared to remain, and even from so far away the shockwave winded you and made your eyes burn. Bright scorching purple, a light so pure and refined you had half a mind to think it was cast down from heaven itself. A shaky sigh pushed from your lips, shoulders sagging at the weight of the realization the city you were heading to had just been completely leveled, now nothing but a crater.
 Perhaps you would take advantage of the night and keep traveling. Your bones ached, legs begged you to stop and rest, but now there was no refuge. You had to persist. Fuck, how far away was the next city, the voice in the back of your mind nagged as you began packing up your few belongings. You were nearly out of supplies, running dangerously low on water and even worse off for food. It was fine, everything would be fine, you always managed to scrape by no matter how dire or desperate. 
 With a low grumble, you hiked your bag over your shoulders, adjusting the straps before spinning on your heel and making your way back. Only upon glancing over your shoulder one last time, did you see a second impact several yards away. It was smaller, much smaller, and you would have missed it had you not seen the plume of sand that flew into the air as a result. Was it rubble left over from the blast? Had anything managed to survive that? Curiosity got the better of you, sliding down and climbing over dunes hastily to see what had landed so close. Maybe, if you were lucky, it was some intact supplies. Wishful thinking, maybe. 
 Upon reaching whatever- no, whoever- had landed, your hands flew up to your mouth as you gasped. A body, unidentifiable, completely burnt and scorched to a crisp, missing flesh in his arms and face. You inched closer, tiny steps carrying you nearer as you gave him a good glance over. Usually the sight and smell alone would leave you gagging, but you were compelled, maybe they were alive?
 A slow rise and fall of their chest was all you needed, luck be on their side. Not on yours however, considering your survivors guilt would eat you alive if you had just left the poor man, so now not only were you stuck trekking across a barren desert with little to no supplies, you were doing so with a dying man that was in desperate need for medical attention you were most certainly not qualified to execute. Still, you did your best to wrap him in the comfort of your sleeping bag, tactfully tying it up with some spare rope and wrapping around your waist and arms. The chances of him surviving were less than slim, but you would be damned if you didn't at least try to save his life. 
 This conclusion nearly killed you, several times throughout your trek back to the small town you came from did you encounter obstacle after obstacle. Hungry vultures preying on the smell of death, inconspicuous bandits waiting around every rock and dune, and the fact you hadn't had a crumb of food or drop of water the entire way. At some point you must have started hallucinating, because you swear you could see the burnt skin on the stranger's face stretch in some unexpressed emotion when you poured the last droplets of water in his mouth. Regardless, the sight of the town flags waving in the wind was enough to nearly bring you to tears. Glancing back at your injured traveling companion, you huffed out a relieved sigh, whispering, "We'll get you some help, friend. Don't worry."
 As it turned out, medical professionals were just as shocked as you to see someone in such horrible condition to still be living and breathing, and even responsive. Perhaps you weren't hallucinating when you saw him move earlier. 
 It took hours to get him in a bed, wrapped in bandages and gauze, leaving you to sit in the tiny room with him and sweat over the quadruple digit medical bill resting in your hands. No good deed goes unpunished, you thought to yourself, gently sighing and reclining in the bedside chair next to the mysterious man. You had money, sure, maybe enough to put a down payment and work the rest off over the next couple weeks running odd jobs around the small town. Maybe you could borrow a car and make some money off of supply runs, now that July was destroyed you could imagine They were just as desperate to help as some off-the-map backwash towns. 
 Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention, seeing a tenderly gauze wrapped arm shift, attempting to raise up with weak urgency. You stood from your chair, sliding onto your knees beside the bed, resting your hand as tenderly as you could on him. "Hey, it's okay," You called out, to which you could see him tense ever so slightly, "It's okay, you're all patched up. Don't be afraid, you're in good hands. I promise."
 Recovery was speedy, the doctors had mentioned. The mystery man was making amazing progress, and the speed in which his scorched skin was healing was inhuman. What would have taken months, years, if at all, was taking less than weeks. Those weeks you spent working at a local baked goods shop during the day, and a bar at night, keeping you endlessly busy and then some. Still, though, you would find time at the end of every shift to slip by the medical clinic in which the mystery traveler was stationed at, sitting with him for a bit and talking. It was odd, you noted, telling someone so much about yourself, the things you're interested in, all the way from your name to your favorite book you've managed to forage out of the odd pawn shop. It was odd having someone know so much about you, and you didn't even know what they looked like, who they were, how they sounded. 
 Still, you liked to think he enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his, even if he couldn't say anything. 
 The day you could no longer keep up with the payments for his care was the day the weight on your shoulders tripled. The nurses were empathetic, stressing over the steps you would need to take if you were to do it yourself, but emphasized the clinic wasn't a charity. Only slightly concerned one of the nurses mentioned he did have to be sedated nearly every time they changed his bandages, or he would put up too much of a fight, how the hell were you going to get sedatives? In all, you understood, and part of you knew this would be where you ended up, considering two minimum wage jobs could only get you so far. At least now instead of exorbitant medical fees, you could house him with you in your shitty little rental. Now you could see him more often too, you just hoped that his bandages would be fine through the day, or maybe you would have to start taking your lunch breaks to come home and tend to him. He was your responsibility, after all, and you had made peace with that. 
 Honestly, you were expecting the first day to be the worst. You stood from your kneeling position beside your bed in which the man was currently occupying, taking a deep breath and mentally going over all your steps on top of he puts up a fuss, don't be surprised. The second your hand made contact with his covered shoulder, he flinched, and you mimicked the reaction, squeaking a quiet, "Sorry! I should have said I was going to touch you." You sighed again, resting the supplies on the bed. "I've never done this before, so... Please be patient with me. I'm just trying to help, friend."
 Unsure if maybe it was a familiar voice, or your reassuring words, but he definitely wasn't a nightmare like the nurses mentioned he would be. You unwrapped, washed, put on the required prescription ointment, and then re-wrapped both of his arms, quickly moving to his head. Your fingers hesitated, hands hovering over his neck for a moment. You could still see his scorched face, the missing skin, and showing bone. Still, it had to be done. After steeling yourself, and verbalizing where you were going to be touching next, you began to work the bandages from around his neck, then his jawline, slowly revealing him to you. 
 It was a sight you didn't think you could have ever prepared yourself for. You'd been told he was making a speedy recovery, not a freakishly inhuman recovery, but the skin on his face had nearly completely healed over. The skin was fresh and stretched and definitely not an accurate representation of the man he once was, and the voice in the back of your head silently wondered if it would scar like that, but his eyes. You couldn't stop the quiet gasp that left your mouth as your hands dropped, his right eye being revealed to you. Despite the wounds, the scaring, he was beautiful, even as he fixed you with a confused glare. "Oh," You found yourself saying, cheeks ruddy and thoughts scrambled at the way he stared at you, "S-Sorry, I just- I wasn't expecting..."
 Unable to finish your sentence, your hand reached up instinctively to touch at the healed patch of skin at his jaw. Turquoise gaze shot down, hand flying up to intercept your course of action, snatching at your wrist in a tight hold. You couldn't will yourself to be shocked, or scared at the amount of strength behind his grip, only staring at his exposed eye with silent wonder. Finally, you whispered, "Sorry... You're just... Your eyes are very beautiful. Please let me change the rest of your bandages?" To your surprise, he did, his eyes glancing out the window as you removed and replaced his bandaging. When you asked if he would prefer to have the bandages off or over his eyes, he didn't reply, only continuing his hardened forlorn gaze out into the streets below. So, you decided for him, leaving his eyes uncovered. It was a hardened decision to leave him a stack of bandages to change whatever was under the waist and above the thigh, not wanting to impede on his privacy more than you already had.
 After you finished up, you sighed, standing and cracking your back. "I have to go to work now, bills don't pay themselves. There's some pre-made meals in the fridge, and some bottled water as well," You smiled at him, his gaze refusing to meet yours. You took note of the slightly disgusted scrunch of his face, your lips curling in a sad, empathetic smile. "Please... Make yourself at home. What's mine is yours." You gathered up the used bandages, throwing them away, shuffling about for a bit, before leaving for your day.
 When you came back on your lunch break, you took note that he hadn't eaten anything. You would have found it odd, if not for everything else that surrounded him in his shroud of mystery.
 Life continued like this, and even if you were working yourself to the bone and absolutely exhausted at the end of every day, you found satisfaction in the recovery of your anonymous guest at your hand. It was enough to keep you going, knowing someone needed you. Even if sometimes you caught his frustrated glares, or looks of disgust out of the corner of your eye, you found it hard to take them personally. You wouldn't exactly be thrilled to be in his position, and accepting help was difficult for some people. Nevertheless, every scowl and glower he gave you was met with that same sympathetic smile, brows upturned, radiating nothing but unending kindness and compassion. You couldn't pinpoint when, unsure exactly how it came to be, but his dirty looks became less and less, slowly being replaced by what could be misconstrued as disinterest, but there was something else. Curiosity, maybe?
 "Okay," You called over your shoulder, sliding your shoes on at your front door, "I'm headed to work now! I'll be home a bit later than usual, I need to pick up groceries, so if there's anything you want I- I..." You patted down your pockets, brows furrowing at the realization you had misplaced your wallet at some point in your rush to get ready. 
 "Here," A baritone called out from behind you, scaring the living daylights out of you.
 You shrieked, whipping around with your hands up and out, as if you had any grace or tact to defend yourself against a potential intruder. Instead, you were met with a broad bandaged chest, eyes glancing up slightly to see that same look of indifference with something. What came out of your mouth was more a puff of air than a laugh, disbelief convincing you that you had just heard things considering up until now you had assumed he was mute. 
 "Th....thank you," You muttered, gingerly plucking your wallet from the palm of his bandaged hand. Meeting your eyes for just a moment too long, you found yourself searching. Searching for that unnamed emotion you saw whenever he looked out the window, or when you caught him watching you eat your food out of your peripherals, or whenever you gave him your understanding, endlessly kind smile. His abhorrence was apparent, before he turned around and headed back to your room. 
 Most of your day was spent thinking about your auditory hallucination, or at least that's what you chalked it up to be. It was deep, authoritative, and had a chill running down your spine. It also really couldn't have been anything else, and you had thoroughly gaslit yourself into believing you were crazy until you heard him speak a few days later.
 The stress of having two mouths to feed was quickly smothered upon realizing the man you had taken in didn't require food to survive. You wondered just what kind of being he was if not human, and the words fallen angel briefly passed through your mind. There was no such thing, and the thought alone was silly in itself. Still, it never stopped you from wondering just what you had gotten yourself into. Distracted thoughts wandered, resulting in you slicing at the tip of your finger as you prepared your dinner. You yelped, quickly sticking your index finger in your mouth purely on reflex. 
 "Stupid creature," Came that same baritone, your gaze shooting up and meeting the hardened gaze of your guest. Your mouth fell open, blinking stupidly at him, before your brain caught up to what he was saying. All you did was laugh, pathetically, and nod your head.
 "Yeah, it was a stupid mistake, wasn't it?"
 He seemed taken aback by this, downcast brows raising slightly as he watched you rinse out your cut, but not take the time to patch yourself up. You simply went back about your business making food, avoiding using your injured finger as you continued. He scoffed, which garnered your attention for a second time, your gaze coming back up only to see him turning on his heel and walking back to your bedroom.
 After dinner, you gently knocked on the bedroom door, slowly emerging with an armful of supplies. Unsurprisingly, he was on the bed as he usually was, looking out the window. Pattering your way over, you dumped the supplies beside him on the bed, kneeling on the floor to sort through everything, noting the fact he was already sticking his arm out for you to begin your work. This had been your routine for weeks, but even after all this time he never once willingly complied. The sight made you smile, a small laugh escaping your lips as you unwrapped him, put on the cream, then re-wrapped him. 
 "You're making fantastic progress, I'd say you probably won't have to wear so many bandages anymore after this week," You mused, working on the bandages on his chest next. "It's crazy, your hair is growing insanely fast, your skin is basically as good as new-"
 "Why do you persist?"
 The question caught you off guard, his voice scratchy from lack of use, but the deep rumble of him rattled your body. You paused, unable to answer right away. "Because... I saw someone out in the middle of nowhere gravely injured. I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if I just left you there."
 "So you pity me? You think you're superior, and this is for your own satisfaction?" 
 Despite the venom tainting his voice, you couldn't help but smile, shaking your head as you applied more cream to him. "No, absolutely not. I don't think I'm better than anybody. I saw someone hurting, and I know how it feels to have people turn a blind eye when one is in need of help." Your eyes glanced up, a lump in your throat forming when you caught him gazing down at you. "Humanity is... lost, I think. Everyone is caught up in themselves and their wealth and their own general wellbeing, we forget to take care of the people and things around us. We forget that we can't just take, and there has to be some give. So this is me trying to be a giver in a world full of takers, I guess."
 "It's pointless. You're insignificant." He scoffed, lifting his arms as you worked your way down. 
 "Yeah, maybe. Maybe I'm never going to amount to anything, and I'll have spent my life trying to make up for humanity's shortcomings and regret it later on, but I'm willing to accept that when the time comes. For now, I'd just like to help you get back up on your feet," You emphasized your words by tying a little knot in the gauze, holding it into place. Standing, you reached for his neck, your hand being intercepted for not the first time. He held it there, not as hard, but there was a threatening aura if you disobeyed his silent request. You stood, quietly, nodding for him to say his unspoken words.
 "You didn't bandage your hand earlier," It was more a statement than a question, but you understood the connotation behind it regardless. 
 With a shrug, and a smile, you braved through the threat and pushed your hand forwards, unwrapping him. He let you, surprisingly, with an unreadable expression. "I would much rather have all the supplies I need to take care of people that need help more than me. It's just a small cut, after all." He was quiet, watchful eyes peering at you as you unwrapped his now growing tufts of platinum blond hair. It was coming through smooth, even, as if he hadn't been scarred from head to toe in burns. "Besides," You continued, decidedly leaving the bandages off his head, "Why would I waste perfectly good supplies on someone insignificant?"
 Maybe it was because he wasn't expecting your self deprecating answer, or throwing his description of you back at him, but he seemed genuinely surprised. You didn't take the time to enjoy it, simply flashing him another smile before gathering up the used bandages and supplies and leaving him to his solitude he seemed to enjoy. 
 In the following days, he became a bit more chatty. At first you only noticed his presence, hovering around you in your general space, and part of you wanted to laugh at how similarly he behaved to a cat. The second you would acknowledge him, or glance in his general direction, he would leave the area, as if he didn't want you to perceive the fact he seemed to be curious about you and what you were doing. It was cute, despite the dangerous aura he seemed to exude sometimes, and you found yourself looking forward to just being able to exist in the same space as him. Once he managed to warm up to the fact you didn't seem to want or expect anything out of him, he became more obvious in your space, offering a roll of his eyes as you spoke to him about nothing at all in particular. Sometimes it was your day, your coworkers, something interesting you saw at the market. You never asked anything of him though, not even his name. He had given you a stern look one morning, asking why you never wanted information out of him. I'd like to think if you want to tell me something, you'll tell me when you want to, you said softly, who am I to make demands and take what I want from anyone?
 He never really had much to say when you answered his questions, but you could always sense the surprise. The realization came to you quickly, the side eye he would give you when you smiled at his otherwise hurtful comments or cynical view on you and your species speaking volumes. It was like he had already formed an opinion of who you were, a predisposition to fall into simple categories of "good", and "bad", with humanity, including you, falling into "bad". Nevertheless, you continued to surprise him, constantly going out of your way to make him a priority, put his comfort above yours to the point where you had been damned to sleep on your lumpy, three-times thrifted couch. Never once did you complain about the crick in your neck, or your sore shoulder, or the tweak in your back that made you wince when you knelt down to change his dressings. You were doing this of your own volition, after all, simply happy to help someone that was obviously deeply wounded by people before you.
 The day you came back dirty and defeated and worse for wear was the day something significant change in him. 
 Pushing through your apartment doors as normal, you saw him sitting on your couch, brows furrowing at the state of you. Your face was dirty, palms and forearms scraped and bloody, a small cut on your cheek and matching cuts in your work clothes. Despite your appearance, you greeted him with a weak smile. "I'm sorry," You huffed, setting a paper bag on the counter, walking over to the kitchen and washing up your hands, "Let's go change your bandages quick."
 Leaving no room for argument, not that you were sure he would do that anyways, you gathered up the necessary supplies and crouched in front of him on the floor. Trying desperately, but failing, you winced as you gloved your scraped palms, and this time finding yourself unable or willing to meet his gaze, You could feel him watching you, calculating your every movement. You had finished up quickly, now that he was more man and less bandage it was an easier process. Finishing up, you gathered all the used supplies in a pile, tossing it into the garbage. Looping back around the couch, you took a final look at him before nodding, a forced smile through pursed lips. "Alright, I'll get dinner start-"
 An iron grip encased your wrist as you began walking back around the couch, holding you firmly in place. You winced again, his fingers encasing a particularly nasty scrape. You didn't resist though, simply staring at him with a confused expression while he stood from his sitting position. He dwarfed you completely, despite the lack of exercise and movement he was still built and arguably massive, so you found yourself staring in awe whenever you were in relatively close proximity. 
 "Clean yourself up. It's an eyesore." 
 Perhaps his words stung more than they should have, but you sighed, nodding slowly. He released your wrist, letting you walk to your room to grab a change of clothes. Unlike his previous mannerism, existing in your general space without getting too close, this time he was hot on your heels, directly behind you the entire time. Plucking up some comfy pants and a loose shirt, along with a towel, you trudged your way over to the bathroom. Once you reached the door, you went to close it, eyeing him suspiciously as he stood in place with his arms crossed just past the threshold. Closing the door with a click, you stripped, turning the taps on and hopping in. Feeling the tears well up that you had been staving off were harder and harder to fight back, deep in and out breaths only helping so much before the cloud over your head began to storm. Before you could let it consume you, you washed yourself up, dried yourself off, and got changed, deciding distracting yourself would be better than wallowing in self pity at the loss of your wallet, groceries, and dignity. 
 Upon opening the door, your guest was still firmly stood in place, completely unmoved from his last position you saw him in. You stared back, taking a small step forward and hoping he would get out of your way. His eyes were watchful, knowing, and the way they peered down at your scrapes and bruises, then came back up to your eyes was enough to tell you what he wanted from you, and that he had no intention of getting out of your way until then. 
 You didn't know why, you didn't know why that was what broke the dam, why the smallest glance had tears pooling in your eyes and falling down your cheeks. You stood there, staring at each other as tears bubbled past your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks, until a soft sob left your lips. Hanging your head, you watched your tears hit the tile of the bathroom floor. Perhaps because you were clouded with stress and regret, you could justify taking a step forward. Perhaps, because you have been trying so hard for so long, you just needed someone to tell you that you were doing a good job, you could justify resting your forehead on his chest, loosely wrapping your arms around his waist. For the first time in the months you had known him, you took, and you felt a deep guilt about it.
 "I'm sorry," You whispered into him, closing your eyes as you went to pull back. A hand at the back of your head stopped you, pulling you back into your weak, one sided embrace. Despite the fact he didn't rest his arm around you, despite the fact all he did was put a hand in your hair, you found yourself tearing at the seams, coming undone and sobbing against him. 
 After a couple minutes, your shoulders stopped quaking, your sniffles began to subside, and you heard that deep voice in the crevice of his chest speak. 
 "Finish cleaning yourself up," His voice was low and assertive, to which you let out a small saccharine laugh, nodding your head against his chest. 
 "Okay. Thank you, friend," You slowly took a step back, looking up at his firm expression. Brows upturned, you offered your signature bittersweet smile, still teary eyed and ruddy cheeked as you wiped your face. His expression fell, lips downturned at your harmless name for him. It was visible, the cogs turning in his head as his eyes watched you brush the tears from your face, glance down at your pouty lips and wet jaw, then back up to your eyes. 
 "Nai."
 "P... Pardon?" You paused, watching him take a step towards you. 
 "Call me Nai," He took another step forwards, crowding you in his space against the bathroom counter. You found yourself bending back a bit, eyes wide and glassy as you watched him lean into you.
 "N-Nai," You repeated back to him, watching his eyes search you again. This time it was more frantic, his mouth hanging open, obvious distress on his face until he was nearly nose to nose with you.
 "Again."
 "Nai... What are- mmf-" 
 All it took was a blink. You blinked, and his lips were crushed up against yours in a searing kiss. It was desperate, needy, forceful, expressing every emotion he had kept bottled up in the back of his mind. White knuckle gripping the edge of your bathroom counter, you leaned back even more, spine bent over the surface at an uncomfortable angle. You tried pulling back, tried to ask him what he was doing and if he was okay, only for a hand to come up and firmly grip your jaw, holding you in place. The hand on your face squeezed, prying open your mouth with ease, his tongue licking into your open mouth before pressing his tongue against yours. Just as you let your eyes shut, just as you began to press back up into him, he ripped away, taking a stride back. Panting and delirious, you blinked through your daze, seeing the disgusted scrunch of his nose and downturned brows as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
 Flinging the partially closed door open, Nai stormed out in a heated rush, leaving the door to hit the wall and bounce nearly to a close again. All you could do was stare at the empty space where he was once standing, your mind having to work double time to catch up with everything that happened. Taking a deep, shaky breath, your fingertips ghosted across your lips in stunned silence. He looked so desperate, so hurt, and more than anything your heart ached at the expression that had graced his smooth, angelic features when you had spoken his name to him. Completely torn, unable to weigh the pros and cons of simply just leaving him be, or being at his side, you decided against your better judgement and slowly exited the bathroom. Your hair was still wet, cold droplets penetrating the thin fabric of your night shirt. Steeling yourself, you pushed through the threshold of your bedroom, only to see the tall man ripping off the bandages on his arms and chest. You sprung into action immediately, concerned for his healing process.
 "Nai, stop that-" 
 "Do not!" He yelled, turning around and facing you. His eyes were wide, stress evident on his face due to his inner turmoil. When you swallowed, taking another step forward with an outstretched hand, he snarled, clenching his jaw. 
 "Please, Nai, let me fix your bandages-"
 "Why do you persist?!" He asked for a second time, "You are a disgusting, unworthy creature. You are insignificant and meaningless! You have no right being so similar to him!" Insult after insult, he stepped closer, never lowering his voice, "Your kind are repulsive, you do nothing but take, nothing but steal, nothing but hurt."
 The fact you only pursed your lips, unmoving in front of him, seemed to escalate his fury. 
