#ricohet

[vibinsane]

I'm so tired, and I've only got myself to blame Might not make it to my thirties, dig an early grave Until then, I'll keep on smiling Tell the devil, "Go to hell", I do it for the irony, yeah ... Can't look behind me That shit's in the past, can't look behind me now Keep on riding I'll make future forth, it's writing down

[fictionkinfessions]

it's 5 am this car alarm has been going off for 2 hours and if it doesn't shut up I'm committing the missing children incident again -William Afton

=

[lucyfrostblade]

"if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake?" because it's an important step in mourning?

[rieamena]

What if.

What if Billy got abducted and held for ransom, only for the boss of the operation to freak out when they see his face

Why is the boss freaking out? Because Billy is that one guy they weren't supposed to abduct, the boss asked their underlings to take literally anyone else besides Billy

Yet there he sits, injured and tied.

Boss: The one guy! The one guy I told you to stay away from, and he's the one you bring to me?! How did you manage that?!

Underling: Well, first we beat him up-

Boss: Oh my god we're so dead. Maybe, if we take him back, Y/N won't be so-

The door flies off its hinges. It's Y/N

The guy who abducted him? Already begging for their life

Y/N: If you touch him again, I'll turn your fuckin spine into a golf club, okay? Okay. Good talk :)

Billy gets so many kisses after that, and Y/N, too

adrenaline—

the dimly lit room was suffused with tension as the boss paced back and forth, a scowl etched deep into his face. his underlings stood nervously, heads bowed, acutely aware of the gravity of their mistake.

"you idiots," the boss growled, his voice a dangerous whisper. "the one guy! the one guy i told you to stay away from, and he's the one you bring to me?! how did you manage that?! i told you to bring me the white haired one!"

one of the underlings, shuffling his feet nervously, dared to speak up. "well, first we beat him up..."

"and boss...! there are two white haired ones..." another underling mentioned, voice shaking from fear

"oh my god, we're so dead," the boss muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. "maybe, if we take him back, she won't be so-"

the heavy door flew off its hinges with a crash, interrupting the boss mid-sentence. standing in the doorway, gleaming ominously in the low light, was [name]—your presence exuded an aura of controlled fury

the underlings recoiled instinctively, their bravado evaporating in an instant. the two who had spoken earlier, began to stutter apologies, already trembling at the sight of you

"give him here." you ordered, your voice deceptively calm

the underlings scrambled to comply, hastily untying billy and practically throwing him towards you. he stumbled slightly, scuffs evident on his metal frame, but relief flooded his eyes when he saw you

"[name]…" he breathed, reaching out for you.

you caught him in a tight embrace, relief and worry mingling in your heart. "are you okay?" you asked, pulling back slightly to check him over

"i'm okay now," billy said softly, his voice tinged with gratitude. "thanks to you."

the boss, now a quivering mess in the corner, dared not move. "p-please," he stammered, "we didn't mean to-"

"you should've thought of that before," you said coldly, grabbing one of billy's guns. you aimed at the boss, the gun switching between his heart, shoulder, leg, and head. "eenie, meenie, miney, moe."

the gun ricoheted in your hand as the bullet left the chamber. your gaze flickered towards him groveling on the floor clutching his leg, before returning to billy. "let's get out of here."

billy nodded, leaning into your touch as you led him out of the room, away from the chaos. outside, in the safety of the night, you held him close, pressing gentle kisses to his metal cheek

"you scared me," you admitted softly, your heart still racing with adrenaline

"i'm sorry," billy murmured, his arms wrapping around you and his face peppering kisses to yours. "but i'm here now. and thanks to you, my starlight knight, everything's going to be okay."

the underlings are so silly i love them

billy kid taglist

@pedrosimp137 @mary-moongood @linx-nyx @lemonboy011 @eisblume77

@amaryllisenvy @megan017 @astral-spacepumpkin @corrupted-tale @inkycap

@thurstonw @plapsha @lavenderthewolf @kurakusun @miymiymiy

@sweetadonisbutbetter @cobraaah @mochiitoby @clickingchip @bardivislak

@h3r6c00k13 @cozi-cofee @apestegui-y @luvuyuuji @theitdoitnobody

@fersitaam @cathrnxxo @monkepawbz @fl1ghtl3ssdrag0n @dabislilbaby

[lord-squiggletits]

IDW Megatron and Optimus weren't friends before the war. Here's why that makes their ship dynamic more interesting.

