#so I could very easily be failing with no chance of regaining footing if I get put back into the course | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bongaboi · 14 days

Text

Barcelona: 2024 UEFA Women's Champions League Winners

Second-half strikes from Aitana Bonmatí and Alexia Putellas won Barcelona their third UEFA Women's Champions League title in four years as they beat Lyon 2-0 in front of over 50,000 supporters at San Mamés Stadium in Bilbao.

Prior to this encounter, Lyon had defeated Barcelona in all four previous matches between the teams, including the 2019 and 2022 finals.

But it was a case of fifth time lucky for Jonatan Giráldez's team as the holders asserted their recent dominance in this competition with an assured performance on Spanish soil, spearheaded by the brilliant Bonmatí, who once again proved to be the difference-maker.

It was Barça who started on the front foot, and Caroline Graham Hansen set up Salma Paralluelo early on following a mazy run, only for the Spanish forward's effort to be well saved by Lyon goalkeeper Christiane Endler.

Despite Giráldez's team enjoying the majority of possession, OL remained a threat, and Barça defender Lucy Bronze was fortunate to see her header skim off her own crossbar from a corner.

Just before the interval, Graham Hansen did brilliantly to burst into the box, but she could only drag a shot just wide from a tight angle to ensure there would be no first-half breakthrough as a tight, evenly matched period ended level.

Lyon captain Wendie Renard, playing in her 11th Women's Champions League final, had the first clear chance after the break, though she could only scoop her shot over the bar after the ball had fallen kindly for her in the box.

It was a case of cometh the hour, cometh the hero for Barcelona, as Mariona Caldentey's clever pass set away Bonmatí down the left in the 63rd minute, and the No14's dinked effort beat Endler via a deflection to spark delirium among the majority of the crowd.

Lyon pushed for a response, and the competition's top scorer for this season, Kadidiatou Diani, went close with a curling effort narrowly over the bar.

In the closing stages, however, substitute Putellas put the gloss on the victory with a wonderful crashing finish, and Barça celebrated joyously with their outgoing coach Giráldez as they earned a fourth trophy in what has been another sensational campaign.

Visa Player of the Match: Aitana Bonmatí (Barcelona) "Influenced the game all over the pitch in and out of possession. High progressive passes, high ball recoveries and scored a great goal." UEFA Technical Observer panel

Graham Hunter, Barcelona reporter So much of the talk from Barcelona's staff and players leading up to this final was about "maturing", "managing matches better" and "learning from bitter defeat". All those things needed to be true here. The finalists were so well matched, so full of tactical discipline and cleverness. It meant that before the twinkle-toed brilliance of Bonmatí could make its wonderful impact, there needed to be patience, calm and cold-blooded control, all leading up to an eruption of talent. Then an eruption of joy.

Vanessa Tomaszewski, Lyon reporter In the first half, Lyon struggled with Barcelona's possession. Despite creating opportunities, the French side made technical errors and lost possession easily. After the break, Bonmatí capitalised on Lyon's defensive gaps to score and Lyon failed to regain control, with wider gaps appearing in their defence. Putellas sealed the victory in the final minutes as, despite their best efforts, Lyon tasted defeat in a stadium dominated by Barcelona supporters.

Jonatan Giráldez, Barcelona coach: "It was an incredible game. I am really happy, and it's one of the best days of my life, for sure. We did an amazing job. I am very proud of all of them. When I decided in December to leave at the end of the season, people thought the team's performances might dip. We showed that wasn't the case today. An amazing performance, and a deserved victory."

Lucy Bronze, Barcelona defender: "We knew we needed to be a club that made history. It's not easy, it's hard to win it once, but to do it back to back, Lyon showed how difficult it is. This team's finally done that. I think we go down in history as one of the best teams in Europe."

Sonia Bompastor, Lyon coach: The disappointment is great, and losing a final is very hard, but Barça played a great game. Our lack of offensive efficiency has cost us, but I will need more time to analyse it. Congratulations to Barcelona on winning this final. They're a great team. We would have needed to play a perfect game to win but, above all, we should have been more efficient in attack in order to get a better result."

Daniëlle van de Donk, Lyon midfielder: "I'm very emotional. Nobody likes to lose a final and we were here to win it. It's a shame we didn't create enough. Barcelona deserved the win, but I'm proud of my team; we gave it our all. I wish we could have pressed them a bit more, as I think that could have made a difference."

Key stats Barcelona have become only the fourth club to successfully defend the title after Umeå (in 2004), Lyon (in 2012, 2017, 2018, 2019 and 2020) and Wolfsburg (in 2014). The Spanish side's third European crown leaves them behind only Lyon (eight) and Frankfurt (four). Bonmatí scored for the second time in a Champions League final, after also netting in the 2021 win against Chelsea. Putellas struck in her third Champions League final, following goals in the 2021 and 2022 editions. Barcelona have become the first Spanish women's side to claim a quadruple, having also won the league, Spanish Cup and Spanish Super Cup this season. Lyon's Kadidiatou Diani finished as the competition's top scorer this season with eight goals. Wendie Renard has played a part in all Lyon's 11 finals. She has been captain for seven of them. Line-ups Barcelona: Coll; Bronze, Paredes, Engen, Rolfö (Batlle 67); Bonmatí, Walsh (Putellas 90+2), Guijarro; Graham Hansen, Paralluelo (Brugts 85), Caldentey (Pina 90+2)

Lyon: Endler; Carpenter, Renard, Gilles (Becho 81), Bacha; Horan, Egurrola, Van de Donk (Hegerberg 81); Diani, Dumornay, Cascarino (Majri 63)

Roll of honour: Finals

UEFA Women's Champions League: 2024 (Bilbao): Barcelona 2-0 Lyon 2023 (Eindhoven): Barcelona 3-2 Wolfsburg 2022 (Turin): Lyon 3-1 Barcelona 2021 (Gothenburg): Barcelona 4-0 Chelsea 2020 (San Sebastián): Lyon 3-1 Wolfsburg 2019 (Budapest): Lyon 4-1 Barcelona 2018 (Kyiv): Lyon 4-1aet Wolfsburg 2017 (Cardiff): Lyon 0-0aet, 7-6pens Paris Saint-Germain 2016 (Reggio Emilia): Lyon 1-1aet, 4-3pens Wolfsburg 2015 (Berlin): Frankfurt 2-1 Paris Saint-Germain 2014 (Lisbon): Wolfsburg 4-3 Tyresö 2013 (London): Wolfsburg 1-0 Lyon 2012 (Munich): Lyon 2-0 FFC Frankfurt 2011 (London): Lyon 2-0 Turbine Potsdam 2010 (Madrid): Turbine Potsdam 0-0aet, 7-6pens Lyon

UEFA Women's Cup: Two-legged finals 2009: Duisburg 6-0/1-1: agg 7-1 Zvezda-2005 2008: Frankfurt 1-1/3-2: agg 4-3 Umeå 2007: Arsenal 1-0/0-0: agg 1-0 Umeå 2006: Frankfurt 4-0/3-2: agg 7-2 Turbine Potsdam 2005: Turbine Potsdam 2-0/3-1: agg 5-1 Djurgården 2004: Umeå 3-0/5-0: agg 8-0 Frankfurt 2003: Umeå 4-1/3-0: agg 7-1 Fortuna Hjørring One-off final 2002 (Frankfurt): Frankfurt 2-0 Umeå

#2024 #fc barcelona #uefa women's champions league

0 notes

lizbotw · 4 years

Note

How about same characters but instead you have an SO who’s in love with thunderstorms? Like the louder the thunder, the more amazed you’ll be. Also definitely the type to dance in the rain 🌧 (Todoroki, Hawks, and I believe it was Bakugo?)

Todoroki, Hawks, and Bakugou With a S/O That Loves Thunderstorms

that dancing in the rain idea was AMAZING and then that got me thinking about what other cute things they would do in the rain! ahhh i loved this idea! ♡ i hope you enjoy it and once again i went a little overboard in some areas so this is more like another headcanon and scenario hybrid lmao :’)

Todoroki Shouto

Shouto had been doing a lot of research lately about how to be the best boyfriend for you. People often told him he didn’t come off as the most caring type, or that his responses to certain things could be interpreted as chilly and disinterested.

And he was very much interested in you, so he was trying his best make sure you knew that.

The day it started raining not long after you two had started dating he felt so prepared. He had read all about this.

Step One: Make sure he had an umbrella that was large enough for the two of you to fit under. Nothing was more romantic than holding hands in the rain while remaining dry.

Step Two: Carry you over large puddles. Soggy socks were not fun, but being in the strong arms of your boyfriend apparently was.

Step Three: Perfect opportunity to invite you over and he would be a fool not to take the chance. Provide warm clothes for you to change out of, a fluffy blanket for you two to cuddle under, and soothe your fears as the storm picked up in ferocity outside.

Seemed simple enough.

After class, he cornered you before you could go outside to head home. “(Y/N), let’s walk together.” It sounded more like a statement than a request, but way he swung an oversized umbrella at his side and moved to undo the tie that kept the fabric in place already told you you didn’t have much say in the matter.

On an unrelated note, the appearance of such an umbrella had you wondering where on earth he had gotten such a thing. It was clearly too big for something he would use regularly.

(The answer was that he had stolen from Endeavor that morning, the coat closet afterwards left with nothing but smaller, more normal sized umbrellas that probably wouldn’t do much for someone as large as his father. Not that he cared. He had even hummed a little tune as he left the house, barely sparing any thoughts for how his dad would be absolutely drenched before he even walked two blocks.)

Shouto’s attempts at serenading you with an umbrella were cute, but just caused you to tilt your head in confusion, a mischievous smile on your face. “We can walk together, but why do you need that?” You gestured to the umbrella.

“Well, don’t you want to stay dr-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence before you skipped out of the door. He tried to reach out to grab you back but you were too quick, slipping just out of range within seconds. He didn’t even have time to finish opening the umbrella and just ran after you, very much concerned at how he was already failing at Step One.

Luckily he was able to catch up with you when you stopped a few moments later, but the only reason you had even done so was not because you were waiting for him, but because you were busy admiring how the rain ran down the leaves of the trees flanking the pathway to the school. “Isn’t it beautiful, Shouto?” You commented without even turning around. You could tell he was there from his raggedy breaths.

“(Y/N)! Don’t worry, I have an umbrella. No need to worry about the rain.” He was still focused on his plan and was now struggling to open the umbrella all while pushing his dripping bangs out of his eyes.

Hearing that, you did turn around burst out laughing at how he would switch between tugging at the umbrella handle and angrily carding his fingers through his hair while huffing at the strands that refused to stay out of his face. You placed a hand on his arm, but when he still didn’t pay attention to you, you spoke. “Shouto, stop.” Your tone was soothing, even as you still wore a smile and were giggling at his predicament, and he immediately looked over at you, eyes scanning over how drenched you were as well.

That sent him into a whole new frenzy as he got ready to pull off his uniform jacket for you and you had to stop him all over again. You had to explain that you didn’t mind getting a little wet from the storm and in fact you actually liked it. He felt like you were just trying to make him feel better about the whole thing, but eventually he seemed to believe you and gave up on the umbrella idea.

Since you guys had just been standing there, having an entire discussion about whether or not the water falling from the sky was any cause for concern, you were both absolutely soaked. There wasn’t really any point in trying to stay dry now, so you convinced Shouto to allow you to drag him around the city to see the wonder of rain that most people completely missed or just straight up ignored because they were so busy keeping their head down and their feet moving as they shuffled to some place dry.

Sheltering under trees and shop awnings as you walked through the area, you guys avoided becoming chilled to the bone, or getting soaked enough for concern. Your fingers were firmly interlaced with Shouto’s as you dashed around the area, pulling him behind you as the rain blurred the city lights into indistinguishable neons and your heart thumped wildly in your chest as you almost slipped on the slick ground several times (Shouto’s arm always shot out to catch you, but you just laughed at his concern as you regained your footing easily on your own and pulled him around another corner).

The city park was completely empty by the time you guys got there and you wasted no time in heading to the lake in the heart of it to watch how the water fell on the surface before becoming a part of the rest of the body of water.

The whole time during your little adventure, Shouto had been watching you closely. At first it was out of concern to make sure that you weren’t pretending to enjoy this just for his sake, multicolored eyes searching to make sure you didn’t need anything from him, but slowly it morphed into him admiring you as he always did. The way your eyes were as wild as your slicked down hair that flew behind you and the way your laughter was ignited with a fire hotter than any he could ever produce.

Your steps always seemed sure despite your occasional stumbles, and even now when you were still by the lake, you seemed content yet still thinking about the next big thing you wanted to do.

You had crouched down by the water, but all of a sudden you stood up and turned to him. He thought that he had been caught staring at you and embarrassment flooded through him. His cheeks felt hot and he forgot that that was because he had just been running after you.

But you didn’t seem to have noticed the staring or even care. Instead, you stepped closer to him and grabbed a hold of the collar of his shirt, tugging him down while you tilted your face up and suddenly your lips were smashed together and his hands automatically went to your waist. Your shirt was clinging to you before, but now seemed to latch onto his as well as the rain poured down on both of you, pushing you closer and closer together.

You weren’t sure how or when it happened, but the next thing you new, he had pressed you up against the trunk of a park tree as his lips moved against yours as though they had a mind of their own.

It wasn’t until he heard the distant roll of thunder that he pulled back, about to tell you that you should both head home until he saw the newly sparked crazed look in your eye at the sound of the storm worsening. He immediately invited you over to stay with him, deciding that he should probably continue to supervise your rain time pursuits.

You happily agreed because it was Shouto for crying out loud, and managed to pull him back down to continue what you had just been up to.

That is, until another roll of thunder had him completely pulling away and saying that you guys should really start going as he picked up the umbrella he had dropped in the midst of the kiss. You decided that you should be momentarily mad at the rain for ruining your make out session, but eventually you went back to loving it as Shouto slipped his hand back into yours. Thank you, rain.

When you guys came across a giant puddle on the road during the walk to his house, he reached over to hoist you into your arms, but you were already in the middle of a jump, landing in the puddle with a slash that he just barely avoided.

He stared at you open mouthed as you grinned back at him.

“But... but your socks... they’ll get soggy,” he stammered out.

You waved off his concerns. “That’s not important right now, Shouto. We’re almost to your house, aren’t we? I can just change there.” And then you were skipping off again and he was back to trying to catch up. So much for Step Two.

Step Three was also decidedly failed when you did accept the warm clothes he provided you to change into so you didn’t get sick, but did not want to share a blanket with him on the couch because you were glued to his window and getting more exciting with each passing second as the storm raged outside, animatedly calling him over to join you. You also most definitely did not need any soothing words.

Shouto decided he didn’t mind any of that though or how none of the advice online seemed to apply to you. Wrapping the blanket around your shoulders as he slid in next to you on the window seat to watch the rain drops racing down the window panes (ignoring his phone pinging from somewhere in his room—no doubt his father who was surely sorely missing his umbrella now that the rain had turned into an absolute downpour), he pressed a kiss to your temple as you melted into his touch and he used his quirk to warm you. This was perfect for him and he knew that by the time the next rainy day of your relationship rolled around, he would be even more prepared than he was today.