 "What makes you so different?" He growled, impeding on your space for a second time this evening, the malicious aura surrounding him different as his hand shot up, clasping around your throat and fingers digging into your jaw. Still, you did not move, only wincing when he tilted your head back at an angle stressful on your weary muscles.
 Your docile, unintimidated nature broke down his walls, his grip wavering, before loosening completely. He kept his hand in place, his chest heaving from his one-sided outburst. Quiet, much more quiet than he had been, he whispered, "Why are you so different?"
 Slowly, as not to shock him, you raised a hand, eyes downcast at a portion of his arm that was scratched and bloody, most likely from his frantic half attempted escape out of his dressings. You were careful, wrapping the ripped dangling bandage around that spot, lifting your other hand to tie it off. Grip slipping, his hand slowly slid down the column of your throat, the heel of his palm resting on your collar bone while his fingers brushed your pulse points. He was impossibly close again, but this time there was no distress. There was no urgency. Only disbelief, and that familiar inkling of something else you had gotten used to finding in his eyes.
 "I understand," You breathed, taking his sagging shoulders as an okay to keep going, "I understand that... People are cruel, and evil- I know. I encounter it every day. I know. It's tragic, and horrible, and that's why I try so hard to make up for others' shortcomings. I try my best to be the good I want to see in this world."
 Turquoise eyes watched your hands continue tying off frayed ends, watched your lips purse and eyes grow glassy at the state of him, and he huffed a sardonic laugh. "It's pointless."
 "I know. But that doesn't mean I'll ever stop trying."
 Only met with silence, you scanned his expression, seeing that same bewilderment you were met with nearly every time you surpassed his expectations. It made you smile your signature smile, a small puff of amused air leaving your lips as his fingers twitched against your skin, enclosing the base of your throat in a loose grip. There you stood in silence with him, letting him mull over whatever he needed to sort through internally, you would be patient in letting him take his time. Gaining trust was never an easy process. He noticed this, brows furrowing as your hand came up and gently caressed the rough tattered fabric clinging to his arms. He swallowed, and just as you opened your mouth to ask if he wanted you to fix it for him, he was barking a quick order.
 "Get on the bed."
 Instantly you were bashful, cheeks heating up in a vibrant blush, ears warm and expression puzzled. Still, you listened, watching his hand fall from your neck before stepping over to the bed. You crawled on, settling yourself in the center of the mattress before spinning around and facing him, folding your hands in your lap as you awaited his next request. You never ended up receiving one, simply shuffling up closer to the pillows as he climbed on with you. Once again, he was caging you in, eyes searching you for any dishonesty, as if he still had his doubts about you but was unsure how to prove you wrong when you were so irrevocably good. His interest seemed to outweigh his suspicion, or maybe there was something else that had him gravitating towards your melancholic, teary eyed optimism. Perhaps that him he had mentioned was not so different from yourself. 
 Unsure what to expect, you simply blinked at him, slowly leaning back on your forearms, before laying down, his body unmoving as he watched you shifted your weight to lay on your side. Your eyes stared out the window towards the starry night sky, listening to the rustling of fabric sheets, before the mattress was sinking lower behind you. The sudden shift in weight had you pressed back against him feeling an arm come around, elbow resting on your waist, forearm tucked around your waist and hand dipped under your side, you inhaled sharply, tensing slightly. His uncertainty and back and forth had you confused, unsure exactly what he wanted to do or what he thought of you, but the closeness and physical touch had your throat growing tight and those familiar tears welling up.
 "Nai... What are you doing?" You asked, barely above a whisper, unsure exactly what his intentions were with you at this point. Only met with silence for a short while, you closed your eyes, soaking in his warmth- because God was he warm- appreciatively. 
 "This helped my brother when we were young." 
 Understanding he probably wasn't going to elaborate further, you simply huffed a small, weak laugh at the insinuation he was treating you like a child, but you were grateful nonetheless. You weren't expecting him to have the capacity or compulsion to help you, considering many occasions had come up in the weeks you knew him where you had been in a position of needing help and he would only watch scornfully with crossed arms. A cheeky smile cracked your features, daring to turn your head and glance back at him at the risk you would be pushing him away. You were going to say something about him treating you like a child, but your smile fell the second you saw the expression on his face. His brows were downturned, but he looked tired, a twinge of sadness he poorly masked as irritation.
 "Your brother must have been lucky to have you," You whispered, unsure what else you could have said, unsure if there's anything you could say to take away his pain and sadness. "I know I am."
 There was a spark of recognition, realization, a switch being flipped in the back of his mind you barely managed to catch before he was leaning into you, slotting his lips against yours. You were surprised by him again, but much more accepting to his advances now that you got a brief glance into the window of his mind. He had so much inner turmoil, internalized emotion he masked with anger or irritation or indifference. Pushing into him, only enough to reciprocate, the arm around your waist tightened before turning your body, flipping you on your back. Gasping when your back hit the bed, the old springs below groaned in retaliation as Nai made space for himself between your legs, forcing them apart with flat, firm palms. His short, platinum blond hair illuminated by the moonlight made him seem even more angelic, the pale white light accentuating every dip and crease and crevice of his fit physique laying underneath tattered, torn bandages. You breathed as he leaned down, unable to contain your quiet, "Beautiful..."
 It was difficult for you to comprehend, the languid kiss becoming more tongue, his teeth bared and biting at your lower lip when you pushed back, threatening to invade the space of his mouth. Strong hands came up to the small of your waist, grabbing at you in such a way it made you vividly aware of the fact he was so much bigger than you. He seemed to realize this too, pulling back from your spit ridden kiss to glance down at your much smaller body so pliant in his hands. His brows furrowed, mouth hanging open slightly as he squeezed. It wasn't hard, only enough to make you squeak, his eyes shooting up to glance at you through his light lashes. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pushing it up and past the swell of your breasts despite your flustered protests. Not even realizing your eyes had clamped shut, you cracked an eye open to glance up at him, surprised to see him transfixed. His hands grabbed, squeezed, brushed, every bit of skin, setting your nerves on end when he always nearly avoided touching the most sensitive parts of you.
 The thought of has he not done this before briefly crossed your mind, but was dismissed when he thumbed over your nipple, eliciting a drawn out whine from your throat. You were half expecting him to have a negative reaction, considering every time you had an innately human reaction to something, he was quick to scrunch his nose and turn away. Instead, he repeated the action, leaning down to shove his tongue in your mouth in the process. It was easy, your gasp and whine allowing him immediate access, and your eyes were rolling back at the feeling of him caressing and squeezing you. Another whine pulled from your throat, this time muffled by his mouth and tongue, you gently placed your hands on his wrists. He tensed, but didn't stop, a silent affirmation that you could keep going. Your hands skated up his arms, over his shoulders, arms winding around his neck, nails slowly dragging up the top of his spine. He groaned, squeezing your breasts in his hands, before his hands shot down to your hips, pulling you up and into him to meet the roll of his hips. 
 "Ah! N-Nai!" You gasped, glancing down at the pair of oversized borrowed sweatpants he had donned nearly every day living with you. Never had you been so happy to own a piece of clothing from an ex, and the satisfaction of watching your house guest fill them out much better was a treat in itself.
 "Again," He demanded, watching your expression scrunch and release as he rolled his hips into you again.
 "Nai," You breathed, throwing your head back against the pillows, nails digging further into his back. The noise he emitted was animalistic, grip wavering on your hips. You heard a rip, eyes shooting open and glancing down to see your shorts and underwear in tatters on the bed. It looked as if they had been put through a shredder, and all you could do is stare with absolute bewilderment as to how he had managed that so quick.
 However, you were unable to say anything, now being zoned in on the heave of his chest, or how his eyes locked on the line of your pussy. A lump formed in your throat, wondering if maybe something was wrong, if maybe he thought you looked weird, or gross, and subconsciously you tried to tuck your legs up to close them, but with him occupying that space there was simply no room. He glanced up at your eyes again, then down, a hand abandoning its place on your hip to thumb over your already embarrassingly wet cunt and part you. Sitting back on his haunches, using his knees to push your legs apart further, his other hand came down, spreading you with both thumbs to observe. The embarrassed noise that left your lips didn't tear his attention away, hands coming up to hover over your mouth as you watched him, once again begging the question...
 "Have you never seen one before?" You blurted out, cheeks rosy and eyes half lidded. Really it was the only explanation, as far as you were aware you weren't completely abnormal down there, at least not that you were told. Almost immediately regretting your decision, the slow slide of his eyes up to your face, he didn't answer, but there was a tinge of pink at the tips of his ears that spoke for him. "Here," You bit your lip, a hand coming down and slowly sliding your fingers down, then up, gathering some of your slick before rubbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves, "Like that."
 Nai seemed to look apprehensive, confused, only for a moment before he mimicked your actions. You keened, back arching slightly as he pressed his fingers just a bit too hard. Reaching down, your fingers encased his wrist, holding it back slightly. "Gentler, you have to be gentle... Please."
 A frustrated scoff was all you received, nevertheless his actions seemed much more careful, gentler, and you were only moderately concerned that the thought made your heart swell. With his middle and ring finger moving in slow, deliberate circles, you arched your hips into him, eyes sliding shut once again as he toyed with you, his fingers quickening in pace. His name was a mantra on your lips, syllable after syllable egging him on, before his fingers came to dip down like yours had. They dipped down a bit too quick, too hard, his fingers dipping into your aching core up until the second knuckle. A choked out scream was ripped from your throat, not expecting the sudden intrusion, but his curiosity gave you no respite. His fingers delved deeper, then pulled back out, all the while you were gaping at the ceiling at how well only two of his fingers seemed to fill you. 
 "T-That's- N-Nai, it's sensit-ah! " You bucked your hips when his fingers delved back in, seeming to get the idea quicker than you were hoping he would. Crying out a moan, you whined for him, keened for him, peering at him through your lashes as he fucked you with his fingers. Despite being rough around the edges, his fingers managed to reach a specific spot that you were sure was going to make you cum soon if he kept abusing it. As if he had done this plenty of times before, his eyes were locked onto yours, his other hand pressing down into his tented pants. The pants were loose around his hips, baggy on anyone that wore them really, so you didn't know if he was really that fucking big or if it was the moonlight playing tricks on you. It made your mouth water.
 "Nai," You called out to him desperately, hand clasped around his wrist once again, "I want to touch you too," Your voice was quiet, raspy, sweet, and the smile gracing your features made his furrowed brows and focused scowl falter. Pushing yourself up on your forearms, you reached down, finger hooking in the waistband of his pants. Seemingly growing confidence, or more likely it was his ego shining through, he sat up on his knees, allowing your hands to pull the fabric down. 
 It was a visceral effort not to have the same reaction he did to you when you were met with sticky white petals encasing what would have been a normal, albeit massive, cock, absolutely shocked beyond comprehension. You always entertained the thought he was non human, considering how often he spoke lowly of humans and his incredibly short healing period. The glyphs running up the length of him left you breathless, the slow ooze and drip of endless precum coming from the tip making you lick your lips. When your hand gripped him at the base, the glyphs pulsed and glowed, the surrounding sticky petals curling in and around your hand. The glyphs began to spread, across his pelvis, down his thighs, and then you realized where you had seen these markings before...
 A Plant. He's a Plant. His otherworldly beauty and distain towards people suddenly made so much sense, and you couldn't fault him for it.
 Pushing yourself up onto your knees, but still not matching his height, you slowly moved your hand, a quick, deep exhale coming from his slightly parted lips. His cheeks were much more ruddy, a stark contrast to his pale skin and hair, and you couldn't help but smile softly at him as you gripped your fist a little tighter, the slide up and down slick and smooth with how much liquid was dribbling out of him. All you could do was watch, stare, transfixed by the dribble, the glow, before you couldn't take it anymore. 
 "Can you sit back for me?" You were sure he wouldn't be so willing to relinquish control, but the kind words coming out of your mouth weren't unalike the gentle words that you muttered whenever you would wrap him up or tend to his wounds. So, he did, kicking his sweatpants off and sitting back against the wall for you. Leaning down, you continued to pump the length of him. Testing the waters, you gave the head a kitten lick, pleasantly surprised by the sweet taste of the viscous liquid coming out of him. It reminded you of honey, or nectar, the floral scent behind it completely bewitching. Your lips encased the tip, a low groan being punched out from his lungs as you did so, hands working what you weren't immediately fitting into your mouth. 
 Really, it didn't take much to completely unravel him, only managing to hollow your cheeks and move down about half way before his hands were grabbing at your hair and forcing you the rest of the way. Unsure exactly why, even as you gagged you were moaning around him, earning noises from him in return, but you were completely enamored by him and his cock that you didn't care he was pushing his hips up to meet you half way, fucking your face. He was rough, tugging your head down in time with his upwards thrusts, his grunts and groans increasing in frequency as you completely lost yourself in him. Hand reaching down, spinning circles around your clit, you felt his hips stutter and falter before he let out a long, primal groan, pumping your mouth and throat full of cum. You spun your fingers faster, chasing your high desperately as he gave quick, shallow thrusts into your throat, but it wasn't enough. It didn't stop, and you thought you might drown in him before he was pulling out of your mouth, globs of sweet liquid pouring out of from your lips, clinging to your face and bed. 
 "Fuck, that-" Interrupted, you were grabbed by your bicep, being hauled up and tossed back. Your head hung over the side of the bed, addled brain trying to catch up to your sudden upside-down visual. When you felt weight on top of you, you strained to lift your neck, watching as Nai wrapped his arms around your thighs, tugging you into him. The slide was easy, instant, completely sheathing himself in you with one strong thrust. You wanted to scream, but the position you were in coupled with your throat being fucked raw, all that came out was a pathetic squeak. He grunted, setting a brutal pace, tugging you in time to meet his thrusts by your thighs. You moaned, gasped, sputtered, tried calling to him to slow down, please, but it fell on deaf ears. 
 Completely unexpected was the hand that came down between your legs, thumbing at your clit. That seemed to be enough for you, your mind running blank and seeing stars as he continued to fuck you through your earth shattering orgasm. Your legs seized, muscles spasming and tensing as you felt an unfamiliar wetness between your legs. A deep grunt and growl was immediately followed by a pair of strong hands grabbing at your waist, tugging you up and into him as if you weighed nothing at all. Delirious, mind spent, you could barely register the fact you had thrown your arms over his shoulders, a hand gripping your hip so tight it was certainly going to bruise as he fucked up into you. His other hand grabbed at your cheeks, squeezing and forcing you to look into his piercing gaze. He was beautiful, his eyes, the crease of his brow, the snarl on his lips and his bared teeth, primal and angelic.
 "You're mine," He growled, your mind spinning as you moaned and whimpered for him, "I'll keep you, pet, I'll protect you, but you're mine. Do you understand?"
 Barely able to nod in his grip, you simply swallowed, choking on a raspy yes. 
 "Say my name."
 You didn't think you would be able to, mind hazy and voice weak, but one hard thrust up had your voice punched out. "Nai!" You keened, eyes sliding shut as you felt your second orgasm creeping up on you so soon. "Nai, please I'm go-gonna- cum!"
 The firm grip he had on your face moved back, fisting your hair and pushing your lips up into his as he groaned into your mouth. His cock twitched inside of you, pumping you to the brim with more cum. He never stopped, hips humping up into you through his orgasm, pushing you over the edge on your second, and you were completely devoured by him. 
 Stilling, Nai pulled back, his heaving breaths fanning over your cum and sweat sticky face. His eyes scanned you, and all you could do was stare dumbly in return. Slowly, he lifted you, grunting when his softening cock slid out of you, petals curling and wrapping up to encase him. The slow dribble down your thighs made him huff a seemingly amused exhale, keeping you close in his arms as he laid back on the bed, you on top of him. Nothing was said, only the wind and chirp of bugs outside encasing you in a melody perfect to drift off to. You sighed, adjusting your head so your face was tucked into the crook of his neck. He tensed, but said nothing, so instead you filled the silence. 
 "I'll be yours, Nai. I'll take care of you."
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httpiastri · 7 months
Text
dating paul would include... ᰔᩚ
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traveling during the breaks
obviously, if you date paul, you have to go on vacations with him. we've all seen his vacation pics from the summer (and winter) breaks, the pink swimming trunks and the linen shirts showing off his chest and shoulder muscles so beautifully. but not only are vacations with him great because you have the world's best piece of eye candy with you; you'd also have a blast with him.
going on vacation with paul means traveling around italy on a vespa, him driving you around as your arms are wrapped around his torso. the way your grip tightens and the sound of your squeals when he speeds up makes him bubbly, and if he feels stable enough, he places one of his hands on top of yours as he drives, fingers intertwining with yours.
it means you both deciding that your personal mission on the trip is to find the best pizza and pasta in the country, traveling around to different cities to experience and rank the restaurants with the highest ratings on the internet. it means midnight pizza runs to that place in the city that's open 24/7, forcing paul to taste the hawaiian slice you ordered despite how much he whines about pineapple not belonging on pizza. and it means visits to romantic little restaurants, not being able to say no to him when he suggests doing the 'lady and the tramp'-move with the spaghetti, both of you giggling until you're almost thrown out after accidentally bumping noses.
it means spending a lot of time at the beach, going swimming and sunbathing and just relaxing together. you cheer him on when he does his flips from cliffs and bridges, mostly watching from afar, but he always finds some way to trick you into coming up to the cliff with him – and then he always pulls you in with him. but you also go to the beach at night, walking barefoot along the shoreline and feeling the warm sand between your toes. you look at the stars together, his hand on your waist squeezing you close to him and his fingers drawing random figures into your skin as you point out the constellations to him. his lips pressing against your forehead as he hums, nodding along to whatever you're saying, is a confirmation that he's listening – even when he's more focused on your pretty lips and soft skin.
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taking care of you
paul is very caring. he often comes off as cool and casual to other people, but the soft spot in his heart for you makes paul act a bit differently with you. whenever he's around you, he wants to make sure you know that you're the most important thing to him. he listens well, gives you advice when you come to him with issues, and he takes care of you in every way he can think of.
he's attentive, and after having known you for many years now, he knows what every subtle little sign of yours means. he can tell when you're only pretending to be happy, when you're uncomfortable, when you need something; he can read you like an open book. therefore, it doesn't come as a big surprise when he notices how quickly you're getting drunk on one night out.
it starts off lightly, with you sipping slowly on some kind of fruity drink while chatting off with dino's girlfriend, growing more relaxed for every passing minute. paul notices instantly, but he lets it slide – you're in a club, after all, and you're all there to drink. the drinks turn into shots, and the chats turn into showing off your moves on the dance floor, while paul merely sits at your table and watches you with a big grin on his face. through the night, he keeps ordering glasses of water that he helps you down in-between your drinks. but despite his services, it doesn't take too long before you get a little too 'tipsy', walking up to him with wobbly legs and such a soft expression on your face.
"paulie!" you exclaim as you come up to stand next to where he's sitting. he notices instantly – you only call him that when you're drunk. "did you see my moves?"
paul nods, a little smile taking over his lips. "you were great." one of his hands reach up to your waist, pulling you a little closer. "how are you feeling?"
"lovely!" you turn your head to the side, looking out on the dance floor again. "i think i'm going to go back, it's so much fun, you should come with me, we can dance and-"
the sound of a chuckle leaving his mouth makes you stop in your ramble, eyes darting back at him instantly. "i think we should go now, actually."
"go where?"
"to your apartment. or mine, or-"
"why?"
paul shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. "because you're drunk, sweetheart."
you frown – you're having so much fun, why leave now? "that makes no sense."
"maybe it does, maybe it doesn't." paul places his other hand on your waist too, and his hands squeeze your sides. "let me take you home and take care of you. please?"
you cross your arms over your chest, huffing. "what's in it for me?"
"well," he snickers. "i'll give you as many kisses as you want. and i'll help you with your skincare." the way his fingers dance up and down your ribs tickles, and the tingling sensation is so immense you can't hold back a smile. "i'll even massage your feet, since they must be dead after dancing so much in those shoes."
you can't hold up the sulky act anymore, so you take his hands in yours and nod. "only if you give me a kiss now, too. just so i know what i can expect."
a laugh bubbles from his chest as he stares at you in complete adoration. he lets you pull him up so he's standing, before he engulfs your face in his hands and gives you a sweet smooch.
paul is a good man, so he keeps his promises. when you fall asleep in the cab, all worn out from dancing, he carries you carefully up to his apartment and makes sure not to wake you up, before tucking you in between the sheets. he gets a makeup wipe from the bathroom – it's better than nothing, he thinks – trying his best to be as detailed in his cleaning yet not rough enough to wake you up. he massages your feet for a few minutes, hoping that it'll make some difference in the morning. and even if you're not conscious enough to remember it, he does give you tons of kisses. on your forehead, your cheeks, your temple, the corner of your lips.
paul is a caring, lovestruck fool, and his soft heart beats only for you.
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race rituals
surprisingly enough, paul likes to be structured and have the same schedule & rituals before a race. he may seem like someone who doesn't care, someone who's extremely easy-going, but it's the rituals before he even gets to the track that let him be carefree.
on media days and the fridays of the weekends, a lot of people assume he's got a devil-may-care kind of attitude. he's often spotted joking around with dino, throwing american footballs with karl, or just chilling on the floor of the prema truck. on the earlier parts of the week, he eases up – but the moment he sits down in the car before quali on friday, he switches his focus. he's completely and fully zoned in for the racing.
when he's done with qualifying, the first thing he needs is to have his debrief with his trainers. depending on the result of the session, the debrief can be lighthearted or serious, but the driving always needs to be discussed. then he needs to confirm tomorrow's schedule, to make sure it's all set and ready to go. and lastly, he needs to talk to you.
you always find some secluded corner of the paddock, sitting together on the floor with one of his arms draped around your shoulders. you don't need to talk about the qualifying itself; if it's gone badly, he'll ask you what you've done all day, what you had for lunch, and which drivers you've seen around the paddock. but if it's gone well, he won't shut up about it. he'll tell you about all of the corners he got the most out of, what parts of the track he could've improved in, and how he felt when his trainers praised him on the radio. all this while you're holding his free hand, playing with his fingers and resting your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeats all the way in to your own heart.
he has a routine for the mornings before races, too. they all start in the hotel room after he wakes up. first, he brushes his teeth. then, he needs to make sure all of his necessities are packed; race suit, shoes, gloves, anything else he might need. then, he always has the same breakfast.
all steps of his routine are important, but his most important ritual is the one that includes you.
the one thing he needs the most right before he leaves through the hotel room door is a hug from you. he needs you to hold him tight, press your lips to his cheek, and whisper to him that he'll do well. he needs you to assure him that no matter what, you're there for him and you believe in him. with your trust, he can do anything.
