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Sinderella

Angy Tumbleweed
Staff
Location
In Guzma's Closet
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. sylveon-shiny
  2. gothitelle
  3. froslass
  4. chandelure
  5. mimikyu
A huge storm's rolling in, and Guzma has challenged Odette to surf some of the oncoming waves with him, as is Alola "tradition."

However, he's taking a while to get ready, and she's losing her nerve. She doesn't want to let him down.

Truthfully, she'd rather impress him
somehow.

***

Storm Surge
A one-shot by Sinderella
CW: Strong Language, Near Death Experience, Drowning
Hey all! This was written in one go, so gentle critique appreciated!

I'm unsure where this will fit in with White Swan, Black Swan's continuity, if it even will. I intentionally wrote it omitting some things that may or may not exist in arc 2 because mystery. But, it works as a standalone one-shot. So, please enjoy! 🤍🖤
Odette dug her foot into the sand as the thunder rumbled in the distance. He was taking too long. The waves were getting higher and higher, and surely a downpour wasn’t that far off. The longer she stood there, clutching to her stupid surfboard, the more agitated she was getting.

“One minute, my ass,” she said through clenched teeth as a wave tumbled into the shoreline, sending the murky Alolan waters up around her ankles. There was already a pre-storm chill in the air, which felt no colder than Kalos in the early fall. Familiar. Even a little comforting. However, the water hit like an Ice Beam, sending a chill up through her calves and into her spine. Guzma had said the water would be cold, but not that cold.

Still, she wasn’t about to back out. She was still sticking to her guns that this was a dumb idea—because being anywhere near the ocean during an oncoming storm was simply asking for a shitty time—but she wasn’t about to back down from a challenge. Especially not from Guzma. It wouldn’t be good for their repertoire of constantly one-upping each other, and she’d never hear the end of it.

She’d much rather hear what would come out of it when they were done.

Damn ‘Dette, you fuckin’ shredded that! I didn’t think you’d be up to it, but that was wicked cool!

The blush that took form on the tip of her nose quickly spread across her face, and she had half a mind to stick her head in the next oncoming wave to put it out. Maybe she’d drown in the process so she wouldn’t have to keep subjecting herself to this stupid crush.

She supposed it wasn’t bad to admit that she liked when he complimented her. Not the backhanded ones that he liked to toss out when they were reaming each other, but the real ones that slipped out every so often. The ones he gave where he genuinely smiled, and the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly. He had a nice smile. A cute one.

Of course, that wasn’t to say she needed the compliments. She knew full well that she was an able-bodied and capable human, but…it was nice to have that attention from him. Once in a while, of course.

Another quake of thunder caused the sand under her bare feet to vibrate, effectively ending her sugarcoated train of thought and bringing her back to her annoyance. She wasn’t sure what Team Skull’s definition of a minute was, but hers wasn’t the same.

The low-hanging clouds only looked like they were getting closer, and the waves were towering now. Their window of opportunity was closing; he had to have known that.

She had half a mind to stomp up to his shack and drag him back by his ear if she had to. She was quickly starting to lose her nerve and didn’t want to be accused of chickening out. Not accepting the challenge was bad enough, but backing out on the precipice of completion was even worse.

Besides, she was holding her breath for a congratulatory hug. Maybe he’d even wrap his towel around her while they ran for the cover of his home as the rain came down, and—

She squeezed her eyes shut. She was getting way too ahead of herself. Surfing storm waves would prove much harder if all she could think about was hugging him in the rain, like a wistful soap opera girl. Idiotic.

However, that got her thinking. He might not have been there now to swim out with her, but imagine if he’d come back out to see she’d gone off and done it herself? No training wheels from Golisopod; just her. All by herself, with no issues. Guzma would eat all of those playful taunts he gave her while initially teaching her how to surf. Maybe he’d even be super impressed.

You’re a fuckin’ madlad! That was so sick!

Odette pursed her lips despite herself, carefully glancing over her shoulder toward his house. This was the stupid girl crush talking, and she knew that perfectly well. She knew this was a bad idea even with Guzma being an experienced surfer, but her by herself? She could swim, and she could hold her balance, but these weren’t anything like the waves that had been crashing down on Hau’oli beach. This was the real deal. The big time.

Bitch, I could kiss you right now.

She frowned. This was stupid.

But if she could impress him, it might be worth it for a few minutes. Worst case scenario, she had a wipeout and swam back to shore. She wasn’t going that far out anyway.

Squaring her shoulders and adjusting her goggles against her head, she ran for the choppy water, ignoring how louder the thunder suddenly sounded.

The most difficult part was getting used to the freezing temperatures. Even wearing her long-sleeved top, the chill still managed to drill through the material and prickled against her skin. Her teeth chattered involuntarily, though that might have also been because of her sudden adrenaline spike. Her energy levels surged as she fought through the rolling waves, eager to find a good spot to ride one back in. It needed to be one good one, just at the right time for Guzma to see her. If he was going to drag ass doing whatever the fuck it was he was doing, he was going to have to settle with watching her be cool without him. She briefly smirked at the thought before being punched with another fist of salt water.

By the time her body had gotten used to the chill, she’d made it several yards out. She had difficulty gauging just how far she’d gone with how the ocean swelled and heaved around her, but it looked like a solid distance. She couldn’t see any movement on the shore, which meant Guzma’s dumbass wasn’t back yet. She wasn’t sure how long she could tread water on the board before being forced back in, but if the clouds were any indication, it would be sooner rather than later.

As that thought occurred to her, she sunk into a deep trough. She craned her neck to look over her shoulder, just in time to catch the sight of a crest looming far higher than she was used to seeing. That would have to be it. If she let that wave slide, she was going under. With an agitated grunt, she leaned over the board and started paddling back toward the shore.

The water swelled behind her, and just when it felt like she might flip forward, she pushed herself up to stand and situated herself into that side stance. Left foot forward, perpendicular to the tip of the board. Right foot back, at a slight angle. Arms out, but not too much. Legs bent into a partial squat. She only had a second to ensure she was standing correctly before leaning into the wave to catch the ride.

When she didn’t immediately go upside down, a sense of pride took form within her. She didn’t have enough time to enjoy it because all of her attention was going toward her balance. Staying upright. Feeling the water droplets hit her as she ripped through the sea, back toward the safety of the sand. More thunder harmonized with the ocean's roar, and Odette felt herself grin again.

She was doing it. She was really–

Her entire world flipped, board and all.

Upon hitting the water, the waves overtook her, tossing her back and forth like a ball. It took her a few seconds to register that she had fallen, but she made for the surface once she did. The sea did its best to keep her from getting there, but even in its violent state, it was no match for the strength of her legs.

Odette gasped for air as her head poked out of the water. She didn’t get much before another wave washed over her, sending her into a coughing fit. She could feel the strap of the board still wrapped around her ankle, and she knew she needed to get back on it.

She’d be furious if she had the brainpower to feel anything more. With the weather, with the ocean, with herself. So much for trying to show off for Guzma. She sincerely hoped he hadn’t seen that.

Stupid idea, she thought.

As her hands brushed the surfboard, she braced herself to get back on it. Her mind briefly started to wander toward thoughts of a hot shower and curling up in bed under her weighted blanket. If she got anything out of this, it would be a good night’s sleep, that was for damn sure.

All certainty fled, however, when something else wrapped around her free leg, sending a searing jolt up through her bones.

She barely had a chance to scream before it jerked her back into the murky gray. It pulled with such force, the strap that tethered her to the board snapped like a weak thread. She tried to grab it in a last-ditch effort to protect herself, but it was no use. No surfboard could have saved her from whatever was yanking her toward the ocean floor.

As she tore through the water, she could turn her head enough to catch sight of what exactly was out to kill her. Her eyes landed on a blue, mushroom-shaped head. Red bulges adorned the bell of it, and its yellow tentacles splayed out in its wake as it glided through the murky ocean.

A fucking tentacruel. That explained the unending sting.

Her brain began spinning in circles as she tried to figure out a way out of the situation. So many thoughts passed through her head that she couldn’t formulate anything else coherent.

I can’t breathe, my ankle, I need to get back…

She kicked her legs as if that alone would get the thing to let go of her. The pressure was building inside her chest, slowly but surely becoming a burn. The last time she’d had a breath-holding contest with Plumeria, she’d managed about a minute and forty-five seconds before giving in. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been under, but the urge to gasp let her know she was nearing her limit.

In desperation, she reached for her caught leg, pawing her way down until she found her ankle. Her fingers dug into the slimy tendril, and she pushed herself through the unbearable sting against her fingertips as she tried to pry it off. She didn’t hesitate to claw as hard as she could. No use in being gentle when the tentacruel was being so violent with her to begin with.

As she got her fingers between her skin and the tentacle, it suddenly tightened on her. The tentacruel was not keen on her getting away.

With a swift yank, it swung her downward, and her back hit the floor.

She wasn’t sure what felt worse: the feeling of her bare skin being dragged along the coral or the seawater that filled her mouth as she involuntarily tried to gasp for air. She felt her free leg graze something, leading to another burning sensation. She soon felt the same feeling in her lower back. And somewhere against her wrist.

It had to have been fire coral. Guzma had warned her about it when she initially agreed to surf with him. But he’d also said it was in the deeper water and that she probably wouldn’t need to worry about it.

She let out a shriek that was muffled by the sea, and she watched helplessly as her bubbles floated to the surface without her.

She remembered arguing with Noel about the worst way to die: drowning or burning alive. She had insisted that it was burning alive, but Noel was adamant that it was drowning. At the time, she simply couldn’t get on board with it.

The burn from the fire coral and from whatever sting that tentacle had given her was nothing compared to the stabbing pain of saltwater in her human lungs. There was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it, either.

Everything…hurts...

She’d always felt that she would die in pain, but she never thought it would be like this. At the tendrils of a fucking tentacruel because she decided to think with her stupid girl crush and not her actual brain.

BOOM.

The tightness released from her ankle following a flash of light that struck the tentacruel’s head.

Nothing felt real anymore, so she couldn’t tell where it had come from. She felt both weightless and heavy as her eyes slipped shut, and the blackness that engulfed her started to provide some relief from the suffocation. All feelings began to fade away as she slowly drifted into nonexistence. All that was left was the acceptance that this was how it would end.

There was her peace.

Finally.

~​

With a frenzied cough, she jolted upright.

Sparks of pain ignited all over her person, causing her stomach to heave. As she rolled onto her side, the seawater came up in gushes, tearing through her throat and intensifying her sputtering.

But, at least she could breathe.

She could breathe.

“...dette!”

Her blood pounding against her eardrums made it almost impossible to hear. A noise that felt reminiscent of static also filled her head, occasionally interrupted by a rumble.

The numbness of unconsciousness faded, and she realized just how cold she was. The pain and urge to vomit aside, all warmth had vacated her body. She was shivering uncontrollably before she'd even gotten feeling back in her body.

“Odette!”

The familiarity of the voice was calming. Her muscles relaxed, leaving her limp against the soaked beach sand. As she forced herself onto her back again, she could see through her waning vision that it was pouring. The sky had become so black she could barely make out Guzma’s terrified frown through the deluge.

Odette grimaced as she tried to get her vocal cords to work.

“Hi,” she managed in a jagged wheeze.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Guzma screamed. The bass in his voice managed to carry over the hammering of the rain. “I told you to wait for me! I told you to wait for me!

His body hung over hers, and his blazing gold eyes bore into her soul. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe again.

“You could have drowned, do you fucking know that?” he continued. She couldn’t tell if his voice was trembling or if it was an effect of the downpour. “That tentacruel damn well could have killed you! What the actual fuck were you thinking?”

Her throat was on fire. Saltwater still coated her tongue, leaving it feeling dry. It was a wonder she was able to speak again. “I was…I was trying to show you…”

“Show me what? That you’re an idiot? That you’re fucking braindead?

He was yelling at her. His teeth were bared like he normally bared them when he was getting ready to throw a punch. He was livid.

And yet, his shaking hands caressed her face with such tenderness he might as well have been trying to lull her to sleep.

“I was trying…trying to impress you…” she managed between weak gasps. "And you were...dragging ass."

Even with the rain clouding most of her vision, she could see how his jaw clenched. He furrowed his brow, but his eyes remained wide with rage. “Are you twelve? Are we in fucking high school?”