Both of you also may or may not have had to call out from school for the next few days as you two were home bound with coughs and sniffles that racked your body. A pair of agonizing colds in exchange for an afternoon of fun—not a bad exchange you both decided.

Takami Keigo (Hawks)

You had called him one day after work, asking him if he could pick you up. The sunny morning had turned into a rainy afternoon, and now that you were ready to head home you were faced with the challenges brought from not watching the morning weather forecast for one day and subsequently being sorely under prepared.

Keigo was out on hero duties when you let him know the problem, so he decided to have a little fun when it came to bringing you home. Rather than drive you to your place or call you a taxi, he decided he was going to fly you there. What? You can’t blame him for wanting you to grip tightly to his shoulders as he carries you in his strong arms high above the skyscrapers.

This wasn’t how you planned to spend your time after work, and as you buried your face in his chest as he soared to the skies, you questioned your decisions.

He made sure to use his feathers to keep you dry, and once you were sure you weren’t going to fall to your doom, you allowed yourself to peek out from where your face had been tucked in, in awe at being closer to the rain clouds now.

You wanted to reach your hand out to fee the cool rain, but then you remembered the reason it was so important for you to stay dry. Truth be told, you were fine with getting a little wet and just toughing it out until you could get home and change into warmer clothes, but today you had important documents you needed to get home in one piece and that meant any small drop of water could completely mess them up. Not that Keigo knew that. He just assumed you wanted to be out of the rain like any other person. You two hadn’t spent many rainy days together, and those that you had had only been a light patter—nothing like the loud thunderstorms that truly piqued your interest.

Once he dropped you off at your apartment building, Keigo let you know he had a few more hero related things to finish off but promised to come check on you afterwards since he couldn’t walk you inside right now. A hug, goodbye kiss, and small thank you were all you managed before he had to go, even though it was very clear he wanted to stay longer.

When you walked inside the building, you greeted the woman at the front desk and made small talk about the weather outside to which she replied in amazement that you seemed completely dry. To that you just chuckled, mentally thanking your boyfriend for getting you home safely. After that, you rode the elevator up to your apartment and once you were inside, you made sure to take the precious documents out of the bag you had been cradling to your chest out of fear of anything happening to them and place them in a very safe and dry location that you knew you wouldn’t forget about. Hopefully.

But with those out of your mind, you could finally relax, and set about taking a hot shower and changing into more comfortable clothes. Sure, you hadn’t gotten wet, but this had become a routine for you on rainy days so you felt compelled to still complete it. As you went through the steps, the sound of thunder outside made you feel safe and secure, and your heart leapt with excitement every time you heard a new roll of it in the distance.

You decided to make a cup of tea and sit by the window to watch the storm outside. Nothing better than some alone time on a rainy day for you.

You were so caught up in counting the seconds between each crack of thunder that you barely even heard Keigo when he came in through the door, having quickly wrapped up his hero work, changed into casual clothes, and flew back over to your apartment and let himself in within record time. “Hey, babe, do you have any more of those-,” he started saying, but then you shrieked and whirled around, very much confused at what was going on.

He looked startled for a second before he burst out laughing as you slowly realized it was just your boyfriend, embarrassment creeping across your features as you hid your face in shame.

“You should’ve seen the look on your face, oh my god,” he barley managed to get out as he doubled over in laughter.

You just huffed and crossed your arms. “Shut up. You almost made me spill my scalding hot tea all over me.” You decided to throw a little bit of overdramatic descriptions in there for good measure in exchange for the heart attack he had almost given you.

Keigo was still quietly chuckling as he walked over to you. He shook his head in amusement at your pouting and gave you a kiss on your forehead. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and you could feel his lips curving up into a smile against your temple. He pulled away to sit down next to you, leaning back on the pillows propped against the wall with his hands behind his head. “What were you so busy looking at anyway? You didn’t even reply to my text earlier.”

“You texted? My phone is charging, so I didn’t see it.” You turned back to stare out the window as you two fell into a comfortable back and forth conversation as you always did.

“But I told you I was coming.” His teasing, lighthearted tone was insufferably endearing, and you hid a smile as you took a sip from your cup.

“Yeah, well I told you many times before to knock first.” You did your best to mimic his tone and stole a glance at his face to see his reaction. His offended expression was hilarious, but you decided to put him out of his misery and answer his earlier question, letting him know that you were actually so caught up watching the rain that you hadn’t heard him come in before.

Keigo’s eyes lit up and his mouth quirked into a mischievous smirk. “Babe, if you wanted to see the rain up close, you should’ve just told me.” He got up from the window seat and tugged on your arm to pull you with him.

“Wait, wait, hold on, you’re going to make me spill this all over myself again.” You shook off hand and stood up on your own, walking over to your kitchen counter to place down the cup of tea safely.

He trailed after you and gave you a hug from behind once you finally placed it down. “Now?”

You turned around in his arms and kissed the tip of his nose. “Now.”

He smiled, gave you a proper kiss on your lips, and slipped his hand in yours to pull you along. You realized he was heading towards the door and grabbed a sweater you had draped over a chair as you passed by it.

He released your hand as he moved to open the door and you took that chance to slip the sweater on. He laced your fingers back together soon after.

Any questions you posed about what he was doing or where you were going were just met with a knowing smirk as he looked back at you following him, or he’d simply vaguely say, “You’ll see.” Eventually you gave up and just enjoyed the warmth of his hands in yours.

He took you to the elevator and up to the highest floor of your apartment building, and then you two took the small staircase up to the roof.

When he pushed open the door to the roof, you could clearly see how the rain had picked up from earlier, and you wondered what he was planning.

Keigo expanded his wings and wrapped one around you as he pulled you to his side and moved to take a step outside.

“Kei-”

He cut you off. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you.”

You bit your lip and nodded, matching your steps to his long strides as he stepped outside. You flinched, expecting to feel the cool rain pelting down on you, but when you looked up, you remembered that his feathers were protecting the two of you from getting wet.

You tentatively reached a hand out to feel the rain just as you had wanted to do earlier, shivering at the feeling of the water slipping between your fingers.

He led you to the edge of the roof and you two stopped at the edge. He beckoned for you to sit down, and some of his feathers fluttered to the ground so you wouldn’t one have to sit on the wet concrete.

Soon you two were situated, sitting together and sides pressed together, his arm around your shoulder as you balled your hands against his chest, head leaning on him. His wings and feathers kept you two from becoming soaked, allowing you a better view of the storm than you ever could’ve gotten from your tiny apartment window.

The air was crisp and the feeling of the wind blowing light bits of water at you felt refreshing and enthralling. The sound of the thunder was clear whenever it rang out and the lightning was bright as it flashed across the sky. It was all so breathtaking.

You and Keigo fell into a comfortable conversation as you two sat there, legs swinging over the edge. Surrounded on all sides by the harsh weather yet protected by your loving boyfriend made the whole thing seem surreal.

You knew that you two definitely had to do this again and you knew Keigo would have no objections if you asked him. Up close, the storm reignited a fire in you and reminded you why you had fallen in love with such a type of weather in the first place.

Keigo gave you small kisses throughout your time on the roof, and at one point lifted your chin up so he could press a long kiss to your lips, tilting his head towards yours and causing his shaggy hair to tickle your forehead as you ran your tongue over his lips, biting them lightly.

When you two eventually went back inside, he had to shake the water off of his wings, and you stood a little bit away, putting your hands up to protect yourself from the flying water and giggling as he tried to dried them off.

Once he was satisfied enough and his feathers weren’t dripping anymore, he walked over to you, opening his mouth to say something, but before he could you grabbed his hair and tip toed up to kiss him, a silent thank you for such an amazing experience.

Although he was surprised at first, Keigo wasted no time in reciprocating it, pushing you against the the wall as his hands found your hips.

Looks like you two were going to be spending some more time in the rooftop stairwell before you could even get back to your apartment—not that either of you were complaining.

Bakugou Katsuki

The first time he catches you staring out the window wistfully as rain pelts down outside when you’re staying over at his house, he doesn’t think much of it, but then half an hour passes and you’re still stuck there and he begins to think it’s a little weird how your attention seems so focused on whatever it is you’re looking at, and actually comes up behind you to see what the hell is so interesting outside. Except there’s nothing out of the ordinary besides the rain.

You were so enamored by the lighting flashes that you didn’t even noticed him leaning over your shoulder to peer out of the window. Since it doesn’t seem that he disturbed your trance, Katsuki just gives you a puzzled expression and goes back to slumping down in his bean bag chair, except this time he doesn’t go back to flipping through the comic he was reading, instead choosing to continue to watch you closely.

It turns into him admiring the way the gloomy lighting outside casts shadows on your face, while the bright light of his bedroom shines on your hair. He’s full on resting his chin in the palm of his hand and staring at you happily—allowing himself a moment of vulnerability since you weren’t paying attention anyway—when you suddenly jump up from your seat right after another crack of thunder. The sudden noise and movement catches him off guard, and as you run past him and out his bedroom door, his nearly toppled out of the bean bag chair, having been leaning in a less than stable position as he watched you before.

‘What the fuck?,’ is all he can think to himself as he stares through the bedroom door you left ajar and out into the hallway you had disappeared down. Katsuki just shakes his head in disapproval and picks up the comic book he had discarded on the ground, thumbing through the pages to find his place again. He didn’t have enough energy to deal with whatever the fuck you were up to this time.

That is, until he hears the distant squeak of shoes and the sound of the back door to his house opening and slamming shut. He immediately scrambles to the window overlooking his backyard and catches sight of you just as you exit the house and step out into the rain.

Okay... maybe you had a good reason to? Like maybe you forgot something outside? But no. Instead, he sees you twirling around and holding out your open palms to the water droplets.

Completely sure you had lost your mind, Katsuki tore himself away from the window and bizarre sight below it, and thundered down the steps of his house, skidding to a stop in front of the back door and wrenching it open. The deafening sound of rain hit his ears, hammering against the awning of his back porch.

As you splash around in the puddles outside, he could now make out the rain boots and flimsy raincoat you had tugged on right before heading outside. You seemed perfectly content in that getup alone, no umbrella in sight.

“(Y/N)???” Katsuki called out from the doorway where he still stood. At first he wasn’t sure if you would even hear him over the rain, but then you whirled around, eyes darting about as you tried to place the sound—glancing up at the bedroom window at first since you still thought he was in his room—until they finally landed on him right in front of you and your eyes lit up.

You gave him a small wave with a bright smile and made a gesture for him to come out and join you.

He shook his head no at your request because you had to be crazy to go out in this kind of weather. “Come back inside,” he yelled out again. It was a command that gave you no option to refuse, yet somehow you did, shaking your head no at him, just as he had done to you, and playfully sticking your tongue out at his flabbergasted reaction before you turned back to spinning around under the falling water.

Katsuki could not tolerate you getting sick and then having to deal with your whining as he was forced to nurse you back to health, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. He turned back inside and pulled out his own pair of rain boots and an umbrella from the coat closet and steeled himself to step outside.

He immediately wanted to go back in where it was nice and warm, the house cozy compared to the nightmare (to him) of outside, but he pressed onward and walked up to you. Except when he attempted to grab your arm to drag you back in, you took the fact that he was outside as an invitation to include him in your rainy day adventures.

“You know, Kat, now that we’re both out here, don’t you think we should celebrate?”

The teasing tone in your voice already clued him in that you were about to do something questionable, but when you tugged him towards you and he almost tripped over his own two feet, he wondered what in the world you meant. You used the momentum from his stumbling to pulled him closer you, until you were both under the umbrella he was holding, one of your hands gripping his shoulder and your other still on his forearm. You stared up at him with a dopey grin.

He had grabbed onto your hip to catch his balance before and now that you were all but pressed into his chest, his arm automatically snaked around your waist to pull you closer, hand resting on your lower back.

Katsuki shifted the umbrella in his grip and rain droplets bounced off the edges. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked wearily, eyeing you suspiciously because you were unpredictable and he wasn’t sure if he even wanted you to elaborate on your so called “amazing plan.”

You rolled your eyes. “Can’t you be more romantic for once?”

“What’s romantic about this?”

You looked personally offended that that. “Everything! We’re literally sharing an umbrella outside-”

“Yeah, because you forced me come out here-“

“Stop interrupting me. Anyway, take a look at the position we’re in, Mr. I’m-So-Smart.”

“What the fuck do you-” Katsuki stopped talking as he fully took in the meaning behind your words. The way you two were standing, the way your hands rested on such specific parts of each other, it almost looked like... “What? Are you about to bust out ballroom dancing right now?”

The amused look on his face melted away into one of horror as you enthusiastically nodded, seeming very much serious about this. “We don’t have to ballroom dance if you want—you might step on my toes anyway—but wouldn’t it be fun to dance in the rain together? This is the type of thing movies always show!”

He didn’t even have time to be offended at you insinuating he would be a bad dancing partner and instead scrunched his face up as he tried to imagine how in the world this could be fun.

He also didn’t even have the chance to speak before you were already attacking all possible arguments against this that he could make.

“I know that look on your face and I just wanted to let you know that no you’re not getting out of this.”

He didn’t seem convinced.

“I’ll go back inside if you agree.”

Katsuki’s lips quirked up into an amused smirk again. “What’s stopping me from just carrying you back inside right now?”

You laughed and he suddenly had the feeling that you were one step ahead of him still and had a plan for all of this. Oh no. “That’s a good question. I’d like to see you try though.” You stepped back and pulled him with you. The slick ground had him almost tripping again at the sudden movement and he had to make sure he didn’t crash into you and send you two toppling to the ground—it wouldn’t be very fun to clean up the mud that would surely cake both of your clothes.

The weather worked in your favor though—when had it not since this stupid storm started?—and you managed to get him to do a sloppy version of a couples dance—something you wouldn’t have been able to do normally due to his stronger physique, although now he was powerless—tugging him after you as you twirled around in his backyard, him slipping as he tried not to fall on the ground and holding onto you for dear life. Yes, very romantic.

You accidentally knocked the umbrella out of his hand at some point and while you barely noticed, he sure did. Within seconds his hair was heavy with water and his clothes were sticking to him. The umbrella hadn’t been doing much because your raincoat had already gotten the front of his shirt wet, and the way you were pulling him around had the umbrella shaking water on him anyway. Plus the slight wind in the air had been pelting the rain against him even from under the umbrella. Still, the umbrella was his last resort to keep from becoming totally soaked.

He grumbled and cursed under his breath, and that caught your attention.

You took one look at the hair plastered against his forehead and the umbrella now rolling around on the ground, being blown about by the wind, and burst out laughing—the hood of your oversized jacket keeping your hair safe while the rest of you was nice and cozy, a sharp contrast to his current state. He narrowed his eyes at that. Oh, it’s on.