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post-season comfort
paul desperately needed encouragement.
after spa, and especially after the season finale in monza, things felt extra rough for him. it was hard for him to recover from the fact that everything had slipped through his fingers. sure, he put on a big smile when congratulating gabriel and zak for p1 and p2 in the championship, and he was genuinely happy that prema won the teams championship. but he couldn't help but to feel... sour. he believed that he deserved that win, or at least the second place. if only he hadn't been so unlucky...
you see right through him, of course. no matter how hard he pretends that he's fine, that it doesn't matter and that he's fine with third place in the championship, you don't believe it. you know him, and you'd do anything to help take his mind off things, to get him to stop overthinking it.
post-season means a lot of sessions in the gym and even more time spent on the sim, preparing for everything that's to come and trying to work on the weaknesses that showed this past season. it's very physically demanding, and in combination with the disappointment from his championship standings, it leaves him exhausted most of the time.
but whenever he's free, you see it as your duty to take him away from it all. the stress, the racing, the pressure. you know that deep down, he does love it; racing is his life for a reason. but you also see how worn out he is, how his smile doesn't really meet his eyes anymore, how persistent the bags under his eyes are. sometimes, the emotions can be too much, and you love to help him out even just a little.
so, every day off, you plan something for him. you go rock climbing, swimming, stargazing. you go on road trips to nearby cities, sightseeing and pretending to be tourists even in areas you've been to hundreds of times. you drag him along to the spa to get massages and to just relax, and he ends up being the one who refuses to leave, despite how he groaned about not wanting to go beforehand. you even take him to race in go-karts, to show him that racing still can be fun and that it doesn't always need to be super competitive (because you threaten him and say that if he speeds away from you in the first straight, there's no way he's getting any kisses, so he has to pretend like he's slow).
it's not like paul doesn't understand what you're doing; he's fully aware of your plans, and he finds them completely adorable. one night, as you're about to part after a romantic dinner date, he stops you on your porch just as you're about to go into your home.
he wraps you in his arms, hugging you close as a deep sigh leaves his chest. he relaxes, his whole body just melting into you as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck. "thank you," he whispers, his words tickling your skin and his lips brushing the space behind the back of your ear. "i really needed this."
maybe you're reading too much into it, but you know there's so much hiding behind those words. it's not often that he opens up about racing, so you're grateful for every little moment of it, even if it's minimal. "you deserve the world", you tell him, because it’s true. to you, he’s the most precious thing in the world. and by the way he smiles at you, eyes filled with so much gratitude and so much love, you can tell he feels the same way about you.
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oscar piastri version ll ollie bearman version ll f2/f3 masterlist
author's note: very long overdue lol. just like the oscar smut rotting away in my drafts. anyway, i miss paul so much it hurts. looking at old gifs of him and just crying. hope u have a good day too <3
496 notes · View notes
rogueshadeaux · 17 days
Text
The show, the NCR, and me defending their timeline
If you know, you know. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. Do not read if you haven't seen the show in its entirety. Stamped and immediately published so if you see spelling mistakes, no u don't
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Now, the tv show did absolutely fuck up the fact that they didn't put a date under the blast, but you need to realize that Lucy and Maximus both lived in Shady Sands as children! The blast itself couldn't have been in 2277.
Especially when the show is set in 2296.
Now following this, in the show, Maximus/The show calls Shady Sands the first capitol of the NCR. I believe this correlates to the 'fall of Shady Sands' to say not that the NCR is irrelevant, but that something happened along the way for the NCR to essentially lose its hold on the city. The fall of an empire takes longer than a day. And events like that are labeled in hindsight! It wasn't the 'fall of Rome' to the Romans, it was a buildup to the world's shittiest Tuesday. We know it as the Fall of Rome.
The Vaulties know it as the Fall of Shady Sands.
The question is; what did the city fall to? Fact of the matter is that the NCR was already showing signs of being overtaxed with the First Battle of Hoover Dam. They lost a prison to some basic ass gang, and a good 100 men in the fight to reclaim it. They didn't pursue the Legion after the battle and could have done numbers to the faction. There's a very good chance that something happened very fast and very violently to make the NCR lose its hold on Shady Sands. They’re not retconning New Vegas, they’re giving us mapped out teasers to the truth! That’s why 'The Fall' starts in 2277. It begins with Hoover Dam.
New Vegas doesn't happen till 2281. Lucy and Maximus are both early 20s, and were at least 5 and at most 8 when Shady Sands was nuked. 15 years have passed since New Vegas and 19 since the alleged bomb! They would have to have been younger for the bomb to happen before the game. It's very plausible that the events happened post-game, and do not retcon NV at all.
In the end, we won't know the truth till next season, but I think there's a reason the writers both inserted Shady Sands and the NCR conversation into the story; its going to become very relevant, very quickly. House is in the show, for goodness sake, at that same round table Bud is. There's a reason Hank ran to NV. They're going to have to address the events, and we are going to get answers.
EDIT TO ADD: this is a tweet from Emil Pagliarulo, designer at Bethesda:
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And Bethesda/Todd okayed or vetoed every choice and plot point in the television show as they’re also making another Fallout game, and have plans for the events in that. Todd wouldn’t have nuked their best selling game. I wouldn’t be surprised if we get a statement from him sometime this week because of the blowback regarding the blackboard.
It’ll be fine.
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ihavethedreamies · 3 months
Text
Deserted | Hoshi
Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi - Seventeen)
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~5.1k
Pairing: Hoshi x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Sweet Girl, Baby Girl, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!), Added some piercings for ~flair~
Author's Note: I had my best friend read this the other day and she said it was a little much for her, but still enjoyable and she was sure others would love it.
I am planning on doing something like this for each member, so stay tuned!
-> Woozi's <-
-> Wonwoo's <-
I am cross-posting this on Archive under the same name. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on Tumblr my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." You groaned as your sand-rover grumbled in protest, slowing down before it halted. The engine not only shut off, but it let out a giant puff of black smoke. The smell of burning rubber stung your nose and you groaned louder, grabbing your bag off the passenger seat. Throwing the door open, you're glad that happened as the sun was setting and not when it was high in the sky. The desert, however, could be very cold at night. A gust of wind blasted against the door, almost slamming it shut on your legs. With a yelp, you swung out your arm to catch the door and sighed when it didn't keep going. Unwrapping the thin scarf around your neck, you rewrapped it around your head and face to protect you from the blowing sand. Slipping your goggles on over to cover your eyes, you winced when the leather cracked further. Getting another strap would be a pain in the ass. Grabbing the door, you let it slam closed and slung your bag over your shoulder. Walking around the vehicle, you noticed that is had been hit harder than you anticipated. Since your rover was just that, you had no gun mounted on it, so when the acid-spitting space worm shot out of the ground, you could only flee. The back tire had finally been eaten away enough to go flat and there was also a hole that led to the gas tank. Only a bit of the fuel dripped out and you knew there was no chance of getting the now wrecked rover anywhere. Climbing up on the other back wheel, you got the hatch in the back open so you could grab your bigger pack. Grunting, you swung it onto your back and cinched the straps tight. Turning back to the last outpost you had been at was a no go. There was a huge alien monster in the way. You weren’t sure where the next outpost was, so you pulled out your old, beaten up holo-tracker. When you turned it on, the holographic screen glitched, so you slammed the body of the device against your thigh a few times and then it evened out. Clicking the buttons, one of which kept getting stuck, you saw that the next outpost was miles away. Walking that far would be an absolute drag but at least it was going to be night.
"Freaking desert planets…" You grumbled as if you had ever lived on a different one. You grew up on Sierra-Victor-Tango, but after taking a trip to several other human worlds, you learned that your home was…well, a shithole. Everything was old and falling apart. In the cities, crime was rampant, and the smaller outposts and towns were poor. When you told your mother you were going out to scavenge through the desert, she was unsure. Not because she was worried for your safety, but she had no idea what you hoped to find. It was a sandy wasteland inhabited by weird space bugs and lizards. You had never known earth like your grandparents so when you learned Terra animals and bugs looked so different, you understood why your grandma was so skeeved out.
Looking back at the wrecked rover, you wondered if it could give you some credits for scrap, but the work to get all the way out to it was not worth it. Hiking up your pack again, you set off, holding the scarf to your mouth as a gust of wind blasted you. A little blinking cursor flashed on your holo-tracker indicating where you were as you walked toward the setting sun. Behind you and to the right, the two different moons rose higher and got clearer. Twinkling stars began to appear and the cold was starting to set in. In the distance, you saw a giant rock outcropping and you headed for it. It was off the packed-in road, so you couldn't go very fast in the shifting sand.  When you reached the rock, you walked around to the other side, looking for a crack or something you could wedge into for shelter. What you were not expecting was some kind of shelter erected against the stone. It looked semi-permanent and constructed around some kind of indent in the giant rock.
Creeping closer, you saw someone sitting at a fire pit, their back to you. What startled you the most though, was a giant feline-like shape lying next to the fire as well. You had never seen one that big and it looked like a tiger from the books your grandmother brought from earth. Instead of orange with black stripes, it was black with white stripes and had long top fangs. The wind shifted; it was coming straight behind you instead of at you. The beast lifted its head, beginning to growl. At this, the person turned around and you saw it was a man. He had a scar across the bridge of his nose and his ears were heavily pierced. Another piercing accented his right brow, and he had a long narrow tattoo behind his ear and down his neck. You immediately shot your arms up in surrender and he motioned his tiger to lay down.
"Who are you?" He called and you dared not step closer.
"Uh…(Y/N), of Morgran Town." You had never seen someone like him before. He was incredibly attractive, and his poncho-like cloak hit right at his ribs, and he had nothing on under it. His muscles were toned, and his skin was smooth other than a scar near his hip. Tight leather pants clung to thick thighs and his big boots highlighted his long legs. Even his arms were well defined, a belt holding some sort of flask wrapped around his right bicep. His eyes were bright yellow, and you didn't know that happened naturally, his hair was white with black tips, reminiscent of his tiger.
"Morgran Town? You’re a long way from home." He replied, motioning with his hand for you to come closer. Finally, out of the shadow of the rock, he could see you in the double moonlight. You felt…tiny. He wasn't super big, not like some you've met, but he wasn't short either.
"Well, I'm a traveler, my rover broke down a few miles back." You finally let your arms down and instead moved to grip the straps of your pack.
"Headed to Korvo?"
"Yes."
"Don't."
"What? Why?"
"Two weeks ago, they got hit by slavers, it’s a ghost town." The man motioned you closer and toward a stump he had carved into a seat. Slowly, you walked the long way around, avoiding the cold gaze of the animal. You removed your pack, letting it thumb next to your seat, but you didn't take off your other bag; just in case you had to flee. Now that you were closer, you could tell that some kind of meat was being roasted on the fire.
"It won't taste too good because I can't really cook, but it will be cooked." He flashed a smile, and it took you off guard. He was…adorable.
"You'll share?" You looked at the roast, your mouth watering. You hadn't had fresh meat in months, only dried stuff. You wondered if he made the kill or his pet.
"Don't worry about Horanghae, he won't bite unless I let him." He waved at the animal, and you nodded, still feeling nervous in its gaze.
"I'm Hoshi." He held out his hand to shake and you shyly returned the gesture, and he sat back down at a long bench.
"You're a traveler? What do you do that for?"
"Oh, uh, I'm mostly looking for old wrecks of like shuttles and ships and stuff." You shrugged. It took forever to find things like that, but you gained a knack for it, and it got you a crap ton of money sometimes. While not official, you basically worked for the International Assembly as a freelancer, so you did jobs at your leisure.
"That must take a long time." He smiled and you shrugged.
"Sometimes. What about you?"
"I'm a Ranger." He held up a medallion hanging around his neck that had an upside-down triangle-like logo on it. You had heard of them before, there weren’t too many of them, it was hard to get accepted. They traveled the desert and worked as bounty hunters. That's all people really knew about them.
"So, if Korvo is a bust, where should I head next?"
"Hm. There's nowhere close really, not that you can get to easily by foot…I can't leave here for a few days, so you can stay with me till then. I'll give you a lift after." He jutted his thumb over to a hover bike that was resting next to his abode.
"Oh! Thank you. That's very generous." You let out a sigh of relief, you had begun to wonder what you were going to do. You were really bad at hunting and had only so much water in your canteen. He told you about his situation as you waited for the meat to be done. He had a well that was in the back of his tent, which was half in the rock. He had blown a giant cave into it with a grenade and set up his home. Horanghae would hunt for him, and he had a communication relay set up as well to talk with the rest of the Rangers.
"I only have one place to sleep though…" He finished off his explanation and you waved him off.
"I can sleep on the ground, not the first time I've had to."
"No way. What kind of person would I be if I let my guest sleep on the ground?" He shook his head. Thanking him, he declared the food done and hacked of a chunk for you. Hoshi speared the meat on a wooden skewer and handed it over. Eagerly eating the food, he watched in amusement at your ravenous behavior and then ate himself.
"Thanks. I can't begin to thank you; I would've been a goner." You shuddered at the thought. If you had arrived at Korvo and found it wasted, you might have had a breakdown.
"Don't worry about it!" He took the rest of the meat off the spit and gave it to the tiger. He led you inside his hut, even carrying your big pack in for you. It was nice and cozy inside, beautiful colored Afghans and rugs were laid out everywhere. The front room was like a living room and had a pile of pillows to sit at and even had a fairly nice holo-screen set up. There was a curtain against the left wall that he told you led to the bathroom. The next room was the bedroom essentially and he told you to go in and make yourself comfortable, he would sleep in the front room. Thanking him again you scurried into the back. That's where he had his communication equipment set up, and there was an actual bed in there! Under all the blankets and pelts, there was not just a sack of straw or even a crate; it was an actual mattress. You hadn't slept on one in almost a year. Taking your boots off, you jumped on and groaned at the comfort. Pulling the softest Afghan over you, you drifted off quickly and slept better than you had in a while.
A soft beeping stirred you from your sleep. Glancing at your watch, you saw it was almost sunrise and so you sat up, stretching with a groan. The beeping was coming from the monitor he had set up. Not wanting to invade his privacy, you got up to go into the other room and inform him. He was still asleep, having spread out across the floor and pillows. His tiger must have been outside. It would have been cute to see him sleep like that if it wasn’t for the fact his torso was now completely uncovered and only his lower half was covered by the blanket. Not just that, but his tight pants were thrown over a chair in the corner, and the blanket was tented in a very obvious way. The realization made you squeak in embarrassment, and you fled back into the other room. While you had not been with too many guys before, you knew for sure what he was hiding under there. The soft beeping continued from the monitor, and you wondered what you should do. If he had to go in there to check on it, he might not realize he had a…problem. Living alone probably allowed him some freedom, but you were here, and you weren't sure he would think of that.
Dashing from the back room into the bathroom, you realized how bad you had to go. Once that was done, you realized in shock that the plumbing was…actually plumping. Kind of. It was one of those high-tech situations that vaporized the waste into nothingness. The sink actually gave you water and it seemed so would the shower. As you were still in there, staring at your face in the mirror, you kept thinking of how to wake him. All of a sudden, the beeping got loud enough for you to hear in the other room and when you peaked your head out, you saw he was stirring. That solved that problem. Peering through the curtain, you watched him get up and your jaw dropped as the blanket fell. Luckily, he was at least wearing undergarments, but they were tight and hid very little. He was very nicely defined, his muscles weren't huge, but he still looked extremely good. His hair was messy, and you were enraptured watching him stretch. He trudged into the back room, scratching his chest and seemingly ignoring his morning problem. You heard a ding and he spoke to whoever was on the other line. His voice was rough from sleeping and you knew you were in danger. How is it that you managed to find such a gorgeous man out in the middle of the desert? Another voice responded to him, but you couldn't pick out any specific words and soon their conversation was over, and you jumped back into the bathroom and away from the curtain.
"(Y/N)? You in there?" He was standing right on the other side, and you swallowed before answering in the positive.
"I, uh, need in there, but…" You knew why he was hesitating and for some reason, some stupid little voice in the back of your conscience screamed loud enough for it to come out of your mouth.
"I can help you with that." You blurted and gaped at yourself in the mirror. He didn't say anything, and you kicked yourself. Why, why did you say that? Before you could say anything else, the curtain pulled back and you saw him behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His look was much different than the night before. His yellow eyes that shined with laughter had turned sharp. It made you shudder as you made eye contact with him indirectly through the mirror.
"I-I mean, I don't know how to thank you for helping me…So, I uh, can help with whatever." You were glad the mirror didn't go too low, otherwise you would definitely be staring. You could see him slowly look you up and down and you froze under his gaze. It was like what the tiger did to you last night, but ten times worse. You felt like a deer about to be eaten, and it turned you on to no end. Wandering around the desert for a living doesn't exactly afford many opportunities for romantic or sexual escapades. You figured the case was probably pretty true for him as well, if not more. Realizing in the night you had shed your shirt; you were just standing in the wrap-around you used as a bra and your leggings. Because of the heat of the desert and the tightness of said leggings, you usually went commando, and you wondered if you were wet enough for it to soak through the fabric.
As he stepped into the small space, he let the curtain fall behind him but didn't step completely through the entryway.
"Are you sure?" He stared you in the eye, once again through the mirror, you did not yet have the courage to turn around. While you wanted to say you were joking, that it was just an impulse to tease, you couldn't. Seeing him to begin with was enough, let alone in his current state.
"Are you sure?" You shot back. You thought yourself rather plain with no distinctive features. Your freckled skin from years of sun exposure was highlighted strangely by the tan line that formed around your goggles. You were covered in dirt too because of wandering out in the blowing sand. His poor bed was probably covered in sand too. Not easy to find somewhere with running water, let alone hot water, your hair was pulled back into a braid but was not exactly clean. You were glad body odor had been genetically eradicated decades ago. Plus, compared to him, you were painfully average.
When he didn't verbally respond, you grew even more nervous, but he stepped in further till he was standing a few steps behind you. He peered at the mirror from behind, and he was nearly a head taller than you. His stare was even more intense now and you shivered. Taking a deep breath, you finally worked up the courage to turn around, and he was immediately on you. His kiss was searing, and you immediately groaned. Nothing about it was gentle, it did truly feel like he was trying to eat you. He bit your bottom lip and you moaned, his tongue quickly flicking against your own. Something cold and round hit your teeth and you realized his tongue was pierced. Oh lord. Hoshi's hand had come to rest around your throat, under your jaw, but was in no way harsh or tight. This way, he could angle your head just right. Your neck protested some and so you propped up on your tip toes, tipping your head and allowing the kiss to deepen further. His second arm wrapped around you, almost encircling you while his hand gripped your ass. The hand on your jaw moved to the back of your head and you wrapped your smaller hands over his biceps. Pulling back for air, his fingers buried further in your hair and yanked your head back so he could kiss down the column of your throat. You moaned as you felt his teeth buried slightly into the flesh, then sucked hard, definitely leaving a mark. As he pressed you so close to him, you could feel his covered hard-on against your bare stomach. Your head swam as he sucked on your earlobe and his hand left your head to wrap around your back.
"Jump." He ordered and you followed, his mouth landing on yours again as he left the bathroom. The man easily carried you and brought you to the bedroom, "Put me down a sec." You told him. Hoshi raised his eyebrow in question but did so. You immediately sank to your knees, and he groaned before you even touched him.
"You sure?" He asked.
"If I go to do something, I'm sure." You told him, implying for him to stop asking. He nodded and you nervously but quickly reached for the waistband of his only item of clothing. Exhaling, you removed the garment and gaped as he stepped out of it. Swallowing a build-up of saliva, you no longer had to imagine. What shocked you the most however was the two metal spheres adorning the head of his cock. A full reverse prince albert. That was the hottest thing you had ever seen.
"Good?"
"Yes." You cleared your throat, wiggling your jaw a bit then reached for him, laving your tongue around the head, the metal imbedded there cold where his flesh was hot. He swore as you began to descend. Your jaw protested some, but in the best possible way. You saw his eyes widen in shock then narrow as he moaned, your nose reaching his pelvis. Swallowing around him, the piercing was an odd sensation, you pulled back as little as possible so you could still breathe. Once you found the proper depth, you pulled off him and gave him a look, spreading your legs more and placing your hands on the floor.
"(Y/N)?" He asked and you simply opened your mouth wide, tongue out.
"Fuck." He practically growled and he adjusted your jaw by the chin and then he slid in. Keeping your teeth covered was a little difficult with his girth, but you managed. You could focus on that while he did all the movement. He had noticed what you were doing and made sure not to go too deep but every so often so you could still breathe. Your gag reflex was pretty much gone at that point for several different reasons, but with his size (and the piercing) you let out a small gag every once and a while. Hoshi's hands dug into your hair as he used your mouth, very quiet but high-pitched moans flowing out. Feeling him twitch, you knew he was close, and he almost pulled out. While part of him wanted to see your face covered, he much preferred it when you grabbed the back of his thighs and buried him completely in your throat.
"Oh, fuck." He groaned, throwing his head back as he came. You moaned at the feeling yourself and the vibration rolled his eyes back. When he was done, you swallowed to make sure everything went down and he pulled out fully, still half-hard. Licking your lips sensually, he huffed and reached down to lift you up under your arms. You yelped at the east to which he does this, and he literally tossed you onto the bed. He grabbed the fastener of your breast band; as he roughly pulled it open and off, the motion flipped you over onto your stomach. He was manhandling you with such ease. Hoshi moved your braid out of the way and started to lay seething kisses along your spine and over your shoulders. His hand came under you and ran down your stomach till the tips of his fingers reached the waistband of your leggings. He pulled your waist up, his now fully hard cock wedged between the cleft of your ass. You were definitely leaking through the fabric. Placing a final kiss on your shoulder, his hand hooked into your bottoms, and he tugged hard. You flipped over once again and as Hoshi dragged the last of your clothes off, he also tugged you to the foot of the bed. Before you could get your bearings, his hands gripped your thighs, tight, and pressed your legs open. You knew you would have bruises there in the morning and his hot breath on your core made your hips seize.
"W-wait-!" You gasped as his tongue licked a hot stripe up to your clit. You had never had this done before, just never really cared to. It was something new for sure and it was almost too much. The slight cold of the ball piercing his tongue made you flinch. You could feel hip lips curl into a smirk against you at this and caught him looking up at you. The sight was overwhelming, and he sucked hard on your clit, you head slamming back into the bed.