She didn’t have a good answer for that.

"Assflash newshole; I was trying to find the damn repellent," he hissed.

Of course he was.

“And I don’t need you to impress me. I’m always fucking impressed with you. What the hell is trying to get yourself killed going to show me?”

All she could do at that point was shake her head. “I…I don’t…”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one between us! You can’t be doing this shit, you can’t be,” his breath hitched, causing his voice to crack,“ scaring the fucking shit out of me like that, you stupid dumbass motherfucking…”

His teeth were clenched as he hugged her to his chest. Tight enough for it to feel secure but not hard enough to where she couldn’t breathe. Through her numbness, she could feel his face settle into the crook of her neck. His breaths felt shallow and ragged against her, but he was able to right himself rather quickly. Quicker than he normally did, at least.

“Are you okay?” he finally said into her ear. There was a newfound gentleness to his voice. It sounded like all the anger had faded away entirely.

Odette swallowed hard, cringing through the searing dryness in her throat. “My ankle,” she croaked. It stung the worst.

That was all he needed to hear. He tucked his arms under her quivering legs and looped them around his waist before standing up, then jogged away from the beach, through the grass, and up the steps of his bungalow.

“I’ve got a first aid kit,” he muttered, tightening his hold on her legs. “Golisopod’s handling the fucking tentacruel. You’re gonna be fine.”

~​

Even sitting underneath a stream of steaming water, Odette still felt herself shaking.

She sat on the bathtub floor with her head between her knees, letting the shower run over her. Guzma had done well in applying the stun spore numbing cream he had on hand because none of her stings or scrapes flared up under the water’s heat. Her ankle still pulsed with a dull ache every now and again, but it was mostly manageable for the moment.

Her eyes fluttered with threatening sleep as she relished in the warm feeling. She’d just come out of unconsciousness, and yet her body was chasing it all over again. All she wanted to do now was lay down. And chug a gallon of sparkling water. She couldn’t describe how thirsty she’d gotten since setting foot in the tub, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. The warmth felt too good. It helped remind her that she was somehow still alive.

She was alive, and Guzma was fuming. He had every right to be and then some.

Odette wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but she eventually turned the faucet off and stood up, showing care to her stung ankle. There was enough steam in the small bathroom that she wasn’t met with more unrelenting cold as she slowly stepped out onto the bath mat. Through her blurred vision, she could see the shape of a towel sitting on the sink. A heap of dark-colored colored blobs sat next to it, which she assumed would be her new outfit for the time being. She pawed it and was relieved to feel her regular glasses sitting on top of the pile. She quickly put them on, only to see that the blobs were indeed clothes. Guzma's clothes.

How the fuck is this going to work?

Upon pulling the garments onto her dried body, she got her answer. The shirt hung like a dress, and its sleeves covered both of her hands entirely. The shorts were a little easier to fit due to the drawstrings, and her wide hips seemed to fill them out a little better. Not by much, though. She still had to pull the strings as tight as they would go, and she even tucked the hem of the shirt into the waistband for good measure. However, despite the ridiculous sizing, she was very comfortable. The most comfortable she’d been since coming inside, anyway.

Draping the towel over her shoulders, she approached the door and placed her hands on it. After a moment's hesitation, she pushed it open.

She didn’t know where Guzma was going to be and was shocked to find that he was sitting on the floor next to the door. His head lifted abruptly at the sound of her footsteps, and he looked relieved to see her.

“Shit, I was getting ready to go in there,” he huffed, pushing his wet hair back. He’d yet to change out of his bathing suit. “You good? Clothes alright?”

She nodded once. “I was just cold. Shower felt great.” Her voice sounded scratchy against her wrecked throat. “And they’re fine. Wouldn’t expect you to have midget-sized stuff on hand anyway.”

That should have made him laugh. When it didn’t, she grimaced to herself. He just silently pushed himself to his feet.

“And you're positive you can breathe? You don’t feel lightheaded or anything?”

Odette sighed softly, shaking her head. “I said it was just my ankle,” she replied, causing him to scoff.

“Yeah, ‘nd wet lung ‘nd dry drowning are still shit that can happen. I’ve got half a mind to run you down to the clinic anyway.

“Could Golisopod even get down to the main roads in this? Where even is he?"

His gaze on her was unrelenting. Hard, yet…concerned. He was supposed to at least chuckle at that comment too, and once again, he remained stone-faced. She was starting to shrivel internally.

“In his ball, sleeping off that fight. We’d figure it out, but I think you've had enough dangerous bullshit for the night,” he said coldly. It sent a bolt of metaphorical ice through her.

With that, he brushed past her and out into the kitchen area. He expected her to follow because he glanced back at her before he made it to the counter, where a water bottle was already sitting. He picked it up and handed it to her as she limped behind him.

“Drink. No doubt you're dehydrated as all hell.”

He was right about that. The feeling of fresh water washing over her dry, scratchy tongue was pure bliss. She’d downed more than half of it when she finally stopped chugging.

“Thanks,” she muttered, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

“Mm.”

Odette was certain she felt like she didn’t have any seawater left in her system, yet her chest and stomach churned like there might have been.

She made herself take another short sip. “So we can’t get to the main roads, but what are the odds of me getting home?” she asked sarcastically.

He finally laughed. But it was harsh. It bit at her nerves.

“Storm’s only gotten worse since you got in the shower,” he said. “You're not going anywhere in this. You can have my bed; I’ll sleep on the recliner.”

“Guz–”

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it,” he snapped. “And as soon as the storm lets up, we’re going to an urgent care.”

She cringed. “I told you—”

“And I told you to fucking wait for me.”

Her mouth felt dry again. Any other words she had in mind vanished, and her grip on the bottle tightened. Tears balled up at the corners of her eyes, and she hoped with all she had that he couldn’t see them before she looked away.

He was right, and she knew that. No amount of poorly-timed jokes and derisive quips would make that go away.

She was stupid. Braindead, as he said. All of this strife and a near-death experience over her stupid girl crush. When the hell was she going to learn that nothing good came out of her thinking with anything but her brain?

She swallowed hard, her expression unwavering through the pain. “You did,” she croaked.

Another sip. She wasn’t feeling thirsty anymore, but at least it gave her something to do as she struggled not to look at him. She could feel his eyes digging holes into the side of her face as she kept her gaze trained on the floor. Even as he pushed himself off the counter and walked over to her, she dared not look in his direction. Not until he pulled her into a hug.

His arms had always been just as hard as they looked, but he somehow managed to make his hugs so gentle. Even when she probably didn’t deserve it.

She sniffled deeply as a tear fell down her cheek, and she felt him bury his face in her hair.

“I'm so fucking mad at you,” he murmured.

“I know,” she replied in a whisper. “I’m mad at me too,”

His arms tensed ever so slightly, and she tensed with him.

“You know how long I was beating on your chest?” he asked. The weight behind that question nearly pulled her down to the floor. Thankfully, he was holding her up quite nicely. When she didn’t respond, he went on.

“Over a minute. Sixty-five seconds. Kept looking at my watch.”

Another tear joined the first, and she closed her eyes.

“You weren’t moving, and I didn’t think you were gonna.”

The words were obviously painful for him to say. That time, he tightened his grip on her.

“I thought you died, O. You weren’t moving.

There were no words for that. She tried to find them anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she heaved.

Guzma scoffed loudly before reaching up to grasp her shoulders. He pushed her just far enough away to look down at her, but not enough to where he couldn’t still hold her.

“I’m not asking you to be sorry,” he retorted, his forehead hovering above hers. “I just wanna know what the fuck possessed you to do that. All for something as dumb as trying to impress me? You could open a can of rockruff food and I’d be fucking impressed, are you kidding me?

His eyes narrowed in disbelief, and he shook her gingerly. Like he was trying to get something out of her. “‘Dette, what?

Odette couldn’t consciously think of a good response. A logical response. Because there wasn’t one. She stood before him, mindlessly shaking her head before any semblance of a sentence came to form.

“Crushes make people do,” her voice broke, causing another tear to slip, “stupid shit.”

She watched as Guzma’s expression fell. His jaw went slack, and he dipped his head toward his chest as a sigh fell out of him. That wasn’t how she wanted to tell him, but that didn’t matter anymore. All bets were off right now.

He went a while without saying anything, and if Odette were in any other state of mind, she might have panicked. But she had exhausted all of her ability to panic on nearly drowning at the hands of a hunting tentacruel.

When he eventually grasped her stung hand in his, she jumped. He took it between his meaty hands and examined the sting marks on her fingers. They were the first of her injuries that he’d slathered the numbing cream on, so they currently weren’t causing her any excess pain. She only felt a comforting warmth as he laced his fingers with hers and held her knuckles to his lips.

“D…do shit that’s gonna keep you warm and breathing,” he said. “Don’t give me something else to have nightmares about, please.

Her brain stalled on the feel of him talking against her skin, but she was able to jumpstart herself with a short nod. “I wouldn’t…” she tried to respond. “I wouldn’t…want to.”

Guzma took to looking at her fingers again. Something about the sting marks had him enthralled. Another sigh sounded from him, and he dropped her hand again.

“I’m not good at this crap. I wanna yell at you some more, but I also don’t,” he said. “And I know we need to talk, but I am fucking freezing.”

Odette’s eyes moved down his body. His swimwear was very much still damp, and she’d been hogging the shower for gods knew how long. She somehow found a way to feel even worse. Both for leaving him to freeze and for making him feel like he needed to address her confession at the moment. She didn’t even want to. There was too much going on inside her head.

He reached up and wiped away her tear streaks with his thumb, pursing his lips as he did. “You should go lay down. I'll wrap up your ankle when I get out of the shower, a’ight?”

Truthfully, laying down sounded like a really good idea. “Sure,” she agreed.

She probably could have wrapped it herself, but she wasn’t in any position to be protesting him now. The dull, tired ache pulsing through her body was indication enough that she shouldn’t be exerting herself too much anyway.

Without another word, she turned and made her way over to the recliner positioned just adjacent to the couch. Her bones creaked and moaned as she slowly lowered herself into it, bracing for any sudden pain that might come over her if she accidentally brushed against one of her numbed-up stings or bruises. But, she settled into the leather easily, allowing her muscles to relax fully and the exhaustion to take hold.

Sleep arrived faster than it ever had before.

~​

Consciousness returned. The TV was on, and everything hurt again.

She wasn’t sure when she’d ended up on her side or covered in a blanket, but she groaned as she tried to adjust her position. A throbbing sensation in her lower back and legs caused her to grimace, and she sucked her teeth. She guessed the numbing cream had worn off.

“Easy, easy,” Guzma’s voice said. A hand brushed her face. Another rubbed her lower back as if trying to coax the pain out of it. “Go back to sleep, idiot.”

She tried to push herself to sit up, but her hand landed on…Guzma himself. Upon lifting her head, she saw that he’d somehow managed to get himself onto the chair without waking her up and was now acting as her pillow. One of his arms was wrapped loosely around her back, and the other had come to settle on his stomach. His hair was still wet from his shower, and the look he gave her now was far more relaxed and smug.

More importantly, they were together. On the recliner. Cuddling. While she slept.

Blinking slowly at him, she felt heat rush to the tip of her nose. She soon found the feeling to lift her arm and rub her eye, hoping to distract herself somehow.

“How long–?” she started to ask. A crackle of thunder caused the bungalow to shudder, and she did as well.

“‘Bout two hours,” he answered. “Wrapped your ankle up and was gonna take you to the bed, but you looked comfy, so I didn’t have the heart to bother you.”

She yawned and started to rub at her other eye. She rolled her injured foot slowly, feeling the tightness of the bandage around it. It stung, but not horribly.

“But you wriggled yourself up next to me instead?”

He snickered. “Well, it’s my chair. It’s hella comfy, and we fit on it just fine. You were out cold, so it wasn’t a problem.”

No, it wasn’t. She’d have been okay with it if she were awake or even if the chair weren’t as big as it was. But she wasn’t going to say that. She’d said and done enough already.

Thunder shook the walls again, and Odette glanced toward the TV. The news was on, and it looked like they were talking about the passing storm, but she couldn’t quite register what they were saying. She still wasn’t fully awake and unsure if she would be.