Since he was soaked to the bone now and had nothing left to lose, he decided it was about time he took the lead here. He pulled you closer to his chest and now you were the one stumbling, your laughter cut off as you looked up to him in confusion. “Kat, what-”

“You said you wanted to dance, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you want to take it back now, babe. I was just getting started.” There was a new twinkle in his eye and as soon as you noticed it you broke out into a smile, meeting his eyes to accept his challenge.

Katsuki was surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly because he was so good at everything) adept at dancing, twirling you around and pulling you back to his chest with ease, and you decided that later you would make fun of him and ask if he had taken dance lessons. And no, he didn’t step on your toes, although you did step on his and he made sure to point it out every time.

He dipped you down at the end of all of it, both of you breathing heavily. You studied his face, grinned, and then leaned up to kiss him. He tightened his grip to make sure he didn’t drop you, thunder sounding in the distance.

You guys splashed in the puddles for a while longer—it took him a little while to agree, but it didn’t take much convincing after just a few moments because he had already given up on resisting at that point, plus you had challenged him to see who could make the biggest splash and he obviously couldn’t turn down that—but eventually you agreed with him that you two should head inside.

He had to stand by the doorway because he was soaked and he didn’t want to get water inside, while you simply stripped off your raincoat, nice and dry underneath, and happily skipped off to grab him a towel to dry off with.

Soon you two were all dry and in warm clothes once again, cuddled up on his bed near the window.

You showed him how to count the seconds in between a lightning strike and the sounding of thunder in order to calculate how many miles away the lightning was. You two ended up argued over the exact number of seconds more than once until you were both petty enough to grab your phones, set a timer, and settle the dispute once and for all.

“So, what was stopping you?” You turned to him to ask later.

He gave you a quizzical looked and pulled you closer to him, adjusting the blanket wrapped around you both. “What do you mean?”

“What was stopping you from just carrying me back inside before? You wouldn’t be shivering right now if you just did that, you know.” You reached up a hand to twirl a strand of his spiky hair around your fingers, turning his earlier words against him.

He tried to bat your hand away, but when you just kept putting it back, he leaned into your touch. “You looked happy,” he mumbled, looking away, “and you’re... kind of cute when you’re like that or whatever.”

“What’s that? I don’t think I heard you clearly, Kat,” you purred, teasing lilt in your voice.

Katsuki gave you a grumpy look. “I’m not repeating myself, fuck off.” And then he kissed your cheek and buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply.

You continued to watch the storm outside as you moved to stroke his back, his lips lightly pressing against your neck at irregular intervals as he kept his head there. It was warm and comfortable in his bed, and having him pressed against you made that rainy day all the better.

Katsuki ended up slightly sick from spending so much time outside wearing barely anything more than a few thin pieces of clothing that were clearly not made to handle the rain, and although he wasn’t in terrible condition, you still had to deal with his whining and agree to his demands for more blankets, pillows, and snacks that he all claimed he couldn’t get himself. Now you were the one who had to nurse him back to health in the days that followed. What a turn of events.

You pretended to be grumpy when you entered his room and tossed the extra pillow he had asked for in his face, but as he floundered as it landed on him—jolting him out of him resting quietly with his eyes closed—you couldn’t help but smile widely, despite you trying to bite it back down.

Once Katsuki got the pillow off his face, he turned to give you an angry glare, he noticed your smile and his resolve immediately melted away. He turned his attention back to the pillow and slipped it under his head, arranging it a bit before laying down on it, hands behind his head and eyes closing again. “...Thank you, babe... I love you,” he said, somewhat mumbling it out because you always liked to tease him whenever he was all lovey dovey. A smile made it’s way to his face again as he thought about that day out in the rain and how happy you had looked. Next time he would be more prepared for your rainy day adventures so you better be ready.

682 notes · View notes

speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

Bring Him Light - viii (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: If the king can disrespect his queen so openly, surely the people can, too?

Warnings: slight injury to reader, confessions, bad timing

Word Count: 3k

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

It was inevitable. The people began to lash out at you as soon as their king did. You were an outsider, the daughter of a king who waged a war against their country. They welcomed you into Brooken in hopes of a bright future and an heir for their king. And to their knowledge, you had disappointed them. So, when your husband struck you in front of his court, it opened the door to let his subjects treat you in the same manner.

In the days that took place after the party, the respect for you had dwindled. Ladies of the court who once pulled you around to chat your ear off and were all too excited to invite you to their tea parties and to their chateaus had all stopped acknowledging you when you walked into the room. You were given smug looks and side eyed stares. Their husbands, who were all eager to carry favor with the queen in doing so with the king as well, had barely spoke to you now. Before, when they grazed your shoulder with theirs, you were bombarded with apologizes, afraid that they had hurt the king by hurting you. But all that changed the moment your delicate skin was scarred by the wedding ring that symbolized your failing marriage. Now, their bumps were intentional, and they hurt – you had bruises to prove it.

You admired one of the paintings that adorned the wall of the east end of the castle. You were rarely seen outside of your chambers and when you were, you kept to yourself. The warm, welcoming Brooken was gone. And in its place stood a cold, lonely prison.

“(Y/N),” you let out a sigh when you recognized the low, hushed voice of Brock Rumlow. Ever since the party, you had spoken to four people – Wanda, Natasha, Jean the midwife, and Brock. The friendship between you and your husband’s cousin was platonic, you made it clear to the man that you had no intentions of an affair and he seemingly agreed, not wanting to further endanger you.

He glanced around to ensure that you were both alone. He wasn’t eager for any unwanted guests to listen in. Brock strode over to you with long steps until he stood next to you. Your eyes stayed glued to the giant painting. It appeared to be a portrayal of a war that Steven’s grandfather had been a part of.

“The arrangements have been made,” he whispered. You nodded. “There’s a tower opposite your bedchamber’s windows. When you see a light, know to meet at the docks the next time the moon rises. We will use the cover of the night to escort you and your ladies safely onto a ship.”

“Thank you.” You muttered. “Really.”

He reached out and gave a comforting squeeze to your arm. His fingers trailed the scarred flesh of your wrist – a reminder of another fault King Steven has done.

When the two men were young, Brock had been groomed to take the throne because Steven had been a sickly child. He remembered his aunt being told to expect the worst, so Steven’s father had taken Brock under his wing. He convinced himself that he would’ve been the perfect king. But then a “magic” doctor from a foreign land had been brought in and a few weeks later, Steven’s illnesses were gone along with the short, skinny prince. Steven grew to be broad and tall, towering over his cousin and a lot of other men. Brock was thrown to the side as Steven regained his proper place in the court.

He grew up with jealousy as he watched his cousin get everything that was meant for him. The castle, the title, the crown… Brock hadn’t been jealous of Steven’s wives. He had his own list of lovers and was very satisfied with the women whom he shared a bed with, but then your portrait was delivered by King Anthony Stark. The young, beautiful princess of York who got to be his cousin’s wife – who would’ve been his wife if he had been on the throne.

“Of course, your grace,” he nodded.

“Is there anything else?” He shook his head and mentioned he should go for the council had a meeting in a few minutes. You smiled at him before you dismissed him, wanting to be alone. He bowed before leaving.

You thought you’d be giddy, excited upon hearing the news. Lord Pierce worked quickly, contacted the Wakanda King and negotiated you and your ladies’ safe voyage. It was all falling into place. You’d be far from Brooken so that your husband and his court couldn’t hurt you anymore and far from York where your father would’ve just sent you back to your own personal hell.

But you weren’t happy. You were taking your unborn child away from its father. You were stealing away a kingdom’s heir. For what? Because you were unhappy in your marriage? Because your husband had hurt you? They were good reasons to leave. So, why weren’t you relieved?

After long minutes of silence and contemplating, you heard a tutting. With a frown, you turned around and saw one of the noblewomen, Lady Leah Nightingale, emerge from the shadows. She had been one of the women who took back her invitation to her chateau – it wasn’t as if you had any intentions of riding off to the outskirts of southern Brooken to go either way.

“Lady Leah.” You greeted with a fake smile. She had an eyebrow quirked up with a taunting expression with her arms crossed.

“You’re a whore.” She said. Your smile immediately dropped. “I didn’t want to listen to the rumors about you and Lord Rumlow, yet here I am… Did I intrude? The moment seemed rather intimate.”

“I believe you are mistaken, Lady Leah.” You nodded. You walked past her and towards the staircase behind her when she grabbed your arm and whipped you around.

“The king will have your head for your infidelity.” She said. “Then, any lady of the court gets another chance at being queen. That crown,” she snatched the dainty York tiara off your head, “belongs to me.”

“That is my mother’s.” You seethed as you reached over and tried to grab it from her hands. It became a tug of war.

You found it ridiculous, fighting over a headpiece. Your husband had gifted you hundreds of jewels and crowns that were stashed away. You could’ve easily exchanged it for something more extravagant or expensive, but Brooken had already stolen so much from you.

She pulled so hard away from you that the crown had slipped from both your hands. It clattered against the hard floors, the aged metal splitting in half. You gasped with wide, teary eyes. Lady Leah gave you a smirk.

“It’s all yours, your majesty,” she mocked. “It was cheap like your mother… and like you.”

You glared at her, feeling all the pent-up rage bubbling to the surface. You trembled with anger, unsure of how to exert such negativity. You weren’t sure whether to lunge at her and tear the stupid dangly earrings from her ears or scream until your lungs gave out.

“Queen Margaret had more grace than you and she was older than the king. Queen Sharon was more beautiful and kind. You little York bitch thought you were too good for the rest of us. Too good for the king?” She scoffed. “No wonder he grew tired of you. Hell, I wanted to slap you the second you stepped out the carriage. I can’t wait until he kills you.” You felt your breath shudder and the tears fall from your eyes. “In fact… I’ll go ahead and do it for him.”

You frowned with confusion but quickly let out a gasp when her hands reached out and pushed your shoulders hard. You lost your balance. Your foot missed a step as you tumbled down the stairs.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The five men sat around the wooden table, the king at the head. He drummed his fingers along the wood, the rhythm helped calm him.

It had been a week since the party – since he had slapped you as if you were just a defiant servant. He felt awful the moment it happened. You had a horrified look on your face as you stared at him as if he truly were a monster with fangs, horns, and all. He felt like he was one.

After the party ended, he saw an upset Strucker to his guest chambers before nearly running to your shared bedchamber with thousands of apologizes raging on inside his mind. He had intended to kiss the cut until it healed and hold you like he did in the first few months of your marriage. But you weren’t there. So, he sat at the foot of the bed and awaited your return. He stayed up all night long, but eventually collapsed hours after the sun rose.

He hoped to waken with you curled up beside his body, but he woke up to not-so-quiet servants who were briskly removing your things from the chamber. He pulled one girl aside and questioned her. She revealed that you wished to stay in your old chambers from now on.

He thought that this was perhaps a way of punishing him, so he allowed himself to be punished. He deserved it. He knew he should not have struck you – whether it happened privately or in front of a crowd, he knew he should not have laid his hands on you in that way.

He thought that you would return in a few short days and allow him to apologize for his wrongdoing. He hoped that there was still a chance at that happiness he promised you.

But days had turned into a week and you never returned.

And it hurt him.

Lord Pierce was droning on about the absence of grain. In the past year, Baron Strucker had been holding out on the essential good. He had been giving Brooken a fraction of what he used to. So, Steven invited him to court in hopes to coax out more of the grain so that his people could eat. But with your outburst and Wanda’s rejection, the Duke became angry. Now, he was refusing to ship grain, feeding the king excuses about a wildfire and insects that ravaged his lands.

“Is there anything we can do?” He asked. “Perhaps, reach out to any allies?”

“York.” Lord Rumlow suggested. “Although with the situation at hand, I doubt the queen would be willing to ask her father to help you.” The words were meant to be a jab at the king. Steven knew. His cousin was always poking and looking for a fight.

Before the king could respond, someone burst through the doors. It was a wide-eyed Natasha rushed through the doors. Panic written all over her features. “Your grace, my lords,” she bowed, panting slightly.

“Nat?” Lord James asked, rising from his seat. “What’s happened?”

“The queen…” she said, breathless. “The queen…”

“Out with it!” Brock snapped, jumping up from his seat and walked over to the woman, grabbing her arms and shaking her slightly. James had told him to unhand her.

“The queen was pushed down the stairs by Lady Leah Nightingale… Or at least that’s what the witness had said,” Natasha explained after regaining her breath. “She’s in the infirmary.”

Steven felt the color drain from his face as he shot up and rushed past her and out the room. He heard the lady’s heels clatter against the tiles as she followed him. The sound was accompanied by heavy footsteps, that undoubtedly belonged to the other lords of his council.

As he approached the doors, he noticed a midwife – he believed her name was Jean or Joan, or something along the lines of that – walking the opposite direction in quick, rushed steps. He dismissed it before bursting through the double doors.

The doctor, Stephen Strange, who was visiting from York, had been looming over you. Lady Wanda sitting at your bedside. “King Steven,” he greeted with a nod.

“Strange.” Steven responded. He glanced over to the men behind him and asked for everyone but the doctor to be dismissed. The two ladies glared at him – he didn’t miss the way his cousin did, too. “Must I repeat myself?”

“I will not leave you with her.” It was Wanda, the shy, meek auburn-haired girl, who spoke up. She had rarely been defiant or outspoken in the ways you and Natasha were. She had always smiled and nodded, but now, she scowled at the king with her brows knitted together and venom dripping from her words.

The king sighed, placing a hand on his hip. “Please,” he asked with a lower voice. It was as if he were begging. The two women stood as they were as if to say we don’t take orders from you. “Fine. Stay.”

Steven walked closer towards you. You looked so peaceful – asleep with your head turned to the side slightly and a hand over your stomach, which protruded in the slightest bit but was still unnoticeable beneath your gown. The scar left a scabbed line on your cheekbone. He hadn’t realized how shallow the cut was.

“Is she okay?” He finally asked. “And I apologize that I hadn’t been there to welcome you to Brooken, Stephen.”

“I’m only here because her father asked me to come check on her. I am her godfather after all.” Stephen lied. Though, truthfully, he was your godfather. “She’s only sleeping for now, your grace. No true injury. The ba – “he stopped talking when he saw Wanda shake her head over the king’s shoulder. He was a smart man. He knew not to overstep. “She’ll make a quick recovery and be on her feet in a day, if not, less.”

“If she doesn’t wake?”

“Don’t be so pessimistic. She will wake. I assure you.” Stephen said, confidently. He wasn’t here for your father’s bidding. He was here to inform you of your brother’s worsening condition. He believed that you had a right to know and say your farewells, but he realized that perhaps you had other pressing matters to deal with. “I suggest you get your court in order. If word reaches York about the treatment of their princess, there will be another war… And King Anthony will be twice as ruthless as he was during the first.”

Steven nodded. His eyes glued to your unconscious body. It was his fault that his people – your people, too – had been so cruel to you in the past week. Thankfully, you weren’t badly hurt in this incident, but what of the next? What happens when his own citizens become bold enough to have a true attempt at your life? It would still be your blood on his hands because he allowed this to happen.