"You taste amazing." He groaned against your skin. His hands moved from your thighs, and he wrapped his arms around your legs and buried in deeper. The hold he had on you prevented almost all movement and your upper body squirmed to compensate. Hoshi's tongue seemed like it shouldn't be as long as it was, nor as strong. The piercing was brushing right against your entrance and hit your clit over and over. He was like a man starved, dehydrated, and he was sucking your soul out.
"Ah!" You almost screamed when he came back to your clit and your orgasm hit you, hard. It was stronger than you had ever experienced and lasted much longer. He groaned against you, his continued tongue movements dragging it out. When it finally calmed down, he pulled away as the overstimulation began to sting. The man let you catch your breath and when you were able to open your eyes to look at him and he was drenched.
"Oh my god!" You gasped and he just laughed, wiping his mouth and sucking everything else off his hand and fingers.
"You ever squirted before?" He asked and you shook your head, mortified.
"It’s okay, pretty girl, that was sexy." His smile was too cute for what he just did to you.
"You need a minute?" He asked and you rested back again with a nod. Delicately, instead of what he was doing before, he picked you up and shifted you higher up the bed. His lips came back to yours, gentle at first and growing heated again. There was something about his kisses, they alone made your head swim. Was it him or his skill? The tongue piercing? Who knows? As he felt your body become less tense, his arms wrapped around you and tilted your hips up so he could grind against you. You were still somewhat sensitive so even just the slight friction was so good. Already knowing this from when he was straining your jaw, you knew that his cock was going to stretch you so good. The sting would be so worth it. It had been a long time since anyone filled you up and no one had ever as much as you knew Hoshi was going to.
"You ready, princess?" He finally let your tongue go and you could not form a thought to make words, so you nodded. He smirked and the head poked at your entrance. As he eased in, the sting was more intense than you thought it would be, but so, so good. The stretch wasn't the only thing that took your breath away. That gosh darn piercing perfectly hit your clit and rubbing against your walls as eased in. At least he was self-aware of his size because he went slow, but knew he wasn't hurting you. Your hard exhales were tinged with a moan, nearly imperceptible. He was big, you knew part of it was because you were quite small, but his cock was impressive on its own.
"So tight." He grunted, grinding into you and your clit throbbed.
"J-just give me a sec." You gripped his shoulders, breathing through the delicious stretch. It felt incredible despite the slight pain. After you sat for a bit, he shifted some and then moved slowly, hiking your leg up over his elbow and he went even deeper.
"Fuck!" You moaned, your head tossed back, and you almost came again right then.
"You okay?" He chuckled some, he could tell by how you clenched that it felt good, not that it hurt. That fucking piercing brushed right against your sweet spot. Hoshi had already ruined you for any other man, and he hadn't even moved.
"Ready?" he asked, massaging your hip. You nodded and the hand on your hip tightened its grip, and his arm hiked your leg up higher. He barely pulled out, maybe an inch, then his hips snapped, and you came.
"Ohgodohgodohgod." He grunted as your walls clenched him tight and he was growing smug at the pleasure he was wreaking on you. In truth though, he was trying really hard not to cum already himself. He knew he would have some time before he could again given he had already came, but it had been a while. However, every other time he had waited this long, he could go for many, many rounds. If he could, he would keep you in his bed and in his hold for the rest of the day. He wanted to make it so you couldn't walk by the time he could bring you to the outpost. Honestly, he wanted to make it, so you never wanted to leave. When your orgasm died down, he waited a bit longer, you laid limp in his arms.
"You're gonna have to do all the work now." You told him with a tired giggle, like he wasn't already doing that. He smirked, notched your other leg up over his arm, then proceeded to fold your legs up to your chest. He pressed your thighs down with his hands, forming more bruises and you prepared yourself. His next thrust was almost hard enough (it seemed) to dislodge a kidney. It knocked the wind out of you and your sensitive skin burned. You were in for a ride. His thrusts were not even as hard as they could be, you knew. Hoshi only pulled his cock halfway out before he was buried as deep as he could go. After every thrust, he would grind down into your clit, the metal ball inside rubbing your g-spot. Your moans were getting harder to contain, you almost wanted to scream. Drool pooled out of the sides of your mouth; your entire body was on fire.
"Don't hold back, baby girl, let me hear you." He grunted out, his thrusts slowing but no less deep. Finally getting permission to be loud, you whined, and he unfolded you and led you to wrap your legs around his waist. Up on his knees, he positioned you to rest your lower back on his thighs and he rolled his hips to snap his cock into you over and over. The new position let that stupid piece of metal scrape perfectly against your walls, the head of his dick probably bruising your cervix. You were ruined, no thoughts in your head. You were letting out slurring moans of his name and pleas for…you weren't even sure at this point. He had fucked you stupid.
"(Y/N), pretty girl, where can I cum?" His thrusts had gotten more erratic, he wasn't able to hold back anymore.
"I-inside." You moaned, able to form a complete thought.
"Yeah?"
"Please." You keened and this sent him over the edge. Getting as deep as he could, he swallowed your moan, sliding his tongue back in your mouth, painting your insides white. The hot sensation gave you another orgasm, not nearly as strong though, and it was a relief. As the spurts of cum stopped, he pulled away from your mouth and he  chuckled at the fucked-out look you had.
"I'll let you rest, sweet, but then I'm going to fill you up again."
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Masterlist
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foone · 1 year
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My one bit of advice I think every gamer should hear:
GO PLAY OUTER WILDS.
Seriously. It is easily one of my top 5 games of all time, and that's mainly because I'm being cagey about if it's the #1, because it probably is.
It's a game where you're a little alien who is taking their first flight into space, in their little spaceship. You go to space and find a mystery, and have to figure it out.
It's a game entirely about learning things about the world you're in: it's a tiny solar system modeled amazingly well, with varied planetary environments, archaeology, and quantum fun.
It's a game that's hard to talk about without spoiling, because it's about solving the mysteries. There used to be some other aliens here, they're long gone. What happened to them? Their whole society was built around trying to find something: what was it? Did they find it? And there's a weird disastrous event that keeps happening, why? Can you stop it? Should you stop it? Is it connected to the other weird things that keep happening? What happened to that ice planet that exploded with vines? One of the astronauts who came before you was the best pilot who ever lived, but they vanished. What happened to them? And why can you sometimes hear their harmonica over the radio when you point it at your own planet?
The game is wonderful and non-linear and the most unique approach to a Metroidvania I've seen years: it's basically "what if we did the Metroidvania idea but with no items or power ups? What if the thing that you got to unlock new areas WAS INSIDE THE PLAYER'S HEAD?"
Because you don't unlock the next area by picking up the high-jump boots, you unlock it by learning something new. Now you can do something you didn't realize you could before, but now you know you can.
And that's only one of the amazing concepts they stuffed in this game. The itemless Metroidvania, the tiny simulated solar system, the quantum mechanics... Each of these alone could be enough to carry an indie game. They stuffed them all in one game combined with a great story, and that's in a gamewith relatively little dialogue!
There's like a dozen people to talk to, but you spent a lot of time reading conversations left by the long-gone aliens. You get to know them, what they were working for, how they interacted, and what happened to them, thousands of years later. It's less the bioshock style audio-logs, and more like going over bits of ancient writing, making connections and correlations from the fragments you can find.
And don't get me wrong, this might sound like this game is going to be dry and boring: it is so very not. It is a game about mysteries in the void of space, the death of a civilization, and the potentially world-ending dangers that face a living one, and even bigger concepts. It could so easily be a cosmic horror, about the cold death of space and the universe itself, and the nihilism of realizing that even a race that could cross the gap between the stars and bend spacetime to their will... They too died out. If they couldn't make it, what hope do you have, in your little spaceship that's primarily made of WOOD?
And yet... The game is always engaging. It has a few scares, and space is never a safe place to be, but it maintains a sense of humor and wonder. Yes, the universe can be scary, but it's also amazing. And you're just a little salamander-guy who wants to see it all, and figure out all the things. Maybe you don't know something yet, but tomorrow is a new day, and you can go blasting off to another planet, find some writing in a city suspended upside down over a black hole, try to fly into the core of a water planet, dodge giant anglerfish inside the warped space of an exploded planet, and try to explore an ancient city that's slowly filling with sand. It is a game about Things Ending, and it refuses to give into despair. It is one of the most relentlessly optimistic games I have ever played.
And the experience of playing it is so unique. This isn't a game where you could watch a letsplay and only get spoiled on some plot points, it's a game where the fundamental gameplay loop is about learning things. You should try it for yourself. It's got hints and many different avenues to explore (and it even keeps track of them for you, in case you forget!), so you don't have to worry much about getting stuck for too long. You can always put aside a "puzzle" and come back later, after you've learned more. (I put puzzle in quotes because it's not exactly a puzzle game. It's more of a mystery game. You aren't solving a logic puzzle or putting the pegs into the right holes, you're asking "Why is this like this? Where does this go? What is this for?" and then figuring that out from clues)
It's like 25$ on steam, and you can get it for Playstation and Xboxes as well (sadly no Switch version. They were working on one but it seems that version has stalled, with no announced release date)
You can probably get it for like 10$ if you're patient and wait for a sale.
One final note: there's also a DLC. The DLC is fully self-contained, in that you won't miss anything playing the main game without it. It basically adds a huge side-area to the game which goes and fills in some gaps in the history, explains some things, and introduces some more variety to the Outer Wilds universe.
It's utterly amazing, too. It's basically Outer Wilds 2 in everything but name, but it's totally fine to just grab the base game and play that. You can always come back and grab the DLC later if you want more Outer Wilds.
Seriously. To sum up, Outer Wilds is one of the greatest games ever made, it won a ton of awards, and it should have won more. They should invent more gaming awards just to give to Outer Wilds. This is one of the games that is going to be talked about in future "history of gaming" classes and put on lists of the 50 most groundbreaking and influential games, alongside things like Myst and King's Quest and Zork and Mass Effect. It's just that good, that groundbreaking.
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scryarchives · 8 months
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𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
it's been almost a month since the whole "Victoria Kord Blue Beetle Fiasco", and Jaime has loads to sort out, especially since the new neighbour might not be what she says she is...
masterlist | next !
– pairings: jaime reyes x oc
– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers
– author's note: after watching the blue beetle movie, I've been so down bad for jaime reyes i had to make a one-shot series for him. disclaimer: i'm not of Hispanic descent and i have don't know casual terms spoken, so do correct me if im wrong!
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The sun's heat beat down on the hot sand, heat waves radiating off the ground from the high temperature. A winding tarmac road lay between the plains, and a little vehicle sped down it, emptiness surrounding them.
“Mama, how much longer until we get to… Palmera City?” The woman drawled, picking up a pamphlet in her right hand, and pulling her wireless headphones down with the other.
“We're pretty much there, Drea,” A woman replied, hands on the steering while and eyes trained on the road. “We’re almost there.”
“Why can’t I just fly there myself? You and Amma can take the car. I’m twenty Ma, not five,” Drea huffed, neatening out her ruffled ebony waves. “You taught me how to fly when I was ten, anyways.”
“Kanna, you don’t even know where Palmera City is,” Another woman turned her head in the passenger’s seat to face her daughter in the back. “And you don’t know where the house is.”
“I do know where it is, El Paso Street, Palmera City.”
“Which house then? And you only knew Palmera City from the pamphlet,” The woman driving chuckled. “Besides, don’t you like spending time with your mamas?”
Drea said nothing in return, grumbling and pulling her headphones back over her ears, blasting her music at almost full volume.
“She grew up too fast,” The other passenger sighed, her hand on her forehead. “When did she become twenty? Remind me, please.”
“She turned twenty almost two days ago, aṉpu,” The driver grinned. “Did you forget that she almost set the house on fire when we told her about the move?”
“Please, don’t remind me, Zara,” Anika sighed at her wife’s entertainment. “I’m still drained from all of the mess I had to clean up after.”
“Nika, we’re moving, new people, new sights to see, and new opportunities for a good life for you and me. For our family,” Zara, the driver, smiled softly. One of her hands slipped off the driver’s wheel, encasing itself around Anika’s smaller hand.
“Besides, Drea needs a job, something that can keep her steady until she finds out what she wants to do,” She shrugged. “And Palmera City might have everything she needs.”
“‘Might have’ are the keywords.” Anika’s worried eyes met Zara’s calm ones. “If it doesn’t? Then what? She’ll just, what, fly alone to a new place?”
“Probably. But that’s okay, I was her age when I came here, and I needed something new. Something different. And then I met you, and I felt love for the first time,” She winked, her wife flushing.
“Oh stop it you, focus on driving!”
“Alright, alright. But you get my point, right?”
“Yeah… I do."
“Until that happens, if that ever happens, we’ll be just fine.”
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“Hermano,” Milagro huffed, her hands forearm deep in water as she held a plate in her hands, holding it up to her brother, who was staring out the window in curiosity.
“Jaime,” She called out once more, her brother still unresponsive, the girl’s patience snapping. “Earth to Jaime Reyes!”
Jaime jumped slightly, taking the plate, gaze focused back on the window while muttering apologies to his younger sister.
“Sorry, sorry,” He wrapped the plate with the cloth in his hands hurriedly.
“What’s got you so distracted?” Milagro frowned, peering over his shoulder to see a moving truck parked outside their house. More accurately, in front of the empty house across the road from them.
“Oh, new neighbours,” She nodded, taking another soapy plate to rinse off from her mother. 
“I wonder what they’ll be like,” Bianca Reyes hummed, handing Milagro another plate.
“It’s about time someone moved in that house,” Milagro chirped. “That house has been empty for as long as I can remember."
"That's not true," Jaime glanced at his sister. "Mrs. Diaz lived there for a while before her son moved out."
"Oh yeah… But that was still ages ago. So my statement still counts."
Jaime playfully rolled his eyes, a smile faint on his face. Glancing over, Milagro questioned her brother teasingly.
"Why are you staring there so much, anyways? Did you see Jenny?" She wiggled her eyebrows.
"What? No, no. We're just friends," He huffed.
"Sure you are."
"No, look. Khaji-Da scanned their moving stuff—"
"Woah! Boundaries, hermano!"
"Exactly! But she did it somehow and she warned me about them."
"What? Is she saying that they're villains? Like Jenny's crazy aunt?" The girl beside Jaime placed a hand on her hip. "C'mon, they're new neighbours, how bad can they be?"
"Pretty bad," Khaji-Da chimed in Jaime's head, her host glaring.
The rest of the day proceeded to be uneventful. After dishwashing and tidying up after lunch, Jaime hadn't done much other than trying to find work or helping his mother around the house.
Occasionally, Nana would come around for a drink while taking a break from her sewing, and Milagro soon joined Jaime in his room, the two job-hunting together. Uncle Rudy was… well, somewhere working on "an upgrade for the truck Jenny had gifted", according to him.
If he could, Jaime would have described the atmosphere as "chill and somewhat productive".
His mind drifted from the list of temporary jobs he could apply for on the site he sat on to the whole "Blue Beetle Fiasco" over a month ago. To the friend he hoped would be something more, until she, in the nicest way possible, tried to turn him down.
"Jaime, you're thinking about Jennifer again."
Instantly, he shook his head, trying to refocus his attention.
"Nope, nope. I'm completely focused. See? I can qualify for a…" He narrowed his eyes, reading the word his pointer was aimed at. "Chiropractor? What, no—"
"You need to move on, Jaime. The positive is that Jennifer is still your friend. You have more responsibilities."
"Yeah, and I'm doing it with Mili," Jaime then looked around him, wondering why his sister's questioning and prying hadn't begun.
"Milagro had left to get a drink, while you were busy 'looking for jobs'," Khaji-Da chimed in, rubbing in her point before her host could ask.
"Thank you, Khaji," Jaime huffed sarcastically. "How long has she been gone for?"
"Ten minutes."
"That long?"
"You were deep in thought."
"Got it," He grumbled, pushing himself off of his bed to find his job-hunting partner. "Mili!"
He called out his sister's name, hoping to find her peering around a corner in response, but was returned with nothing, not even a single quip.
"Mili?" Jaime frowned at the lack of noise in his home.
"Nana? Uncle Rudy?"
Seeing that no one was responding, Jaime narrowed his eyes, his mind darting to the worst-case scenario.
"Khaji, can you scan or locate where my family is?"
"Your mother—"
"Jaime! There you are!" Bianca cut Jaime off, her son relieved to see that she was alright.
"—is right here."
"Thank you for the… status, Khaji," He whispered before smiling, letting out a sigh. "Mama, where's everyone?"
"They're outside, greeting the new neighbours!" She furrowed her brows, a smile still gracing her lips. "I thought Mili told you? Oh, I'll talk to her about it later, come come! Let's meet the neighbours, yes?"
She grabbed Jaime's upper arm, rushing out to meet up with the rest of the family.
"Jaime, meet Mrs Tlatilpa, and her daughter, Alejandra!" Bianca smiled.
Jaime smiled over at who he assumed was Alejandra, as she did look quite a bit younger than the woman beside her.
Taking in her appearance, he noticed that she almost looked Hispanic, like him, though her skin was slightly darker. Her hair remained wavy and was a dark shade of brown, pretty much black if he hadn't noticed it against the sunlight. If he looked close enough, he noticed that she had a few strands of braids tied together here and there.
She tilted her head as her wireless headphones covered in vibrant stickers were plastered all over, covering the brand's logo, and it seemed like stars — he noticed a few hand-sewn ones on her baggy jeans — seemed to be her favourite pattern.
Triangle earrings glinted in the light as her dark brown eyes watched him in curiosity. If he looked close enough, he could almost see sparks of red—
"You're staring, Jaime."
He flinched from Khaji-Da's comment, holding his hand out to shake hands, the woman across from him doing the same.
"Reyes, my name's Jaime Reyes," He nodded, putting on his best smile.
"Alejandra Tlatilpa. But you can call me Drea," She nodded respectfully before switching her glance to his shoes. "Cool shoes."
"Ah, uhm thanks. Not my favourite pair, but they serve their purpose," He chuckled, almost sadly as he remembered the fate of his now-incinerated favoured shoes.
"She's dangerous," Khaji-Da pointed out, Jaime's brows furrowing.
"What? No way," Jaime muttered, Drea, blinking in confusion.
"I'm sorry?" She questioned for clarification.
"No, sorry, I uhm… just a habit of mine, I talk. To myself," He quickly responded, his smile turning awkward.
"Right," She pointed a finger, nodding once more. "Got it. Don't worry about it, we all have our habits."
"Look at the two of you getting along!" Mrs Tlatilpa grinned. "Kanna, why don't you go get Mama? I'm sure she'd love to meet new people."
"Yeah, sure," Drea chirped, smiling one last time at Jaime. "See you around."
"So, your wife?" Bianca questioned, her eyes curious.
"Ah yes, it's a long story," Anika laughed nervously.
"No, no worries! In fact, would your family like to join us for tea?"
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gif by @rob-pattinson
taglist: @mooncleaver < comment/dm me if you'd like to be on the taglist! >
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jiubilant · 1 year
Note
Dragons are attracted to large, unnatural stone structures, especially when they have curves and arches, and especially when high up. For this reason, ancient nords built their cities and temples with excessive stone arches and flying buttresses (to say nothing of word walls, with large dovahzul writing) to invite dragons to visit. Care was also paid to ensure that this architecture would support multiple dragons worth of weight, and would survive erosion for as long as possible.
In 4th era, the College of Winterhold is a very appealing spot for resurrected dragons, with it's stone ring of tall arches, it's strange twisting geological base, and it's great height relative to the sea of ghost and the nearby town.
Unfortunately, instead of being greeted by friendly dragon priests ready to sing their praises (or a word wall with interesting information about the history of the area), dragons instead discover the college abuzz with angry mages, blasting up at them with expert level destruction spells. Additionally, if dragons attempt to roost on the building to gather their strength, they often find footholds crumbling between their talons, due to Savos Aren's mismanagement of the building's upkeep. The dragonborn is also often present, which is just a nightmare in general.
All of this comes together to make the College function similar to a gigantic bug-zapper, complete with dragon corpses littering the sand and water immediately below. It's extremely sad.
now this is deeplore
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fuyuu-chan · 4 months
Text
Unexpected Encounter Turned Into a Nice Vacation
Pairing: Vyn Richter x Reader
Genre: Fluff
✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧
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Going on a vacation out of town to go to the beach but also meeting Vyn there was unexpected but you are glad at the same time since you get to spend time with him.
Vyn accompanied you as you do to him. You both also stay in the same hotel. And spends your days together.
Like swimming in the pool and the beach, watching the sunrise and sunset. Touring around the place and the city, walking around the beach without slippers to feel the sand. Shopping together, like what you need at the moment and some souvenirs. Eating together and visiting famous shops around the area.
And he invited you to also go to the party boat and you agreed. And it was fun, since when you arrived there, there was a lot of people, you go outside and the breeze is cool which you very much like. You and Vyn drink outside as you watch the sky and the ocean while the music is blasting inside the party boat making it like a background for you two.
After this vacation, it makes you had more memories with Vyn and you wish to had more in the future. This encounter with Vyn also makes your vacation more fun and amazing than you have ever imagined.
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ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ
Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you
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yourdeepestfathoms · 6 months
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TADC Playing D&D
(ALL PLATONIC/FAMILIAL.)
Caine is the DM obviously
Pomni plays a Firbolg Warlock (but her Firbolg’s design is the one that looks like a cow. y’all know the one. it’s the only valid design for a Firbolg)
Jax plays a Tiefling Rogue (obviously)
Ragatha plays an Aasimar Cleric (also obviously)
Zooble plays a Changeling Barbarian
Gangle plays a Gnome Druid
Kinger plays a Warforged Artificer
And then Caine reveals the plot twist: it’s gonna be irl dnd, and they ACTUALLY PLAY their characters
They’ve got costumes and their character traits and everything! Like, Ragatha gets angel wings, Jax has horns, Pomni gets a tail (because, again, cow-like Firbolgs are the only right way to design Firbolgs, and you can pry that from my cold, dead hands)
The terrain also changes into the same terrain as wherever they adventure to
Antics ensue!
Zooble is the tank
And they can instill the fear of god upon man
But you know who else can be scary as fuck?
Ragatha
Have you ever fought a Forge Cleric before? Did you know those bitches can wear Heavy Armor?
Combat is WILD when they’re actually acting it out
Though, it can barely be considered “acting” because Caine has somehow made magic possible????
Kinger asks to make the most wild shit because he thinks it’s fun
Gangle once got downed, got to two (2) failed Death Saves, was brought back up, and then was IMMEDIATELY downed again
Pomni gets anxiety over even the most mundane of rolls
She was asked to roll Perception, and she was sweating buckets, afraid to fail and screw everything up, and it was literally just to find a nice bakery in the city they were at
Jax asks to pickpocket orphans
Ragatha: Pomni, why is your Strength a seven???