“News says it’s not letting up any time soon, so you might as well knock out again,” Guzma said.

She started to yawn again, cringing as another ache pulsed down her back. “I can just walk to the bed now,” she suggested. “Since I’m up.”

“And I’m telling you you shouldn’t be. You need to rest, ‘nd you need to stay off that ankle for a bit.”

Exhaling softly, her eyes began to flutter. Arguing in this state of mind would be a bad idea, but she couldn’t quite help herself.

“We don’t need to crowd each other like this, so I can just move,” she said reluctantly. Very reluctantly. But it felt like the polite thing to do.

That got a full-blown chuckle out of him. A real one. The sound of it calmed her nerves considerably, and she nearly fell back to sleep right then and there.

“Nah, I don’t think so. Need to ensure you’re sleeping properly, so I’d rather not leave you alone.”

Odette shot him a sideways glance, and he took that as an invite to go on.

“I’m not going anywhere. You're stuck with me for a while, got it?”

Her nose felt hot again. Once more, she didn’t feel like she had any grounds to bicker with him, and she stopped there. “Got it.”

She hesitantly laid her head back down, but as her cheek settled into his chest and the soft fabric of his hoodie, she felt entirely at ease. As he pushed some of her hair aside, her entire person was engulfed with warm contentment. A sense of absolute safety.

It’d been a while since she’d felt that. And having it come from him just made her heart soar.

“I know you're half asleep ‘nd whatever,” he suddenly spoke again, “but I want to let you know that there's a much better way of showing somebody you have a crush on them.”

Odette craned her neck to give him a half-lidded look. She was aching to shut her eyes again, but the statement had sent the slightest jolt of surprise through her core.

“And what is it?” she queried in a drawl.

“Letting ‘em sleep on you,” he replied, the slightest smirk gracing his lips.

She started blinking rapidly, unable to process the statement in her fatigued mind. Clearly, the look on her face was humorous to him because his smirk grew.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow. Please try to go back to sleep,” he insisted.

That time, she obliged. After nearly falling to the cold, relentless sea, being wrapped up in his arms, safe from the storm as she dozed off, was exactly where she needed to be. Knowing he wanted her there only made it that much warmer.
 
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zion of arcadia

too much of my own quietness is with me
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. marowak-alola
A huge storm's rolling in, and Guzma has challenged Odette to surf some of the oncoming waves with him, as is Alola "tradition."

However, he's taking a while to get ready, and she's losing her nerve. She doesn't want to let him down.

Truthfully, she'd rather impress him
somehow.

***

Storm Surge
A one-shot by Sinderella
CW: Strong Language, Near Death Experience, Drowning
Hey all! This was written in one go, so gentle critique appreciated!

I'm unsure where this will fit in with White Swan, Black Swan's continuity, if it even will. I intentionally wrote it omitting some things that may or may not exist in arc 2 because mystery. But, it works as a standalone one-shot. So, please enjoy! 🤍🖤
Odette dug her foot into the sand as the thunder rumbled in the distance. He was taking too long. The waves were getting higher and higher, and surely a downpour wasn’t that far off. The longer she stood there, clutching to her stupid surfboard, the more agitated she was getting.

“One minute, my ass,” she said through clenched teeth as a wave tumbled into the shoreline, sending the murky Alolan waters up around her ankles. There was already a pre-storm chill in the air, which felt no colder than Kalos in the early fall. Familiar. Even a little comforting. However, the water hit like an Ice Beam, sending a chill up through her calves and into her spine. Guzma had said the water would be cold, but not that cold.

Still, she wasn’t about to back out. She was still sticking to her guns that this was a dumb idea—because being anywhere near the ocean during an oncoming storm was simply asking for a shitty time—but she wasn’t about to back down from a challenge. Especially not from Guzma. It wouldn’t be good for their repertoire of constantly one-upping each other, and she’d never hear the end of it.

She’d much rather hear what was going to come out of it when they were done.

Damn ‘Dette, you fuckin’ shredded that! I didn’t think you’d be up to it, but that was wicked cool!

The blush that took form on the tip of her nose quickly spread across her face, and she had half a mind to stick her head in the next oncoming wave to put it out. Maybe she’d drown in the process so she wouldn’t have to keep subjecting herself to this stupid crush.

She supposed it wasn’t bad to admit that she liked when he complimented her. Not the backhanded ones that he liked to toss out when they were reaming each other, but the real ones that slipped out every so often. The ones he gave where he genuinely smiled, and the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly. He had a nice smile. A cute one.

Of course, that wasn’t to say she needed the compliments. She knew full well that she was an able-bodied and capable human, but…it was nice to have that attention from him. Once in a while, of course.

Another quake of thunder caused the sand under her bare feet to vibrate, effectively ending her sugarcoated train of thought and bringing her back to her annoyance. She wasn’t sure what Team Skull’s definition of a minute was, but it wasn’t the same as hers.

The low-hanging clouds only looked like they were getting closer, and the waves were towering now. Their window of opportunity was closing; he had to have known that.

She had half a mind to stomp up to his shack and drag him back by his ear if she had to. She was quickly starting to lose her nerve, and she didn’t want to be accused of chickening out. Not accepting the challenge was bad enough, but backing out on the precipice of completion was even worse.

Besides, she was holding her breath for a congratulatory hug. Maybe he’d even wrap his towel around her while they ran for the cover of his home as the rain came down, and—

She squeezed her eyes shut. She was getting way too ahead of herself. Surfing storm waves would prove much harder if all she could think about was hugging him in the rain, like a wistful soap opera girl. Idiotic.

However, that got her thinking. He might not have been there now to swim out with her, but imagine if he’d come back out to see she’d gone off and done it herself? No training wheels from Golisopod; just her. All by herself, with no issues. Guzma would eat all of those playful taunts he gave her while initially teaching her how to surf. Maybe he’d even be super impressed.

You’re a fuckin’ madlad! That was so sick!

Odette pursed her lips despite herself, carefully glancing over her shoulder toward his house. This was the stupid girl crush talking, and she knew that perfectly well. She knew this was a bad idea even with Guzma being an experienced surfer, but her by herself? She could swim, and she could hold her balance, but these weren’t anything like the waves that had been crashing down on Hau’oli beach. This was the real deal. The big time.

Bitch, I could kiss you right now.

She frowned. This was stupid.

But if she could impress him, it might be worth it for a few minutes. Worst case scenario, she had a wipeout and swam back to shore. She wasn’t going that far out anyway.

Squaring her shoulders and adjusting her goggles against her head, she ran for the choppy water, ignoring how louder the thunder suddenly sounded.

The most difficult part was getting used to the freezing temperatures. Even wearing her long-sleeved top, the chill still managed to drill through the material and prickled against her skin. Her teeth chattered involuntarily, though that might have also been because of her sudden adrenaline spike. Her energy levels surged as she fought through the rolling waves, eager to find a good spot to ride one back in. It needed to be one good one, just at the right time for Guzma to see her. If he was going to drag ass doing whatever the fuck it was he was doing, he was going to have to settle with watching her be cool without him. She briefly smirked at the thought before being punched with another fist of salt water.

By the time her body had gotten used to the chill, she’d made it several yards out. She had difficulty gauging just how far she’d gone with how the ocean swelled and heaved around her, but it looked like a solid distance. She couldn’t see any movement on the shore, which meant Guzma’s dumbass wasn’t back yet. She wasn’t sure how long she could tread water on the board before being forced back in, but if the clouds were any indication, it would be sooner rather than later.

As that thought occurred to her, she sunk into a deep trough. She craned her neck to look over her shoulder, just in time to catch the sight of a crest looming far higher than she was used to seeing. That would have to be it. If she let that wave slide, she was going under. With an agitated grunt, she leaned over the board and started paddling back toward the shore.

The water swelled behind her, and just when it felt like she might flip forward, she pushed herself up to stand and situated herself into that side stance. Left foot forward, parallel to the tip of the board. Right foot back, at a slight angle. Arms out, but not too much. Legs bent into a partial squat. She only had a second to ensure she was standing correctly before leaning into the wave to catch the ride.

When she didn’t immediately go upside down, a sense of pride took form within her. She didn’t have enough time to enjoy it because all of her attention was going toward her balance. Staying upright. Feeling the water droplets hit her as she ripped through the sea, back toward the safety of the sand. More thunder harmonized with the ocean's roar, and Odette felt herself grin again.

She was doing it. She was really–

Her entire world flipped, board and all.

Upon hitting the water, the waves overtook her, tossing her back and forth like a mere ball. It took her a few seconds to register that she had fallen, but once she did, she made for the surface. The sea did its best to keep her from getting there, but even in its violent state, it was no match for the strength of her legs.

Odette gasped for air as her head poked out of the water. She didn’t get much before another wave washed over her, sending her into a coughing fit. She could feel the strap of the board still wrapped around her ankle, and she knew she needed to get back on it.

If she’d had the brain power to feel anything more, she’d be furious. With the weather, with the ocean, with herself. So much for trying to show off for Guzma. She sincerely hoped he hadn’t seen that.

Stupid idea, she thought.

As her hands brushed the surfboard, she braced herself to get back on it. Her mind briefly started to wander toward thoughts of a hot shower and curling up in bed under her weighted blanket. If she got anything out of this, it would be a good night’s sleep, that was for damn sure.

All certainty fled, however, when something else wrapped around her free leg, sending a searing jolt up through her bones.

She barely had a chance to scream before it jerked her back into the murky gray. It pulled with such force, the strap that tethered her to the board snapped like a weak thread. She tried to grab it in a last-ditch effort to protect herself, but it was no use. No surfboard could have saved her from whatever was yanking her toward the ocean floor.

As she tore through the water, she could turn her head enough to catch sight of what exactly was out to kill her. Her eyes landed on a blue, mushroom-shaped head. Red bulges adorned the bell of it, and its yellow tentacles splayed out in its wake as it glided through the murky ocean.

A fucking tentacruel. That explained the unending sting.

Her brain began spinning in circles as she tried to figure out a way out of the situation. So many thoughts passed through her head that she couldn’t formulate anything else coherent.

I can’t breathe, my ankle, I need to get back…

She kicked her legs as if that alone would get the thing to let go of her. Pressure was building inside her chest, slowly but surely becoming a burn. The last time she’d had a breath-holding contest with Plumeria, she’d managed about a minute and forty-five seconds before giving in. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been under, but the building urge to gasp was letting her know she was nearing her limit.

In desperation, she reached for her caught leg, pawing her way down until she found her ankle. Her fingers dug into the slimy tendril, and she ignored the sting against her fingertips as she tried to pry it off. She didn’t hesitate to claw as hard as she could, and she drew blood in the process. No use in being gentle when the tentacruel was being so violent with her to begin with.

As she managed to get her fingers between her own skin and the tentacle, it suddenly tightened on her. The tentacruel was not keen on her getting away.

With a swift yank, it swung her downward, and her back hit the floor.

She wasn’t sure what felt worse: the feeling of her bare skin being dragged along the coral or the seawater that filled her mouth as she involuntarily tried to gasp for air. She felt her free leg graze something, leading to another burning sensation. She soon felt the same feeling in her lower back. And somewhere against her wrist.

It had to have been fire coral. Guzma had warned her about it when she initially agreed to surf with him. But he’d also said it was in the deeper water and that she probably wouldn’t need to worry about it.

She let out a shriek that was muffled by the sea, and she watched helplessly as her bubbles floated to the surface without her.

She remembered arguing with Noel about the worst way to die: drowning or burning alive. She had insisted that it was burning alive, but Noel was adamant that it was drowning. At the time, she simply couldn’t get on board with it.

The burn from the fire coral and from whatever sting that tentacle had given her was nothing compared to the ache of saltwater in her human lungs. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it, and she realized that as her consciousness started to fade.

Everything…hurts...

She’d always felt that she would die in pain, but she never thought it would be like this. At the tendrils of a fucking tentacruel because she decided to think with her stupid girl crush and not her actual brain.

BOOM.

The tightness released from her ankle following a flash of light that struck the tentacruel’s head.

Nothing felt real anymore, so she couldn’t tell where it had come from. She felt both weightless and heavy as her eyes slipped shut, and the blackness that engulfed her started to provide some relief from the suffocation. All feelings began to fade away as she slowly drifted into nonexistence. All that was left was the acceptance that this was how it would end.