“Let’s leave the king, shall we ladies?” Stephen asked. Although slightly wary and defiant, the two women reluctantly agreed. He listened to their receding footsteps and the door close behind them.

Steven brushed your hair gently with his fingers. He pressed his lips to your temple and to the cut before placing a chaste kiss to your lips. You head had turned, but you were still sound asleep.

“I don’t know if you’re listening. I hope you are.” Steven whispered, clutching the hand that laid to your side. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry for striking you, for allowing people to disrespect you so openly. I’m sorry for calling you a whore queen, for frightening you. I… There are so many wrongdoings, so many faults. I told you before I wanted us to be happy. I wanted our future to be happy. And I failed you. I want to do better by you, to be the man that you deserve, I truly do…

“But there are things going on in this kingdom that you do not know about… I pray that you do not. My cousin and Lord Pierce are plotting against me. I know it. I want to trust you, (Y/N). I do. I want to tell you of my plans to weed out everyone who dares go against us, but I see them looming over you. I see Brock whispering into your ear. I can’t help but wonder if you will betray me like Margaret? Like Sharon? I’ve been married twice before you and I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it scares me because the only love I’ve known ends in betrayal. And if you betray me, I will not know how to recover.”

You were beginning to stir awake. Your eyes were fluttering open, wincing at the light. You felt a pressure in your head, a warmth radiating to your side. His words were muffled. You didn’t register anything he said. Not even when Steven whispered,

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Outside the infirmary doors, the lords had eventually dispersed. Wanda and Stephen had walked off, whispering about the secret baby that only you, your ladies, Jean, and now your godfather knew about. Rumlow and Pierce rushed off, whispering to one another about their plots. Only James and Natasha had stayed behind, standing against the wall across the door.

“Buck?” Natasha whispered. She surveyed the hallway. They were completely alone. Not a servant in sight. He hummed in response. “I have something to tell you.”

“About what?”

“I’m telling you because I trust you and because I do not trust Lord Rumlow.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

You were eventually moved back to your chambers – the one separate from the king’s. You were still a bit dizzy from the incident, but you were assured you’d be fine. Jean had come by discreetly and checked up on you. She assured you that the baby wasn’t harmed and that the fall wasn’t too harsh that it could’ve caused any damage. Your godfather had also promised that you’d recover.

It became clear that Brooken did not want you here. You were in danger. Your child hadn’t been born yet, and it was in danger, too.

And like a flame that ignited in the window of the tower across from your chambers, a new hope burned through you. The signal. The confirmation.

You rubbed your slightly protruded stomach anxiously. The next night you were leaving Steven and Brooken. Forever.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #king!steve rogers #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america #royalty au #marvel au #marvel royalty

649 notes · View notes

tigerkirby215 · 3 years

Text

5e Fluttershy, the Element of Kindness build (My Little Pony: FIM)

(Artwork by SophiesPlushies on DeviantArt.)

Like, it took me a solid 5 minutes to find the first image in this post and I had to sift through so much softcore porn to find it. I didn’t even find it by searching DeviantArt I had to go on fucking derpibooru oh my lord.

Anyways: here’s another shit brony build because people don’t hate me enough! Well that and I do genuinely love the characters from My Little Pony, and think that they’d be fun to make builds for. But feel free to call me a garbage brony at your leisure.

These are the words of a man who has been beaten down after being a brony for around 10 years.

GOALS

I'm just good with animals - Fluttershy talks to animals. That’s one of the main things she does really.

I'm doing this because you're my very best friend - As the element of kindness we of course need to share our heart and soul with our friends.

Nopony pushes new Fluttershy around! - MLP Wiki makes an express point of mentioning The Stare in Fluttershy’s powers, so of course we’ll do our best to include that.

RACE

Before you say anything no I’m not a pegasi stan just because I did both Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. Regardless Aaracokra still makes the most sense for Fluttershy unfortunately because there’s few bird races and fewer flying races.

As an Aaracokra you +2 to Dexterity and +1 to Wisdom which we’ll be keeping because I don’t know if your DM will allow Tasha’s rules. You also get 50 feet of Flight but you can’t be wearing Medium or Heavy Armor to do this, which means I don’t get to say “something something Medium Armor.” And finally you can buck someone to deal damage equal to a d4 plus your Strength; technically their Talons which deal slashing damage but feel free to view them however you want.

If I was to build Fluttershy I’d honestly use the Owlfolk UA race (which will hopefully be out in Wild Beyond the Witchlight and / or Strixhaven) for a multitude of reasons, the most notable of which being the fact that you can fly with Medium armor as an Owlfolk. But the Detect Magic Ritual ability is also nice as is the reaction to stop yourself from falling. Unfortunately Aaracokra technically made more sense since Fluttershy can’t detect magic.

Basically even I have to make choices which are suboptimal in order to ensure maximum roleplay, and even when I play my builds I change them to make them better to play.

ABILITY SCORES

15; WISDOM - You are compassionate and good with animals: both those things are Wisdom skills!

14; DEXTERITY - Since I can’t go “something something medium armor” for this build (yay Aaracokra) I guess getting a 16 in DEX thanks to your race is a good call. If playing an Owlfolk or something you can afford to having 14 total in DEX, as you can then wear medium armor.

13; CONSTITUTION - Look, roleplay stats are great and all but so is not dying.

12; CHARISMA - You are cute small pony... bird... Pony-bird...

10; INTELLIGENCE - Most of your time was spent taking care of animals and most of your knowledge comes from on-hand training as opposed to studying. Basically you’re not Twilight.

8; STRENGTH - As a young filly Rainbow Dash would do most of the heavy lifting for you. As a young mare Rainbow Dash still does most the heavy lifting for you. She is a Barbarian after all!

BACKGROUND

Most ponies know to come to you if their pets are in trouble, and if you’ve ever had pets you know the doctor that helps them is a true Folk Hero. As a Folk Hero you get proficiency in Animal Handling (yay) but I’d swap the Survival proficiency out for Stealth because well... you’re very good at hiding. You also get proficiency with Land Vehicles (most Land Vehicles in D&D are controlled by animals; usually horses! Wait... aren’t you a horse?) and an Artisan’s Tool of your choice: go for Carpenter’s Tools to make some bird houses and chicken coops!

After living in Ponyville for so long most ponies are willing to give you some Rustic Hospitality, giving you a warm place to rest and recover... as long as you can get over your crippling shyness! Eep!

(Artwork by probablyfakeblonde on DeviantArt.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - CLERIC 1

Starting off as a Cleric because I thought Wisdom and Charisma saves were more fitting for Fluttershy, and for the Insight and Medicine skill proficiencies.

As a Cleric you get to choose your subclass at level 1, and there’s nothing you love more than a little bit of Peace and quiet. As a Peace Cleric you get proficiency in Performance thanks to Implement of Peace, for those great MLP song numbers. But more importantly you can call on the power of friendship for an Emboldening Bond!

As an action, you choose a number of friends within 30 feet of you (this can include yourself) equal to your proficiency bonus. Your friendship bonds them together for 10 minutes or until you use this feature again. While any bonded creature is within 30 feet of another they get a d4 they can add to an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw once per turn. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

And finally we can talk about the Spellcasting! You get three cantrips from the Cleric list at level 1: Guidance is always welcome among friends, and Spare the Dying can be a literal life safer! Other than that you are still expected to fight in D&D so take Sacred Flame to defend yourself. You can also prepare a number of spells equal to your Cleric level plus your Wisdom modifier. As a Peace Domain Cleric you can inspire Heroism among your friends, or protect yourself (and hide!) with Sanctuary.

Other than that Healing Word is a staple healing spell (we aren’t taking Cure Wounds right now for reasons but feel free to prepare it), Shield of Faith will let you defend your allies, Protection from Evil and Good will help you invoke the Elements of Harmony against the big bad of the season, and Detect Evil and Good will help you find the Elements of Harmony!

You could also take Bless, but I’m not going to tell you to take Bless because optimizers would crucify me for telling you to double up on d4s.

LEVEL 2 - CLERIC 2

Second level Clerics get their Channel Divinity once per short rest and you have a variety of options to choose from:

Turn Undead will make skeletons and zombies not want to hurt the cute little ponies, which will force them to run away for awhile.

Balm of Peace (the main reason we took the second level in Cleric) will let you run around and heal all your friends for 2d6 plus your Wisdom modifier.

And Harness Divine Power (ty Tasha’s) will let you recover a spell slot, but can only be used a limited amount of times per Long Rest.

You can also prepare another spell and be a little less nice with Command. Telling your enemies to “LOVE” isn’t going to be that effective, but making them grovel or drop works just as fine.

LEVEL 3 - RANGER 1

When you spend enough time around animals you’re automatically either a Ranger or a Druid. Quinn? Never heard of ‘em. Regardless multiclassing into Ranger gives you proficiency in a skill from the Ranger list and it’s good to know about Nature so you can find plants to help your fluffy buddies! Deft Explorer also gives you two language proficiencies (again: pick your poison) and Expertise in a skill. You’ll never guess which skill we’ll be getting... it’s Animal Handling. You’re good with animals.

We actually aren’t going to be taking Favored Foe because we aren’t using weapons for one, but more importantly despite it’s name Favored Enemy is also good for tracking friends! You have advantage on Survival checks to track your favored “enemies”, as well as on Intelligence checks to recall information about them. Go for Beasts to easily find a feathered or fluffy friend! Oh and you also get more languages because I don’t know why, so again pick your poison.

LEVEL 4 - RANGER 2

Second level Rangers get their Fighting Style, or as I like to call it your Helping Style because we’ll be going for Druidic Warrior! You can pick up two cantrips from the Druid list: I opted for Druidcraft (you can grow some flowers for your friends; yay!) and Mending to tend to your cottage.

And of course with cantrips we also get more Spellcasting! You can learn two spells from the Druid list: you’re never not going to want Cure Wounds (which is why we didn’t take it earlier btw) and Animal Friendship is an obvious must.

LEVEL 5 - RANGER 3

Third level Rangers get to choose their Ranger Archetype and we’ll be going for the Gloomsta- Ah you all know it’s going to be Beast Master. You get a Ranger’s Companion not from the PHB but from Tasha’s! The Beast of Land would make the most sense and while it’s probably expected that they be a wolf or something you can pretend that you’re playing Fighting is Magic and have Angel Bunny fight for you! Anyways here’s a crash course on your new fluffy friend:

Their AC is equal to 13 plus your proficiency bonus (currently 16.)

Their health is equal to 5 + five times your Ranger level (currently 20) and they have a number of d8 hit die equal to your Ranger level.

They have a 40 foot movement speed and a 40 foot climbing speed.

You can command it to attack with your bonus action; it has the same hit chance as your spell hit chance (WIS mod + Prof Bonus [currently 6]) and deals a d8 + 2 + prof bonus damage.

If they move at least 20 feet straight toward a target and then hit with an attack on the same turn, the target takes an extra 1d6 slashing damage and must make a Strength saving throw against your spell save DC (if they’re a creature.) If they fail they’re knocked prone.

You can command the beast to attack, dash, disengage, or hide with your bonus action.

If you don’t command it they take the dodge action.

You can revive them with a spell of first level or higher 1 hour after they die, and can change your beast after a long rest.

Man, who knew that taking care of a pet was so difficult? Well you also get Primeval Awareness (because Primal Awareness actually doesn’t work that well for this build.) You can use your action and one spell slot to sense the following types of creatures within 1 mile of you: aberrations, celestials, dragons, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead. This lasts for one minute, and doesn’t reveal the creatures’ location or number.

And you learn another spell: Goodberry is good to feed yourself and all your friends! As long as they’re okay with eating berries, of course. C’mon... they’re good for you! Pleeeease?

(Artwork by AssasinMonkey on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 6 - RANGER 4

Finally an Ability Score Improvement... or Feat? We’ll be going for Eldritch Adept, which is admittedly weird but it’s the only way to get Beast Speech so you can Speak with Animals at will! Is total level 6 a little late to finally be able to speak with animals? Yeah, but this is unlimited so it fits better and doesn’t spend your spell slots.

LEVEL 7 - CLERIC 3

Finally back to Cleric land which means finally we can prepare some second level spells! As a Peace domain Cleric you automatically get Aid and Warding Bond prepared, both of which are very good for keeping your friends alive. You can also finally get Hold Person to finally have The Stare!

LEVEL 8 - CLERIC 4

Level 4 in Cleric means another Ability Score Improvement: Wisdom is still your core stat so increasing that by 2 would be your best choice.

You also get another cantrip at this level, and can prepare two more spells! For cantrips I’d recommend Light to see with your dumb bird eyes unless you’re an Owlfolk, and I’d recommend preparing Lesser Restoration and Enhance Ability to further boost your friends.

(Artwork by Koveliana on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 9 - CLERIC 5

5th level Clerics can now Destroy Undead of CR 1/2 or lower with their Channel Divinity. Don’t feel too bad about it; they were big dumb meanies anyways!

You can also prepare third level spells too! As a Peace Domain Cleric you get Beacon of Hope to help with healing, and Spike can send letters out for you with Sending. You can also prepare Dispel Magic in case Twilight needs help with more dangerous spells.

LEVEL 10 - CLERIC 6

6th level Peace Clerics get Protective Bond. When a creature affected by your Emboldening Bond is about to take damage, another bonded creature within 30 feet of the first can use its reaction to teleport to an unoccupied space within 5 feet of the first creature. That creature then takes all the damage instead. It’s worth mentioning that since this specifies “creature” you can actually bond with your beast companion and have it use its reaction, or have others go in to defend angel.

You can also prepare another third level spell like Revivify, so you don’t lose any friends. And to top it off you can use your Channel Divinity twice per short rest! Woohoo!

LEVEL 11 - CLERIC 7

7th level Cleric, 4th level spells. As a Peace Domain Cleric you get Aura of Purity to protect your friends, and Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere to put your enemies in time out. You can also prepare another spell like Freedom of Movement, in case you need to run!

LEVEL 12 - CLERIC 8

8th level Clerics get a variety of features. To start off you get an Ability Score Improvement, which means we can finally cap off your Wisdom for maximum spellcasting! This also means you can prepare more spells, but we’re actually going to hold off on getting more spells for now.

You can also put a little more LOVE into your spells with Potent Spellcasting, adding your Wisdom modifier to the damage of your Cleric cantrips. And finally your Channel Divinity will now Destroy Undead or CR 1 or lower.

LEVEL 13 - CLERIC 9

The reason we held off on getting more Cleric spells last level is because now we get those big 5th level spells! As a Peace Domain Cleric you can help your friends out of any jam with Greater Restoration, and know what they really mean to say thanks to Rary’s Telepathic Bond.

You can also prepare some of those big hitter spells like Mass Cure Wounds to save your friends, and you can cast both Dawn and Summon Celestial to call on Celestia herself! Isn’t that Twilight’s job? Well, it’s still good to have contacts!