One comment I've heard among people comparing IDW1 MegOP to other continuities of MegOP is (paraphrased) that since they weren't friends before the war, there isn't as much material to ship them with/they don't have an established dynamic/they don't have ~*history*~ that makes them be the bitter exes we all know and love them to be.

In this meta post, I'm going to contend that the IDW1 MegOP lack of friendship before the war is actually a benefit to their dynamic in this continuity, not a negative. Although they didn't get a lot of time together before the war in terms of quantity, the quality of their interactions and the weight it gave their future rivalry is due to the tragic nature of their relationship: They saw a glimpse of each other at their best in their youth, but like a tragic myth of old, circumstances conspired to keep them apart, traumatize them, and turn them into people who couldn't trust or reconcile with each other.

The IDW MegOP's first meeting is like a fated encounter, almost as if it was destined to happen. The way that one single brush can change the entire course of history.

I like to call this a "love at first sight" moment because, although they're not in love, it has this sort of storybook magical quality to it where this one single moment has a lot of weight. This one moment where they saw each other at their best and could have a positive interaction.

When I say that they met each other "at their best" here, I'm referring to Megatron's pacifistic essays and poetry that represent his pure revolutionary spirit and care for Cybertron, and Orion's trait of showing kindness and encouraging individual freedom despite his position of authority. The way that their first encounter was so brief and unassuming makes us, the readers, yearn for more. Doesn't Megatron's silent glance behind him in that final panel make you wonder what he's thinking? They only had that one brief talk at the rodion police station but it went on to ricohet the rest of their lives. Orion started thinking about the corruption of the system due to Megatron's writing. Megatron looked back at Orion with curiosity/lingering feeling after he was escorted out of the station. Even Megatron being put on Messatine was indirectly due to Orion, since Orion delivered that speech on his behalf.

It's almost like literal chemistry, where two particles bumping into each other once can cause a chain reaction of other particles bumping and bumping and bumping until suddenly those two particles are back together.

It's a sort of magical real life scenario where you meet a stranger just once but something they did or said to you makes you remember it and think about it for a long time afterwards. except in this case the MegOPs are (un?)lucky enough to meet again. And they start a war.

I also really like that Megatron and Orion/Optimus spent most of their pre-war backstory apart from each other, because I feel like it makes them stronger characters individually instead of making all of their most important moments be about each other. This is more of a comment on fandom than canon, but many romantic stories fall into a pitfall of a relationship where the two people obsessed with each other: their romance is the most important relationship they have; the entire plot revolves around whether they're happy or upset with each other, it can even make their relationship seem unhealthy and like they have no meaningful relationships outside of their romance. In terms of MOP in other continuities, I feel that putting too much emphasis on their friendship kind of cheapens the worldbuilding and political conflict. True, it's nice when the personal and political intersect in the MegOP's lives, but sometimes I feel (especially in fanon) that the "they were friends but then they disagreed and now they're not friends" concept sometimes ends up being written as if this one simple friendship conflict was the basis of a whole war.

The benefit of IDW1 MegOP is that because they spend their pre-war time apart from each other, they develop separately as people and end up transforming into someone different from their "love at first sight" moment. I like that Orion had relationships with people like Shockwave, Roller, and Zeta, and Megatron had his student/teacher relationship with Terminus and the whole arena thing happening.

Both Megatron and Orion went through traumatizing events during this time period that changed their worldviews for the worse and made them more cynical. Megatron suffered an attempted brainwashing, losing his mentor, his first killing, then being stuck in the arena. Orion went through the loss of Shockwave to a fate worse than death, then the disappearance of his best friend Roller, then worked for Zeta and began to doubt in his ideals/goodness as a leader. In that time between the MegOP's first encounter and their ensuing encounters in a military conflict, they came back as very different people than the first glimpse they got of each other.