There was her peace.

Finally.

~​

With a frenzied cough, she jolted upright.

Sparks of pain ignited all over her person, causing her stomach to heave. As she rolled onto her side, the seawater came up in gushes, tearing through her throat and intensifying her sputtering.

But, at least, she could breathe.

She could breathe.

“...dette!”

Her blood pounding against her eardrums made it almost impossible to hear. A noise that felt reminiscent of static also filled her head, with it occasionally being interrupted by a rumble.

The numbness of unconsciousness faded, and she realized just how cold she was. The pain and urge to vomit aside, all warmth had vacated her body. She was shivering before she even realized she had the capability to.

“Odette!”

The familiarity of the voice was calming. Her muscles relaxed, leaving her limp against the soaked beach sand. As she forced herself onto her back again, she could see through her waning vision that it was pouring. The sky had become so black she could barely make out Guzma’s terrified frown through the deluge.

Odette grimaced as she tried to get her vocal cords to work.

“Hi,” she managed in a jagged wheeze.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Guzma screamed. The bass in his voice managed to carry over the hammering of the rain. “I told you to wait for me! I told you to wait for me!

His body hung over hers, and his blazing gold eyes bore into her soul. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe again.

“You could have drowned, do you fucking know that?” he continued. She couldn’t tell if his voice was trembling or if it was an effect of the downpour. “That tentacruel damn well could have killed you! What the actual fuck were you thinking?”

Her throat was on fire. Saltwater still coated her tongue, leaving it feeling dry. It was a wonder she was able to speak again. “I was…I was trying to show you…”

“Show me what? That you’re an idiot? That you’re fucking braindead?

He was yelling at her. His teeth were bared like he normally bared them when he was getting ready to throw a punch. He was livid.

And yet, his shaking hands caressed her face with such tenderness he might as well have been trying to lull her to sleep.

“I was trying…trying to impress you…” she managed between weak gasps. "And you were...dragging ass."

Even with the rain clouding most of her vision, she could see how his jaw clenched. He furrowed his brow, but his eyes remained wide with rage. “Are you twelve? Are we in fucking high school?”

She didn’t have a good answer for that.

"Assflash newshole; I was trying to find the damn repellent," he hissed.

Of course he was.

“And I don’t need you to impress me. I’m always fucking impressed with you. What the hell is trying to get yourself killed going to show me?”

All she could do at that point was shake her head. “I…I don’t…”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one between us! You can’t be doing this shit, you can’t be,” his breath hitched, causing his voice to crack,“ scaring the fucking shit out of me like that, you stupid dumbass motherfucking…”

His teeth were clenched now, and before she knew it, he was hugging her to his chest. Tight enough for it to feel secure but not hard enough to where she couldn’t breathe. Through her numbness, she could feel his face settle into the crook of her neck. His breaths felt shallow and ragged against her, but he was able to right himself rather quickly. Quicker than he normally did, at least.

“Are you okay?” he finally said into her ear. There was a newfound gentleness to his voice. It sounded like all the anger had faded away entirely.

Odette swallowed hard, cringing through the searing dryness in her throat. “My ankle,” she croaked. It stung the worst.

That was all he needed to hear. He tucked his arms under her quivering legs and looped them around his waist before standing up, then jogged away from the beach, through the grass, and up the steps of his bungalow.

“I’ve got a first aid kit,” he muttered, tightening his hold on her legs. “Golisopod’s handling the fucking tentacruel. You’re gonna be fine.”

~​

Even sitting underneath a stream of steaming water, Odette still felt herself shaking.

She sat on the bathtub floor with her head between her knees, letting the shower run over her. Guzma had done well in applying the stun spore numbing cream he had on hand, because none of them flared up under the water’s heat. Her ankle still pulsed with a dull ache every now and again, but it was mostly manageable for the moment.

Her eyes fluttered with threatening sleep as she relished in the warm feeling. She’d just come out of unconsciousness, and yet her body was chasing it all over again. All she wanted to do now was lay down. And chug a gallon of sparkling water. She couldn’t describe how thirsty she’d gotten since setting foot in the tub, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. The warmth felt too good. It helped remind her that she was somehow still alive.

She was alive, and Guzma was fuming. He had every right to be and then some.

Odette wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but she eventually turned the faucet off and stood up, showing care to her stung ankle. There was enough steam in the small bathroom that she wasn’t met with more unrelenting cold as she slowly stepped out onto the bath mat. Through her blurred vision, she could see the shape of a towel sitting on the sink. A heap of dark-colored colored blobs sat next to it, which she assumed would be her new outfit for the time being. She pawed it and was relieved to feel her regular glasses sitting on top of the pile. She quickly put them on, only to see that the blobs were indeed clothes. Guzma's clothes.

How the fuck is this going to work?

Upon pulling the garments onto her dried body, she got her answer. The shirt hung like a dress, and its sleeves covered both of her hands entirely. The shorts were a little easier to fit due to the drawstrings, and it seemed that her wide hips filled them out a little better. Not by much, though. She still had to pull the strings as tight as they would go, and she even tucked the hem of the shirt into the waistband for good measure. However, despite the ridiculous sizing, she was very comfortable. The most comfortable she’d been since coming inside, anyway.

Draping the towel over her shoulders, she approached the door and placed her hands on it. After a moment's hesitation, she pushed it open.

She didn’t know where Guzma was going to be and was shocked to find that he was sitting on the floor next to the door. His head lifted abruptly at the sound of her footsteps, and he looked relieved to see her.

“Shit, I was gettin’ ready to go in there,” he huffed, pushing his wet hair back. He’d yet to change out of his bathing suit. “You good? Clothes alright?”

She nodded once. “I was just cold. Shower felt great.” Her voice sounded scratchy against her wrecked throat. “And they’re fine. Wouldn’t expect you to have midget-sized stuff on hand anyway.”

That should have made him laugh. When it didn’t, she grimaced to herself. He just silently pushed himself to his feet.

“And yer positive you can breathe? Ya don’t feel lightheaded or anythin’?”

Odette sighed softly, shaking her head. “I said it was just my ankle,” she replied, causing him to scoff.

“Yeah, ‘n wet lung ‘nd dry drownin’ are still shit that can happen. I’ve got half a mind to run you down to the clinic anyway.

“Could Golisopod even get down to the main roads in this? Where even is he?"

His gaze on her was unrelenting. Hard, yet…concerned. He was supposed to at least chuckle at that comment too, and once again, he remained stone-faced. She was starting to shrivel internally.

“In his ball, sleepin’ off that fight. We’d figure it out, but I think you've had enough dangerous bullshit for the night,” he said coldly. It sent a bolt of metaphorical ice through her.

With that, he brushed past her and out into the kitchen area. He expected her to follow because he glanced back at her before he made it to the counter, where a water bottle was already sitting. He picked it up and handed it to her as she limped behind him.

“Drink. No doubt yer dehydrated as all hell.”

He was right about that. The feeling of fresh water washing over her dry, scratchy tongue was the equivalent to pure bliss. She’d downed more than half of it when she finally stopped chugging.

“Thanks,” she muttered, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

“Mm.”

Odette was certain she felt like she didn’t have any seawater left in her system, yet her chest and stomach churned like there might have been.

She made herself take another short sip. “So we can’t get to the main roads, but what are the odds of me getting home?” she asked sarcastically.

He finally laughed. But it was harsh. It bit at her nerves.

“Storm’s only gotten worse since ya got in the shower,” he said. “Yer not goin’ anywhere in this. You can have my bed; I’ll sleep on the recliner.”

“Guz–”

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it,” he snapped. “‘Nd as soon as the storm lets up, we’re goin’ to an urgent care.”

She cringed. “I told you—”

“And I told you to fucking wait for me.”

Her mouth felt dry again. Any other words she had in mind vanished, and her grip on the bottle tightened. Tears balled up at the corners of her eyes, and she hoped with all she had that he couldn’t see them before she looked away.

He was right, and she knew that. No amount of poorly-timed jokes and derisive quips would make that go away.

She was stupid. Braindead, as he said. All of this strife and a near-death experience over her stupid girl crush. When the hell was she going to learn that nothing good came out of her thinking with anything but her brain?

She swallowed hard, her expression unwavering through the pain. “You did,” she croaked.

Another sip. She wasn’t feeling thirsty anymore, but at least it gave her something to do as she struggled not to look at him. She could feel his eyes digging holes into the side of her face as she kept her gaze trained on the floor. Even as he pushed himself off the counter and walked over to her, she dared not look in his direction. Not until he pulled her into a hug.

His arms had always been just as hard as they looked, but he somehow managed to make his hugs so gentle. Even when she probably didn’t deserve it.

She sniffled deeply as a tear fell down her cheek, and she felt him bury his face in her hair.

“I’m so mad at you,” he murmured.

“I know,” she replied in a whisper. “I’m mad at me too,”

His arms tensed ever so slightly. She might have not noticed if she weren’t as observant as she was.

“You know how long I was beating on your chest?” he asked. The weight behind that question nearly pulled her down to the floor. Thankfully, he was holding her up quite nicely. When she didn’t respond, he went on.

“Over a minute. Sixty-five seconds. Kept looking at my watch.”

Another tear joined the first, and she closed her eyes.

“You weren’t moving, and I didn’t think you were gonna.”

The words were obviously painful for him to say. That time, he tightened his grip on her.

“I thought you died, O. You weren’t moving.

There were no words for that. She tried to find them anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she heaved.

Guzma scoffed loudly before reaching up to grasp her shoulders. He pushed her just far enough away to look down at her, but not enough to where he couldn’t still hold her.

“I’m not asking you to be sorry,” he retorted, his forehead hovering above hers. “I just wanna know what the fuck possessed you to do that. All for something as dumb as trying to impress me? You could open a can of rockruff food and I’d be fucking impressed, are you kidding me?

His eyes narrowed in disbelief, and he shook her gingerly. Like he was trying to get something out of her. “‘Dette, what?

Odette couldn’t consciously think of a good response. A logical response. Because there wasn’t one. She stood before him, mindlessly shaking her head before any semblance of a sentence came to form.

“Crushes make people do,” her voice broke, causing another tear to slip, “stupid shit.”

She watched as Guzma’s expression fell. His jaw went slack, and he dipped his head toward his chest as a sigh fell out of him. That wasn’t how she wanted to tell him, but that didn’t matter anymore. All bets were off right now.

He went a while without saying anything, and if Odette were in any other state of mind, she might have panicked. But she had exhausted all of her ability to panic on nearly drowning at the hands of a hunting tentacruel.

When he eventually grasped her stung hand in his, she jumped. He took it between both of his meaty hands and took to examining the sting marks on her fingers. They were the first of her injuries that he’d slathered the numbing cream on, so they currently weren’t causing her any excess pain. She only felt a comforting warmth as he laced his fingers with hers and held her knuckles to his lips.

“D…do shit that’s gonna keep you warm and breathin’,” he said. “Don’t give me somethin’ else to have nightmares about, please.

Her brain stalled on the feel of him talking against her skin, but she was able to jumpstart herself with a short nod. “I wouldn’t…” she tried to respond. “I wouldn’t…want to.”

Guzma took to looking at her fingers again. Something about the sting marks had him enthralled. Another sigh sounded from him, and he dropped her hand again.

“I’m not good at this crap. I wanna yell at you some more, but I also don’t,” he said. “‘Nd I know we need to talk, but I am fuckin’ freezing.”

Odette’s eyes moved down his body. His swimwear was very much still damp, and she’d been hogging the shower for gods knew how long. She somehow found a way to feel even worse. Both for leaving him to freeze and for making him feel like he needed to address her confession at the moment. She didn’t even want to. There was too much going on inside her head.

He reached up and wiped away her tear streaks with his thumb, pursing his lips as he did. “You should go lay down. I'll wrap up your ankle when I get out of the shower, a’ight?”

Truthfully, laying down sounded like a really good idea. “Sure,” she agreed.

She probably could have wrapped it herself, but she wasn’t in any position to be protesting him now. The dull, tired ache pulsing through her body was indication enough that she shouldn’t be exerting herself too much anyway.