(Artwork by CigarsCigarettes on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 14 - RANGER 5

Now that we’ve got all the support we could need for our friends it’s time to return to our roots and focus on Angel! Feel free to focus more on Ranger instead of Cleric if you so desire when building this yourself; I simply opted for more healing instead of damage.

We’re finally 5th level with Ranger which finally means you’ll be getting an Extra Attack!... Which you probably won’t use because you can use cantrips instead. Well it’s still nice to have?

The good thing though is that you can learn more Ranger spells like Healing Spirit, which is a really strong healing spell that was kinda gutted by erratas. But it’s still nice and efficient regardless of what spell slot you casted it at, effectively being a 6d6 heal for a second level spell slot!

LEVEL 15 - RANGER 6

6th level Rangers can now add Roving to their list of skills from Deft Explorer. Your movement speed increases by 5 feet, and you get both a climbing and swimming speed equal to your walking speed. Is total level 15 a little late to get a 30 foot movement speed? Yeah probably, but every little bit helps!

Speaking of another little bit you get another Favored Enemy... I mean friend! ...I don’t know pick whatever you think will be relevant for the campaign. Also yes: you do get more languages, because Ranger.

LEVEL 16 - RANGER 7

7th level Beast Masters have Exceptional Training with their Animal Companion. You can use a bonus action to command the beast to take the Dash, Disengage, or Help action on its turn... which you could already do anyways thanks to Tasha’s.

I’d say that after Tasha’s this feature would work even if you don’t command your beast, but as always discuss the rules with your DM.

Well at least Angel’s attacks count as magical to overcome resistances, which is good because you were probably dealing with nonmagical resistance for awhile now.

You can also prepare another spell like Pass Without Trace, so you and your friends can sneak around unseen. Pass Without Trace is one of those spells that is always useful regardless of what level you are, so picking it up now is still useful!

LEVEL 17 - RANGER 8

8th level Rangers get another Ability Score Improvement. You’ve probably noticed our uneven Constitution score by this point: yeah that was because we were going to grab Resilient Constitution at some point. Increasing your CON gives you a nice +17 to your health and makes your Constitution saves (and concentration saves!) a +8 total.

You’ve also spent so much time on the ground moving through nonmagical difficult terrain costs you no extra movement thanks to Land’s Stride. You can also pass through nonmagical plants without being slowed by them or taking damage from them. Additionally, you have advantage on saving throws against plants that are magically created or manipulated to impede movement. You may be able to fly but that doesn’t mean being able to move on the ground isn’t useful!

(Artwork by AssasinMonkey on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 18 - RANGER 9

9th level Rangers can learn third level spells, and you’ve probably spent enough time training with Rainbow Dash by this point to make a Wind Wall to protect your friends! (Basically the Ranger spell list sucks and we’re only really going down Ranger still for more subclass features.)

LEVEL 19 - RANGER 10

You get a new feature from Deft Explorer at this level: you are now Tireless! As an action you can give yourself a number of temporary hit points equal to 1d8 plus your Wisdom modifier (so 5.) You can use this action a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest. Additionally whenever you finish a short rest your exhaustion level is decreased by 1.

You’re also a master of avoiding social interaction. Nature’s Veil lets you turn invisible as a Bonus Action until the start of your next turn. You can also use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and regain all expended uses when you finish a Long Rest.

LEVEL 20 - RANGER 11

11th level Beast Masters can invoke Bestial Fury! With 11 level in Ranger and 20 total levels in this build your Animal Companion can now... attack twice! Look Beast Master is playable now, I never said it was good.

At least you can learn one last Ranger spell: in your ultimate stand against darkness Daylight will help you banish the dark! ...Or something. Look again: the Ranger spell list sucks.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

You do not hurt my friends! You got that? - Even with the multiclassing you still get spell slots up to 7th level, and have more than enough magic to shake a stick at. Not to mention that Angel will always be by your side to pump out a bit more damage with your Bonus Action!

You’re the cutest thing ever - Maxed out Wisdom was rather expected from a Cleric, but Expertise in Animal Handling combined with unlimited Beast Speech means that you can easily make friends with any beast you come across! Just make sure your DM is okay with you giving a hydra belly rubs.

Whatever you wanna do is fine... - You’ve got quite a good mix of features that will help you both in and out of combat, meaning that there’s plenty that your friends can rely on you to help with! In fact there’s a lot of things that only you can do as a Ranger which are quite helpful!

CONS

You’re such a loudmouth... - Most of your class resources only come back after a Long Rest, with only your Channel Divinity coming back after a Short Rest. You’re still plenty capable with just Angel by your side but don’t spend everything in one fight, or else you’ll be left with nothing but Sacred Flame and Animal Companion attacks.

Are you coughing because... - So let’s talk about Angel: even with 11 levels in Ranger they’re not great. AC of 19 is pretty good but they’ll probably max out around 60 HP. Your average Wizard will have more HP than this by level 20. Two maul attacks will do decent damage but you could get equal value out of Spiritual Weapon, and you only get the second attack with Angel at total build level 20. And yeah for most of this build Angel is going to be sitting around 25 max HP, meaning they’re likely to go down a lot. Aid can help keep your pets healthy and happy but don’t be upset when your level 4 Ranger companion keeps going down.

Awful, just awful! - We kinda miss the best of both worlds for the sake of a build that’s “in-character.” No 10th level of Cleric means no Divine Intervention (even if it’s only a 10% chance it’s still good to have), and no 12th level of Ranger means no ASIs. One good thing about this build is that it does peak around level 10 or so where the multiclassing doesn’t start to damage it, but if you really expect to run all the way to level 20 I’d sooner play either a straight Ranger or a straight Cleric.

But you’re coming along to share your kindness with everypony around you, and guide your friends to victory! Use your expertise to keep your friends alive while Angel kicks some major tail! Get down and be assertive, but remember not to push yourself too hard. Everypony already loves you for who you are, even if you’re in fact a little shy.

(Artwork by Rodrigues404 on DeviantArt.)

#dnd #dnd build #dnd guide #My Little Pony #Friendship is Magic #mlp: fim #brony #dnd ranger #dnd cleric #fluttershy #flutter pony #animals

14 notes · View notes

mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

Text

Heart in My Hand (15x18 “Despair” coda, Dean-centric, Destiel. post-that scene)

(ao3 link)

He was right there.

Cas was telling Dean everything he ever wanted to hear since meeting the angel of the Lord... only each and every word of his confession stabbed at Dean's heart. Because once he finished, there's no more time for them. For him. For any chance of happiness - all that taken away by the Empty. And now he has to carry on.

He tries. Stands, gets in his car and drives where Sam tells him. When he meets with the others, though...

Dean spots them easily, only two people left on the planet besides himself. Standing in the middle of the street, waiting. He rolls to a stop near some crashed truck and an abandoned bag of groceries that spills out the top. Egg yolks oozing into a small puddle, mixing with freely leaking juice burning bright against dark asphalt. Visible even from where he sits inside his car.

With Sam and Jack advancing, Dean crams the rest of his emotions down. Puts on a brave face. What he sees in his rearview isn’t anything like that. Trembling lips. Red, blotchy skin. Wide eyes that look more haunted than an average, Midwestern home. It’s better than how he appeared earlier. And since they’re already here, he must move on. Steeling himself, he exits his car.

“Dean,” Jack starts, glancing from him to his empty car, “Where’s Cas?”

Dean fails, again. “Cas…” He croaks, words blocked by the boulder that wedged into his throat once that black portal of despair vanished. Water traces familiar pathways down his cheeks, Dean steadying himself on his open door. Hisses panicked breaths through clenched teeth. “Cas, he…”

“Oh.” Sam stumbles backwards, news dealing its own damage. Jack stares at Dean, jaw hanging limply. Gaze wet from threatening tears. “Was it…” his brother coughs, regaining his footing, “was it Billie?”

He shakes his head, still not ready to speak. Voice abandoning him like… well.

“Chuck?” Jack asks, inching closer. “Did Chuck make him crumble, too?”

Dean nearly forgot. Chuck… if only. His anger would have a target, instead of hanging around him as if it were a fog. Miasma thick he cannot see past a never-ending reel of those few, long minutes. Cas’s parting message replaying ad nauseum. “No,” he manages, staring at Baby’s roof. “No, he – he sacrificed… to take out… to save…” Gasping, Dean lolls his head upwards. Staring up at an empty sky, sending what’s left of his sentence into the heavens.

Someone approaches, lays a hand on his elbow. There because it hovered over Dean’s shoulder and chose a different path. Dean felt how close it came to fitting over his angel’s mark. Heard a sharp intake of breath after they noticed it, confirming Dean’s suspicion. “Dean,” Sam says – of course it’d be him. He recognizes his little brother’s voice. Especially when he forces confidence through his tone. It lacks, however, as an undercurrent of worry threaded through it. “Dean,” he continues, “what happened?”

First, he searches for Jack. The younger boy leans across from Dean, waiting. Curious. Heartbroken. “He,” Dean whispers, knees buckling under him, “Billie was out for blood and – and we couldn’t stop her on our own. So Cas, he…” Sam’s grip tightens on his elbow, adds another supportive touch to Dean’s armpit. Keeps him standing. Dean thanks Sam by letting his hands stay. “We were dead to rights. So Cas… let himself be happy.”

Jack’s muttered curse resolves a lingering question, whether he knew. Doubly confirmed since Jack draws further attention to himself, slamming his fist on Baby’s roof. Dean doesn’t raise his usual objections. “The Empty,” he says.

“The Empty?” Sam glances between Jack and Dean, “What would… why would the Empty be there? When Cas is happy – what are you talking about?”

“A deal Sammy,” Dean says. Louder, rougher. Shattering the eerie silence of this deserted city scape. “He made a deal with that damned thing, his life for… for…”

“For mine.” Jack tilts his head, brows drawn in such a mirror of his father Dean nearly collapses where he stood. He remains strong. “When I was in Heaven, after I… I died, the first time.” Sighing, he stretches towards them. Extending an empty palm in a gesture of regret. “I’m… I’m so sorry –“

“No.” Dean slides his own hand, taking Jack’s. Squeezes it. Grounding himself further. “I don’t… it’s not your fault. Cas made the deal. He – he’s made his choice. It’s… if he had the chance to go back, he’d still do it. Again and again. That’s who he is.” Dean hiccups, face cracking as his mouth stretches wide, gracing the others with a rueful smile. “Putting everyone’s needs before himself even if it… even if it meant he could never…” He shudders, Cas’s peaceful expression when the Empty struck frozen in his mind. “Too good, Cas was – he was too good –“

“Dean, Dean!” Sam tore Dean away from Jack and Baby, carrying him off to sit on the sidewalk’s curb. Bent him, head between knees, helping him work past growing hysterics. Jack followed them, hovering. Shadow blocking the sun from shining above, casting him in darkness. Thinking this makes Dean spiral further. “Breathe Dean, just breathe.”

It’s stupid. Dean wastes valuable time, their world crumbling all around them. And what is he doing? Crying. Making Sam and Jack comfort him because Dean lost the shovel he usually buries his feelings with. Empty probably taking that, too. It’s stupid. Maddening. Also, completely unavoidable.

Dean wondered if, one day, he might shatter so completely gathering those pieces might prove impossible. He has his answer, at the worst possible moment.

Soon he calms, and Dean can lift his head without flashing back there.

“Dean…” Sam starts, cautiously. Treating Dean too carefully given how far into this war they’re in. “Dean, Cas’s deal… the Empty wanted him happy?” Nodding, Dean waits for the next question. Dreading it. “What… what did he do?”

Sam hadn’t broken down, when they found Eileen’s duffel – and her phone. Recovered best he could and shouldered his pain. Allowed those seconds of grief, then used it as fuel. Whereas Dean drags his suffering into eternity. Mourns his best friend, and their lost potential. A stolen future. Years spent in denial. If he’d taken a chance earlier… at some point. “Cas,” Dean sighs, “he let himself… he confessed…” Explaining it was too difficult, but Sam needed to know. Jack, too. “He loved me, Sam.” Laughing, Dean wipes at his eyes. “He loved me, after all I – he still… he loved me, and that killed him.” Whispering, he repeats, “He loved me.”

Sam’s features shifted, journeying from shock to a pitying understanding. Rubs comfortingly at his back, sighing. “Loving you was what made him happiest?”

“Yeah… it was, it was so simple…” Dean uncurls, teetering, flirting with the idea of lying on his back. He and Jack trade a fleeting glance, Dean checking his reaction. Not surprised in the slightest. Kid’s too damned insightful. “Just admitting it was enough and… and you know what he said? He said he… Cas believed it was something he could never have?” His chest tightens, and Dean scoffs. “I don’t… how could that be – how could loving me be, I’m… how can I be Cas’s happiness? Out of all he could have had, and what he wanted was me – what I… what I thought I could never have.”

“Don’t say that Dean,” Sam admonishes, “you are worthy of having love.”

Shrugging, Dean turns from his and Jack’s heavy stares. Looks at the pooling egg yolk again; focuses on that spreading mess. “Cas said about as much, before the Empty… had this whole speech that I – it felt like I was being peeled away. Called me out for… it all feels so meaningless. Is that what it felt like, with Eileen? Being with someone who can see through you and make all this big stuff seem – well, seem not so big anymore?” Sam agrees, as much. “There we were Billie hot on our heels. Waiting for death, and he spits out the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I almost forgot what was going on. It was just him and me… him seeing – seeing me. And you know what I did? Not a goddamn thing…”

“Dean…”

“I could barely speak, I – I was so scared,” Dean admits, “if you’d’ve been there Sam, the look of – look of finality that was there, alongside the love, and peace, and happiness. I always wanted to hear him say that, couldn’t predict him saying all of that… I would’ve traded it if it meant he’d stay. And I can – I get to have him in the only way we could. But he made up his mind, like with Jack. Took Billie down, and him, too. Leaving me there – alone – that it… when I finally said it back, I was too late.”

They echoed. Hung in the air. Mingled with Cas’s blood on his sleeve and the fresh tears pouring out of him. Shook Dean down to the very core of his being, barely hearing it past the low pitch of static filling his ears. Dean thought those words innumerably before, imagined different scenarios, played pretend in the comfort of his room where no one can see.

No one ever will, now.

“I…” Dean tries saying his truth. It doesn’t want to come out. He continues regardless, “I miss him, Sam. Why do we do this? Hurt everyone we’ve ever cared about? Hell, the whole world’s collateral damage because of us!” Exhausted, Dean gives in. Falls fully off the cliff, lying on the sidewalk. Arms spread beside him while he watches endless blue.

Sam squeezes his knee, “I miss her too. I miss them all.” He stands, adding another shadow. Jack’s advancing, too. Blanketing Dean in a strange temperature. Not cold, still there’s an absence of warmth he notes. “But it’s not on us. It’s Chuck. Always has been…”

“Then is this it?” Dean asks, “One last play, even if it kills us? Even if it can’t bring everyone back?”

“At least we died fighting, then.”