Since they only had that ONE first glimpse they had of each other, then met again only to be disappointed by each other's fall from grace (in each others' eyes), this sets up a lot of angst. They wonder if that first glimpse of each other was really true or if it was a lie. Should they trust in those "good" versions of each other they saw so long ago? Do those people even exist? Are they or were they ever worth believing in? Does that man I saw still exist or did I just WANT to see something good in him? That man ruined my life and I hate him for fighting against me, he's a hypocrite. I thought that man was a good person, but he's betrayed the hopes I had by becoming a violent criminal warlord/working for the evil government I thought he opposed.

It sort of has the vibes of a "love at first sight" story gone wrong where their first encounter was kind (I like to imagine Megatron was touched or at least curious about Orion, a cop, telling him to keep writing and be vocal) but then they descended into their worst selves. They only had that one small glimpse of each other at their best but now they're in a scenario where they can only be enemies.

The longing and disappointment is more obvious on Orion's part about Megatron, because Orion got this shining glimpse of Megatron at his best and most passionate, only to encounter Megatron again and all those good parts have been buried to leave only his worst. Megatron's POV about OP isn't really shown, but I feel like it could be interesting to write headcanons about it. How did Megatron feel about Orion making that speech on his behalf? Getting moved to Messatine because Orion made him so public, and all the bad things that happened there?

Yes, their first encounter was brief and they didn't really have a personal relationship before the war. But that brief encounter changed the trajectory of their entire lives. When you combine that with the fact that they saw each other as their "ideal selves", it creates that valid obsession between Megatron and Optimus. It is kind of unhealthy LMAO, because they do kind of become obsessed with each other based on an incomplete view of the other as a person. But then the war happens and they keep having personal and professional encounters that would give them opportunities to meet (such as in diplomacy meetings like Tyrest's peace negotiations and other political things that come with war). And those repeated meetings would only cause them to get to know each other better. Then you get into more mythical/legend-like story dynamics where Megatron and OP have to learn how the other thinks tactically, and their tactical knowledge becomes so intimate they start understanding how the other thinks and it's very dramatic lol. The typical our-enmity-is-so-deep-it-could-be-love enemies to lovers fare.

TLDR:

Circumstances outside of their control drove them apart, made them into different people, and kept them from becoming friends. It makes IDW MegOP feel legendary or mythical, like some sort of epic Greek tragedy of two people who were always 🤏 this close to being friends. There's longing there, and tragedy, imagining what might have been if they'd only been able to talk again, or if they had somehow been able to influence each other before they went down the bad path (violence and crime for Megatron, following Zeta and becoming Prime for Orion/Optimus). But despite that, their natural chemistry perseveres, and they talk to/about each other in a way that shows they still think of each other even when apart.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

What would be a good power for a jackal miraculous? Kwami

Jackal Miraculous

The Kwami of Instigation

The ability "Aggravate" it creates a ball that will ricohet until it hits a target that is sentient and makes the person hit with it fill with intense emotion of the first person they see. Usually its rage, and the person can only focus on the target. The Jackal utilizes this as a distraction tactic or a way to coerce a target into a scenario more advantageous

The Jackal kwami is Jeerr

[starsheild]

Forbidden Magic: Risk

Forbidden Magic-Risk

It had been Jackpot’s suggestion to disguise themselves as pilgrims on a journey north to the golden spires, seeking the blessing of the Avatar of Primus, the Prime. The local priests had watched them carefully, but when Jazz had stepped up and presented them with an offering, asking for a blessing on their journey.

The golden figurine and the highgrade had been accepted, and the priest had bid them kneel to accept their blessing. “May your journey be smooth and swift, and may Primus grant that you find that which you seek.” With those glyphs he touched each of their forhealms, leaving a small golden mark .

“Yer a genius Jackpot.” Jaz murmured as they set in a circle in the open public yard of the temple, munching on the part of a solar loaf. The thick loaf wasn’t exactly tasty, but it was filling and nutritious. The mineral loaf and the cube of energon were provided by temple for any in need, and the pilgrims had been offered them after they had been blessed. The blessing marks now only earned them momentary glances and then dismissal compared to the long looks of suspicion from before.