Without another word, she turned and made her way over to the recliner positioned just adjacent to the couch. Her bones creaked and moaned as she slowly lowered herself into it, bracing for any sudden pain that might come over her if she accidentally brushed against one of her numbed-up stings or bruises. But, she settled into the leather easily, allowing her muscles to relax fully and the exhaustion to take hold.

Sleep arrived faster than it ever had before.

~​

Consciousness returned. The TV was on, and everything hurt again.

She wasn’t sure when she’d ended up on her side or covered in a blanket, but she groaned as she tried to adjust her position. A throbbing sensation in her lower back and legs caused her to grimace, and she sucked her teeth. She guessed the numbing cream had worn off.

“Easy, easy,” Guzma’s voice said. A hand brushed her face. Another rubbed her lower back as if trying to coax the pain out of it. “Go back to sleep, dummy.”

She tried to push herself to sit up, but her hand landed on…Guzma himself. Upon lifting her head, she saw that he’d somehow managed to get himself onto the chair without waking her up and was now acting as her pillow. One of his arms was wrapped loosely around her back, and the other had come to settle on his stomach. His hair was still wet from his shower, and the look he gave her now was far more relaxed and smug.

More importantly, they were together. On the recliner. Cuddling. While she slept.

Blinking slowly at him, she felt heat rush to the tip of her nose. She soon found the feeling to lift her arm and rub her eye, hoping to distract herself somehow.

“How long–?” she started to ask. A crackle of thunder caused the bungalow to shudder, and she did as well.

“‘Bout two hours,” he answered. “Wrapped your ankle up and was gonna take you to the bed, but you looked comfy, so I didn’t have the heart to bother ya.”

She yawned and started to rub at her other eye. She rolled her injured foot slowly, feeling the tightness of the bandage around it. It stung, but not horribly.

“But you wriggled yourself up next to me instead?”

He snickered. “Well, it’s my chair. It’s hella comfy, and we fit on it just fine. You were out cold, so it wasn’t a problem.”

No, it wasn’t. She’d have been okay with it if she were awake or even if the chair weren’t as big as it was. But she wasn’t going to say that. She’d said and done enough already.

Thunder shook the walls again, and Odette glanced toward the TV. The news was on, and it looked like they were talking about the passing storm, but she couldn’t quite register what they were saying. She still wasn’t fully awake and unsure if she would be.

“News says it’s not letting up any time soon, so you might as well knock out again,” Guzma said.

She started to yawn again, cringing as another ache pulsed down her back. “I can just walk to the bed now,” she suggested. “Since I’m up.”

“And I’m tellin’ you ya shouldn’t be. You need to rest, ‘nd you need to stay off that ankle for a bit.”

Exhaling softly, her eyes began to flutter. Arguing in this state of mind would be a bad idea, but she couldn’t quite help herself.

“We don’t need to crowd each other like this, so I can just move,” she said reluctantly. Very reluctantly. But it felt like the polite thing to do.

That got a full-blown chuckle out of him. A real one. The sound of it calmed her nerves considerably, and she nearly fell back to sleep right then and there.

“Nah, I don’t think so. Need to ensure you’re sleeping properly, so I’d rather not leave you alone.”

Odette shot him a sideways glance, taking that as an invite to go on.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Yer stuck with me for a while, got it?”

Her nose felt hot again. Once more, she didn’t feel like she had any grounds to bicker with him, and she made herself stop there. “Got it.”

She hesitantly laid her head back down, but as her cheek settled into his chest and the soft fabric of his hoodie, she felt entirely at ease. As he pushed some of her hair aside, her entire person was engulfed in a feeling of warm contentment. A sense of absolute safety.

It’d been a while since she’d felt that. And having it come from him just made her heart soar.

“I know yer half asleep ‘nd whatever,” he suddenly spoke again, “but I want to let you know that there's a much better way of showing somebody you have a crush on them.”

Odette craned her neck to give him a half-lidded look. She was aching to shut her eyes again, but the statement had sent the slightest jolt of surprise through her core.

“And what is it?” she queried in a drawl.

“Letting ‘em sleep on you,” he replied, the slightest smirk gracing his lips.

She started blinking rapidly, unable to fully process the statement in her fatigued mind. Clearly, the look on her face was humorous to him because his smirk grew.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow. Please try to go back to sleep,” he insisted.

That time, she obliged. After nearly falling to the cold, relentless sea, being wrapped up in his arms, safe from the storm as she dozed off, was exactly where she needed to be. Knowing he wanted her there only made it that much warmer.

Here for Catnip! Let's have some fun.

Oh hey, I love a good romance. With some near-death experiences sprinkled on top like a fine seasoning. There was daydreaming, there was yearning, there was flirting, there was banter, there was cuddling. Can anyone really ask for anything more? I think not.

It was funny because at first, I wasn't sure if Odette was a character I'd forgotten about or an OC, until I remembered tags are a thing. Oops. As someone coming in with no knowledge of your main story, this does a good job establishing the dynamic between Odette and Guzma pretty much immediately. Surfer bro Guzma felt a little odd to me at first, but he does live on Alola, so, I mean, why wouldn't he know how to surf. I didn't get the greatest sense of Odette's personality here, but the little made-up conversations with fake-impressed Guzma were amusing, and there was something touching about her contrition in the back half as well. I imagine she's also expanded upon far more elsewhere and there's quite a bit of context I'm missing out on. As someone who goes out on the water fairly frequently, Odette managing to stand up did raise an eyebrow, but we have no idea how much she's practiced prior, so I suppose it's theoretically possible.

My favorite part was probably the Tentacruel attack. It had this nice balance of tension and even tiny moments of humor that made it entertaining to read. I was reminded, too, of that one fanart of a child approaching a Jellicent, and below water we see blood and limbs as a human male is devoured. Very unnerving. This captured a bit of a similar vibe, I thought.

Another moment I enjoyed--that mix of anger and gentleness displayed by Guzma right after rescuing Odette. It really encapsulates that 'I'm-so-scared-I'm-furious' energy you often see from people in these situations. It would've been easy to make Guzma sound like a lecturing parent or have Odette be ungrateful or come across overly chastened, but instead there's a pretty decent balance struck, I think. And it emphasizes how much people value safety with these sorts of hobbies. Similar to how most pilots will shake their head when they see someone acting reckless up in the air. You quickly learn the value of caution in scenarios that could fast turn lethal.

The speech ticks for Guzma did distract me somewhat. Maybe could've eased back on hanging g's and yers and whatnot, imply that by saying he speaks with a drawl instead of phonetically spelling it out. But that's a personal preference, can see the reasoning behind the decision.

Thank you for sharing! Here's a poem that I thought about while reading:


If only he could touch her,

Her name like an old wish

In the stopped weather of salt

On a snail. He longs to be


Words, juicy as passionfruit

On her tongue. He’d do anything,

Would dance three days & nights

To make the most terrible gods
 

Starlight Aurate

Ad Jesum per Mariam | pfp by kintsugi
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  1. mightyena
  2. psyduck
Hi Sind! I've been wanting to read something of yours for a while, but since WSBS has a number of content warnings that I can't stomach, I looked for something lighter. I'm only vaguely familiar with the universe of WSBS, but since you said this works as a standalone one-shot, I thought I'd give it a try!

Right off the bat, her desire to be complimented by Guzma feels very real: genuinely wanting the admiration of someone you like, and telling yourself that, even if you don't need another person to look out for you and desire you, it still feels nice.

The low-hanging clouds only looked like they were getting closer, and the waves were towering now. Their window of opportunity was closing; he had to have known that.
I sure hope that Odette is an experienced surfer, or at least has a board large enough that's easy to control, because trying to surf in those conditions can easily spell disaster.

As I read on, I get the impression that, no, she isn't an experienced surfer. Oops.

Squaring her shoulders and adjusting her goggles against her head, she ran for the choppy water, ignoring how louder the thunder suddenly sounded.
I've never seen anyone wearing goggles when they surf, even when they train! Is that a thing?

Left foot forward, parallel to the tip of the board.
Do you mean perpendicular to the tip?

Since she's able to pop up on the board, I think she at least must have been surfing a fair number of times, and isn't totally new to it.
Her fingers dug into the slimy tendril, and she ignored the sting against her fingertips as she tried to pry it off.
Saying she ignored the stings of the Tentacruel tendril feels pretty extreme--people who have been stung by jellyfish don't really say they just "ignore" the pain, since it hurts like hell, but that they fight through it to keep their attention on whatever the urgent matter at hand is.

She didn’t hesitate to claw as hard as she could, and she drew blood in the process.
Her blood, or the Tentacruel's blood? If it's the Tentacuel, is it a headcannon that your Tentacruel have blood? Just curious since iirc one of the Pokedex entries says their body is 98% water, and in real life, jellyfish don't have blood, so it was just a bit jarring to read.

With a swift yank, it swung her downward, and her back hit the floor.
OW. I've been tossed on reefs before, and it HURTS.

It had to have been fire coral. Guzma had warned her about it when she initially agreed to surf with him. But he’d also said it was in the deeper water and that she probably wouldn’t need to worry about it.
Ugh Guzma whyyyyy. Where I live, fire coral can even be found in the shallows, and that baby STINGS when it touches you.

The near-drowning scene felt a bit slow to me. I like that you describe the painful stings of Tentacruel and fire coral, but some of the descriptions almost felt a bit too much for how urgent and dramatic the scene is supposed to be. For example,

The burn from the fire coral and from whatever sting that tentacle had given her was nothing compared to the ache of saltwater in her human lungs. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it, and she realized that as her consciousness started to fade.
Calling the urge to breathe an "ache" feels a little underwhelming (in my near-drowning experiences, it's more of a spasmic, desperate burning, especially when you're trying to breathe the water in). And saying that she "realized" her consciousness started to fade feels a bit much; I feel it would be more appropriate to just describe the consciousness fading (which you do well in the next paragraph) since, with her being in the excruciating amount of pain she is in now, I think she'd be feeling more than actively thinking.

I feel like your writing can be a bit wordy throughout; I know you said you don't intend to go back and edit this, but I thought I'd just point out an example to show you what I'm referring to:

He was right about that. The feeling of fresh water washing over her dry, scratchy tongue was the equivalent to pure bliss. She’d downed more than half of it when she finally stopped chugging.
Instead of saying the "equivalent to pure bliss," just saying "pure bliss" would've been fine.

As she rolled onto her side, the seawater came up in gushes, tearing through her throat and intensifying her sputtering.

But, at least, she could breathe.
Ugh, I feel that. Trying to breathe and just having the constant stinging pain of saltwater SUCKS.

Okay, as I read more, it looks like Odette is pretty much blind without her glasses. Is that why she wore goggles when surfing earlier?

“I was trying…trying to impress you…” she managed between weak gasps. "And you were...dragging ass."
:mewlulz:

And the ending was sweet! I'm not much for romantic cuddly scenes, so I don't have any feedback to offer, but it was cute. I definitely enjoyed the part of Odette trying to surf in a storm--I'm a sucker for action sequences, especially when they take place in the water :p Seeing her risk herself for the sake of a crush and thinking with her heart instead of her head was painful, if understandable.

I thought Guzma's reaction to Odette endangering herself was also believable: being so concerned that it goes straight into rage, especially when she got herself in that situation and she didn't need to. Once she told him that she did it out of a desire to impress him, I imagine that he also felt a bit of guilt and sadness, too.

Overall, this was a cute one-shot! I think your strength here is certainly the character interaction scenes: everything flowed together pretty well between Guzma and Odette. And I felt like I was able to follow along reasonably well despite not having read WSBS. Thanks for sharing!
 

love

Memento mori
Pronouns
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  1. leafeon
Hey, I tried to read more WSBS a while ago, but I started feeling really bad for Enora, so I had to stop. I can still read this, though, which is good, because I've been thinking I should read/write more romance stuff (oxytocin good). Anyway, it's quite cute. I wish my first drafts were this good. All the same, I will point out a couple parts that might be worth tweaking.

It wouldn’t be good for their repertoire of constantly one-upping each other, and she’d never hear the end of it.

I don't think "repertoire" is quite the right word. I'm not sure whether there's a single word that fits; the sentence might need to be rephrased slightly.

Odette shot him a sideways glance, taking that as an invite to go on.

To go on with what? I didn't quite get the intent of this sentence.