Dean cannot argue with this. He doesn’t feel too inclined to move yet. “For them,” he says, closing his eyes. “This isn’t about us, anymore. It’s about all of them. The world… our family… Eileen and – and Cas.”

Their shadows move. He senses them leave, sunlight returning. Bringing with it more memories. Of how it felt first hearing Cas say it. A natural glow that lit from within. Snuffed in Cas’s next breath, as Billie’s fist pounded on the door, and when the bitterness of Cas’s declaration hit his tastebuds. Dean grasps for that feeling, basking under the sun. Pretends it’s Cas giving him that gorgeous, soul-shattering smile. Encouraging him into his final battle. Telling him it’ll be over soon, he’ll be done, and that he loves him.

He loves him. He loves him. He loves him.

“I love you Cas.”

Dean will rise. Gather what little he, Sam, and Jack have and rush at Chuck until there truly is nothing left. Of this world. Or of them. But that’s later.

Right now, Dean dreams of his losses. Apologizes, one by one, faces blurring together as he starts counting strangers his mind saved for no purpose other than to make him carry more crosses. Never his, though.

Cas’s face shines uninterrupted, clearly, like the sun. There even as everything else fades. In the safety of his mind, where the Empty can’t steal him. In the safety of his heart, that Chuck can’t control. In his hands, wearing Cas’s blood like a badge of honor and pride.

And love.

#supernatural #spn #spn15 #15x18 despair #dean winchester #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn coda #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel coda #deancas coda #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel

62 notes · View notes

grailfinders · 3 years

Text

Fate and Phantasms #132: Mordred (Rider)

It’s surf’s up on today’s Fate and Phantasms, but instead of CGI penguins we’re making Rider Mordred! We’re bringing the big waves and some fancy footwork to keep you afloat while your enemies all sink to the bottom.

Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: Isn’t it super weird seeing your teacher on vacation?

Race and Background

Mordred’s a Variant Human, giving him +1 Dexterity and Constitution, Nature proficiency so you’ll know when a big wave’s coming, and the Martial Adept feat for your first surfing tricks. Evasive Footwork adds you superiority die (a d6) to your AC while you move, and a Pushing Attack lets you lean into the wave when you strike, dealing 1d6 extra damage, and forcing a strength save (DC 8+proficiency+your dexterity) on the target, or they get pushed up to 15 feet away. You can use either of these maneuvers once per short rest.

Taking up surfing makes you an Athlete, giving you proficiency with Acrobatics and Athletics. (You also get land vehicle proficiency, but you could easily argue for sea vehicles instead.) You also get the Echoes of Victory feature, giving you a 50% chance of finding a fan in a city within 100 miles of your hometown who’ll give you shelter or info.

Ability Scores

If you want to stay on a surfboard for any amount of time, your Dexterity has got to be top notch. You also need a good sense of balance- that’s Wisdom. Your Constitution is also pretty good, because let’s be honest, wiping out hurts. Your Charisma isn’t bad, though it might be hard to hear you over the waves. Your Strength is pretty low: you’re not weak, but it’s hard to get leverage on a floating piece of wood. Finally, dump Intelligence. I don’t even need an excuse for this, int was your dump stat normally too.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: If you want to fight people while also balancing on a piece of wood, monk’s probably your best bet, let’s just be real here. At first level you get Unarmored Defense, giving you an AC of 10 plus your dexterity mod plus your wisdom mod so you can still duke it out in a bikini. You also get Martial Arts, now all your monk attacks deal at least 1d4, and that grows as you level up. You can also use dexterity instead of strength when you hit people with monk weapons or your fists, and you can make an unarmed attack as a bonus action if you attack as your main action. There’s no rule saying you can’t kick them as you surf over them, so freestyle a bit. I hear judges love that.

You also get proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as two monk skills. History and Religion are kind of vanilla servant skills, but you already got all the physical stuff you need from your background.

2. Monk 2: At second level, monks get Ki points each short rest equal to your monk level. You can spend these to dash, disengage, dodge, or attack twice as a bonus action. You also get Unarmored Movement, bumping up your walking speed by 10 feet. I’m not entirely sure how that affects your surfing, that’s something your DM has to figure out.

You also get a Dedicated Weapon at the end of each rest, letting you turn a nonmonk weapon into a monk weapon for your martial arts, as long as you’re proficient in it and it isn’t two-handed. I’d argue a surfboard is versatile since you can wield it no-handed, but we still need that proficiency. We’re working on it.

3. Monk 3: If you want to surf good you gotta be able to sway with the waves, and there’s no monk better at swaying than the Drunken Master. You get proficiency in Performance for cool tricks, and you also learn the Drunken Technique. When you use your flurry of blows (that’s the attack twice thing from last level), you also disengage, and your walking speed increases by 10 feet.

You can also Deflect Missiles, reducing the damage from ranged attacks and possibly throwing it back as a reaction, but that’s not really relevant.

4. Monk 4: Fourth level monks get their first Ability Score Improvement, and we’re grabbing the Tavern Brawler feat. Honestly, this feat is almost completely useless to us. The +1 to constitution or strength probably won’t help either, your unarmed strikes already use d4s, and you spend your bonus actions doing a lot more than grappling. But it does give you proficiency with improvised weapons, meaning your surfboard is a go for monkification!

You can also Slow Fall as a reaction to make your wipeouts a bit less painful.

5. Druid 1: Surfing is fun and all, but you can’t expect a wave everywhere you go, especially not inland.

Or can you? Druids can tip the scales a bit thanks to their Spells, which they cast and prepare using their Wisdom. Also, they learn Druidic. It’s a language.

You get the cantrips Frostbite and Shape Water for some early wave control (more of a splash really) and you can also cast first level spells now. Create or Destroy Water will continue the liquid theme we’ve got, and you can also cast stuff like Protection from Evil and Good and Cure Wounds if you want to play paladin.

6. Druid 2: Second level druids pick a druid circle to join, and if you want the gnarliest waves you gotta head to the Coast, brah! Specifically, the Circle of Land, which gives you a Natural Recovery, letting you regain some spell slots on a short rest once per short rest. The combined level you can gain is half your druid level, rounded up.

You can also use your Wild Shape twice per short rest to transform into a non flying, non swimming creature of CR 1/4 or less. That’s not very in character though, so you can also use it to summon a Wild Companion without using components or spell slots.

You also learn Guidance for slightly better wave riding. Turn off your targeting computer, Mordred...

7. Druid 3: Third level druid, second level spells. You also get new circle spells that you don’t need to prepare, Mirror Image and Misty Step. Copying yourself isn’t in character, but you could probably flavor the latter spell as a really cool surfboarding trick though.

You could also cast Enhance Ability for even better tricks, Pass without Trace because it’s hard to track a piece of wood, and Heat Metal. You have a history with iron and heat, and it’s not a peaceful one.

8. Monk 5: Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack each time they attack as an action, and they can turn an attack into a Stunning Strike, forcing a constitution save (DC 8+proficiency+Wisdom) or the creature they hit gets stunned for a round. You might think not being able to do stuff and giving your enemies advantage on all their attacks would make it hard to stay alive.

You’d be right.

9. Druid 4: Back in druid for a bit, your wild shape gets a bit better, giving you swimming options and creatures of CR 1/2 or lower. I mean, you can’t prove Mordred can’t turn into a frog. You also get another ASI, so bump up that Wisdom for more AC, stronger spells, and better stunning strikes.

You can also cast Create Bonfire for a summer cookout!

10. Druid 5: Fifth level druids get third level spells, and this is the level you really come into your own. Your circle spells are Water Breathing and Water Walk, which do exactly what you think they do, and they are useful, but we’re here for some other stuff.

You can also get Tidal Wave to create a 30′x10′x10′ wave, forcing a dexterity save for all creatures in that area. On a failure, creatures in the area take bludgeoning damage and get knocked prone. Also, the water spreads out afterwards-an attack and an escape route all in one!

If you’d rather a more permanent swell, Wall of Water gives you a wall. Of water. Ranged attacks through the wall are at disadvantage, fire attacks deal half damage, and cold based attacks can freeze the wall.

11. Monk 6: Sixth level monks get Ki-empowered Strikes, making your fists magical against resistances. You also get more acrobatic on your board thanks to your Tipsy Sway. You can Leap to Your Feet after a wipeout, going from prone to standing in only 5 feet. You can also Redirect Attack by spending a ki point when a creature misses you with a melee attack, spending it at another nearby creature instead.

12. Monk 7: Your boarding’s gotten fast enough you can outrun explosions. Your Evasion means failed dexterity saves deal as much damage to you as successes would, and successes deal no damage at all.

You also gain a Stillness of Mind, letting you end a charming or frightening effect as an action.

13. Monk 8: Use this ASI to bring your Dexterity even higher, for a better AC and stronger attacks. Who knew monks like dex?

14. Druid 6: Bouncing back to druid one last time gives you the Land’s Stride, letting you ignore difficult terrain that isn’t made by magic. You also ignore damage from regular plants, and have advantage on saves caused by magical ones. That’s great, because going around on a deserted island with just a bikini on would otherwise be a terrible idea.

15. Druid 7: Your fourth level circle spells are Freedom of Movement and the reason we’re still in this class, Control Water. As long as the spell lasts (up to 10 minutes with concentration) you can control a 100 foot cube of water, causing it to flood, part for your nonsurfing friends, change the flow of water, or create a whirlpool. Flooding is particularly powerful- if done it water, it instead creates a 20′ tall wave that passes through the entire area, with a 25 percent chance of capsizing any Huge or smaller vehicles it catches, and carrying them to the other side. The wave even automatically repeats each turn, so yeah, you can basically shoot down any boat in the game with this.

16. Druid 8: Your last level of druid lets you fly with your wild shape, and you get another ASI for a stronger Wisdom score. You’re kicking up some serious waves now, so you have to make sure your balance is top-notch.

17. Monk 9: Ninth level monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, letting you walk on water and walls. Paddling’s for dorks, just run out to where the action is! (You do have to get to solid ground before the end of your turn, but your board probably counts)

18. Monk 10: Tenth level monks have a Purity of Body that makes them immune to disease and poison. Nobody wants to get sick during the summer.

19. Monk 11: Your last Drunken Master goodiebag contains Drunkard’s Luck, letting you spend 2 ki points to do a cool flip, negating disadvantage on an ability check, attack roll, or save.

20. Monk 12: Your capstone level is another ASI, maxing out your Dexterity. It’s not a flashy way to end things, but it is pretty useful.

Pros:

Like a lot of monks, you’re pretty hard to hit, with an AC of 19, the ability to disengage while still hitting people, and a solid +30 to your movement speed while in combat. It’s not even a matter of your armor being good when people just can’t keep up.

Tidal Wave and Control Water are honestly just really good spells, albeit you need a water themed adventure to get the latter’s full power. Also, if you try to surf on your own wave your DM is legally required to give you inspiration, that’s just science.

Not only is your mobility good in combat, if you’re willing to bend canon a bit you can also combine it with your wild shape for utility. A +30 to movement plus being a bird can make moving around much easier.

Cons

Waves are cool and all, but that still means you have a heavy focus on water. If you’re going up against something that resists cold damage, or you’re in a setting that’s landlocked, you’re going to have a bad time.

Taking those druid levels slows your monk progression, and it doesn’t really pay off for this build until you get third level spells. That means you’re dumping a lot of resources into payoff way in the future, while slowing down your AC and martial arts growth.

Using a surfboard as a weapon is really cool, but how effective it is will depend entirely on what the DM makes it. If you have confidence in your DM, this isn’t an issue, but we like to make builds with the least amount of DM caveat as possible here.

#Fate Grand Order #FGO #Mordred #D&D 5e #Fate and Phantasms #Monk #Druid

14 notes · View notes

selfless1978 · 3 years

Video

youtube

What a fool he had been. Only now was he understanding what he was losing. And that understanding fueled his speed as he left from rooftop to rooftop, racing across the city. He just couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t.....

Leo remembered with a sharp pain when he had rebuffed her. How he had pushed her away. She had hoped, dreamed, for a life with him and he in return shattered that hope the night she had confessed her feelings. Bitter was his heart now as he thought back on that day well over a year ago. Bitter with himself.

She had been crushed. Attempted to hide her watering eyes with a smile and he knew he had just broke her heart. But he had stood firmly by his reasoning. He couldn’t indulge her in those fantasies, because of what he was and the life he lived. It was too dangerous, he had firmly told her. She would be a distraction to him and that would jeopardize his entire family. She herself would be in danger if it was ever found out. He couldn’t commit to her fully. He wasn’t ready to risk five lives, seven if you added April and Casey, just for one to be happy. Then he clenched his jaw as he remembered the final blow he gave her in an attempt to dissuade her.

That he didn’t feel the same way about her that she did about him.

She had smiled. Said that she understood and apologized for bringing it up. She kept herself together well in front of him, smiling bravely. It wasn’t until she turned away that the first tear fell and her lip began to lightly tremble. She walked out of the dojo with the normal bounce in her step gone, shoulders slumped and his keen hearing had clearly picked up the first, quiet, sob. None of that made him change his mind. He watched her go, ignoring the pain in his own heart because that last line was a lie.

She still came to the lair after that but it was obvious that things had changed. She didn’t feel comfortable there anymore. Leo could clearly see it. Her posture was tense and the conversations with him were strained, though she still got along very well with the rest of his family. Then, little by little, she began to come less frequent. Almost every day turned into couple of days in the week, then to once a week. Then a couple times a month to....not at all. And he was the reason why.

It was through April that he found out she was seeing someone. How she seemed happy with this man. Even hearing this he held firm to his reasoning and told him she was better off. Then the news of the wedding came. And this was where he had to take a long hard look at himself. As long as she was single, he could keep up this facade. But the thought of her married, and more than likely moving away....

God damn he had been an idiot....

In front of him the church finally came into view and he doubled his efforts. He had to make it in time, he just had to.....

Vicky had closed her eyes while taking a deep breath in and slowly letting it out. Those brown orbs opened to the sight of the closed heavy wooden doors that led to the main hall. Waiting for the music that was her cue to enter. Surrounding her were servants since she had no one close to her to attend. They fussed over her dress, making sure that the train was perfect while the head of the body guards held out his arm to walk her down the aisle. Everything was set up to perfection from the dress to the flowers. Just the way he wanted it. She glanced down at her beautiful bouquet of red roses. Not the color she preferred, but she wasn’t paying for this lavish wedding so she really didn’t care.

For a moment, doubt filled her. She could still back out of this. She could tell him that she wasn’t ready. Honestly, she never really would be ready. But Daichi, with his question if she would be his wife, promised to dim the memories of a hoped for love. Ease the pain of rejection. Save her from the hurting loneliness that had almost ended her. Marrying Daichi would be the step she needed to take to finally get him out of her head and heart. Brooding over a love that never would be returned would do nothing but drive her mad. She had to move on.