Pomni: i don’t want to talk about it
Her Unarmed Strike literally does zero (0) damage
She never uses her weapon ever
Only Eldritch Blast
She also uses other spells ofc, but Eldritch Blast is her go-to
“Doll Face, i’m down” “Pomni’s having a panic attack” “okay, and? i’m downed”
Jax and Ragatha have beef the Whole Time
“why did you think you could hide in an empty arena??” “because i’m a Rogue, and they have Advantage on hiding!” “IT IS AN EMPTY ARENA WITH NOTHING BUT SAND.” “I AM A ROGUE WITH ADVANTAGE TO HIDING.” “THE ARENA IS EMPTY. THERE IS NOWHERE TO HIDE.”
Despite being a Firbolg, which is considered a race of Giant, Pomni is STILL considered as a Small creature (due to her own height)
Because of this, she can ride every single other person in the party, as the Ride rules in dnd state that a willing creature at least one size larger than you and has appropriate anatomy can serve as a mount
This has started a “technique” the group has named “War Horsing”
In which Pomni sits on someone’s shoulders and spams Eldritch Blast non-stop while the other person wrecks house
(She usually sits on Zooble’s shoulders and Cure Wounds them whenever they take too much damage)
She’s also called the “cannon” of the group because she’ll sit on Zooble’s shoulders and use Fireball
Speaking of Fireball!
The gang once found Beads of Fireball, and Jax, wanting to be a boss bitch and show how much better than everyone he is by single-handedly killing this super hard boss they were fighting, thought that because he’s a Tiefling and Tieflings have Resistance to Fire Damage, he could easily survive a blast.
Anyway, he ended up taking 80d6 Fire Damage after he threw all ten (10) beads at once.
Even when the damage was halved, he still died instantly.
Ragatha considered if it was worth it to Revivify him.
Pomni uses Speech of Beast and Leaf to speak with plants, and the plants just cuss her out.
Zooble: can i roll to pick up Pomni by the ankles and swing her around as an improvised weapon?
Pomni: ?!?!?!
(Caine said yes)
(Zooble ended up doing five whole damage with Pomni’s body)
Caine once rolled 200d8 Bludgeoning damage because Kinger fell off a mountain (he was Revivified by Ragatha after)
“COUNTERSPELL THIS, B[@&$%]” -Zooble, right before decking an NPC straight through a wall
When fights get too hairy, Jax will Disengage and leave the party to fend for themselves
There was once this HORRIFIC chase scene the party had to try to survive
Zooble: *polymorphed into a mountain goat by Pomni, sprinting as fast as they can*
Gangle: *Wild Shaped into a mouse, desperately hanging onto Zooble’s fur*
Ragatha: *flying away while holding Pomni*
Pomni: *clinging to Ragatha like how a baby sloth would cling to its mother, shooting Eldritch Blast at the monster every turn in a desperate attempt to slow it down, screaming*
Jax: *already 200ft in front of the others because he ran off way before them*
Kinger: *wondering if it’s a good time to tell the others he has Longstrider prepared*
Jax got maimed by a Mimic because he couldn’t help but not loot a chest he found
He then proceeded to get maimed by ANOTHER MIMIC in the VERY NEXT ROOM because he also tried to loot that, too
Zooble: does a 22 hit? 😏
Caine: no
the entire party: 😟
Pomni got bitten by a werewolf and failed the Constitution saving throw, so she ended up becoming a werewolf. During her first transformation, she lost control after failing the saving throw and immediately started mauling Jax.
Everyone just kinda stopped and watched in awe for a moment before they realized they should probably help him.
“He needed the humbling” -Zooble
Kinger crafts Pomni a gun and gives it to her
Caine: so you all see the werewolf pull out a Tommy gun
The party had to fight this giant frog, and they all thought it would be a walk in the park, but then it swallowed Pomni, and the simple encounter turned into a fight for Pomni’s fucking life because Pomni was actively suffocating inside of it, and Jax wanted to blow up the frog with a magic grenade he had, despite Pomni being in there (he was well aware that she would also take damage), and Ragatha was trying to see if she could heal Pomni from inside the frog, and Gangle ended up Wild Shaping into another frog and begging it to let Pomni go.
Pomni was traumatized.
Caine: who’s done a good job at roleplaying recently?
Kinger: well, Pomni did have a panic attack
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Text
Ridin’ The Waves 🏄‍♀️ | Javy “Coyote” Machado Imagine
Takes place before, during and after the events of TGM
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TGM masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Javy “Coyote” Machado x pro surfer!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)
Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, pop culture references, details of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 9.1k
Requested 📨 yes/no (for @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby)
Premise: From the moment she could walk Y/n L/n belonged to the sea. Riding the waves that started as a hobby, only to lead her to the world’s greatest sporting stage. It would take time before her dream of Olympic Gold would happen as surfing had yet to be recognized by the IOC. But in her pursuit of becoming the greatest female surfer of all time, Y/n found who she believed was the closest person to paradise.
Note: I gotta say writing athlete/Olympian!reader imagines with the dagger squad are truly some of my favorite. Gosh I cannot wait for next year because that means…..2024 Olympics 👀 Guys I’m almost done with my semester! I have less than two weeks and all i have left to do is a paper and final project !! Almost to the finish thank goodness and then I move in with my friend before starting my summer job! Hope y’all enjoyed this work and let me know what you think!
Be sure to watch the video I linked during the Rock’s segment. I didn’t make it up it actually was a segment during the opening ceremonies on NBC’s coverage.
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“Is this heaven?” He laid on the surfboard beside her, feet in the water with the warmth of the sun hit his back. A cool breeze was starting to set in as the most beautiful sunset was before him, painting the sky an endless murrel of pink and orange. Only the subtle echo of the low tide filled his ears. Javy pressed his cheek onto the board, finding her smile which made his own appear at her words.
“More like paradise.”
Everyone had their own definition of paradise. Maybe it was the quiet plains of Montana or the mountains of Appalachia. Maybe it was strolling down the streets of Paris with the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Rain pouring down on New York City with a steaming cup of tea in hand or driving down the Pacific Coast Highway with “California Love” blasting through the radio. Reading a book by the fire next to their soulmate, dancing with strangers at a concert. Ask anyone what they viewed as their own personal paradise and the responses will vary.
Y/n L/n felt she was in paradise almost everyday of her life. Waking up to the view of the ocean while birds flew overhead. Feet hitting the sand as she ran to the waters with her board, anxiously waiting to ride the waves. Salt water coating skin and hair, sun beaming down.
Paradise.
From the moment she could walk the beach became her second home. Having grown up on the island of O’ahu Y/n learned how to surf before riding a bike. Her parents surfed. As did her siblings. Getting an instructor wasn’t needed with a family who knew everything there was about the art of surfing. Y/n received her first board at age four, and from then on her life was devoted to the water. Owning more swimsuits than t-shirts and shorts by the time she reached fifth grade.
She was a natural at best. Always predicting when and where the best waves would be. Timing the push up so perfect others—even her family—were unable to keep up.
“C’mon, leave some for the rest of us,” her brother would groan, missing a wave due to her swooping in at the last second. Y/n only laughed in return.
“Gotta be faster than that.”
Her parents, surfers themselves, were basically her coaches. On weekends they were waking her up at the crack of dawn, breakfast on the counter and telling her to be on the beach when she was done. Then of course she had to apply sunscreen, the substance coating every inch of her skin. Once on the beach a thirty minute run and stretching was mandatory before she could get in the water.
Skipping such a step would have her sore all night.
“We’re gonna work on your 360, cutback, and tube ride before finishing the day with cleaning up your alley oop.”
“If I don’t make a lot of mistakes can we watch Lilo & Stitch after dinner?”
“Yes, that is a fair deal.”
Mistakes? What are those? Mistakes weren’t in Y/n’s nature and if they occurred it was a rare sighting. Only time Y/n ever did mess up on a maneuver was when she was first learning it. Once she had it down it was impossible to lose.
All the friends she made loved going to the beaches after school and on weekends—getting all their homework done during the school hours so their entire afternoon was free. They signed up for competitions together, Y/n entering her first at age 14 for the 2004 Juniors season after competitions in regionals since age 11. “You’re gonna win the comp, Y/n.”
“Oh stop playing,” she brushed her best friend off, only to hear the murmurs of agreement from the rest of the group.
“I’m serious! You catch the best waves and ride them perfectly. Those judges are gonna be amazed on Saturday—I bet you’ll even get a sponsor.”
Her best friend was right. Not only did Rip Curl—THE Rip Curl want Y/n to be the face of their new campaign, but the surfing world would know her name for generations to come.
“Welcome back to our coverage of the 2004 ISA World Junior Surf Championship here in beautiful O’ahu, Hawaii here on ESPN. We’re dwindling down on the final competition with the defending champion from last year's event, sixteen-year-old Carolina Kanoa, and newcomer, Y/n L/n. If you’ve been watching the competition then you know all eyes have been on the fourteen-year-old native of Kapolei here on O’ahu, who scored the highest in her heats and received all tens in the quarterfinals after a perfect run.”
“It was quite the sight, Tom. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so effortless in this competition. Y/n’s delivered a captivating performance each wave she’s catched—always getting the first one in her heats and pulling out a big score putting her high on the leaderboard. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see her on top of the podium today.”
“For anyone watching at home who are new to surfing or just want a little refresh on the scoring system, here is how it works: a panel of five judges determine a score one through ten, ten being the best, for each surfer on their wave based on degree of difficulty, innovative maneuvers, combination of major maneuvers, the variety of said maneuvers, and the speed, power, and flow. The highest and lowest score are thrown out leaving the remaining three, which are then averaged out. Now a surfer can catch as many waves as they please but only the two highest scoring waves will be added together to give the total score for that heat. From there competitors are eliminated until there are two finalists.”
Treading water, Y/n paid close attention to the scene in front of her. With only three minutes left on the clock, she was one wave away from crowning herself the Junior World Champion.
“Give me a sign,” she breathed in the salty air. Her thoughts were answered seconds later by a chill running down her neck, gaze snapping to the left where she saw the water draw back. Springing into action, Y/n paddled towards the forming wave, timing it at the perfect moment to end the competition on a bang. She heard the crowd cheer when she stood up, increasing each maneuver she did until finally riding out the end of the wave right as the bullhorn sounded.
Her heart pounded, “Did I just win?” Damn sure she did. Nothing could describe the feeling of holding the championship trophy at the top of the podium. And what made it ten times better, an ambassador of Rip Curl offered her a sponsorship. Before long Y/n’s name and face were plastered across all their campaigns. After winning the ISA Junior World Championships three years in a row—making her a household name in surfing—Y/n went on to senior international competitions. From there her glory only skyrocketed.
ISA World Surfing Games, World Surf League, Rip Curl Pro, Big Wave Tour, Vans Triple Crown of Surfing. Y/n’s little shelf of trophies turned into a full length china cabinet. Traveling back and forth from O’ahu to America. Sometimes even going to South America and Japan for international comps. By age 19 she had created her own maneuver earning her even more attention due to the level of difficulty.
“I don’t see what the fuss is about?” She chewed on a piece of spam, leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter. “All I did was add a couple of extra spins on my aerial.” Her mother gave her a bewildered look.
“That move in itself is difficult, Y/n. Not many perform it in competition and the fact you successfully landed one—with your little spoof nonetheless, people are gonna be amazed.”
“Well, I guess I just got lucky.”
Following high school Y/n turned professional and moved to Honolulu to attend the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa where she studied sports management with a minor in sports science. A family friend had an old Volkswagen Type 2 and Y/n was happy to take it off their hands, fixing it up to have the perfect beach van. Once classes were done for the day Y/n was packing it up with her board, cooler, boombox, and her closest friends.
“You sure this thing isn’t gonna break down on us?”
“Don’t insult Sandy. She’s as good as new,” okay that was a stretch, the van was literally 60 years old, “and I filled her up on gas this morning so we shouldn’t find ourselves on the side of the road.”
“Thanks for the confidence, Y/n. Much appreciated.”
It wasn’t uncommon for people to recognize her on campus. Having generated a public image in surfing—which many of her peers were also involved in—meant she was bound to hear, “Hey, you’re Y/n L/n?” “Oh my gosh I’ve been watching you compete since you were a junior competitor.” “Congrats on winning the Pro this year.”
There were times professors kindly asked, “Can you sign this for my kid? They’ve been into surfing lately and you’re their favorite athlete.” Taking photos with supporters happened occasionally as did giving advice to those wanting to get into surfing. It was a nice feeling for the woman to be able to inspire people and share the sport she loved.
Expanding the art of surfing to the world.
Four years of college seemed to fly by fast. Y/n was surprised she managed to pull through with a 3.6 GPA and graduate Cum Laude with everything in her life. A lot of the competitions were during the school year so Y/n had lots of work on her plate—thankfully some instructors were reasonable and allowed her to get an advance on the material. But she completed her degree with immense relief, aiming to get a career in sports going either by becoming a trainer or manager following her retirement from surfing.
“Y/n, It’s so great to see you again this year at the World Surf League World Championship. You recently graduated from the University of Hawai’i, you’re set to compete in today’s finals to defend your title—how many would this be for you? Number seven?”
Y/n chuckled with the reporter, brushing away a stray piece of hair. “Lucky number seven, yes. I’m so happy and grateful to be competing today—excited to hit the water and try to catch the best waves possible. Regardless of the outcome today I’m just really happy to be here again. I always look forward to this time of year—being able to compete and after working so hard in school this last semester, it’s definitely a relief to not have to worry about finishing a paper last minute once this comp ends.”
“There’s been recent talk of surfing possibly becoming an Olympic sport after much demand following the London Games this year. What are your thoughts? Do you think it’ll be featured in Rio and if so are you going to try and make the team?”
Since becoming a professional sport in 1959 following the first West Coast Surfing Championship in Huntington Beach, California, surfing had yet to reach the greatest sporting stage. The Olympic Games. Held every four years where thousands of athletes from around the globe come together to compete for the chance at gold. Duke Kahanamoku, the father of modern surfing and three-time Olympic freestyle swimming champion having won gold at the 1912 and 1920 Games respectively, first advocated the sport to be in the Olympics back in 1920. Had it not been for him, surfing may not have become as popular in the world as it was.
When it came to the Olympics, Y/n loved sitting by the tv to watch Team USA. Witnessing historic moments and record breaking finishes she was in awe of every athlete who came across the screen. Swimming, diving, track, gymnastics, soccer. So many sports events in a single fortnight. She hoped surfing would become an official sport in the Games. For she too had dreams of an Olympic gold around her neck.
Pausing for a moment, Y/n smiled at the thought of her becoming an Olympic Champion, “I think a lot of us can agree that we’d like to see surfing become part of the Olympic family. It’s one of the oldest sports and has its own professional circuit for decades now—I mean we’ve got people here today from Japan, Italy, El Salvador and Australia. Why not include it? And you can definitely expect me to be training the moment it is.”
It would be four years before Y/n could make do with that promise. On August 3, 2016, two days prior to the opening ceremonies of the Games of the XXXI Olympiad, the IOC announced surfing would finally be an Olympic sport.
“Exciting news for the surfing world,” the headline appeared on the screen of ESPN’s afternoon coverage, “the International Olympic Committee has just confirmed the sport will be introduced for the first time in its history at the Tokyo Olympics taking place in 2020–marking 100 years since surfing legend Duke Kahanamoku first started advocating for it to be featured. Professional surfing isn’t new to international competition having debuted at Huntington Beach, California in 1959. Since then there’s been several meets featuring surfers from all over the world—the most recent being the 2016 Rip Curl Pro where ten-time World Surf League champion Y/n L/n claimed the title once again for the fifth time since her senior international debut in 2007. L/n is just one of many professional surfers who’ve advocated for surfing to be in the Olympics over the years and expressed interest in competing for a chance at gold. With the confirmation by the IOC this morning, I’d say we’ll be seeing her at the trials in four years.”
The morning after the announcement Y/n headed to the beach to find her father propping her board into the sound. “So four years, huh?” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the wind breeze past them.
“Seems like a long way, but it’ll be around the corner before we know it.”
“We better get started then.”
Morning, afternoon, evening. Every day Y/n was on the water catching waves left and right. Perfecting maneuvers, getting air in her aerials. When taking breaks she’d go on runs and to the gym. She still participated in yearly competitions and surfed with her friends, but her training habits became more intense as she prepped for Tokyo. When she wasn’t sleeping, eating, or competing she was on the water.
By 2019 Y/n had accumulated the most titles won by a female surfer with ten ISA World Surfing Games—formerly the World Surfing Championships, ten Rip Curl Pro trophies, five QuickSilver pro Gold Coast, five-time triple crown winner, and the 2016 champion of The Eddie Aikua Big Wave International. Winning The Eddie and becoming the first woman in history to do so after the event returned from a seven-year hiatus had Y/n on the front page of several sports magazines around the world. It was a huge accomplishment. Pushing Y/n as the favorite to win gold in Tokyo.
Towards the later end of the year, October in fact, Y/n found herself on the sunny beaches of San Diego, California. August to November were the best months to surf in the area, being it was late summer going into fall where the heat wasn’t excruciating. Still one had to wear a wetsuit to even touch the water.
Y/n was in town to visit an old friend from college and to help the Pacific Beach Surf Club with their beach cleanups and participate in a charity competition. Having traveled in San Diego a few times she was no stranger to the club and welcomed with open arms. Volunteering in their cleanups was the least she could do to prepare the beach for the charity event.
When they finished they all changed out of their clothes into wetsuits, wasting no time to hit the waves. “Hey!” Her friend yelled from where she was treading water, tone teasing, “be sure to leave some for the rest of us, yeah?” Y/n threw her head back in laughter.
“I make no promises!”
Anytime Y/n surfed out of training or competition she felt so free. No pressure to be perfect. No shouting from her father. No commentary from the sportscasters or questions from reporters. Only her, her board, and the beautiful sea.
She cheered on her friend and the people in their cleanup group when they caught waves. Complimenting them whenever they did a cool trick. In return they whistled and hollered for her. They soon developed an audience from the shore. Children and adults alike stop to watch them in awe. Instantly drawn to Y/n who glided effortlessly, guiding her board into a tube ride.
Unbeknownst to the surfer, a group of navy pilots had stopped their game of dogfight football to observe the show.
Jake whistled, “Damn she’s good.” Mickey agreed.
“I don’t think I’ve seen someone surf like that. She’s a natural.”
“Probably has been doing it for years,” Bradley commented, fixing his aviators. Natasha and Bob hummed in agreement.
“I think I’m in love,” Javy breathed out, simply in awe of what he was witnessing. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen showcasing talent on a board he could only dream of possessing.
He wondered what her laugh sounded like, seeing her head tilt back at something her friend said. Even from the distance her smile was breathtaking. Hair pulled back into a tight bun, body adored in a wetsuit to combat the cool water. A cheeky smirk thrown at her peers when she started paddling toward a forming wave. Standing on the board like a pro and making all kinds of turns and tricks Javy knew he’d wipe out the second he attempted them. Speaking of wiping out, she hadn’t done it once.
Jake nudging him from the side snapped him out of his daydream, “Go talk to her.” At the nod of his head, Javy realized she was running across the sand, stopping when she got to an area of coolers, towels, and backpacks.
“No!” He hissed, eyes reading, ‘are you crazy?’
“Why not? Just go up and start complimenting her. Ask her how long she’s been surfing. That’ll start a conversation.”
Javy scoffed, “Easy for you to say, Mr. Ken Barbie Doll who doesn’t need a confidence boost when talking to women.” Jake went to rebuttals but the sound of Reuben coughing stopped him.
“Uh guys….” He lifted a finger, their gazes following to find a family of four approaching the young woman. They couldn’t hear what was being said, but seeing her take a notepad from the little girl before scribbling in what appeared to be an autograph followed by the father snapping a photo with his phone, it was enough to conclude she was someone.
“Are…is she signing autographs?” Javy wondered aloud. He watched her sign the little boy's boogie board, posing for a photo with him before kneeling down to be on both the children’s level and smile for the camera. Hell even the parents wanted a photo, one of her friends coming over to hold the phone while they positioned themselves on either side. Then finally the whole family had a group one, saying their goodbyes and thank you’s to the woman who waved as they left.
“So she’s kinda famous,” Bradley said the obvious, everyone in a daze. Probably trying to figure out who the woman was, as none had recognized her as an actress or singer.
While they were busy investigating, Y/n unzipped her wetsuit leaving her bikini underneath and pulled on shorts with a graphic t-shirt overtop. “What are you guys doing after this?”
“We’re gonna grab some drinks at The Hard Deck. You down?”
“The Hard Deck?” She repeated with a tilt of the head. Never had she heard of the place.
“It’s that bar over there,” Y/n turned to the direction her friend was nodding at, eyes landing on a building not far from where they stood. “Great vibes, but I must warn ya it’s always filled with Navy fellas.” Y/n perked up slightly. Having lived on O’ahu all her life she was familiar with Navy personnel. After all, Pearl Harbor was located just on the coast of the island.
“Really?”
“Yeah, Miramar is not too far from here. It’s where the pilots train so expect to see some in flight suits.”
At around 6 the group packed it up and headed for the bar. Upon entry Y/n saw exactly what her friend had warned. The place was buzzing. Servicemen and women on every corner, music blasting from the jukebox. They approached the bar top to order a round of beers before settling over by the high top tables, splitting the group up since there were about eight of them.
“Check it out, Machado,” Payback clapped his friend’s back, making him turn to where his attention was. Javy’s eyes widened upon seeing the surfer.
“Did they just get here?”
“Looked like it. You should talk to her—especially since this is the second sighting in mere hours.” The pilot rolled his eyes.
“I don’t wanna come off as a creep, Fitch. What am I supposed to say ‘Hey, sorry if this is weird but I saw you surfing earlier—can I buy you a drink?’ She might throw me to the sharks.”
Natasha shook her head, “men.” A moment later Penny arrived with a tray of beers, placing them down on the seat beside Bob where the guys were shooting pool, “delivery for my favorite dagger squad.”
Thanks were sent her way followed by Jake asking, “Say Pen, you know those guys?” The bartender glanced over her shoulder to see who he was referring to, nodding with a smile.
“Oh that’s some members of the Pacific Beach Surf Club. They were cleaning up the beach earlier for tomorrow's charity competition. Expect the place to be packed if you drop by, it’s always a madhouse. This year they’ve got some of the best surfers participating.”