She might have not noticed if she weren’t as observant as she was.

It feels like either Odette or the narrator is congratulating her on her observational skills, which doesn't feel appropriate here. Plus those skills are probably blunted right now.

I sensed the shape of this story after the first few paragraphs, though I figured Odette would just tumble and hurt herself or something instead of almost drowning. Her deciding to surf (which the narration implies she doesn't have much experience doing) alone on the cusp of a storm to impress her crush and totally screwing up struck me as not only the most natural course for the story to take, but also as the most Odette-y outcome possible. I like how she mocks herself for her feelings in a very in-character way even if that mockery fails to overpower the folly of love. I appreciate that she's *still* sassing Guzma even after almost dying—but nonetheless eventually has to admit she fucked up.

This is the first I have seen you write Guzma, and one gets the sense he's sassy too, even if we don't see it as much in this story as we might normally. He handles things pretty well here. He speaks his mind. He's angry; he probably should be. But mostly he's relieved.

You could open a can of rockruff food and I’d be fucking impressed, are you kidding me?

If Odette weren't so tired, this might have been the point where she suspected her crush had been reciprocated.

She started blinking rapidly, unable to process the statement in her fatigued mind. Clearly, the look on her face was humorous to him because his smirk grew.

I'm kinda smirking with him lol.

Overall, I am reminded that I like Odette and thought this was a cute little story (aside from the near-drowning, but that was mercifully not too detailed).
 

Spiteful Murkrow

Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
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  1. nidoran-f
  2. druddigon
  3. swellow
  4. quilava-fobbie
  5. sneasel-kate
Oh hey, a one-shot set during the same continuity of WSBS, just further down the pipe. I’m not fully sure what to expect from this, but I did get it for Catnip and it was on my radar to review anyways this Review Blitz, so let’s go ahead, then:

Odette dug her foot into the sand as the thunder rumbled in the distance. He was taking too long. The waves were getting higher and higher, and surely a downpour wasn’t that far off. The longer she stood there, clutching to her stupid surfboard, the more agitated she was getting.

“One minute, my ass,” she said through clenched teeth as a wave tumbled into the shoreline, sending the murky Alolan waters up around her ankles.

There was already a pre-storm chill in the air, which felt no colder than Kalos in the early fall. Familiar. Even a little comforting. However, the water hit like an Ice Beam, sending a chill up through her calves and into her spine. Guzma had said the water would be cold, but not that cold.

As a minor nitpick thing, but I kinda wonder if the underlined ‘He’ there works better as ‘Guzma’ and I hacked the second paragraph into two. Though this is way down the pipe of WSBS’ chronology, huh? Since IIRC the main plot hasn’t gotten out of Kalos yet.

Still, she wasn’t about to back out. She was still sticking to her guns that this was a dumb idea—because being anywhere near the ocean during an oncoming storm was simply asking for a shitty time—but she wasn’t about to back down from a challenge. Especially not from Guzma. It wouldn’t be good for their repertoire of constantly one-upping each other, and she’d never hear the end of it.

Had… Odette even surfed at all by the time WSBS’ events made it into their first chapter? Since I don’t ever recall the story hinting at it, and now here she is going straight into treacherous waves.
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She’d much rather hear what would come out of it when they were done.

Careful what you wish for, Odette…

Damn ‘Dette, you fuckin’ shredded that! I didn’t think you’d be up to it, but that was wicked cool!

bender-laughing.gif


Let’s not even get into how one of the CWs for this story is a near-drowning. My money’s not on Guzma being the one who goes through that, just saying.

The blush that took form on the tip of her nose quickly spread across her face, and she had half a mind to stick her head in the next oncoming wave to put it out. Maybe she’d drown in the process so she wouldn’t have to keep subjecting herself to this stupid crush.

Again, careful what you wish for, Odette…

She supposed it wasn’t bad to admit that she liked it when he complimented her. Not the backhanded ones that he liked to toss out when they were reaming each other, but the real ones that slipped out every so often. The ones he gave where he genuinely smiled, and the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly. He had a nice smile. A cute one.

Of course, that wasn’t to say she needed the compliments. She knew full well that she was an able-bodied and capable human, but…it was nice to have that attention from him. Once in a while, of course.

No, she absolutely needs those compliments, since I’ve seen what Odette is like in early WSBS, so…
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Another quake of thunder caused the sand under her bare feet to vibrate, effectively ending her sugarcoated train of thought and bringing her back to her annoyance. She wasn’t sure what Team Skull’s definition of a minute was, but hers wasn’t the same.

Ah yes, surfing while there’s lightning strikes going on. Could you two be tempting fate any harder right now?
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The low-hanging clouds only looked like they were getting closer, and the waves were towering now. Their window of opportunity was closing; he had to have known that.

She had half a mind to stomp up to his shack and drag him back by his ear if she had to. She was quickly starting to lose her nerve and didn’t want to be accused of chickening out. Not accepting the challenge was bad enough, but backing out on the precipice of completion was even worse.

Yeah, this definitely feels very Odette. I wonder if she also gets herself into perfectly fine and manageable™ situations in WSBS proper like this.

Besides, she was holding her breath for a congratulatory hug. Maybe he’d even wrap his towel around her while they ran for the cover of his home as the rain came down, and—

She squeezed her eyes shut. She was getting way too ahead of herself. Surfing storm waves would prove much harder if all she could think about was hugging him in the rain, like a wistful soap opera girl. Idiotic.

So… where’s the shrine full of Guzma pictures in this girl’s room? Since I feel like we’re halfway to getting the existence of one confirmed. :P

However, that got her thinking. He might not have been there now to swim out with her, but imagine if he’d come back out to see she’d gone off and done it herself? No training wheels from Golisopod; just her. All by herself, with no issues. Guzma would eat all of those playful taunts he gave her while initially teaching her how to surf. Maybe he’d even be super impressed.

You’re a fuckin’ madlad! That was so sick!

a.k.a. Tell me that things aren’t going to end well without telling me that things aren’t going to end well. ^^;

Odette pursed her lips despite herself, carefully glancing over her shoulder toward his house. This was the stupid girl crush talking, and she knew that perfectly well. She knew this was a bad idea even with Guzma being an experienced surfer, but her by herself? She could swim, and she could hold her balance, but these weren’t anything like the waves that had been crashing down on Hau’oli beach. This was the real deal. The big time.

Bitch, I could kiss you right now.

She frowned. This was stupid.

Oh yeah, like that’s gonna stop you, Odette. :V

But if she could impress him, it might be worth it for a few minutes. Worst case scenario, she had a wipeout and swam back to shore. She wasn’t going that far out anyway.

Odette, don’t make me break out that Futurama gif again.

Squaring her shoulders and adjusting her goggles against her head, she ran for the choppy water, ignoring how much louder the thunder suddenly sounded.

The most difficult part was getting used to the freezing temperatures. Even wearing her long-sleeved top, the chill still managed to drill through the material and prickled against her skin. Her teeth chattered involuntarily, though that might have also been because of her sudden adrenaline spike.

Her energy levels surged as she fought through the rolling waves, eager to find a good spot to ride one back in. It needed to be one good one, just at the right time for Guzma to see her. If he was going to drag ass doing whatever the fuck it was he was doing, he was going to have to settle with watching her be cool without him. She briefly smirked at the thought before being punched with another fist of salt water.

The second paragraph here IMO works better cut into two pieces.

By the time her body had gotten used to the chill, she’d made it several yards out. She had difficulty gauging just how far she’d gone with how the ocean swelled and heaved around her, but it looked like a solid distance. She couldn’t see any movement on the shore, which meant Guzma’s dumbass wasn’t back yet. She wasn’t sure how long she could tread water on the board before being forced back in, but if the clouds were any indication, it would be sooner rather than later.

As that thought occurred to her, she sunk into a deep trough. She craned her neck to look over her shoulder, just in time to catch the sight of a crest looming far higher than she was used to seeing. That would have to be it. If she let that wave slide, she was going under. With an agitated grunt, she leaned over the board and started paddling back toward the shore.

Odette: “Here goes nothing…”

The water swelled behind her, and just when it felt like she might flip forward, she pushed herself up to stand and situated herself into that side stance. Left foot forward, perpendicular to the tip of the board. Right foot back, at a slight angle. Arms out, but not too much. Legs bent into a partial squat. She only had a second to ensure she was standing correctly before leaning into the wave to catch the ride.

When she didn’t immediately go upside down, a sense of pride took form within her. She didn’t have enough time to enjoy it because all of her attention was going toward her balance. Staying upright. Feeling the water droplets hit her as she ripped through the sea, back toward the safety of the sand. More thunder harmonized with the ocean's roar, and Odette felt herself grin again.

Odette, just saying, in stories this is normally the sort of thing that characters do right before-

She was doing it. She was really–

Her entire world flipped, board and all.

Yeah, that.

Upon hitting the water, the waves overtook her, tossing her back and forth like a ball. It took her a few seconds to register that she had fallen, but she made for the surface once she did. The sea did its best to keep her from getting there, but even in its violent state, it was no match for the strength of her legs.

I wonder how much of that is courtesy of Odette’s little friend chilling inside her.

Odette gasped for air as her head poked out of the water. She didn’t get much before another wave washed over her, sending her into a coughing fit. She could feel the strap of the board still wrapped around her ankle, and she knew she needed to get back on it.

She’d be furious if she had the brainpower to feel anything more. With the weather, with the ocean, with herself. So much for trying to show off for Guzma. She sincerely hoped he hadn’t seen that.

He totally saw it, didn’t he?

Stupid idea, she thought.

As her hands brushed the surfboard, she braced herself to get back on it. Her mind briefly started to wander toward thoughts of a hot shower and curling up in bed under her weighted blanket. If she got anything out of this, it would be a good night’s sleep, that was for damn sure.

All certainty fled, however, when something else wrapped around her free leg, sending a searing jolt up through her bones.

Did… Odette just get struck by lightning there? .-.

She barely had a chance to scream before it jerked her back into the murky gray. It pulled with such force, the strap that tethered her to the board snapped like a weak thread. She tried to grab it in a last-ditch effort to protect herself, but it was no use. No surfboard could have saved her from whatever was yanking her toward the ocean floor.

Well then. I guess something grabbed Odette in the water there.

As she tore through the water, she could turn her head enough to catch sight of what exactly was out to kill her. Her eyes landed on a blue, mushroom-shaped head. Red bulges adorned the bell of it, and its yellow tentacles splayed out in its wake as it glided through the murky ocean.

A fucking tentacruel. That explained the unending sting.

Well, at least it’s not getting struck by lightning? Though yeah, this is pretty bad right now. ^^;

Her brain began spinning in circles as she tried to figure out a way out of the situation. So many thoughts passed through her head that she couldn’t formulate anything else coherent.

I can’t breathe, my ankle, I need to get back…

Odette: “Venira, any time would be nice now…” >_>;

She kicked her legs as if that alone would get the thing to let go of her. The pressure was building inside her chest, slowly but surely becoming a burn. The last time she’d had a breath-holding contest with Plumeria, she’d managed about a minute and forty-five seconds before giving in. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been under, but the urge to gasp let her know she was nearing her limit.

In desperation, she reached for her caught leg, pawing her way down until she found her ankle. Her fingers dug into the slimy tendril, and she pushed herself through the unbearable sting against her fingertips as she tried to pry it off. She didn’t hesitate to claw as hard as she could. No use in being gentle when the tentacruel was being so violent with her to begin with.

Odette: “Venira! Seriously! Some of that power would be really handy at the moment!”
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As she got her fingers between her skin and the tentacle, it suddenly tightened on her. The tentacruel was not keen on her getting away.

With a swift yank, it swung her downward, and her back hit the floor.

Odette: “Well crap.”
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She wasn’t sure what felt worse: the feeling of her bare skin being dragged along the coral or the seawater that filled her mouth as she involuntarily tried to gasp for air. She felt her free leg graze something, leading to another burning sensation. She soon felt the same feeling in her lower back. And somewhere against her wrist.

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Yeeeeeeeah, I don’t think that Odette’s going to be surfing again anytime soon after this.

It had to have been fire coral. Guzma had warned her about it when she initially agreed to surf with him. But he’d also said it was in the deeper water and that she probably wouldn’t need to worry about it.