Daichi had from the first day she met him treated her with respect, even if there was something cold about him she just couldn’t put her finger on. There was also still some mystery of what he exactly did with his time. Sure, she knew about his multimillion business, but he was sometimes, oddly evasive about his comings and goings on his free time. Vicky could put up with that she supposed. He offered her a good life where she wouldn’t want of anything. Or, almost anything.

His face came to her mind just as the music began and the doors opened, causing her to hesitate before she was pulled along by her escort. She stumbled a bit before she caught herself and matched steps with her entourage. Giving Daichi a smile that suddenly seemed less genuine. She could still say no.

And then what? Go back to her lonely apartment? Think about him? Daydream fantasies that would just cause her to break out in tears? Drown herself in wishful thinking?

Vicky let her eyes wander. Taking in the decor that seemed to be saturated in red. As before when she looking in here during the preparations, she felt a shiver run down her spine. There was just something...ominous about it all. His invited co-workers and employees seemed to be stern and grim faced as they watched her walk. Some even cold, calculating. Even Daichi seemed different as he stood there. Imperial. His eyes held no warmth for her.

She shook those observations away. She was nervous, she told herself, and it was interfering with what she was seeing.

Vicky finally stepped next to him. Painfully aware that there was no one here for her. Because there was no one to invite really. Daichi gave her his charming smile as she took her place next to him. She returned it with her perfected mask. Hiding the doubts and insecurities inside of her.

“Vicky!”

Her eyes grew wide. This was a voice she never expected to hear. “Don’t....”

She spun around, along with everyone else, to find the owner. It had come from up high somewhere. But he was hidden in the shadows of the ceiling. No matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t pick him out in the late evening darkness.

Vicky didn’t realize that her breath had caught in her throat and she forced herself to breath, even if she couldn’t find the words to speak. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Emotions she had thought she had been getting over surged through her and tears welled up in her eyes. She was so taken aback that she didn’t notice Daichi’s father, a large and imposing man, stand up in angered shock as he too looked towards where the voice came from.

Then, those dark eyes that had always intimidated her turned to glare at her. For a moment fear filled her at that menacing gaze as Oruku Saki spoke directly to her. “I know that voice.” He growled as he stepped closer. “You know him? Leonardo? One of the turtles!” He roared the last line. “You dare to use my son so you can be a filthy spy?!”

Vicky was now terrified. She had no idea what was going on. She didn’t know what this man was trying to say. And she definitely wasn’t prepared for Daichi to spin her around by the arm and slap her viscously. “You will pay for this!”

“Pay for what!” Vicky screamed back, hurt and confused by everything going on.

“Don’t play innocent with me!” Daichi roared back, his hand up to strike her again. Even as confused as she was, she was in no way going to let him turn her into a punching bag. Her fist clenched around the bouquet of flowers, and she was full on ready to punch him before he even got the chance.

She was too slow. Before she could even set her arm into motion, for offense or defense, the offending arm was roughly grabbed from the side. Daichi tried to pull his arm free, but the owner of that gripping hand was almost as unmovable as stone.

Leo glared at the man, then hauled the man up, over and sent him flying into his father even as he was roaring at the gathered individuals to stop them. They crashed together in a pile of flailing arms and legs even as Leo cooly pulled out his katana. “Get behind me.”

Still so confused, and watching her past and present collide in front of her, she was in no way able to argue with him. Words still failed her as she watched what unfolded in front of her. Leo was like a blue and green hurricane in this sea of black formalwear. His expression was calm, cool as he seemed to easily hold the press at bay while she stood there, frustration at everything causing tears to well up in her eyes. She watched as her would be husband finally regained his composure and footing. His eyes now gleaming dangerously as he and his father approached the distracted Leo. Her eyes growing wide when she noticed that, somehow, they were both armed. She had mere moments to decide what to do. Should she try and somehow mend things with Daichi? Even though he was showing his true colors to her? Or should she help Leo? The one who had harshly pushed her away when she had tried to follow her heart?

Vicky was torn with this agonizing decision. She was hurt and angry, at both of them. This was supposed to be the day she started a new life, not end up in the middle of a brawl.

Twin trails of moisture now slid down her cheeks. Regardless, she was going to lose one or the other. Maybe even both. She then did something she hadn’t trusted herself to do for a very long time.

Vicky let her heart decide.

Fist clenching once more around her flowers, she stepped forward. And she unleashed all of her frustration, anger, pain and torment through those red roses. The thorny bushel slammed into Daichi’s face. And then again. She set her arm on rapid fire and beat the man almost senseless as blood red petals began to fly all over the place. Soon it was only the hard stems that she had left, and she slapped him silly with those too. Daichi was taken aback by her sudden ferocity and didn’t react right away, and but he time he did Leo had already became aware of the danger.

The large turtle took on both father and son. Never faltering in his pace as he kept them both away from her. Vicky watched him in awe. Something she had always felt when she watched him and his brothers train. She could only dream to be able to move like that. So smooth, so fluid.

Her eyes grew wide as she looked around. Leo had single handedly wiped out almost the entire gathering. She turned those brown orbs to look at him. She was completely stunned. And even more so when Leo managed to knock back both father and son, took a quick look around to see many getting back up. What happened next took just a blink of an eye.

Leo swung his katana at her.

They sliced cleanly and swiftly through the heavy fabric of her dress, leaving her legs now bare from the upper thighs. She only had a brief moment to look down in shock at the white cloth puddle at her feet before she felt the sudden jerk of Leo pulling her to him and lifted her up into his arms. He then ran, ducking and dodging his way through the rapid thickening crowd before reaching a side door and kicking it open.

The cool night air washed over her bare skin as he scrambled up a neighboring building to put some distance between them and the chaos left behind. They didn’t speak, Leo was more focused on his footing than holding a conversation. especially one that was more than likely going to go south as soon as either one opened their mouth. High in the air between buildings wasn’t the right place really to get into a shouting match, and Vicky could shout very loud if she were angry enough.

“Put me down.” She finally managed, her voice trembling with the effort of trying to keep it calm. A deceptive calm, but calm nonetheless.

Leo, knowing they were now far enough away, obliged her request. He settled on a high building over looking the city not far from Central Park. The view could be described as romantic, if there wasn’t a storm brewing. A Vicky storm.

He was silent as he waited. Once he had put her down she had abruptly turned away from him to look out over the city. He had no clue how this emotional woman would react if he spoke when she wasn’t ready. Her entire body was shaking and he felt the sharp pain of guilt punch him in the gut. He couldn’t stay silent anymore, he had done so long enough already.

“Vicky-”

“How could you!” As feared, his voice burst the dam. She spun around to face him. Her dress in tatters, her carefully done hair now reduced to a frizzy mess, the tears in her eyes freely flowing causing her makeup to run. She looked like something out of a horror movie, and she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. Once again he was reminded how much of a fool he had been. “How could you! I was finally getting over you! About to start a new life! I could have been-”

“Happy?” That one interrupted word silenced her tirade. “Vicky, I think you and I both know that wasn’t going to happen.”

“Happier than being alone.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Also a lie.” his blue ones were still watching her.

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Leo? Huh?” Her tearful eyes flew over to meet his finally. “That I was going to sit and rot while I pined for you? You made it very clear that I made a complete fool out of myself that day. I wasn’t going to waste anymore time on someone who-”

“Was stupid.” He calmly broke in again, stepping closer. That admission had silenced her, brown eyes going wide as what he said registered. Another step and he was right in front of her. “I am so sorry, Vicky. I thought I could protect you if I didn’t let you get that close. I didn’t want to risk you getting pulled into everything and become a target.”

“If I had been worried about that, I never would have brought it up.” Was her broken voiced reply. “I know the risks, I’m not stupid. I wanted to try anyway. I wanted to....I....just.....” She looked away from him again, now unable to stop the crying when it hit. The hurt, the pain, the embarrassment, the sting from his rejection all pouring out after months of keeping it in. Her entire body shuddered from her sobs to the point she couldn’t stay on her feet and collapsed to the cold rooftop. “I just wanted to love you....”

Not even thinking about it, he knelt in front of her. Pulling her to him in a tight embrace. At first she resisted but she was too tired of everything to really fight her feelings anymore and she gave in, letting him pull her into his arms. He held her for as long as she needed to calm. She was blubbering all over his chest and gear, but he wasn’t too worried about it. Only when she let out that finally, shuddering, sob did he move. Gently cupping his hand under her chin so she looked at him directly. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her lips while she just stared wide eyed at him. “I love you, Vicky. I always have. I’m here for you, if you still want me.”

Vicky didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t talk anyway even if she did since her lip began to tremble again. Then, with a shaky nod, she threw her arms around his neck. Leo closed his eyes in relief and wrapped his around her, burying his beak into her hair. “I know this isn’t an instant fix, Dear one. We have a lot to talk about and need to sort our feelings out, but I’m wanting to give it a go.”

She just held him tighter.

He kissed her hair and got to his feet, with her once more in his arms. “Let’s go home.”

@lady-maria-the-wolf225

You remember that wedding crashing turtle prompt from awhile back? here you go! ^_^

#sorry this took so long!#stupid life

10 notes · View notes

thebluenoteblog · 4 years

Text

A Mother’s Love

*Requested*

Summary: When you and Colton get into an argument over some furniture for the nursery, some words are said that can’t be taken back.

Player: Colton Parayko

Word Count: 2.6k

You leaned back against the couch, with a pile of old books spread out in front of you. You were halfway torn between admiring them and wondering how you were going to get up off the floor when you inevitably had to pee. In your mind, that registered as a problem for future you, albeit a very near future you, but future you nonetheless.

You leaned forward and picked up a large yellow book. It was your favorite when you were a little girl. Your father used to read you bedtime stories out of it when he made it home in time, and you would get so excited every time he pulled out this exact book.

You’d been so excited when your mother showed up on your front porch with a laundry basket full of your childhood books. You’d grown up loving the pictures and the words and you wanted the little girl growing inside of you to have that same experience. The idea that she would be inspired by the same pages that inspired you brought tears to your eyes. You blamed the hormones.

You blinked them back when you heard a key turn in the lock of the front door soon followed by it pushing open. You looked up to meet Colton’s eyes. You smiled at him, “Look what my mom found,” You said. “She saved them all these years for my kids. Now here we are.”

Your boyfriend of two years scanned his eyes over the piles of books spread out across the floor. “That’s really cool babe.” He said, then he turned to head into the kitchen, “But where are you going to put them?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his back as he disappeared around the corner. “What do you mean? I’ll put them on the bookshelf you ordered for the nursery. It should be ready any day now, right?” He didn’t say anything, but you could hear the sound of bottles moving around in the refrigerator. “You ordered the bookshelf, right Colton?”

He reappeared in the entryway of the living room with a Gatorade in his hand and leaned against the doorframe. “I guess I forgot. I’ve been really busy.”

You attempted to push yourself up off the floor, really not appreciating the power dynamic you were about to create by arguing with a six-foot six man while sitting on the floor. He rushed over to you, placed his bottle on the coffee table and bent over to help you up. He slid his hands under your arms and essentially lifted you to your feet and while you didn’t need that much help, the thought was appreciated.

The lack of thought behind him forgetting to order the one thing you’d asked him to order for your daughter’s nursery, however, that was not appreciated. Even on your feet, you were over a foot shorter than Colton, but damn if you didn’t know that there was something to be said about a pissed off pregnant woman giving you the look of death. “You’ve been busy?” You asked him, “If you’re too busy to order a bookshelf, how are you going to be a dad?”

There were those hormones again. Irrational? Maybe a little. Was there a damn thing you could do to stop yourself? No.

He blinked at you a few times, like he was running your words through his brain. First, he looked hurt, then he looked angry. “Are you saying that I’m going to be a bad dad?”

There was two years’ worth of resentment that you didn’t even know existed bottled up in your voice when you snapped back, “I’m saying that hockey is always going to come first for you. The game, the team, then your family. We get whatever scraps are left over. That’s why you forgot about the bookshelf. It isn’t the first time you’ve forgotten something important and it won’t be the last.”

“Damn it, (Y/N).” He said, taking a step closer to you. You were about as close as your twenty-five-week belly would allow you to be, “You knew what my life was like when you met me.”

“Yeah, I guess I thought you would make your baby a little more of a priority,” You said, hands on your hips and head held high. You had decided the moment you found out you were having a girl that you would be the best role model you could be. You would be the woman you needed when you were a girl. That meant standing your ground, even when it hurt. That meant making sure her dad knew that she should be his priority.

Colton’s next words came without hesitation, leaving his mouth so quickly that there was no chance he’d had time to think about them before he had said them. “I didn’t even want this baby!”

You could have heard a pin drop in the resounding silence that followed his comment. You placed your hand over your belly, over your daughter, who you already knew you would do anything in the world to protect, and you backed a step away from him. Then another. You shook your head as tears sprang to your eyes.

He reached out a hand for you, “(Y/N)-,”

“Shut up.” You said, continuing to shake your head as though if you shook it hard enough you could shake the past minute out of your head. “Just shut up.”

He pressed his lips together but didn’t drop his hand, tentatively reaching out to place it on your arm which was crossed protectively over your belly. You jerked away from him and looked up at him with horrified eyes. He opened his mouth, presumably to say something along the lines of, I didn’t mean it, or I swear I want her now. The thing was, it didn’t matter. He did mean it. His words had been to quick, to harsh and if he wanted her now, he never would have said it.

You turned, stepping around all the books and headed up the stairs. He followed closely at your heal. “(Y/N), please stop.” He begged as you made it to the top of the stairs. You passed the nursery and slammed the door closed, as the thundering sound reverberated through the house Colton flinched. “Please listen to me.”

You made it to the master bedroom and when he attempted to follow you through the door, he was met with the second thundering slam of the night. This time right in his face. It was closely followed by the sound of a lock turning. He tried the handle a few times and then pounded on the door three times before allowing his head to fall against it. He slid to the floor and groaned. “(Y/N), please let me in. I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I feel horrible. Please let me see you.”

On the other side of the door, you did your best to tune him out as you shoved clothes into your duffel bag. You grabbed your laptop off the bedside table where you’d left it the night before and put it on the top, threw in a few chargers, zipped up the bag then threw open the door.

Colton tumbled over but caught himself halfway to the floor, then quickly climbed to his feet. His eyes immediately landed on the bag on your shoulder. They widened and his face turned pink. “Where are you going?” He asked, his hands twitching at his sides like he was contemplating trying to stop you but thought better of it.

“I don’t know.” You answered, “Why do you care. It solves your problems, doesn’t it?” You asked, readjusting the bag on your shoulder and his eyes shifted to it, staring like he couldn’t decide if he should carry it for you or not.

“That isn’t fair and you know it.” He said and his voice was choked. He was right. It wasn’t fair. And you didn’t want to leave. Not when he was a day into a week and a half long home stretch. You didn’t want to give up that time with him. You didn’t want to give up the time that he had off between practices or falling asleep in bed with him at night and waking up next to him in the morning.