“I’d heard talk o’ it. Never known anyone that’d done it, but ‘pparently they’re true.” Jackpot replied as he nawed on his own loaf. “Got us in.”

Ricohet grunted in agreement as he washed down the last of his own solar loaf with some energon. “So what now.”

“Well, seein’ as how I got us permission ta recharge in the courtyard this dark cycle ta save us a room.” Jazz said as he stretched out on the ground. “I say we be thankful for ours blessin’s ‘n rest ‘fore we go lookin’ fer what we seek.”

Understanding nods passed between the group as they copied Jazz’s actions, arranging themselves to spend the dark cycle.

Prowl was pulled from a restless recharge by a firm servo on his chin forcing his helm up. His optics came online to look, and he wished that he could return to that recharge, as poor as it had been. The cold optics looking into his froze him to spark. They were not empty as he first thought, but sharp and full of cunning.

“Fresh power. Excellent.” Lifespark comment, though the glyphs were uttered in almost a detached fashion as he studied Prowl. “Your kind are becoming harder to find. I will have to start looking into alternatives. Or possibly new… arrangements. But for now…” He stepped back and turned to the workbench, digits dancing over the tools now arranged on the smooth work surface.

Prowl risked tilting his helm far enough to be able to see Soaring out of the corner of his optic. His origin was restrained in her cage, and his spark constricted in his chassis. She looked so small compared the creator he remembered. She had faced everything that life had thrown at her and survived it. Conquered it. Yet the sad green optics that rose to meet his were dim, the light of life leached from them.

“That one is fading. You all do, eventually. Despite all my efforts to the contrary.” Lifesparks glyphs drew Prowl’s attention back to the mech standing before him once more. Prowl had neither heard nor sensed his approach, the realization chilling his spark even more. Even in his current state he should have noticed something. It was all he could do to keep from flinching as his chest plate was removed and tossed aside. Light from the spark lamps on the wall reflected off the razor edge of a blade, ad before Prowl could process what was happening pain exploded above his spark.

When he could focus again he found himself looking at a small vial of his own inner energon, glowing in the light. He shuddered, though if it was from pain or ths sight he wasn’t sure. His focus shifted to Lifespark, and the small cold smile of pleasure he wore. “Fresh, and very bright. You are young. You will last a long time. Not like some of the others recently.”

His expression shifted to one of contemplation and he lifted the knife, glossa flicking out to clean Prowl’s energon from the blade.”

“Excellent.”

While the temple itself was never completely still, once the darkness fell the public departed. A little to their surprise, they were not the only group of travelers that had sought refuge in the temple. Jazz was thankful though. It gave all more credence to their cover, and would provide additional coverage for their actions. Jazz watched the comings and goings of the temple inhabitants, Richochet at his side. In the deep of the dark cycle he looked to his twin, and in silent agreement they slipped from their berthpads into the shadows.

Behind them was the sounds of mecha shifting around, and Jazz knew that the other were arranging the now vacant pads to appear as though they were still occupied. While the location might be a new one, this was a familiar path, one they had trod together many times before.

“Which way?” Rico asked so softly that only another Poly, and one standing right next to another, would hear once they had slipped in the temple proper. Jazz looked around, listening, searching for any clue. For all of their careful looking and watching, the only thing they had heard or seen pertaining to the witchmecha had been what felt like a standing litany on how corrupt and evil they were.

Ricochet looked at him in the shadows, concern clearly written on his features and washing over the the bond between their sparks. Almost Jazz waivered in his belief, but something still drew him deeper. It was the same feeling in his tanks that told him that Prowl was still alive. With a firmer nod he moved further into the temple. It was easy to slip through the temple, around the priests and the temple acolytes and servants going about their functionings. These mecha had no reason to fear anything in the heart of their home.

A lack of fear that made the nervousness of one stand out. Jazz touched his twins shoulder and tipped his helm in the direction of the agitated mech. Painted as a temple servant, the small mech had a tray carefully balanced in his servos, his entire focus on this one task as he hurried through the halls. He stopped in front of an imposing set of double doors, set the tray down, knocked once, and then scurried away.