“Do you know if she’s one of them,” Javy tried to act cool when pointing out the woman.
Upon Penny’s smirk, the answer was clear, “Unless my eyes are deceiving me, I believe that’s ten-time world surfing champion Y/n L/n.”
“Ten?!” Mickey repeated, “Holy shit.” Around him the others were matching his expression. Javy immediately grabbed his phone to type in the name. Sure enough the image of the woman seated at the table appeared on his screen. Clicking on the Wikipedia page he started to read aloud for the group the opening paragraph.
“Y/n M/n L/n, born y/b/m yb/d, 1990 is an American professional surfer from Kapolei, O’ahu, Hawaii and a ten-time World Surf League Women’s World champion, the most titles won by any female surfer to date. L/n made her debut at the World Surf League Junior Championships at age 14 in 2004 in her native O’ahu, winning three consecutive times before turning to senior international competition where she’s won a total of forty world titles—including becoming a five-time triple crown winner. As of 2016, L/n is the defending champion and first women to win the Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational. She is set to compete at the first ever U.S Olympic Trials in hopes of making the Tokyo Olympic Team where surfing will make its debut at the Olympics.”
“Well I’ll be damned,” Jake peered over Javy’s shoulder, watching him scroll down to view Y/n’s career statistics. Mickey appeared on the opposite side, whistling under his breath. Natasha took out her own phone to search herself, Bradley, Bob, and Payback all glancing over to see.
“She’s literally called the greatest surfer of this generation,” Bradley pointed out. “Talk about intimidating.”
“Now you gotta buy her a drink, Machado,” Payback concluded, igniting another glare from his friend. “Say you pulled an Olympian.”
“I’ll take it to her,” Penny offered, and before Javy could stop her the woman was back behind the bar. They watched her take a Corona from the cooler, add a lime and proceed to the table the athlete was at. “From the gentlemen by the pool tables,” Penny smiled at Y/n, nodding to the group, “the one the blonde is pointing at.” Turning her head, Y/n saw the guy in question pushing his friend’s hand down, a reddish hue on his cheeks when they made eye contact followed by a wave.
‘Well hello there,’ she thought, smiling at the handsome man. He was in a pair of basketball shorts and t-shirt reading NAVY in bold letters. The group he was with all scattered to make it look like they weren’t eavesdropping when Y/n approached, Corona in hand, “Hi.”
“Hello,” even his voice was attractive. Everything about him was. From his clear smooth skin to his dazzling smile. Toned arms and legs.
“Thanks for the beer.”
“Anytime,” he tipped the one in his hand, Y/n clicking hers against it. “Sorry if this is weird at all. I saw you surfing earlier and was trying to muster up the courage to come talk to you….but couldn’t find the words to say.”
Y/n smirked, gesturing to an empty pool table, “how about a game? Maybe it’ll help loosen your nerves.” Moving to a cue Y/n sees his grin widen, “I’m Y/n by the way.”
“I’m Javy, but you can call me Coyote.”
“Coyote?” She repeats with a chuckle, “That’s an interesting nickname.”
“Callsign actually,” he politely corrects before explaining he was a naval aviator. Grabbing his own cue while she sets up the rack, he added, “Wasn’t my doing.”
“Then how’d you get it?”
“Um…” he made a face, as though he was embarrassed to say. “I’ll tell you if you win this match.” A sound between a scoff and a laugh escaped her.
“So that’s how it’s gonna be.” Javy raises his hands in defense, laughing with her. “And if you win?”
His own smirk appears, “You give me your phone number…maybe even let me take you out.” Biting back a grin and fighting the warm feeling in her chest, Y/n removes the rack leaving the pool balls neatly centered.
“Challenge accepted, Coyote.”
It was safe to say both came out as winners that night. Though Y/n won the game and got the scoop on Javy’s callsign origin, he walked away with her number and plans to have dinner the following night after her charity event. Javy made the promise to come out and watch her surf, excited to see her in action. Hearing Y/n talk about the sport and her accomplishments was even cooler in person than reading it off the internet. From her amateur days to becoming a full blown professional. Winning countless championship titles, being the first woman to win The Eddie and her dream to win gold at the Olympics.
Javy was smitten.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” She smiled when they reached her van at the end of the night. They talked for hours to the point they lost track of time. It was 11 o’clock and she had to be up at five.
“You said it starts at noon?” At her nod Javy continued, “I’ll be there. And I look forward to our dinner plans after.” Y/n felt the heat rise, hoping it wasn’t displaying on her face.
“Me too. Thank you for a fun night, Javy,” feeling bold, Y/n leans to place a kiss on his cheek. The action leaves him stunned, smile growing bigger as she pulls away. “See you on the beach.”
Now Javy had loved the beach before meeting Y/n. But his love for it and the ocean only grew the moment he watched her ride the waves. Cheering from the sand as she dropped down and glided the tide with ease. It made him want to stay there forever.
He understood quickly why she was regarded as the greatest female surfer of all time. Yeah it was a charity competition and not a world championship, but Y/n treated the waves no differently. She was a beast. Total control of her board, little to no mistakes.
Their dinner date was filled with laughter, flirty sarcasm, stories so outrageous one would think they were bluffing. Javy spoke of his time at Top Gun and his friendship with Jake. Y/n told him about her college days. Both engaged in conversations about dreams and aspirations. Yeah they had their dream careers, but one can always dream bigger. Dream about friendship, dream about love.
Dream about the future.
When the night came to an end, Y/n laid her head on the pillow with a smile on her face, “I think this might be paradise.”
23 July 2021–The Hard Deck, San Diego California.
“It’s almost time for USA!” Javy hushes everyone, grabbing the remote to increase the volume. The place was packed mostly with the squad's friends, colleagues, the Pacific Beach Surf Club, and college students from UC San Diego. Togethery they were gathered to watch the opening ceremonies of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics.
The Tokyo Olympics.
Finally after a whole year of waiting the Games were finally being held. A global pandemic sure would be the only thing to stop the most iconic two-week sporting event in the world.
And Javy’s girlfriend, 12x World champion Y/n L/n, was there to be part of surfing's Olympic debut. Gold on her mind.
The two had been long distance the majority of their relationship, but FaceTimed nearly every day with promises to visit as soon as restrictions were lifted. Y/n traveled to San Diego in the winter of 2020 to mark the couple’s one year anniversary. Then Javy flew to Hawaii in the spring, spending two weeks in Kapolei where most time was spent surfing and late night drive on the beach.
“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he sang at the top of his lungs, windows rolled down .
“Than on my surfboard out at sea,” Y/n followed, smile wide on her face with her hair blowing in the wind.
“Lingering in the ocean blue.”
“And if I had one wish come true.”
Together they sang, “I’d surf ‘til the sun sets beyond the horizon!”
Y/n tilted her head back, “‘Āwikiwiki, mai lohilohi. Lawe mai i ko papa he’e nalu.”
Belting out together once again, their voices echoed in the night, “Flying by on the Hawaiian roller coaster ride!!”
“‘Āwikiwiki, mai lohilohi. Lawe mai i ko papa he’e nalu.”
“Pi’i nā nalu lā lahalaha. ‘O ka Moana hānupanupa.”
“Lalala i ka lā hanahana. Me ke kai hoene i ka pu’e one.”
“Heel, hele mai kākou ē.”
“Hawaiian roller coaster ride!”
During the Olympic surf qualifying event in Huntington Beach the whole squad was in attendance to cheer Y/n on. Javy embraced her in tears, lifting her onto his shoulders to the hollars and whistles of their friends and family.
Y/n was officially an Olympian.
Now usually during the parade of nations of the opening ceremonies Greece is the first to enter the arena followed by the countries in alphabetical order with the hosting nation entering last. Having waited a whole year due to the Covid-19 pandemic, the world was excited to get the Games started. But to everyone’s surprise the order of the parade of nations would proceed differently than prior Olympics.
Greece still entered first, followed by the Refugee Olympic Team and then the nations paraded in based on where they fell on the Gojūon system. Japan would be the last country to march in, but for the first time ever the hosting countries of the next two Olympics entered before the hosting country. And what were those two countries?
France and The United States of America.
Paris was set to host the upcoming 2024 Games just three years away, and then in 2028 Los Angeles gets the honor once again of bringing the world together. The last time LA hosted was in 1984, and the last time America itself hosted the Summer Games was Atlanta 1996.
“Okay everyone shut up!!” The tv was turned to the loudest volume possible, all in attendance falling to hush whispers.
“Everything changes,” Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson’s voice echoes through the speakers, his silhouette figure walking into an empty arena. “The longest wait of their lives is over.” The beat of the music gets louder, building in pressure. “And the combination of their blood, sweat, and tears,” his face is revealed under the light, “finally arrives.”
The beat drops in time with the image of fireworks rocketing from the Rio arena, an announcer’s voice stating, “this is the moment that you all have been waiting for.”
“It’s not easy to bring the entire whole planet together,” the Rock states, “and it certainly wasn’t tonight. But, here we are.”
“Finally!”
“It’s finally here.”
“The Olympics are finally here,” Gold Medalist Simone Biles grins.
“Yeah, I’m hyped up.”
“Can’t wait to show the world what I got.”
The image shows Dwayne once again, “Tonight we are all so lucky to witness the hardest workers in the room.” Then it changes to athletes training, from gymnast Sam Mikulak to sprinter Noah Lyles. “The athletes who are a brilliant tapestry of talent, commitment, and drive.”
“Drive, drive, drive!”
“Now what was once considered unthinkable just one year ago has become a glorious reality. We come together united to celebrate the Olympians who exemplify the very best in all of us.”
🎼 legs are shaking, hands aching, 🎼
Simone Biles appears, determination in her gaze as she races down the vault runway. “It’s Simone’s party and everyone else is just a guest,” Tim Daggett’s voice cuts in during the clip of Simone at the World Championships, followed by the Rock.
“She is absolutely the greatest gymnast the world has ever seen. But even if there’s nothing left to prove, there’s a chance to launch herself even higher into the rarest air of immortality.”
As Simone lands her vault, it transitions into Katie Ledecky entering the pool. “The most dominant swimmer in the world.” “It’s just ridiculous!”
“She swims like a machine created to wreak havoc and decimate with impunity.”
“Katie Ledecky smashes her own world record!”
“But in reality she’s about the nicest person you’ll ever meet,” the rock’s face returns, bearing his own smile like Katie. “And kindness matters. Always.” Track star Noah Lyles running takes over. “He makes running as fast as you can look the way it’s supposed to look.”
“NOAH LYLES, WORLD CHAMPION!”
Dwayne grins, “Damn fun.” The next athlete featured was the one they were all waiting for.
“On dry land she’s impressive, in the water she’s simply lethal,” the Hard Deck erupted in cheers, Y/n flashing onto the screens showcasing her drop in during the WSL World Tour.
“That’s my baby!!!” Her name appeared in big bold letters like the others, ‘Y/n L/n. Kapolei, O’ahu, HI.’
“Monstruos wave for Y/n L/n, but she handles it like a pro.” The clip shows her pointing to the sky in victory following her win. “She’s here to prove why surfing should’ve been in the Olympics ages ago,” the Rock looks proud, “and look cool as hell while doing so.”
The tone of the video shifts, bringing forth the raw and emotional reality of athletes who’ve given every inch of their soul to be on the world’s greatest sporting stage. “They’re kids from Minneapolis—.”
“Kenny Harrison!” A girl crosses the finish line in joy, soon embraced by her father. “Raleigh.”
Fellow surfer and native Hawaiian Carissa Moore is shown, “And Honolulu.” A baby in a stroller being pushed by her mother. “They’re working moms with unfinished business.” Allison Felix with her daughter.
“This is what makes all the sacrifice worth it.”
Simone Manuel becoming the first Black woman to win an individual Olympic gold at the 2016 Rio Games. “The barrier breakers who’ve proven the power of the platform.”
“I can’t begin to tell you what this means for the sport of swimming in the United States.”
“There’s Jordan—!” A montage of Gold medal winning teams flashed. The Fab Five. The women’s soccer and basketball teams. The women’s rowing team. The Fierce and Final Five of U.S Gymnastics. “And the teams that have dominated for generations with no intention of changing the script for this one.”
“Get the gold medals ready. Again!”
“These awe-inspiring multi-talented athletes are taking on the world.”
🎼 ‘You bring me back to life.’ 🎼
Between the music and feel good montage, some of the viewers in the hard deck were having trouble holding back tears. Chills racking up their body. It made them want to get out and start training to be a world class athlete.
“They really are the best of us. They’re bringing us together.”
“That’s a new world record!”
“And they’re about to give you, at long last, the greatest two-week spectacle the world has ever seen.” Close ups of Team USA’s Olympians rolled, Javy wiping his eyes when Y/n appeared. “It is their Games. It is our Games.”
Absolute chills.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am so grateful to have the honor of presenting to you….Team USA.” At the last word the Rock disappears, cutting to Team USA entering the Tokyo dome—the American flag flying high, “USA! USA! USA!” Though they couldn’t hear the cheers from the Hard Deck across the ocean, that didn’t stop the building from erupting in whistles. It was only the opening ceremonies so one could imagine what it would be like come the 26th and 27th.
When Y/n hits the waves for a chance at Olympic gold.
Tsurigasaki Beach, located 40 miles from Tokyo, was the place where it would all happen. The damp sand beneath Y/n’s toes felt comforting. Although the overcast skies made her worried. Tropical Storm Nepartak caused the waves to be more aggressive and unpredictable. It was going to be an interesting day of competition.
After qualifying with a big score in her heat the previous day, Y/n was set to compete in the quarterfinals that morning. From there the semi-final contestants would be decided, going straight into the event before finals that afternoon. Three events in one day if she made it all the way to the end.
“I’m going to be so sore tonight.”
Shortboard in hand, Y/n raced to the water the second the horn sounded. Instant shivers along her arms from the cold feeling. Cloudy skies prevented the sun from heating the water, “goodness gracious.”
Quarterfinals breezed by. Y/n started off strong with a score of 7 for her first wave, going on to claim two more, another 7 and an 8 bringing her total score to a 15. Putting her, American Carissa Moore, South African Bianca Buitendag and Japan’s Amuro Tsuzuki into the semifinals.
“Stellar performance by Y/n L/n of the United States. She had a bit of trouble on her second wave—which we can’t blame her for; many competitors have been having difficulty today due to the impact of tropical storm Nepartak on the tide. L/n’s score of 15 puts her at the top for the quarterfinals, but that can all change when we return for the semifinals in the next hour. It looks like she’ll be up against Japan’s Amuro Tsuzuki for one of two spots in the gold medal match.”
“That’s how you do it,” Javy clapped at the tv, the footage replaying Y/n’s competition highlights. “Semi-finals here we go.”
During the semis the pressure was on. Y/n could feel it all over, anxiety coursing when the horn sounded. Thirty minutes on the clock, ticking down to eliminate either her or Amuro. Usually her luck turns out for the better whenever she gets the first wave, however, Amuro beats her to it. Catching the next one Y/n focuses on pulling speed and managing her flow into the maneuvers, receiving a score of 6.2 on her first wave, 8.3 on her second and 7 on her third. Unfortunately a wipe out early on her fourth and final wave results in a score of 3.
“Is that gonna be enough?” Jake cringes, noticing the look of unease on his friend's visage. Y/n appeared shaken from the wipe out. Very rare has she ever messed up greatly in competition. But there’s always a first for everything.
Javy had a paper in front of him, writing down Y/n’s scores and the ones of her competitors to predict what she needed and if she was qualified to the final round.
“Her six and seven will be dropped, putting her at 11.30,” he taps the pen on the bar surface, “if Amuro doesn’t get another wave in the next,” Javy checks the time, “two minutes then it should put Y/n through to the finals.”
Amuro did in fact catch another wave before the horn sounded, ending their round in the semis, but it wasn’t enough. Her total score accumulated a 7.43, eliminating her from the final competition.
“One more,” her father/coach took a hold of her shoulders. “You’re almost there, Y/n.” Almost to the gold. “Rest up, you got one hour.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. Picking up a water bottle and plotting on the sand Y/n downed the liquid and munched on an apple. To pass time she scrolled through Tik Tok, sent a selfie to Javy—who sent one of him and the squad back—and called her family in O’ahu to calm her nerves. She had already talked with Javy that morning before quarterfinals, promising to FaceTime him after the finals.
It was nerve racking. Regardless of how the event went, Y/n was guaranteed the silver medal. USA would take home both Gold and Silver in surfing’s debut being fellow American Carissa Moore beat out South Africa’s Bianca Buitendag in their round.
One competition left.
Bidding good luck to Carissa, Y/n took her position and waited for the horn. Thirty minutes on the clock. Thirty minutes to a gold medal.
“Here we go,” Payback announced in time with Y/n paddling out to sea. Javy rubbed his hands together, eyes glued to the screen.
“And the two Americans are off in the first ever gold medal match for surfing. Carissa Moore, the 2019 WSL World Champion, and twelve-time title holder Y/n L/n head-to-head to declare who will become the woman to win surfing’s first gold medal. Both have exemplified great performances today—it’s not easy doing a quarterfinals, semi-finals, and finals all in one day, but these pros make it look easy.”
“There she goes!” Nat shouted, earning cheers at the bar when Y/n caught the first wave of the competition.
“Kicking off with the first wave, in just two minutes of the clock starting is Y/n L/n. Dropping in beautifully, easing into the wave…..Straight into an roundhouse cutback, which she does flawlessly. Bottom turn, I think she’s gonna try and do a off-the-lip right here….and she nails it! I think she’s hoping to elongate this wave as far out as she can. Carving now and finishing with a 360 into an Ariel. Wow! That was a great start by Y/n.”
“Yeah that’s what I’m talking about!” Javy shouted over the cheers, grin plastered wide only to brighten more when the score came back a 8.7. “HELL YEAH! LETS GO!”
Carissa’s wave was impressive. She managed to hold it down with complicated moves to earn a 8.5. Both women scored huge on the first waves followed by 7s across the board. Nearing the final five minutes Carissa managed to get a 6.43.
“She can’t get anything lower than a 6.23,” Javy felt sweat pool on his forehead, suddenly feeling hot in the bar despite it being the ass crack of dawn.
“She’s got this,” Nat patted his back.
The clock was ticking down. Two minutes to go and Y/n had yet to find a wave. Placing her palm onto the surface, she took a deep breath, “please, give me a sign.” Not a moment later she felt something in her say to look right.
There, brimming about fifteen feet away, was the perfect wave.
Wasting no time Y/n’s chest planted to her board, paddling as fast as possible. Her heart was pounding, salt water splashing. Positioning herself in front of the forming body, Y/n silently called out to whoever was listening for strength.
“Wow she’s going for that huge current out on the west side. Moore is too far back—it’s gonna be L/n on the final wave of the women’s competition. With one minute to go she’s dropping in—.”
Y/n allowed the adrenaline to consume her, giving it total control as she dropped in. The highest wave of the competition yet, Y/n knew she’d be having a tube ride with how it formed. Picking up speed, she knelt slightly, paralleling her chest with the wall of the wave, the water curving around her. Blocking the world from her view.
It was just her and the sea. No one else.
Closing her eyes briefly, she pictured she was back on O’ahu in the water she grew up in. Sun beating down and gentle hum of seagulls.
Like she was in paradise.
The image left as quick as it came. Y/n snapping out of her daydream to exit the tube ride to the cheers of her father on the beach, curing back into the wave to finish on a high note by performing her signature Ariel. Smiling the whole way down just as the horn signified the end of the competition.
“And there you have it folks. The women’s surfing finals has officially come to a close—Y/n L/n ending her Olympic Games with a remarkable last wave. Absolute perfection with speed, precision, and control. That’s gonna be the highest score for her I feel.”
“C’mon, c’mon,” Javy bit his nail, knee bouncing from the anxiety of not knowing. Carissa’s total score was displayed first, 14.93. Y/n’s lowest was a seven, highest 8.7. Her final wave was amazing, but judging was unpredictable. Anything could happen.
Then in the blink of an eye the hard deck exploded.
“I don’t believe it! Tens across the board for Y/n L/n bringing her total to 17.00!! Y/n L/n has won the gold for the United States—Carissa Moore with the silver. USA goes one and two in women’s surfing at its Olympic debut!!! Take it all in, we are witnessing history,” the screen shows Y/n and Carissa embracing, leaning over their boards to congratulate the other, “Team USA has much to celebrate, the world of surfing has their champion. Y/n L/n adds gold to her name—surfing’s first Olympic Champion here in Tokyo!!”
Y/n laughed the entire time she paddled to shore, raising to her feet to race towards her father. She was soaking wet but he didn’t care. “You did it!” He yelled, kissing her head with tears in his eyes. “You’re an Olympic champion! I’m so so proud of you!” Soon they were greeted by Carissa and the rest of Team USA’s surfing members. The two women were lifted onto shoulders, American flags draped over their backs with photographers surrounding them.
It was a moving image. Two women from Honolulu and Kapolei, Hawaii won surfing’s first Olympic silver and gold medal. If only Duke Kahanamoku could be there to witness.
Back at the hard deck celebratory drinks were served and toasts raised to Y/n. Javy barely contained his emotion, eyes watering the moment her name came back the winner. Natasha and Jake embraced him in a hug, the guys whistling and hollering. Penny rang the bell.
“She won! Oh my God my baby is a gold medalist!! This is the best day ever!!”
The entire podium ceremony Y/n was on cloud nine. Placing the gold medal around her neck, she took a moment to stare at it. Disbelief and awe in her eyes. ‘Wow, I actually did it.’
When the national anthem came to an end Y/n did the traditional bite of the medal for the cameras. Posing with Carissa and Bianca afterwards, Y/n was ushered to interviews.
“Hello, Y/n,” the reporter beamed, “congratulations are in store—what an amazing moment for you. You’re the first gold medalist in women’s surfing at the Olympics. How does it feel?”
“It’s absolutely a dream come true. For years the surfing community has wished for this—to be in the Olympics and for me to be part of its debut, winning the gold medal…I-I can’t put into words how much this means to me. I’m so grateful and honored.”
“You’ve been around for a while now,” the reporter mentioned, “2004 was the first time we saw you and you’ve gone on to have a stellar surfing career. Winning the WSL World Surfing Games twelve times now—competing when it was still called the WSL World Championships and became the first woman to win The Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational in 2016. This is your first Olympic Games, surfing will be at the Paris Games in three years. Can we expect to hopefully see you there?”