She let out a shriek that was muffled by the sea, and she watched helplessly as her bubbles floated to the surface without her.

- Meanwhile in Odette’s head -
Odette: “Venira! For fuck’s sake! I’m going to die here!
401074476474957834.webp

Venira: “I mean, that’s more of a ‘you’ problem, now isn’t it? Also, we need to avoid spoilers for people who haven’t been reading our main story.”
476581281094828033.webp


She remembered arguing with Noel about the worst way to die: drowning or burning alive. She had insisted that it was burning alive, but Noel was adamant that it was drowning. At the time, she simply couldn’t get on board with it.

The burn from the fire coral and from whatever sting that tentacle had given her was nothing compared to the stabbing pain of saltwater in her human lungs. There was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it, either.

Everything…hurts...

Can’t tell if that friend of Odette’s is finally going to help out, or if we’re going to need to wait on Guzma to come in and save the day.

She’d always felt that she would die in pain, but she never thought it would be like this. At the tendrils of a fucking tentacruel because she decided to think with her stupid girl crush and not her actual brain.

BOOM.

The tightness released from her ankle following a flash of light that struck the tentacruel’s head.

Whelp, time to get our answer really fast.

Nothing felt real anymore, so she couldn’t tell where it had come from. She felt both weightless and heavy as her eyes slipped shut, and the blackness that engulfed her started to provide some relief from the suffocation. All feelings began to fade away as she slowly drifted into nonexistence. All that was left was the acceptance that this was how it would end.

There was her peace.

Finally.

Venira:
giphy.gif

“You’re not getting out of our story together that easily, Odette.”

With a frenzied cough, she jolted upright.

Sparks of pain ignited all over her person, causing her stomach to heave. As she rolled onto her side, the seawater came up in gushes, tearing through her throat and intensifying her sputtering.

But, at least she could breathe.

Odette: “Blurgh… where the hell am I right now?”
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She could breathe.

“...dette!”

Her blood pounding against her eardrums made it almost impossible to hear. A noise that felt reminiscent of static also filled her head, occasionally interrupted by a rumble.

The numbness of unconsciousness faded, and she realized just how cold she was. The pain and urge to vomit aside, all warmth had vacated her body. She was shivering uncontrollably before she'd even gotten feeling back in her body.

“Odette!”

Wait, isn’t this implying that it wasn’t Guzma that came to her rescue there?

The familiarity of the voice was calming. Her muscles relaxed, leaving her limp against the soaked beach sand. As she forced herself onto her back again, she could see through her waning vision that it was pouring. The sky had become so black she could barely make out Guzma’s terrified frown through the deluge.

Odette grimaced as she tried to get her vocal cords to work.

“Hi,” she managed in a jagged wheeze.

Odette: “So, uh… I get points for effort for trying to surf back there, right?” ^^;

“What the fuck is wrong with you?]!” Guzma screamed. The bass in his voice managed to carry over the hammering of the rain. “I told you to wait for me! I told you to wait for me!

His body hung over hers, and his blazing gold eyes bore into her soul. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe again.

Oh, so Guzma likes Odette himself, huh?

“You could have drowned, do you fucking know that?!” he continued. She couldn’t tell if his voice was trembling or if it was an effect of the downpour. “That tentacruel damn well could have killed you! What the actual fuck were you thinking?!

IMO, Guzma’s dialogue works a bit better if it’s more “shouty” at this moment, since it plays more into the idea of “agitated screaming and ranting”.

Her throat was on fire. Saltwater still coated her tongue, leaving it feeling dry. It was a wonder she was able to speak again. “I was…I was trying to show you…”

“Show me what? That you’re an idiot? That you’re fucking braindead?

youknow-you.gif


He was yelling at her. His teeth were bared like he normally bared them when he was getting ready to throw a punch. He was livid.

And yet, his shaking hands caressed her face with such tenderness he might as well have been trying to lull her to sleep.

Odette: “Talk about the definition of mixed messages there.” @.@

“I was trying…trying to impress you…” she managed between weak gasps. "And you were...dragging ass."

Even with the rain clouding most of her vision, she could see how his jaw clenched. He furrowed his brow, but his eyes remained wide with rage. “Are you twelve? Are we in fucking high school?”

She didn’t have a good answer for that.

Odette… gets into her fair share of moments like these in WSBS, doesn’t she? Since I distinctly remember that even with where I left off in that story, that she had a bit of a petty side to her.
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"Assflash newshole; I was trying to find the damn repellent," he hissed.

Of course he was.

“And I don’t need you to impress me. I’m always fucking impressed with you. What the hell is trying to get yourself killed going to show me?”

Odette:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5vd5cE3n0M

“Wait, you are?
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All she could do at that point was shake her head. “I…I don’t…”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one between us! You can’t be doing this shit, you can’t be,” his breath hitched, causing his voice to crack,“ scaring the fucking shit out of me like that, you stupid dumbass motherfucking…”

Okay, yeah. Guzma does like Odette in this setting. I can see those words in his dialogue, just saying.

His teeth were clenched as he hugged her to his chest. Tight enough for it to feel secure but not hard enough to where she couldn’t breathe. Through her numbness, she could feel his face settle into the crook of her neck. His breaths felt shallow and ragged against her, but he was able to right himself rather quickly. Quicker than he normally did, at least.

“Are you okay?” he finally said into her ear. There was a newfound gentleness to his voice. It sounded like all the anger had faded away entirely.

Odette:
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“Though I wouldn’t mind you just staying here like this for a bit.”

Odette swallowed hard, cringing through the searing dryness in her throat. “My ankle,” she croaked. It stung the worst.

That was all he needed to hear. He tucked his arms under her quivering legs and looped them around his waist before standing up, then jogged away from the beach, through the grass, and up the steps of his bungalow.

“I’ve got a first aid kit,” he muttered, tightening his hold on her legs. “Golisopod’s handling the fucking tentacruel. You’re gonna be fine.”

Well, fine™, since unless there’s some things that canonically change before whenever this occurs in WSBS, Odette has some things about her that are very, very much not fine which I presume we won’t be getting into here since they’re pretty big spoilers for your main story.

Even sitting underneath a stream of steaming water, Odette still felt herself shaking.

She sat on the bathtub floor with her head between her knees, letting the shower run over her. Guzma had done well in applying the stun spore numbing cream he had on hand because none of her stings or scrapes flared up under the water’s heat. Her ankle still pulsed with a dull ache every now and again, but it was mostly manageable for the moment.

Odette: “Well, at least I got to have my moment with Guzma? Even if I was too busy being semi-lucid and in agony to really make the most of it.” ^^;

Her eyes fluttered with threatening sleep as she relished in the warm feeling. She’d just come out of unconsciousness, and yet her body was chasing it all over again. All she wanted to do now was lay down. And chug a gallon of sparkling water. She couldn’t describe how thirsty she’d gotten since setting foot in the tub, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. The warmth felt too good. It helped remind her that she was somehow still alive.

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Ah yes, that’s the Odette we all know and love from WSBS.

She was alive, and Guzma was fuming. He had every right to be and then some.

Odette wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but she eventually turned the faucet off and stood up, showing care to her stung ankle. There was enough steam in the small bathroom that she wasn’t met with more unrelenting cold as she slowly stepped out onto the bath mat. Through her blurred vision, she could see the shape of a towel sitting on the sink. A heap of dark-colored colored blobs sat next to it, which she assumed would be her new outfit for the time being. She pawed it and was relieved to feel her regular glasses sitting on top of the pile. She quickly put them on, only to see that the blobs were indeed clothes. Guzma's clothes.

How the fuck is this going to work?

She’s just going to stop for a moment to smell them, isn’t she? Since if she went through all of this just to try and impress Guzma, he’s clearly taken up a large chunk of her mindspace there.

Upon pulling the garments onto her dried body, she got her answer. The shirt hung like a dress, and its sleeves covered both of her hands entirely. The shorts were a little easier to fit due to the drawstrings, and her wide hips seemed to fill them out a little better. Not by much, though. She still had to pull the strings as tight as they would go, and she even tucked the hem of the shirt into the waistband for good measure. However, despite the ridiculous sizing, she was very comfortable. The most comfortable she’d been since coming inside, anyway.

Ah, so shorts really are comfy and easy to wear, even in the world of WSBS.

Draping the towel over her shoulders, she approached the door and placed her hands on it. After a moment's hesitation, she pushed it open.

She didn’t know where Guzma was going to be and was shocked to find that he was sitting on the floor next to the door. His head lifted abruptly at the sound of her footsteps, and he looked relieved to see her.

“Shit, I was getting ready to go in there,” he huffed, pushing his wet hair back. He’d yet to change out of his bathing suit. “You good? Clothes alright?”

Odette: “Um… yes, shockingly enough.” ^///^

She nodded once. “I was just cold. Shower felt great.” Her voice sounded scratchy against her wrecked throat. “And they’re fine. Wouldn’t expect you to have midget-sized stuff on hand anyway.”

That should have made him laugh. When it didn’t, she grimaced to herself. He just silently pushed himself to his feet.

“And you're positive you can breathe? You don’t feel lightheaded or anything?”

Odette: “... Wait, just how close was I to dying back there anyways?” .-.
Guzma: “You waking up and immediately barfing up water wasn’t a giant hint that it was really fucking close?”
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Odette sighed softly, shaking her head. “I said it was just my ankle,” she replied, causing him to scoff.

“Yeah, ‘nd wet lung ‘nd dry drowning are still shit that can happen. I’ve got half a mind to run you down to the clinic anyway.

That would be wise, really. Especially since Odette had chunks of her skin torn up by getting dragged across corals.

“Could Golisopod even get down to the main roads in this weather? Where is he even?"

His gaze on her was unrelenting. Hard, yet…concerned. He was supposed to at least chuckle at that comment too, and once again, he remained stone-faced. She was starting to shrivel internally.

“In his ball, sleeping off that fight. We’d figure it out, but I think you've had enough dangerous bullshit for the night,” he said coldly. It sent a bolt of metaphorical ice through her.

Odette: “Dammit, so much for having a cute moment between us this fic.”
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With that, he brushed past her and out into the kitchen area. He expected her to follow because he glanced back at her before he made it to the counter, where a water bottle was already sitting. He picked it up and handed it to her as she limped behind him.

“Drink. No doubt you're dehydrated as all hell.”

Odette: “What are you, my mom?” >_>;
Guzma: “Just do it, Odette.”

He was right about that. The feeling of fresh water washing over her dry, scratchy tongue was pure bliss. She’d downed more than half of it when she finally stopped chugging.

“Thanks,” she muttered, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

“Mm.”

Odette was certain she felt like she didn’t have any seawater left in her system, yet her chest and stomach churned like there might have been.

That’s… probably the Tentacruel poison still acting up, just saying.

She made herself take another short sip. “So we can’t get to the main roads, but what are the odds of me getting home?” she asked sarcastically.

He finally laughed. But it was harsh. It bit at her nerves.

“Storm’s only gotten worse since you got in the shower,” he said. “You're not going anywhere in this. You can have my bed; I’ll sleep on the recliner.”

Well, if nothing else, you can’t say that WSBS!Guzma isn’t the chivalrous type.

“Guz–”

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it,” he snapped. “And as soon as the storm lets up, we’re going to an urgent care.”

She cringed. “I told you—”

“And I told you to fucking wait for me.”

Odette: “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?” ._.;

Her mouth felt dry again. Any other words she had in mind vanished, and her grip on the bottle tightened. Tears balled up at the corners of her eyes, and she hoped with all she had that he couldn’t see them before she looked away.

He was right, and she knew that. No amount of poorly-timed jokes and derisive quips would make that go away.

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Well, that’s certainly a mood, even if I suppose we still have a chunk of this one-shot left to turn things around.

She was stupid. Braindead, as he said. All of this strife and a near-death experience over her stupid girl crush. When the hell was she going to learn that nothing good came out of her thinking with anything but her brain?

She swallowed hard, her expression unwavering through the pain. “You did,” she croaked.

Another sip. She wasn’t feeling thirsty anymore, but at least it gave her something to do as she struggled not to look at him. She could feel his eyes digging holes into the side of her face as she kept her gaze trained on the floor. Even as he pushed himself off the counter and walked over to her, she dared not look in his direction. Not until he pulled her into a hug.