Jazz hung in the shadows, Ricochet at his side, and waited. Almost a klik later the one of the doors opened wide enough for a mech to retrieve the tray and close it again. Jazz and Rico looked at each, silently planning. They had worked together for far to long to need glyphs to the plan something like this out. The doors, for all their size, moved silently, but they had no idea what lay on the other side. This temple was old though, and many of the ancient ventliation shafts were still in place, shielded from the optic by guilded covers.

It was though one of these that the pair slipped silently, the broad shaft providing easy passes for the slender Polhexian frames. They slipped up to each grate they passed, glancing out just long enough to assess the space beyond before moving on until they reached one that was covered from the outside. They exchanged glances before Rico slipped a digit through one of the grate holes, testing the cover. It gave slightly, a noise damper.

Jazz pulled out a slender blade and nicked the cover, widening the opening enough that he could see out before passing the blade to his twin so that Ricochet could do the same where he crouched. The slight that sight before them was at the same time both sparkchilling and enraging, with Ricochet unable to completely suppresse the soft growl of his system,

Two Praxians were restrained in small cages, bound and stripped down to their protoforms. As they watched both prisoners were force fed fuel, their mouths forced open and energon poured down their throats. They resisted, Prowl with far more strength though no less determination than the other captive. Neither of the priests tending them uttered a sound as they fed and wiped down the Praxians and departed.

[isitbop]

Just wanna ramble a bit about a few headcanons I have about some of Brawl Stars. I'll probably make more parts when I feel like it so this doesn't get long.

- The only other person Mortis hates more than Dynamike is Colt. He and Colt have been rivals since day.

- After Spike had released the poison gas in 1995, Starr Park had erased most of the brawlers' memories of what had happened and replaced them with new, fake ones. So far, the only brawlers whose memories haven't been completely wiped are Spike, Sam, and Belle.

- When I say the park is huge, the park is HUGE. It's as big as a big city which is why it's able to have all these different areas among it (especially Super City, which has got to be their BIGGEST environment due to it being an entire city.)

- Rik is R-T's more humane side, not necessarily the entire robot. (This one is basically purely headcanon since the chances of Rik being any part of R-T are unfortunately slim :( )

- Chuck is still mad at Pearl to this day for burning his baton.

- Chuck and Sam are best friends! I don't know why I just thought they'd be a good duo.

- The Turbo Theater Trio and Ghost Station Trio are great partners because Chuck is grateful to the three for taking care of Gus during his mysterious disappearance and comes by often. (Buster is extremely scared of him though.)

- Shelly used to be one of the most infamous outlaws in all of the Wastelands. However, she was eventually arrested by Colt. A few days later, she was bailed out by a mysterious person... This mysterious person was none other, but Starr Park's Owner (Name Unknown). They had promised Shelly freedom if she practiced in Brawl Stars.

- Rico and Brock have a strong bond. Brock stumbled into the fight just like Colt and Rico (who then used to go be Ricohet) saved him. Brock insisted on joining him. He thought this was just like an actual video game, and he LOVED it. (Also, Brock is such an underrated character. Give him love.)

- Ricochet ended up getting into a duel with Darryl, which ultimately put him on the brink of death. Brock got him to Pam, who is an expert and building and fixing robots, and thus, Rico was born.

[themonstrousmenagerie]

Hello dear Monarch! I do have a question, an acquaintance of mine owns a weredog— Czech Vlcak breed, specifically— and I've pet-sat for him off and on. Though recently, I've seen Ricochet, the pet, slowing down. He wants to go out and hike less and less, he's been slower in his tasks, and I've been seeing more and more marks appearing on his body— likely from his owner. I'm not one for physical punishment, sensitive to loud noises such as screams, and very empathetic— I hate to see others in pain. I worry something might be going wrong with Ricohet mentally or physically, and his owner isn't keeping a good eye on him and intensely punishing him instead of looking into what's wrong.. I thought I would message you since you seem to be knowledgeable in this category of problem, being that Ri is a weredog. Any advice on what I should do?