“I wouldn't rule it out,” Y/n winked with a giggle. “Paris is in three years and I would love to return to the Olympics again. After dreaming for so long I don’t want to let it go so easily. Of course anything can happen between now and 2024 but with my family, friends, and boyfriend cheering me on with their endless support…” she gave a cheeky shrug, “I’m gonna work hard and get back in the water once I’m home.”
“We’ll be rooting for you, Y/n. I don’t think the surfing world is ready to say goodbye to you. Anything else you’d like to say before you have to go. Anyone you’d like to say thanks to?”
Instantly the Olympian brightened, eyes locking on the camera. “I wanna give a shoutout to my hometown of Kapolei on O’ahu—the place where this journey started on the beautiful beaches and waters of my home. To my family and friends, thank you for your love, support, guidance and always cheering me on even when the going gets tough. My dad, who’s been my coach since I was seven is with me here to share this win, I couldn’t have done this without him. To my San Diego family watching, you better save me a beer at the Hard Deck when I come visit next week,” she winks, knowing the squad would get a kick out of it. Then Y/n softens, “and finally to my boyfriend, Javy, who’s with our friends in Fightertown. I love you so much, thank you for being my rock during quarantine and pushing me to do my best. I can’t wait to see you and this is for you.” Holding up the medal, Y/n blows a kiss to the screen before saying goodbye to the reporter.
Upon landing in San Diego two nights later, Y/n was greeted by a celebration from her friends. Members of the Pacific Beach Surf Club were there, as were the dagger squad. Javy met her in the middle the second she exited the terminal, lifting her in his arms. “Finally your back!! I’m so fucking proud of you!” Setting her down, he kept his arms around her and the two jumped up and down like school children in a heap of laughter.
Finally they calmed, sharing a sweet kiss. “How was your flight,” he walked when they pulled away, moving to grab her carryon back.
“Long,” she moaned, leaning into his side. “But worth it.” Soon she was surrounded by their friends. Congratulations all around, Mickey asking to see the medal, Jake saying all her drinks are on him, Nat telling her how much she missed having another girl around. “I missed you guys,” Y/n pouted, “man I wish you all could’ve been there.”
“Don’t worry, Y/n/n,” Bradley patted her shoulder, “We’ll be there in Paris.”
“That’s quite a bit away, Roo.”
“Yeah,” he shrugged, “but there’s no harm in planning now.”
“Let’s let the woman rest before kicking her training mode into gear,” Javy teased, earning a playful nudge from his girlfriend. Together they got her bags and headed straight for The Hard Deck. They drinked, they danced. Javy and Y/n had a rematch of their pool game.
“This feels a bit like deja vu,” she smirked, chalking up her cue. Javy winked, puckering his lips in an air kiss causing her to laugh.
For a week Y/n stayed in San Diego before flying home to Hawaii with Javy. Again she was greeted at the airport by her family and friends she’d grown up with. The local news station was present, students from schools wanting to join in on the celebration. It felt amazing to be home after two weeks away.
They settled in at her Honolulu home, finding the perfect place to display her medal and ordered take out since neither was in the mood to cook after a 6 ½ hour flight. Once finished with dinner Y/n gave her boyfriend a knowing look, “Wanna watch the sunset?”
She didn’t mean sitting on her porch or even the sand. No, she meant taking the boards and laying out on the sea as the calm surface of the water kept them afloat.
Javy agreed, rushing to get his swim trunks on while she put on a swimsuit. Grabbing their boards they locked up the house and jogged the quarter of a mile to the beach, paddling out to get a front row seat of the descending sun. Colors of bright orange and pink painted the sky. A beautiful contrast to the deep blues of the ocean.
“Is this heaven?” He whispered, finding her eyes staring back at him from where her cheek pressed to the board. All the love conveying in the simple look. And with her gentle words, Javy felt all the worry and unease he ever experienced lift from his soul.
“More like paradise.”
……………….
TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris
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lmkwritings · 28 days
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Hi, um... I was wondering if your requests were open. So, I have a slight idea, so in season three when Nezha chases after Wukong to retrieve the map to the Samahi(?) fire. Kaiju/size shifter reader comes after them both because they are Nezha's husband, concerned for Nezha and angry at Wukong because they were supposed to be leaving for their honeymoon. Sorry if it isn't well thought out of too difficult, I thought it would be cute. Have a good day or night
“Samadhi”, and i just found a solid idea for this one.
this Motherfu-
you growl low in your throat, your large maw opening up wide to crunch and tear through glaciers of ice.
wukong had to need the map. he just HAD to take it and subsequently your husbands attention.
an ear piercing roar tears through the skies and the heavens themselves, the clouds and waters parting for the kaiju that marched on towards the samadhi fires mountain.
your kaiju form was that of a snapping turtle- a large spiked tail, a humongous spiked shell lay on your back. four searing red eyes glowered out at the horizon.
and your maw- the natural shape of a turtles mouth, but giants whisps and licks of Red and Black seeped out, lashing and curling at the open air.
your legs sunk into the sea up to your knees, clawed hands pulled up, eyes narrowed.
you were going to flay that simian.
teeth bared, it only took you a few strides to reach the mainland, and subsequently, megaopolis.
it was frozen- you should probably ask why, but your more concerned with unfreezing it. to get your husband back.
and his attention.
your eyes landed on the massive mech standing at the edge of the city, just into the desert, twin swords drawn and a blazing black flame encasing it like a second skin.
you recognized that warmth- those flames. you helped create that blessing- it was but a fragment of your own.
fully baring your teeth, a boil built in your chest, burning hot and acidic. that feeling crawled through your throat, letting molten stars drip from your maw and stain the sands below with the fury of the universe, living and beautiful and Furious.
a low whine built, the heat growing, sand becoming glass and skies growing black with smoke, eyes glowing, bones and spines pulsing with the heat, a ball of the very concept of Hate built in the back of your throat, growing in size and shape.
it took only a second, but you watched the flames grow green, acid in color and full of Pride and Passion- and knew those flames were of your heart no more, knew they had become the soul of someone more than your hatred.
a viscous grin tore across your face, and you took a step forward, planting your feet, dipping down and angled your head just right.
a massive monkey like mecha formed from the light of the heavens, it was frantic in nature as it scooped up a handful of tiny creatures- mortals, most likely. unimportant.
a deep breath, and that whine burst into a deep and guttural Roar.
the beam of bloodlust and molten stars and blooming galaxies tore through the air, the mecha throwing itself to the side as the frozen beast was struck through its core, the very concept of the damned thing incinerated, the metal reduced to lakes of molten ore, the heat from the blast having turned the surrounding desert into massive towers and glaciers of glass.
the metal behemoth was gone, reduced to nothing but the memory of it.
the mecha’s head was turned toward what once was, and then whipped towards you-
oh.
you lit up.
“Xiaotian!” you called, your projection lighting up as it stood tall, and then started making its way across the thawing city. carefully picking your way across the melting streets, you beam as your feet sink into the desert sands.
ambling your way over, you angle your head down to make eye contact.
“where’s your mentor?”
“…i really don’t want to answer that.” he squeaked.
your frown was very telling in the way the protege flinched.
“Liánhuā!” you lit up again, projection dropping, and your small body falling for not even a second before you were held tight in your husbands arms.
“Liánhuā, what are you doing here? i thought i asked you to remain in heaven!” he cried, gripping you close, regardless of how you nuzzled into him.
smiling you let everything wash over you, keeping yourself pressed close to your husband, arms looped around his neck and hands clasped.
“is she alright?-“
you would’ve thrown yourself at wukong if it wasn’t for nezha’s grip on you tightening.
“wukong, you disrupted our honeymoon with this. i feel it best if you distance yourself from her.” nezha’s voice had a little growl to it, his body warming with his frustration. you nuzzled further into his neck.
while your anger with wukong was.. immense, you sighed softly, happy to have your husband close to you again.
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pardi-real · 3 months
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Honeymoon Knight / Chapter 2 - Memories of Velis
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[Water City Velis]
~ Later ~
In front of us, there's a white sandy beach and... a crystal-clear sea stretching out. The pleasant sea breeze and the sound of waves seemed to welcome us.
Muu: "Wow! The sea really is cool and feels great!"
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Lucas: "Fufu, Muu, it looks like you're having a blast."
> "He seems to have a lot of fun at the beach"
Watching Muu play in the sea from the shade of the trees are me and the butlers from the third floor.
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Lamli: "Buu looks like he's having a good time... I wanna go into the sea too..."
Nac: "Lamli, you've said that just a while ago. Give it up already.  Even though we're taking the turn to rest in Velis... in case of an emergency, we must join immediately."
Lamli: "I know that without you telling me! You're such a pain...  Besides… we need to be on standby for emergencies, but... in this heat...  Wearing these clothes while waiting is... It's just weird!"
Lucas: "I agree with Lamli on that... It's an order from above, so we can't do much about it.  It's only June, so the temperature isn't that high, but... Velis does have strong sunlight."
> "Lamli, are you okay?"
Lamli: "Thanks for worrying! My lord!  I'm fine for now since I'm using a parasol!"
Trudge… trudge… trudge… *marching on sand*
Muu: "Ehehe…  Everyone, I'm back!"
> "Welcome back, Muu."
Muu: “...Sneeze!”
Lucas: "Oops... Was the water a bit cold?"
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Nac: "It would be a problem if you caught a cold. Muu, please use this towel.  After drying yourself, let's brush your fur with this brush. And this outfit that Flure made... Let's put it on elegantly.”
Muu: “Yes, Mr. Nac!"
Rustle… rustle…
Muu: "Phew~...! Thank you very much!"
Nac: "Yes! You're done changing."
> "You're well-prepared, Nac"
Nac: "Fufu, as a butler, I'm always prepared. I equip myself for diverse situations to ensure a prompt response. This level of readiness is simply part of my role as your butler."
Lamli: "I get what he's saying, but... Nac's way of saying it is annoying."
Nac: "Did you say something, Lamli?"
Lucas: "Alright, both of you. Stop, stop. We have a whole day to spend freely with the lord... Is it okay to spoil it with such a trivial argument?"
Lamli: "Ugh... well..."
Lucas: "We can freely act in Velis only for today. Tomorrow, we'll depart for a different city and have to return to escorting nobles. So, I think we should cherish this time. How about you two?"
Nac: "That's right. It's as Mr. Lucas said. My lord, excuse our rudeness."
Lamli: "I'm sorry, my lord.”
> “It's fine” > “Don't mind it”
Lamli: "My lord! Today, we're going to make sure you have a great time! Let's create the best memories together!"
> “Okay” > "Looking forward to it"
Lucas: "Well then, my lord. Let's stroll through the streets of Velis."
And so, we left the sea behind and headed towards the city.
[Water City Velis, East Area]
After walking for a while, we found ourselves in the eastern area of Velis. Velis is divided into four areas, and the east is known for having many restaurants and places to eat.
Muu: "We've been to this place before, right, my lord?"
> "Yes, indeed"
Lucas: "Come to think of it... The last time we came to Velis was last summer. We were assigned to guard the festival... The three of us on the third floor were in charge of this eastern area."
Nac: "It brings back memories. It's almost a year since that request."
Lamli: "Seriously... time flies.  Especially since the lord arrived… The days seem to pass by incredibly quickly."
Nac: "Indeed. I feel the same way. The time spent with the lord is intense, and full of happiness, …. Fufu… probably because there's always a sense of new excitement and discovery with them."
> "Do you think so?"
Nac: "Yes... I'm sure the other butlers share this sentiment as well."
Lucas: "Fufu... Yeah, that's right."
> "Thank you. I feel the same way too"
Lamli: "But really! Thank you for giving us such happy and fulfilling days!"
Muu: "Fufufu ♪ The relationship between us butlers and the lord is really good! I suddenly wondered, though... Is the relationship between other nobles and their butlers like this too?"
Lucas: "Hmm, I doubt it. Our relationship with the lord is quite a unique case."
> (That's true...) > “I see”
Lucas: "During last year's June Bride, we even took wedding photos together.  Well, I was the one who suggested it, though."
> “Yeah that happened” > "Normally, butlers don't take wedding photos with their lord, right?"
Lamli: "That photo session… was so much fun. I'd like to do it again~"
Nac: "Fufu... looking back... We've done various things with the lord. For example, here in Velis... We made an original tropical juice for the lord."
Muu: "I remember! It was a large glass of juice, right?"
Nac: "Yes. It was prepared with the concept of 'Something suitable for the lord who has a heart as vast as the sea'."
> "How nostalgic"
Lamli: "And then...! We also gazed at the stars with the lord!  Lying on the beach at night… We spent the best night looking up at the Velis night sky!"
Lucas: “We took turns lying down between the three of us… We lay next to the lord, looking up at the stars.  I actually planned to offer a lap pillow to the lord… but the lord was nervous and refused.”
> "Of course I would be nervous hearing such an offer…!"
Muu: "A lap pillow for the lord...  That's not something you'd see in the relationships between other lords and butlers…"
Nac: "Not zero, but I'd say it's almost none."
Lamli: "Stop talking about what other butlers do, Buu! We are who we are. Don't worry about unnecessary things; we just need to focus on making our lord happy!"
Muu: "It looks like Mr. Lamli and the others are also having fun, though..."
Lamli: “E-errr..."
Nac: "Muu makes sharp remarks from time to time, doesn't he?"
Lucas: “Fufu... But you see, Muu... We're not forcing the lord to do any of it. Surely, a kind and open-minded lord like them… wants to bring us joy… By creating enjoyable moments that just skirt the boundaries of our roles as butlers… I believe that's what they're aiming for.  Right, my lord?
> (Answering this question feels a bit embarrassing...)
I quietly nodded, feeling a bit nervous.
Muu: "I see! Fufufu. The relationship between the lord and the butlers is really good!  It's so wonderful!"
Lucas: "Giving lap pillows for the lord..."
Nac: "Hm? Did you say something, Mr. Lucas?"
Lucas: "Uh-uh, it's nothing. Now then, my lord. While reminiscing about these nostalgic memories… Shall we walk a bit more through the city?"
> “Yes” > "Let's do that"
And so… we continued to explore the city of Velis while sharing memories.
note: I forgot it's called Venice in English. Could've written it as Velice. Idk if there is any official English spelling for the places, so please let me know if there is.
And just to clarify, the "Uh-uh" is not a stutter. It's like the negative version of "Uh-huh".
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dawneternal · 1 month
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Starfall Guest
✷ Azriel x OC
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✷ Summary: Something unusual drops from the sky on Starfall. A messenger with a threat and a promise.
I wrote this for @starfallweek for the prompt 'Character A is a fallen star. Character B finds them.'
I'm not sure if I like it or not, but hopefully you do lol I know a tiny bit about Crescent City but I've never read it so none of this is supposed to be related to that/canon compliant:)
Calytrix is pronounced cal-uh-trix (meaning: star-flower)
✷ Listen to City of Starlight by Taylor Ash
✷ Word Count: 4.9k
✷ Warnings: None
✷ Ao3 Link
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This year would be the first Starfall celebration at the River House. The view at the House of Wind was still objectively better, but it would be easier to wrangle Nyx here with all of the childproof wards built in. It would be a house warming of sorts, Rhys said. 
They had spared no expense, setting up the back lawn with tables, chairs, blankets, trays of foods and star-themed decorations, bottles and bottles of champagne. All of it was beautiful. All of it was perfect. Rhys and Feyre leaned into each other, holding little Nyx between them as they gazed up at the night sky and waited for the stars to appear. 
Still, Azriel could not help the ache in his chest. The chasm of loneliness, opened wide by the sight of all the couples curled up together. He sat alone, ignoring the dark clouds gathering in his mind. He’d let it catch up to him later when he was by himself. He'd let it consume him for a while and then pull himself together before morning.
The crowd around him let out a collective gasp as the first star fell, hurtling towards the earth and falling into the sea with a strange sizzling sound. It was different to see it up close and not from the view of the balconies. Closer, you could see a ring of stardust coat the surface of the water where the thing had landed. The churning of the waves spread the shimmering color further over the water, illuminated by the moon. The whole sea was gilded. Luxurious.
Azriel settled into himself, glass of champagne in hand, and watched the streaks of metallic light paint the sky. An odd sensation joined the longing in his chest, something akin to anticipation. 
Like the hiss of a matchstick before the flame sparks to life. The glow of his siphons before a blast of power. 
His shadows began to dart back and forth, as if they felt it too. He looked around for anything amiss, but everything was as usual. Party goers laughing and whispering and gasping, dodging the bits of star that fell on the lawn. 
Azriel turned his gaze to the sky, squinting as he searched for something out of the ordinary. There was something unordinary there. One star, bigger and brighter than the rest, falling far slower than any star ever had. He watched as it dropped, blinking and flailing, surrounded by an aura of changing celestial color. He looked over his shoulder at Rhys and saw the High Lord watching the same object with pursed lips, clutching an awe-filled Nyx in his arms. This was something new. 
When the odd light was in range, his shadows darted out to meet it. Azriel set his glass on a tray in the grass, preparing to stand. 
A woman. A star. The shadows whispered in his ear. He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. But the whole lot of them rushed away again as if they hoped to catch her. He wondered if a person could survive that kind of fall. Then he broke into a run, weaving through blankets and bodies toward the sea. 
“Azriel!” Rhys’s voice called to him, but he didn’t stop. 
The grass gave way to sand then rock, the waves lapping gently on the shore and leaving glowing stardust behind. As he neared the edge of the water, he could see how limp the being was, falling with no resistance. They were too far over the water for him to reach, but he pulled off his boots anyways and tugged off his shirt in case he needed to go in. His shadows swirled underneath the plummeting body, but she fell through them like they were nothing. Her body hit the water with a sickening splash, a layer of glimmering color left behind just like the other stars. 
Azriel paced over the rocky shore, waiting for a head to appear above the water, the echo of that splash replaying over and over as his heart beat against his ribs. 
Then he heard the familiar snap of winnowing, and that shimmering being was kneeling on the beach a few feet away, hands braced before her as she choked and heaved. She looked like a piece of the night sky itself. 
Her skin was deep blue, covered in swirls of gold and silver. Elaborately woven braids of deep violet draped over her shoulders, dripping ocean water over her naked form.
“Are you alright?” Azriel crouched beside her, pebbles digging into his bare feet. Closer, he realized that the outline of her body was transient, moving in a slow pattern like smoke floating through the air. She was not covered in stardust, but made of it. The ends of her braids flowed into nothingness, dissipating into the night as particles of violet. 
She looked up as he spoke, bright eyes meeting his. They could have housed an entire galaxy in their depth. Indigo, purple, gold, and silver swirled like pools of water, flecked with stars. The shadowsinger found himself a little awestruck. His shadows enveloped her, looking for any more information to give their master, but they would only tell him the same thing as before. A woman, a star.
“I need to speak to the High Lord of the Night Court,” She spoke, her voice deep and raspy. It sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. 
“Why?” His brow furrowed. She had nothing on her, no weapons, no magical items, not even clothes. But if she could winnow, she had other powers.
“Is this the Night Court?” She asked instead of answering, pushing off the ground and attempting to stand. Her legs were wobbly and she stumbled forward onto her knees once more. Azriel grabbed his shirt from the grass and held it out to her. She tried again and managed to stand this time, though her limbs trembled.
“What is that?” She asked him, staring at the cloth in his hand. 
“You’re…naked?” Azriel swallowed, keeping his eyes on her and not the glittering curves of her body. The woman looked down and pursed her lips, as if mildly annoyed by this realization. She took it from him and slipped it over her head. She was much smaller than him, the t-shirt falling to her knees. 
“I need to speak to the High Lord of the Night Court,” She said again, rising to her full height.
Rhys, it’s a woman. Azriel spoke into his mind, remembering his brother existed. 
Enamored was not strong enough a word for what he was feeling. She exuded night in the same way that Rhys did, such cunning grace and soft beauty. All with a threat underneath. Rhys appeared with a snap, expression smoothed over into the mask of the High Lord. He studied the being before him with his hands in his pockets. 
“High Lord,” The woman’s eyes widened and she bowed, braids falling in a curtain around her face. Her voice was like personified darkness.
Azriel and Rhys shared a look, wondering how she possibly recognized him. 
“Please,” Rhysand said, and she straightened. “Are you hurt from the fall?” 
“No,” She shook her head, taking a step toward him. Azriel tensed, hands curling into fists. “Please, High Lord, I have something important to tell you.”
“I’d rather you introduce yourself first,” Rhysand drawled, still studying her, “Forgive me, but I am finding this meeting a bit strange. You don’t seem to be from this…area.” 
The woman nodded her head, and the brothers watched as her form changed. Her skin became solid, a rich shade of brown, free of stardust. Her hair remained violet but now appeared tangible, no longer flowing like a waterfall. In this form her ears were pointed like Rhys’s. She looked like another fae now, save for the galaxy in her eyes. 
“My name is Calytrix. I come from a celestial realm. My father is King Izar and a few weeks ago he made a deal that threatens your court.” 
Rhysand and Azriel shared another look. 
Then Rhysand reached for Calytrix’s arm and they were winnowing. Calytrix squealed, reaching toward the High Lord as they fell through the air. Rhys's wings flared out and he caught her in his arms, slowing his descent toward the balcony. Azriel was close behind, and he could see Cassian and Feyre in this distance flying toward them.
Calytrix shoved away from Rhys when they landed, stumbling once more to her knees and drawing in deep breaths. 
“Apologies,” Rhys said, shoving his hands into his pockets again, striding past her into the House.
Azriel grasped her arm and helped her up, ignoring the sparks under his skin as they connected. He followed the High Lord and led her into the dining room. Rhysand sat at the head of the table and gestured for her to sit. She took a spot beside him, looking a little more wary as she looked around the grand room. 
The glass doors opened again and Feyre nodded as she entered, saying nothing as she sat across from the strange woman. Azriel and Cassian remained standing, the former beside Rhsyand and latter beside the High Lady. 
“Princess Calytrix, this is my wife, Feyre,” Rhys gestured to his stony-faced mate, “Now please, continue your story.” 
Calytrix’s gaze swept over each figure. She had become surrounded before it could even register, and she assumed that they had done this on purpose. The four of them stared at her, unrelenting. 
“As I said,” Calytrix swallowed, “I came here to warn you. My father made a deal with a death god that threatens your court.” 
“What deal?” Rhysand demanded. 
He conjured a pitcher of water and poured a glass for each of them. Calytrix didn’t take it, keeping her eyes on the raven-haired man beside her. He seemed as though he wanted to trust her, but he was holding back. She’d anticipated this, and she hoped her idea would be enough for him to trust her. 
“My father offered soldiers in exchange for territory in this realm whenever Koschei has gained control. Night Court territory.”