Well, that’s a fast start of a turnaround if I ever saw one.

Guzma: “... Though I’m not brushing up too hard against those scrapes left behind from those corals, am I?” ^^;

His arms had always been just as hard as they looked, but he somehow managed to make his hugs so gentle. Even when she probably didn’t deserve it.

She sniffled deeply as a tear fell down her cheek, and she felt him bury his face in her hair.

“I'm so fucking mad at you,” he murmured.

“I know,” she replied in a whisper. “I’m mad at me too.

And there’s our cute moment between these two. And not a moment too soon given how glum the mood was getting there.

His arms tensed ever so slightly, and she tensed with him.

“You know how long I was beating on your chest?” he asked. The weight behind that question nearly pulled her down to the floor. Thankfully, he was holding her up quite nicely. When she didn’t respond, he went on.

“Over a minute. Sixty-five seconds. Kept looking at my watch.”

… How did Odette not have multiple ribs broken from that? Or I suppose she very well could’ve and that’s the reason why Guzma is so adamant that they go to the hospital as soon as the weather stops sucking so bad. ^^;

Another tear joined the first, and she closed her eyes.

“You weren’t moving, and I didn’t think you were gonna.”

The words were obviously painful for him to say. That time, he tightened his grip on her.

“I thought you died, O. You weren’t moving.

Yeah, that would explain a lot about how mad Guzma was earlier at Odette attempting to play things down. Since things were just genuinely that bad.

There were no words for that. She tried to find them anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she heaved.

Guzma scoffed loudly before reaching up to grasp her shoulders. He pushed her just far enough away to look down at her, but not enough to where he couldn’t still hold her.

“I’m not asking you to be sorry,” he retorted, his forehead hovering above hers. “I just wanna know what the fuck possessed you to do that. All for something as dumb as trying to impress me? You could open a can of rockruff food and I’d be fucking impressed, are you kidding me?

I mean, she does have a literal demon inside of her, but no, that was all her and her crush on you there. :P

His eyes narrowed in disbelief, and he shook her gingerly. Like he was trying to get something out of her. “‘Dette, what?

Odette couldn’t consciously think of a good response. A logical response. Because there wasn’t one. She stood before him, mindlessly shaking her head before any semblance of a sentence came to form.

“Crushes make people do,” her voice broke, causing another tear to slip, “stupid shit.”

Well, at least she’s definitely honest there. Though time to see how Guzma takes this.

She watched as Guzma’s expression fell. His jaw went slack, and he dipped his head toward his chest as a sigh fell out of him. That wasn’t how she wanted to tell him, but that didn’t matter anymore. All bets were off right now.

He went a while without saying anything, and if Odette were in any other state of mind, she might have panicked. But she had exhausted all of her ability to panic on nearly drowning at the hands tendrils of a hunting tentacruel.

Odette: “I… shouldn’t have said that out loud, should I?”
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When he eventually grasped her stung hand in his, she jumped. He took it between his meaty hands and examined the sting marks on her fingers. They were the first of her injuries that he’d slathered the numbing cream on, so they currently weren’t causing her any excess pain. She only felt a comforting warmth as he laced his fingers with hers and held her knuckles to his lips.

“D…do shit that’s gonna keep you warm and breathing,” he said. “Don’t give me something else to have nightmares about, please.

That’s going to be a bit hard considering Odette’s… well everything that she’s up to in WSBS and presumably also in the backdrop of this one-shot.

Her brain stalled on the feel of him talking against her skin, but she was able to jumpstart herself with a short nod. “I wouldn’t…” she tried to respond. “I wouldn’t…want to.”

Guzma took to looking at her fingers again. Something about the sting marks had him enthralled. Another sigh sounded from him, and he dropped her hand again.

“I’m not good at this crap. I wanna yell at you some more, but I also don’t,” he said. “And I know we need to talk, but I am fucking freezing.”

I mean, living in an abandoned house that IIRC has no power canonically can’t possibly help with that.

Odette’s eyes moved down his body. His swimwear was very much still damp, and she’d been hogging the shower for gods knew how long. She somehow found a way to feel even worse. Both for leaving him to freeze and for making him feel like he needed to address her confession at the moment. She didn’t even want to. There was too much going on inside her head.

He reached up and wiped away her tear streaks with his thumb, pursing his lips as he did. “You should go lay down. I'll wrap up your ankle when I get out of the shower, a’ight?”

Truthfully, laying down sounded like a really good idea. “Sure,” she agreed.

Odette: “Since… yeah, now that I think about it, I probably shouldn’t even be standing considering half the shit that Tentacruel put me through, huh?”
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She probably could have wrapped it herself, but she wasn’t in any position to be protesting him now. The dull, tired ache pulsing through her body was indication enough that she shouldn’t be exerting herself too much anyway.

Oh, so even the story itself is basically confirming the point.

Without another word, she turned and made her way over to the recliner positioned just adjacent to the couch. Her bones creaked and moaned as she slowly lowered herself into it, bracing for any sudden pain that might come over her if she accidentally brushed against one of her numbed-up stings or bruises. But, she settled into the leather easily, allowing her muscles to relax fully and the exhaustion to take hold.

Sleep arrived faster than it ever had before.

Wonder if we’re going to get another shout at Odette to go to the actual bed or if Guzma will just leave her to be sleeping beauty in his intended sleeping place.

Consciousness returned. The TV was on, and everything hurt again.

She wasn’t sure when she’d ended up on her side or covered in a blanket, but she groaned as she tried to adjust her position. A throbbing sensation in her lower back and legs caused her to grimace, and she sucked her teeth. She guessed the numbing cream had worn off.

“Easy, easy,” Guzma’s voice said. A hand brushed her face. Another rubbed her lower back as if trying to coax the pain out of it. “Go back to sleep, idiot.”

Odette: “Wait, you were applying numbing cream to me in my sleep?”
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Guzma: “Well, yeah. Did you expect me to just wait until you woke up so that way you could feel miserable through the entire experience?”

She tried to push herself to sit up, but her hand landed on…Guzma himself. Upon lifting her head, she saw that he’d somehow managed to get himself onto the chair without waking her up and was now acting as her pillow. One of his arms was wrapped loosely around her back, and the other had come to settle on his stomach. His hair was still wet from his shower, and the look he gave her now was far more relaxed and smug.

More importantly, they were together. On the recliner. Cuddling. While she slept.

Odette: “(Okay, yeah. As shit as I’m feeling right now, this was totally worth it.)” ^^;

Blinking slowly at him, she felt heat rush to the tip of her nose. She soon found the feeling to lift her arm and rub her eye, hoping to distract herself somehow.

“How long–?” she started to ask. A crackle of thunder caused the bungalow to shudder, and she did as well.

“‘Bout two hours,” he answered. “Wrapped your ankle up and was gonna take you to the bed, but you looked comfy, so I didn’t have the heart to bother you.”

Guzma: “I mean, since you’re awake, I can take you now-”
Odette: “No, no. This is perfectly fine right now.” ^^;

She yawned and started to rub at her other eye. She rolled her injured foot slowly, feeling the tightness of the bandage around it. It stung, but not horribly.

“But you wriggled yourself up next to me instead?”

He snickered. “Well, it’s my chair. It’s hella comfy, and we fit on it just fine. You were out cold, so it wasn’t a problem.”

Yeah, Guzma really likes Odette, since there was no way that this was done entirely because he thought she looked comfy in his recliner.

No, it wasn’t. She’d have been okay with it if she were awake or even if the chair weren’t as big as it was. But she wasn’t going to say that. She’d said and done enough already.

Thunder shook the walls again, and Odette glanced toward the TV. The news was on, and it looked like they were talking about the passing storm, but she couldn’t quite register what they were saying. She still wasn’t fully awake and unsure if she would be.

inb4 it’s some foreshadowing for WSBS’ later events.

“News says it’s not letting up any time soon, so you might as well knock out again,” Guzma said.

Oooooor it could be that. That works, too.

She started to yawn again, cringing as another ache pulsed down her back. “I can just walk to the bed now,” she suggested. “Since I’m up.”

“And I’m telling you you shouldn’t be. You need to rest, ‘nd you need to stay off that ankle for a bit.”

He’s right, you know. Besides, are you really implying you don’t like this state of affairs better, Odette? :P

Exhaling softly, her eyes began to flutter. Arguing in this state of mind would be a bad idea, but she couldn’t quite help herself.

“We don’t need to crowd each other like this, so I can just move,” she said reluctantly. Very reluctantly. But it felt like the polite thing to do.

Yeah, I can already hear her whispering “please say ‘no’” under her breath in live-time.

That got a full-blown chuckle out of him. A real one. The sound of it calmed her nerves considerably, and she nearly fell back to sleep right then and there.

“Nah, I don’t think so. Need to ensure you’re sleeping properly, so I’d rather not leave you alone.”

Odette shot him a sideways glance, and he took that as an invite to go on.

“I’m not going anywhere. You're stuck with me for a while, got it?”

Odette: “Wouldn’t want it any other way, really.” ^^;

Her nose felt hot again. Once more, she didn’t feel like she had any grounds to bicker with him, and she stopped there. “Got it.”

She hesitantly laid her head back down, but as her cheek settled into his chest and the soft fabric of his hoodie, she felt entirely at ease. As he pushed some of her hair aside, her entire person was engulfed with warm contentment. A sense of absolute safety.

It’d been a while since she’d felt that. And having it come from him just made her heart soar.

Oh, so whenever things from WSBS catch up to this point, some stuff’s going to get very real, huh? Since it sounds like Odette hasn’t had much of a break up until whenever this oneshot occurs.


“I know you're half asleep ‘nd whatever,” he suddenly spoke again, “but I want to let you know that there's a much better way of showing somebody you have a crush on them.”

Odette craned her neck to give him a half-lidded look. She was aching to shut her eyes again, but the statement had sent the slightest jolt of surprise through her core.

“And what is it?” she queried in a drawl.

“Letting ‘em sleep on you,” he replied, the slightest smirk gracing his lips.

I mean, is he wrong? ^^;

She started blinking rapidly, unable to process the statement in her fatigued mind. Clearly, the look on her face was humorous to him because his smirk grew.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow. Please try to go back to sleep,” he insisted.

That time, she obliged. After nearly falling to the cold, relentless sea, being wrapped up in his arms, safe from the storm as she dozed off, was exactly where she needed to be. Knowing he wanted her there only made it that much warmer.

D’aww. I was legitimately wondering at a couple points how on earth things were going to wind up heading to a remotely happy ending, but you pulled it off well enough.

Alright, time for the ending summary that I normally do. So I gathered that this was basically a character study / excuse to write WSBS!Guzma and WSBS!Odette bouncing off each other since you aren’t exactly shy about how much you like the two as an author, but it honestly works quite well as an effective advertisement of what to expect from them in terms of personalities. Odette is the same headstrong, stubborn daredevil that she is from WSBS, while Guzma is rough around the edges, but with a soft side buried underneath it all. It makes for quite the combination there and is certainly getting me looking forward to whenever WSBS’ plot goes to Alola. I’m also impressed at how understandable this oneshot is even without any foreknowledge coming from WSBS, since the only thing that you need to know coming in is that Odette is an OC and everything still works even without knowledge of Odette’s background from WSBS.

As for points of criticism, there were a few minor typos and paragraphs that I didn’t quite agree with in terms of formatting that I spotted, but otherwise the prose was really solid. I do question whether or not Odette was a little too beat up to be punting on a trip to an emergency room given that she realistically would’ve gotten gashed from those corals or had more issues from the CPR done on her, but that’s easily handwaveable as “something something better medicine in Pokéworld, and not just for Pokémon” or “something something, it’s a story and this stuff happens commonly enough in pop culture” so good enough. And maybe it’d have been nice to see a bit more foreshadowing towards WSBS? I dunno, that’s a bit of a double-edged sword there really, since while more tie-ins would’ve made the story feel more integrated into WSBS’ events, it also would’ve risked continuity lockout for first-time readers, so I can respect the decisions you made there.

Good work there @Sinderella . It’s a bit of a different story in terms of premise, but it still works decently well, and I’ll be looking forward to when your main work winds up catching up with things since I can already tell that your take on Guzma is going to be fun to see in action.
 
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