- Len

(Literally just made up a scenario so I could ask to be put into the taglist! Hope you like this? Or at least don't mind this ask! :>)

Just a reminder that Monarch is a whumper :> They are awful and lack any empathy for other creatures

Also new show new fit, more masc this time

Taglist: @whumpsday @firapolemos05 @sodascribbles @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @crypticidentity @mothmxwhump @enigmawriteswhump @bees-among-the-okami @delicateprincepaper

[mmoosen]

rules: pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag that many people

tagged by @rosalinesurvived

My tears ricohet - Taylor Swift

Me & ur ghost - blackbear

Over - Tove Lo

Our Song - Anne Marie & Niall Horan

Still Learning - Halsey

Everytime We Touch - Cascada

Next to Me - Imagine Dragons

tagging 7: @sequinedmonkey @rhyslahey @arewordsenough @thiamsxbitch @disasterpenguin @wolfboy88 @chasing-chimeras

[mabsster]

Este soy yo intentándolo

Recuerdo que cuando atravesábamos los momentos más fuertes de la pandemia empecé a tener breves episodios de ansiedad . Unos cuantos meses atrás me habían robado el coche y todo parecía estar como un rompecabezas desarmado .

La verdad no recuerdo muy bien que era lo que escuchaba en aquellos meses . En ese entonces había salido el álbum Folklore de Taylor Swift y debo ser sincero la verdad creo que en ese momento no cuadro en mi vida porque recuerdo haberlo escuchado y no sentí la chispa que generalmente me causaban los álbumes de Tay.

Creo que este álbum llega en el momento indicado no antes no después . Ya que transcurrido el tiempo cuando supe de mi situación de salud y en los momentos más complicados por los síntomas del tumor y porque no me sentía muy feliz que digamos , intentaba pero al final ocultaba mucho mis sentimientos al respecto .

Además se acercaba el día de la cirugía , mi relación de pareja no iba de lo mejor , al parecer era como una especio de zombie en el trabajo porque ahora que lo pienso no sé ni cómo fue que saqué todos los retos que implicó el trabajo en aquel entonces. Con todo esto quiero decir que eran tiempos difíciles, creo que han sido los más difíciles que he tenido que pasar hasta ahora.

De un momento a otro empecé a escuchar una de las pocas canciones a las que le había prestado atención del álbum “This is me trying” la había escuchado algunos meses atrás y me identificaba , era como un desahogo escucharla .

Entonces un día decidí escuchar el álbum completo nuevamente ya que mi amigo David me había hablado bastante de él y decidí darle una nueva oportunidad a las canciones .

Recuerdo escucharlo en la noche y al otro día se había convertido en una pieza bastante cálida para mis oídos y mi sentir . De alguna forma sentí que mi dolor y mis pérdidas se entrelazaban de manera perfecta .

Empecé a notar canciones como August y My tears ricohet ambas obras maestras. Durante esos días comencé a reproducirlas más de lo que jamás hubiera pensado . August me hacía sentir un nudo en la garganta y las lágrimas terminaban por salir con los versos de my tears …

De pronto escuchaba Cárdigan , The one , Secen o Invisible Strings y me sentía en contacto con todos mis sentimientos . Definitivamente ahora creo que es uno de mis álbumes favoritos y uno de mis favoritos de Taylor .

Cada una de las canciones me dio la paz que necesitaba para amainar un poco las tormentas que cargaba en mi mente y corazón . Básicamente me sentía roto , sobre todo cuando un mes después de la cirugía mi novio decidió terminar la relación . Creo que lo describiría como la cereza del pastel .

Había perdido la vista del ojo izquierdo y aún había cosas inciertas referentes a mi vida futura (aun la hay) y de repente me sentí solo combatiendo todo esto . Pero ahí estaba August haciendo sentir alivianado y conmovido . Además había una canción del álbum más reciente , llamado Midnighs que estaba soñando mucho en esos meses que me hacía recordar cuanto brillo había en mi, no es necesario que les diga cómo se llama la canción porque seguramente lo han adivinado.

Hoy son otros días y aún sigo escuchando Folklore , quizá no con la misma intensidad que en aquellos días pero ha quedado grabado en mi memoria lo importante que fue en su momento.