A jaw in Rhysand’s muscle twitched, the only reaction he’d allow to show. Azriel felt his stomach drop at the mention of Koschei. His blood ran cold.
“How has Koschei managed to establish contact with other realms?” He asked, voice firm. 
“I do not know that, my Lord,” Calytrix shook her head, “Only that my father speaks to him through an enchanted object that he keeps hidden.” 
“And why do you come here, princess? What do you gain from exposing your father’s secrets?” He countered, sitting back with his arms crossed. 
She looked so small in her chair, draped in Azriel’s shirt. The shadowsinger remembered her body hitting the water and a thread of sympathy wound through his chest. But he kept his expression neutral and said nothing.
“I believe Koschei is using my father,” She said, averting her gaze to the marble table and the crystal glass before her, “A King in our realm tried to occupy land here before, but our types of magic are incompatible and it did not end well. I believe my father has sacrificed a great number of soldiers for no gain. He will destroy our kingdom and your court.” 
She shifted in her seat, skin flushing as she said the next words, “And I have studied the Night Court extensively. I consider myself…a fan. I do not wish to see it destroyed.” 
“How are you here?” Feyre asked, her voice soft, “If the magic is incompatible?” 
“The gates are open on this night,” She said, “As the stars travel through the realms. And I come as a visitor. I won’t try to claim anything as my own.” 
“What are they?” Rhsyand blurted, his eyes gleaming. The conflict was momentarily forgotten as the answer to his centuries old question came within reach. “The stars?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for you, my Lord,” Calytrix smiled at his eagerness, “They are a mystery to us as well.” 
Then she stood, ignoring the warriors tensing as she took a step toward Rhysand. 
“I understand my words may be hard to believe,” She began, drawing herself up again to her full height, “I have read about the customs of the Night Court and I am prepared to offer a bargain in exchange for your trust. I believe this ordeal with the death god will harm my people just as much as yours. I have much to gain from your trust.” 
“What bargain?” Rhysand asked, tilting his head to the side. His violet eyes locked onto hers, some familiar thread of magic seeming to sing between them. Like calling to like.
“If anything I have told you proves to be untrue, I will owe you my firstborn son.” 
Cassian coughed and Azriel’s eyes widened. He searched Calytrix’s face, but she was utterly serious. 
“Princess,” Rhysand sputtered, “I hardly have use for your firstborn son.” 
“Well I don’t have one yet,” Calytrix said, shifting her weight as she noted the amused half-smiles, “It would be a promise. I understand that these bargains are very serious.” 
“I have a better idea,” Rhysand said, biting back a laugh, “If you allow me to, I can use my power to look into your mind and read your intentions.”
Calytrix went still. Her eyes shifted ever so slightly toward the shadowsinger, wondering if the High Lord would be able to see her admiration for his warrior. For the beautiful figure that had been stuck in her mind since he’d found her on the beach. Far more beautiful than she believed the people in this realm could be. 
No one saw that glimpse, except for Rhysand, of course. 
“I’ll make you a bargain,” Rhysand said, his expression softening. She was young, likely no older than Feyre or her sisters. She was brave to come here. “If you show me the truth, I will not intrude on any private thoughts.” 
Calytrix nodded, lips pursed. She went stiff  as she felt his onyx claws scrape against her mind, eyes shutting tight. Azriel winced, swallowing the impulse to comfort her. No matter his intentions, it never felt good to have Rhys search your mind. 
The High Lord sorted through her thoughts, evidently hitting a sore spot when Calytrix let out a choked whimper. Rhysand pulled away, his face grim. It was not often he enjoyed that task. 
“She tells the truth,” He announced. Calytrix heaved a sigh and slumped in her chair. 
“Your father doesn’t know you’re here,” Rhysand said carefully, brow furrowing. 
“No,” She chewed her lip. 
“How can we keep you safe, then?” 
“I…was hoping to stay for tonight,” Calytrix said sheepishly, staring down at her hands in her lap, “And then I’ll go back and tell him I was kidnapped. He’d never guess I would come here.”
“Don’t you need to go back while the gates are open?” Feyre asked. 
“Not if you have an Astraeus Ruby,” Calytrix shrunk into herself. Rhysand stared at her for a moment.
“Indeed I do,” His lips twitched up into a smile, “You have done your research well.”
“I don’t like it,” Azriel spoke for the first time since the beach. All heads snapped towards him, reminding him that he was still barefoot and shirtless. Feyre's eyes flicked over him with curiosity. He kept his expression firm, unmoving. 
“There’s too many variables. What if the King guesses where you’ve gone? What if he sends someone after you? What if Koschei knows you’re here? I don’t think you should wait.” 
Rhysand thought he saw Calytrix’s shoulders fall, just slightly. As if the shadowsinger’s words disappointed her. 
“I can’t go back tonight,” She swallowed hard, “I snuck out before the party began, but the gate is in the grand room and they would all see my return. The party likely won’t even end until tomorrow midday. I tried to put a spell on myself so Koschei could not track me, but I do not mind if you would like to check it over.” 
“Will they notice you’re not at the party?” Rhys asked. Calytrix pursed her lips again and said nothing. They took that as a yes. 
The room fell into silence, each lost in thought. Azriel was kicking himself for making his attachment known. He should not care so much for this star girl, so shy and yet so brave. But he was drawn to her, like a planet in her orbit. 
“We’ll figure something out in the morning,” Rhysand said softly, “For now, Feyre will show you to a guest room and find you some clothes. You’re welcome to rejoin our party if you wish, or rest if you need it. And tomorrow,” 
Rhys paused and flashed a wry smile at Azriel, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, “Azriel will give you a tour of Velaris.” 
Azriel opened his mouth to protest, but Feyre was already whisking Calytrix away. The princess looked back at him with eyes alight and eager hope written clearly across her face.
So, he found himself nodding, offering her a small smile. And elbowing Cassian in the ribs as his brother giggled.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Azriel waited on the balcony, bouncing on his toes in an attempt to rid his body of nervous energy. He had been up early to meet with Rhysand, Cassian, and Feyre. The best they had come up with was sending the princess home with a way to contact them. If she needed some sort of evidence to aid her alibi, they would provide it. 
Rhysand had checked over her spell and found it to be solid. No one would be able to track her. And since her father had no inkling of her plan, they should have a long while before he thought of searching other realms. Thus, she would stay for today and leave tonight at nightfall. Her tour of Velaris was the only gift Rhysand could give her for her bravery.
It made Azriel nervous, sending her back all alone with no protection, even if she insisted that she could take care of herself. Her skill with magic had admittedly impressed them all. But he was still worried and that made him wonder why he cared so much. He couldn't explain it.
The glass doors opened and Calytrix appeared, shaking the shadowsinger from his spiraling thoughts. She wore a Night Court outfit, flowy lilac pants and a cropped shirt with sheer sleeves. The colors suited her well, complimenting her hair and bringing out the warm tones of her skin. She had arranged her braids in a bun on top of her head, held in place with a piece of lilac silk. And Feyre must have gifted her earrings, sparkling amethyst tear drops. 
Azriel found himself staring, gaze drifting over the curves of her body, her generous hips and exposed stomach. 
“How do I look?” She flashed him a shy smile and turned in a little circle, ending with a flourish.
“Lovely,” Azriel breathed, his voice cracking, “You're a vision.”
He scolded himself internally one more time and cleared his throat. 
“I thought we'd start with a snack and a coffee, how does that sound?” 
Her eyes lit up, the stars and swirls glowing with excitement. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Azriel was a fool. He should have known from the first time she had locked eyes with him that he would never quite recover. The hold that she had on him left something behind that he would never be able to get rid of. 
He was falling harder with every moment they spent together. Every tiny thing she revealed about herself knit into a story he was desperate to hear more of. Her eagerness to learn more about the night court, excitement over new things he showed her, her kindness to everyone she encountered. She seemed to trust him completely, blindly following him through the city.
He’d almost laughed when she pulled out a notebook and began taking notes in the cafe, writing down the name of the coffee and pastries he’d ordered. But he’d swallowed it down, not wanting her to think he was making fun of her. 
She was as curious about his shadows as she was the city. Every time they ventured close, she held out a hand. Some of them shied away and some of them wound around her fingers. She told him that the feel of them was similar to running a hand through a nebula.
Next, Azriel took her to the aviary, drinking in her delighted laughter as she chased and studied the colorful birds. 
“You don’t have an aviary in your city?” He asked, when they’d sat down for a break. Side by side under a willow tree filled with singing birds and fluttering wings. It was one of his favorite places in Velaris.
“Maybe,” She said, her gaze following the little creatures, “My father is very strict and protective. I don’t get out much.”
“I suppose that explains your eagerness to see the city,” He said, watching her as she watched the birds. 
“How could I not be eager?” She smiled, “When the secret of the city was revealed a few years ago, the whole world had questions. Now I've seen it, and I might even be able to write up a paper and get it published.” 
“You’re a writer, then?” Azriel asked. It made sense now, the grandiosity with which she described things. How desperately and diligently she wrote down every detail.
“Under an alias,” She met his eyes and he swooned all over again, “I spend a lot of time in our library since it’s one of the few places my father considers safe for me.” 
“Do you know much about the Day Court?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. She looked back down at her notebook, suddenly shy. 
His whole body itched with the desire to fly her to the Day Court right then. He would plant himself by her side as she skimmed every single book in the court and he would be sustained by her joy alone.
“Not much,” She confessed, “I must admit that my fascination with the Night Court has become a bit of an obsession over the past couple years.” 
“They have hundreds of libraries there,” Azriel said, eyes twinkling. Her face lit up, as predicted. “You could spend an eternity there, I’d imagine.”
“With a friend to keep me cnompany, I suppose I could,” She dared to look at him again, letting her gaze linger. Her eyes flicked down to his lips for a split second. 
Before he could register, she was standing, tucking her notebook back into her bag. It did not escape him the way her fingers trembled as she did so. 
“Where next, tour guide?” 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Their tour definitely stretched a bit longer than what Rhysand had in mind, but Azriel could not bring himself to give her up. Calytrix did not seem eager to end their tour, either. At first the shadowsinger was certain it was only due to her research, but then she had worked up the courage to touch him. 
She’d grasped his wrist and let out an excited sound when she’d laid eyes on the collector's section of his favorite book shop. Azriel swore his soul left his body. But then she did it again, brushing arms with him as they walked together. When he took her to the Sidra so she could dip her feet in the water, she grasped his hands for balance and didn’t let go for a long time. 
Azriel felt like he was glowing. Like basking in her presence had woven his entire being with threads of her stardust. He would search the whole of Prythian for every Astraeus Ruby if it meant he had the chance to see her again. The looming goodbye tasted bitter, growing heavier as the sun reached toward the horizon. 
“Have you had a good visit, princess?” He asked softly as they sat back on the balcony at the House of Wind. 
They sat side by side again, legs dangling over the edge, almost close enough for their shoulders to connect. Only the anticipation of that touch between them. 
“Are you kidding me?” She grinned, leaning her temple against the railing as she looked at him, “I’ve toured the entire city, met the High Lord and Lady, and I made a real Night Court bargain.” 
“That wasn’t a real bargain,” Azriel’s lips twitched up into a smile, “He was being nice. If it had been a real one, you’d have a tattoo.” 
Her eyes widened, flashing with something wild and determined.
“Make me a bargain,” She breathed, “I want a tattoo.” 
“Is that a good idea?” Azriel’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Won’t your father see it?” 
“Only when I’m in my fae form,” She said, grin growing with excitement, “Which only happens on special occasions. I’ll be so careful.” 
“Okay,” Azriel chuckled, “What kind of deal can I offer you?” 
Then she was quiet for a moment, staring at him. Deep in thought as the galaxies in her eyes whirled. Her smile faded and her breath quickened, and Azriel felt his own chest flutter in response.
“I want you to kiss me,” She whispered, eyes searching his, “If you kiss me, I’ll promise to come back next Starfall.” 
Azriel’s heart leapt in his throat. This was probably a bad idea. Rhysand would never approve of it. The kiss, the tattoo, his lovesick stupor after only one day of knowing her. But he heard himself answer anyways,
“Yes.” 
She leaned toward him, grasping handfuls of his shirt as his own hands reached to hold her face. They fit together so neatly, so comfortably. Calytrix leaned ever closer, tucking herself into his hold, and brought her lips to his. Her skin was so soft under his fingers, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones as he kissed her. 
The bitterness grew to an ache, and then to a sharp pain erupting with sparks. A lump rose in Azriel’s throat as she tilted her head to kiss him deeper, lips brushing over his with such sweet reverence. 
He had to give her up, send her back to the skies. This wonderful thing between them would cease. She made a sound against his mouth and he pulled back, frowning at the sadness written in her expression.
“What’s wrong?” He whispered, not letting go yet. She didn’t let go either, running her knuckles along his collarbone. 
“I don’t want to go,” She croaked. “For so many reasons.”
Her eyes dropped from his face, pulling his shirt down farther to reveal the shooting star now inked on his chest. She released one hand and pulled down her own collar to see the matching tattoo. 
“At least you have something to remember me by,” He smiled softly. 
She shifted closer to rest her head on his shoulder, relishing the warmth of his body. They stayed like that until footsteps in the distance drove them apart. The High Lord appeared between the glass doors.
“It’s time to go,” Rhysand said softly, Astraeus Ruby in hand, “Feyre sends her regrets that she can’t see you off, but our son is throwing an especially spirited tantrum at the moment.”
“That’s alright,” Calytrix smiled as she stood, “But please, thank her for her hospitality.” 
“Of course,” Rhysand handed her the gem, a blood red crystal that looked particularly delicate. Flecks of glowing silver danced inside it.
Calytrix pulled the scarf from her hair and shifted forms again, umber skin replaced by swirling cobalt dust. As she had said, the tattoo was never to be seen on her celestial form. 
She said nothing more to Azriel, only held out the slip of purple silk for him to take. He grasped it with gentle fingers, rubbing his scarred thumb over the soft fabric. 
“Please do not hesitate to tell us if you need anything,” Rhysand bowed his head, “We are grateful for your help and we will contact you as soon as we have decided our next move.”
“Thank you, High Lord,” She said, voice trembling. 
She turned back once more to the shadowsinger and held his gaze as she placed the ruby on the ground. She raised her foot and crushed it under her shoe. Instantly, blue light burst from the shards and reached toward the sky in a wide beam. 
In the last second before the light carried her into the night, her eyes widened, lips parting, as she stared at Azriel.  A hand reached out of the beam but it did not reach him before the magic pulled her away.
Then both the light and the shards disappeared and Calytrix was gone. 
Rhysand stared for a moment at the spot where she’d been, reminded of a similar moment so long ago. He glanced at the shadowsinger, cautiously, but Azriel was oblivious. He stared up at the stars, holding the lilac silk in his hands. 
So, Rhysand said nothing, heart aching for this brother.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Azriel woke in the middle of the night to a snap, a flash of light visible from behind his closed eyes. He shot upright in bed, shadows darting out to assess the threat. 
They found nothing, save for the folded note on his nightstand. The paper was deep blue, translucent and cool like the misty touch of his shadows. He opened it and found written in gold ink, 
See you next starfall, my mate.
Your star,
Calytrix
23 notes · View notes
itjazzbicch · 5 months
Text
The Moon to The Stars
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Pairing: Pretimeskip!Franky x Reader 
Summary: Being close ever since they were learning to be shipwrights under Tom's teachings, the reader has always been one with the ocean, happy as can be when they get to have some fun with Franky, who has a great gift for them...
Warnings: Some swearing, the reader is a surfer (But that's about it!)
Word Count: 1.4k 
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Life wasn't always the best to me, but one thing that the downsides of life couldn't take away from me?
The ocean.
Just staring at the ocean made me feel as if I were in paradise. Water 7 was close to that since Tom, Iceburg, Cutty, and I made the train.
I missed Tom dearly and missed the bond I had with Iceburg and Cutty before his death, but the ocean always washed away those sad thoughts, paddling out into the ocean on my surfboard.
"Here comes a big one!" I smiled, getting ready to ride the wave down to the shore, cheering and squealing as I got some speed out of this one, drifting back to the shore to do it again.
Before I knew it, the sun was setting. I watched as I sat in the sand, water flowing over me as the last wave I caught knocked me down. But it was fine.
"Surfing again, huh? Is that all you know how to do?"
"Hey Franky," Turning to find him, things may not have been how they used to, but my bond with Franky never changed, teasing him, "Still jealous that I'm a better surfer than you?”
"Sure," He laughed, taking my surfboard out of the sand and offering, "But I know a way to make it even more fun."
"Oh, dear god," I rolled my eyes playfully at him, failing to hide my curiosity. "What crazy contraption did you build this time?"
"I don't have it with me," He wasn't kidding, but still wanted to have some fun with me, tilting down his sunglasses and smiling, "But I have something that'll work in the meantime."
"Alright, you won me over," I smiled, jumping up and running into the water, "C'mon!"
"Right behind ya!" He ran along, joining me on my board, ensuring he stood behind me.
We were out far, a huge wave was forming, and for a change, I was nervous, yelling:
"You better not kill us out here, Franky!"
"Don't be such a drama queen!" He yelled, carefully watching the wave, "Let's go!"
Together, we shifted to catch the wave, picking up speed, my eyes widening at his hand opening. I knew that he was a cyborg now, but I was nervous about what he was planning:
"Franky?!"
"Try not to fall off!" He laughed, shooting a blast from his hand that sent us flying!
I was screaming and barely able to keep on the surfboard. My adrenaline started rushing, and those screams turned into joyful ones, cheering out:
"HOLY SMOKES! THIS MIGHT TAKE US CLEAR INTO THE CITY!"
"WOOOOO! YEAHHH!"
We were having a blast, zooming to the shoreline, a bump in the wave sending us upward.
"AH CRAP!"
"I gotcha, Y/N!"
Franky caught me in midair, his back smacking the sand as I landed on top of him, the water from his blast still following us and drenching us in water.
"That was fun!" I couldn't stop laughing, grabbing his shirt and ready to pick him up, "Let's do that crazy shit again!"
"Told you so!" He laughed with me, our laughs settling as our eyes met, staring at each other as we smiled.
"Hey, Franky," I breathed in, leaning to him; his head started coming up to mine, not needing to say anything, but as our noses touched, his eyes went the other way.
I looked along with him to see Iceburg in the distance, it was closer to where one of the city streets was, but we could see him. Franky stealing the words straight out of my mouth:
"What's he doing here?"
"That's what I was gonna say," Sitting up, I noticed something Franky didn't, my eye twitching, "I have a better question, though."
"What's that?" Looking along with me, I saw it was my surfboard that was broken in half; I yelled out of playful anger:
"ARE YOU GONNA BUY ME A NEW SURFBOARD SINCE YOU'RE THE ONE WHO PULLED THAT CRAZY STUNT?!"
"I'M SORRY!" He yelled, running away as I chased him, "I ALREADY BUILT YOU ONE!"
"BUT THAT ONE WAS SPECIAL!" I yelled back, catching up and jumping on his back.
"SERIOUSLY! COOL IT, BABE!"
Freezing, I knew that he talked with some slang, but it made me feel a certain way, looking as he was staring at Iceburg in the distance:
"How about this? You sit tight here. I'll grab the board I built for ya, a snack, and some cola. Sound good to you?"
"Yeah," Hopping off his back, I went to where I placed my towel and bag, sitting and staring at Iceburg as well, "I'll wait here for you."
"I won't be long," He smiled before going off, and when he returned, the sun had set, the sky full of stars.
Lighting the lantern I brought along, my eyes were fixed on the board on his back, holding out my arms and saying quickly:
"Gimmie! Gimmie!"
"Give me a second," He huffed, handing the bag with some sandwiches and cola, placing the board down, and sitting along with me, "You like the design?"
It was almost identical to the very first one Tom gave me, my favorite colors, smooth, and it looked beautiful. I nodded as I admired it, but also cocking my eyebrow as I knew that it was no ordinary surfboard:
"I love it, but what can it do?"
Eating our sandwiches, Franky explained that he added a propeller and that it could transform into a small craft in case I hit any bad waves and got stuck in the ocean. There was no denying that I was ready to take it out to the waves.
There was something a bit more critical on my mind, though, cracking open my cola and whispering as I took a sip:
"So, you talked to Iceburg when you left?"
"Yeah," He sighed, his tone showing that they still haven't made up, wondering:
"What did he say?"
"Guess he wanted to see you," He groaned, frustrated at the thought.
"Me?" I laughed softly, showing Franky that I hadn't made up with Iceburg, whispering, "He wouldn't like what I have to say. I'm still upset about the things he said to you."
"Don't worry about me," Drinking his cola, too, I wanted to return to having fun. Talking about Iceburg was like rain on a parade; I took one more sip before jumping up with my new board:
"Alright! Let's see what this bad boy can do!"
"Be careful till you get a hang of it!" He warned as he watched, making me laugh as I ran into the ocean:
"You forget who I am, Franky?!"
There was something about this board that I could feel just from standing on it. It was easy to tell it was made carefully with tons of thought put into it. This board felt like my soulmate.
It didn't take long for a nice, big wave to come through, doing as Franky instructed before to get the propeller going, zooming through the water, laughing and smiling at the moonlight illuminating it.
Each time I made it to the shore, I went right back out to catch more waves. I could do it all night long, running over to Franky with it as he called out:
"I'm guessing that you like it?!"
"Love it!" I yelled back, placing it in the sand and hitting his signature pose, "I love it, Franky! It's SUPER! WOOO!"
I was so excited that I jumped on him, smiling more:
"Thank you!"
"You're welcome, babe," He winked, hugging me, and like before, we were stuck in a beautiful silence of solid emotions, gravitating to each other, no one here to interrupt our lips meeting this time.
For some reason, when our lips met, tears started running down my cheeks. All I could think about was how Franky was always the bright star in my world. How I almost lost him, and despite our fallout with Iceburg, our bond didn't break.
I was so happy.
Gently pushing him back to the sand, I pressed my lips hard, his massive hand rubbing my back as he felt the tears on my cheek, pulling back to look:
"Why are you crying?"
"I haven't been this happy since-" In my head, Tom, Iceburg, and Franky flashed in my mind. All of us working on the train.
He knew what I was thinking, laying me next to him, still holding me as we both looked up at the stars, "I haven't been this happy in a long time, too."
"I'm sorry for being such a crybaby," I breathed in deeply, sitting up and smiling with my happy tears, "Just know, you're my shining star, Franky."
"C'm here, babe," Pulling me back to him, he hugged me nice and snug, kissing my forehead, "If I'm the star, then you're the moon." 
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