[vibinsane]

RICOHET, MISFIRED, BUT THE BULLET HIT ME ANYWAAAAAY

[ska-suggestions]

Honestly just getting all the basic 500 items on Infernus and then saving up for Ricohet has become the way for me.

It just feels REALLY good to have fast clear since his gun is shitty on purpose if you don't factor in his 3 burn. He's basically an SMG but for comparison Wraith does much better at base, then you go toxic bullets so that every wave and camp dies in a snap of your flaming fingers.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

I just loved the first part of my tears ricohet! I love how soft and gente Joel is with her ❤ I really hope they stay together 😍

ahhh i’m so glad you loved it! i love my lil love sick joel 😭

[bookns]

I associate these songs with someone very specific in my life

[dcrknesshums]

Raelyn felt like she could fall asleep, exhaustion coursing through her to the point where if he left her here to snooze on his counter, she'd probably do so just as fine. There was still a notable ache between the apex of her thighs but the numbness of her entire body almost seemed to overpower it. She heard him hum at her response, surprised by it herself, practically one with the granite as she melted against it. Her faze shifted only to almost nuzzle into the soft brush of his thumb, a sound almost like a small coo coming in response as heavy lids didn't yet left. Slowly, limly, her arms uncrossed and slid from her back and her palms found the counter with a gentle slap. She waited a moment, hesitating the rush of blood to either her head or between her legs when she stood, tightening what she could to ever so gently lift her torso up from the countertop. She wobbled, only slightly, legs coming together with an audible sigh drifting upon feeling how slick she was, thighs practically gliding against one another. Jesus Christ.

Raelyn gently stood straight, not wincing at the pain that ricohetted through her but sighing at it instead. Using one hand to keep herself stable, she lifted the other to wipe across her face with her sleeve, feeling even more humiliated for having sobbed as hard as she did. She could feel how raw her eyes were, they burned ferociously, but Raelyn felt a sense of peace washing over her she had never experienced. Not even when she stood on the podium, accepting a gold medal, did she feel so at ease— so relieved. Her head lulled slightly forward, not brave enough to face him yet, her muscles gently shaking as she swayed a bit, attempting to keep herself upright. ❛ I'm sorry for crying, ❜ she apologized after a moment, primarily to clear her own conscience and not because it was something that had bothered him. It came natural for her to apologize for emotion, especially when it came in excess. She was conditioned to keep a mask on, to save face, and never once had she stripped it off and bared herself vulnerable to someone before. Let alone in a state such as this. Her eyes lifted to his, murky with exhaustion and enamor, gazing up at him with an adoring glint in her eyes that now stood in pace of the fear she had felt however long ago.

She took a while to answer this time. So Ezra waited patiently. His palm still and soothing on her skin as he looked forwards her features. Then, almost suddenly, there was some kind of shift in her. She went from sobbing and crying out in pain, to a stillness. Her muscles unwound before him, finding calmness in the pause he'd given her. It was, for the most part, for his own peace of mind. He had to make sure a part of her mind was still with him - lucid enough to take stock of her body and mind. The humming in his own hand was largely ignored. He'd done this so many times, it was almost second nature to him to entirely disregard the way his own skin ached at the continuous abuse.

Even as time passed, he didn't rush her - didn't shift impatiently, didn't hum or sigh or indicate the passing of time in any way. Time might as well have stood entirely still. Or, at the very least it did in their own little bubble. Her face was damp from tears and sweat, flushed from exertion, and yet a softness started to take form. Ezra bit the tip of his tongue to keep surprise from his own features when she then answered him. He only hummed thoughtfully in response. So... she definitely had more of a masochistic streak than he'd originally anticipated. Interesting.

Still, the scene felt over to him. So despite her answer, he ran his palm down her backside gently and lifted his other hand from her face. They'd both gotten what they needed for now, and he didn't want to push her too far. He needed her to process what had happened; how she'd responded, before they went any further down this particular road.

So he ran his thumb over her wet cheek in a gentle caress. "Stand up for me, sweetheart - slowly." He stood by, ready to catch her if she crumbled or lost her balance in any way. Despite the rigor of the training she was used to, her muscles had to be weary at this point and were likely to give out.