But you weren’t doing this for you. You were doing this for your daughter who deserved to have a father who understood how valuable she was. If he wanted to screw you over until kingdom come, so be it. But it would be a cold day in hell before you let him make your daughter feel like she wasn’t wanted.

“Goodbye Colton,” You said softly, no anger left in your voice as you turned and headed down the stairs.

He stood frozen in place for a second, attempting to process what had just happened. Did you leave him for good? Were you ever coming back? He regained use of his limbs and chased you down (which wasn’t very difficult given you were at the stage in your pregnancy where walking was gradually becoming a chore). He ran in front of you and you paused to keep from running into him. You craned your neck to look at his face, “Yes?” You asked.

“Are-,” He swallowed and cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and tried again, “Do you plan on coming home?”

You gave him a small smile, a bit of reassurance because no matter how furious you were with him in the moment, you loved him. You loved him more than you thought you knew how to love anything or anyone in the world until you heard your daughter’s heartbeat for the first time. “Of course, I’ll come home. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Then you stepped around him and within a minute he was watching your car disappear down the street.

****

He ordered the damn bookshelf. One of the custom-built ones from a mom and pop shop, just like you wanted. He paid extra for them to get it done as soon as they could. He would have sucked the old man’s dick if it meant you came home to that god damned bookshelf in the nursery where it belonged.

He finished painting the walls, because he’d been failing there too. You’d gone out and bought the paint a month ago and he’d only painted half a wall. You brought it up a few times, but it was always the same answer, “I’ll get to it soon.”

He put together the crib you’d ordered, and the changing table. He hung pictures and shelves on the wall. The room still didn’t look complete, so he went out and bought a rocking chair and fit it into the corner of the room.

Finally, the bookshelf was delivered. It was mounted to the wall to make it baby safe, and then he filled it with all of your books that he had yet to pick up off the living room floor.

When he finally finished the nursery, five days had passed. He hadn’t slept worth a damn. He’d played the last two games like shit and gotten the biggest ass chewing of his career from Chief over it.

It wasn’t like he could tell anyone why he was playing like garbage and half asleep at the rink at practice every day. Instead he just took it, went home and prayed that you were waiting for him when he got there. For five days you weren’t.

Then on the sixth day, he pulled into the garage so out of it that he didn’t even notice the car parked beside him until he got out, stood up and turned. His heart skipped, and he’d never made it so quickly from the garage into the house in his life. “(Y/N)?” He called out as he closed the door behind him.

“I’m on the couch,” You called back.

He was in the living room in a half a second, sitting down on the couch beside you and pulling you into his arms. “God, I missed you.” He said.

“I missed you too,” you said, wrapping your arms around him.

He pulled back and placed his hands on your face. “I am so sorry, (Y/N). I-… what you said hurt me. It hurt a lot and I was afraid you were right. It scared me.”

“Colton…”

“No. You have to listen to me. I do want this baby. I love her just as much as you do and I’ll be a great dad. Sometimes hockey will have to come first because that’s the way it is and that fucking sucks, but when she needs me I will always be there, and she will always know that.”

You smiled at him, “All I want is for her to know that her parents would do anything in the world for her.”

“I promise she’ll have that,” he said. He rose to his feet and held out his hands to help her stand. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

You took his hands and he helped you stand, then held on to one of them all the way up the stairs as he guided you the nursery door. It appeared to still be closed from when you had slammed it the night you left. He walked in front of you so that he was blocking the door and said, “Close your eyes.”

You gave him a confused side eye, but then did as he said. You closed them and heard the door open, then he was behind you with his hands on your waist guiding you into the room. “Okay, open.”

You did as he instructed and instantly tears sprang to your eyes, because, well… hormones. You covered your mouth with your hand and scanned the room. The walls we no longer white, they were a pale shade of pink. The crib was put together, there was a rug on the floor, a rocking chair in the corner, and a changing table and a dresser against the wall. The closet was open, and you could see all of the onesies that had previously been sitting in a laundry basket were now hanging up.

The best part? The bookshelf. How he’d gotten it made so quickly you didn’t know, but it was there and full of your books and a few new ones. He saw you eying the bookshelf and he said, “I bought some more books. The shelf looked a little empty and those are some I remember having when I was a kid.”

You turned to face him, “When… when did you have time to do all of this?”

He laughed a little, more of a sad, self-deprecating laugh than an amused one, “I haven’t been sleeping much.”

“Well that explains a lot,” you said as you turned and walked to the crib and ran your hand over the sheet.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his placing a hand on his hip, then he shook his head, “Never mind, I know what it means. Please don’t say it.”

You looked up at him and smiled, “This is amazing, babe.”

He took a few tentative steps towards you, “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

You closed the distance, as much of it as you could with your belly in the way and placed your hands on his face. You pulled him down for a kiss as you rose up on your toes. When you broke apart you said, “I could never stay mad at you.”

#colton parayko #colton parayko imagine #colton parayko imagines #hockey imagines #nhl imagines

305 notes · View notes

dorizardthewizard · 4 years

Text

The Revival of Akillian: Chapter 3

Prologue / Chapter 2 / Chapter 4

3. BAD ENCOUNTERS

Taking advantage of a brief return of the sun, D'jok, Thran and Micro-Ice decide to go play football on some flat ground that they have built on the edge of the city. They swept away the snow, drew lines on the shriveled grass with white paint, and constructed goal posts using tubes and poles salvaged from the ruins of the ancient capital. Ahito, Thran's brother, promised that he would join them after his little nap.

Along the way, D'jok kicks the ball that Thran brought, "improved" by himself, because Thran - a little taller than Micro-Ice, short brown hair, flat nose, black almond eyes on a round face - is very handy and fascinated by technology. When watching a Galactik Football match, the technical layout of the pitch interests him almost as much as the game on it. The ball bounces softly off D'jok's foot.

- I've made some improvements again, - Thran explains. - Now it calculates the speed of the ball, just like official Cup balls.

D’jok catches the ball and weighs it in his hands.

- Isn't it a bit heavy?

- It's because of the device inside. I'll have to find a way to alleviate it...

D'jok does a few tests again, head / foot, head / foot. That damn ball would almost give him a headache. Sitting in the grass at the edge of the stairs, Micro-Ice looks at him morosely. He stands up suddenly, and without a word, walks away up the stairs.

- What's wrong with him? - asks Thran.

- In trouble... as usual. - answers D’jok.

- Do you think we can help him?

- Not really.

- Yeah... the usual, then.

Not far away, sitting on another staircase in the middle of a tumble of rocks, Sinedd and his gang play GF-Cards, a game very popular with the fans of Galactik Football, which consists of pitting different players against each other by calculating their odds, strengths, shooting power, defensive or dribbling skills, etc. The cards themselves are the subject of collections and a successful trading market. Sinedd throws down his major asset: Warren.

- And ten! Oh, I won again! Guess I’m just too good.

Dark hair, purple eyes, thick eyebrows, a pointed nose in the middle of a thin triangular face with a determined chin, elegantly dressed (white pants with black legs, a leather jacket with padded shoulders and a high collar), Sinedd is handsome and he knows it. Many girls flock around him, which fills him with pride - worse: arrogance. He believes himself superior to everyone, and easily proves it in many areas: flirting, football... and GF-Cards. His disdainful haughtiness annoys more than one but fascinates others, like the three henchmen who constitute his gang, all devoted to their "leader".

- It's not fair, - nevertheless protests Billy, a tall, skinny blond. – You’ve won four times in a row!

- Sorry bud, it’s not my fault you suck.

With a triumphant smile, he slowly picks up the cards Billy lost.

In the meantime come Thran, D’jok and Micro-Ice - the latter stopping his friends with his outstretched arm.

- D’jok, do you see what I see?

What he sees are Sinedd's shoes, sticking out of the wide, white trouser-legged pants. Techno-Sizor 128... of course he wears the brand, the best of the best for champions like him.

Micro-Ice walks up to him with a smirk.

- Nice pumps! They must leave beautiful footprints...

Sinedd scrutinizes him, frowning.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.

- Listen here, Sinedd! – Micro-Ice gets angry. - I know you stole the tickets from me!

- What tickets?

- Don't act all innocent! You came to my house and searched my room!

- Oh! - Sinedd smiles, winking at his friends. - If I understand correctly, was something stolen from you? How touching, Micro-Ice. Tell me when to cry!

- Hey, guys! He doesn't just have super kicks... he also has a beautiful brand-new Magnet-Board! - exclaims D'jok while standing on a rock, brandishing the machine in question: an ideal board for surfing on all terrains.

Billy and the others huddle together, ready to leap onto the rock - Sinedd stays where he is: he cherishes his Magnet-Board too much, and this nutcase D'jok might break it before his friends manage to reach it.

- Give it back to me now, you hear!

- Not until you've returned Micro-Ice’s tickets.

- You really can’t do anything without D'jok, eh! – sneers Sinedd at Micro-Ice between clenched teeth.

- That’s what friends are for, right?

The two glare defiantly at each other - Sinedd also faces Thran, rather unpleasantly. With four on three he would stand a chance of coming out on top in a fight, but D’jok still wields his Magnet-Board and Sinedd is as worried about losing it as he is of taking a bad hit. He gets another idea.

He winks again at his defensive gang, takes a step back and takes on an air of resignation.

- Okay, okay... fine, you win. I'll bring you the tickets tomorrow morning without fail in front of the Great Rift. (He turns to D'jok and points an accusatory finger at him.) And if there's a single scratch on my Board, I'll take care of you, D'jok!

- Whatever you say, Sinedd, - smiles the latter, the Magnet-Board under his arm.

Sinedd waves to his gang and goes down the stairs, grumbling:

- I'll get you, you bastard.

However, he has to admit that D’jok is stronger than him. Sinedd can round up all his friends tomorrow morning in front of the Great Rift, but D'jok and Micro-Ice may do the same. Sinedd doesn't really like to fight, it's not one of the areas where he is strongest. He prefers to take up his challenges with the ball, cards in hand, or even chatting in front of a hot chick. This meeting was not a very good idea, after all. He should just let Ballow and his goons take care of those brats... yeah, that's a lot better.

***

After having left the Magnet-Board at Thran’s place (safer than with Micro-Ice or D'jok, the cave of Maia being very famous) and waking up his brother Ahito, deeply asleep as usual, the four companions go to the Cafeteria, their favorite bar, to watch the Lightnings vs. Shadows game. They could watch it at either of their houses, but the Cafeteria has comfortable sofas, there is food and drink, and above all a giant screen that allows them to immerse themselves more in the game.

As soon as they make themselves comfortable on a sofa facing the screen, Ahito falls asleep. (Ahito looks a lot like his brother, he just has longer hair and, though we do not know why, ski goggles perpetually raised on his forehead.) Yet Thran woke him up a few minutes ago…

- He falls asleep so quickly, I’ll never understand it! - D'jok remarks.

- Yeah, - Thran added, - I've seen him fall asleep at the table, while still chewing, with his head on his plate.

- Too bad, he’ll miss everything...

Micro-Ice refers to the screen on which the Technoid logo appears, against a background of thunderous music.

- Well, you see, I’m not so sure about that. - smiles Thran.

Comments on Ahito's ailment - we can call it that, given the impressive number of hours he spends sleeping - cease, as the match begins.

It starts very strongly: the Shadows and Lightnings are roughly evenly matched, the Smog of the former rivals the power of the Charge of the latter, and each team has its star players: Fulmugus, with his magical dribbling, and Niilis are the gifted among the Shadows; the beautiful Sarlight and especially the great Warren for the Lightnings. The action is super-fast, to the point that it is difficult to follow the ball, which crosses the field like a bombshell, takes off in the air like a rocket, bounces against the magnetic grids surrounding the stadium at the speed of a pinball. It’s always followed or controlled by someone who dribbles, passes, shoots, headers, stops the ball in a bewildering somersault ten meters above the ground. The rival, with an acrobatic kickback, faces his opponent in a breath-taking aerial duel, in a fireworks display of black emanations of Smog and bluish flashes of Charge.

“Of course, it's a friendly match,” clarifies the commentator. “Of course, there are no stakes. Of course, no one has an interest in getting hurt! However, each team really has the will to prove to the other that it is already in full possession of its means, as the qualifying phases of the next Galactik Football Cup approach!”

- Hey, look! Warren has the ball! - cries Thran excitedly.

- Yeah, Warren! Go! Shoot! - shouts Micro-Ice.

Warren is of course everyone's idol. Next to his muscular two metres in height, Aarch would almost pass for a weakling. In his combination of shades of blue, his face also blue surrounded by a white beard, he imposes in front of the slender Fulmugus, all dressed in black, his long brown hair flying around him. However, both compete in virtuosity, Smog and Charge mixing in black and pale blue flashes. It's rare that one manages to stand out from the other, and the whole match revolves around the duel between these two titans of the GF. On-the-fly ball control, shots and counter-shots, dribbles, tackles and passes and returns - both invariably go neck and neck. But Warren's size and long strides give him a slight advantage, even though the Shadows' Smog allows them to “teleport” instantly. Taking advantage of a tiny error by Fulmugus, Warren manages to regain the ball and immediately rushes towards the opposing goal, followed by his two attackers and the Shadow defence. Warren dribbles past the two defenders, passes to Sarlight who remained slightly behind, which disorients the rear Shadows for a fraction of a second, enough for Sarlight to immediately pass back to Warren who shoots - without even aiming, it seems. The ball shoots overhead and sinks into the net, grazing the top bar - despite his lightning reflexes, the Shadow goalkeeper misses the ball by a hair. 1-0 for the Lightnings.

The whole stadium jumps up as one in a tremendous ovation. It's delirium also in the Cafeteria, where all the customers support Warren and the Lightnings against the dark Shadows. Thran, D'jok and Micro-Ice scream and jump on the couch, waking Ahito who also yells:

- Yeah! Go, Warren!

Whereupon he closes his eyes and begins to snore again.

- Did you see that shot? - rejoiced D'jok. - Right in the corner! He really is too good!

- Yeah, - Micro-Ice nods. - He's not human, that's all. Nobody comes close to him. No one!

- By my calculations, the ball hit the net at nearly 200 per hour, - says Thran, looking at a device he made. – Of course, it's an As-1000, the best of the best!

In the meantime, Gail, Micro-Ice's mother, arrives. Employed as a waitress in the Cafeteria, she is very dapper in her orange and red uniform, pushing an anti-gravity tray loaded with drinks and food.

- The SuperForms and the pizzas go to these gentlemen. - she says, putting the tray on the table.

- Whoa, awesome! Thank you, ma'am! – says Thran, licking his lips.

The enticing scent wakes Ahito, who echoes:

- Thank you, ma'am!

- Not me, thank the boss! Besides, I wonder why he likes you so much…

- Our charm, no doubt! - suggests Micro-Ice with a wink.

That makes everyone laugh, because the boss-cook of the Cafeteria is a Cyclops, as sensitive to the charm of Humans as they are to that of a toad.

- In any case, - resumed Gail, - I’m counting on you to behave. This job is not much, but I care about it!

- Don't worry mom, we'll be quiet, - promises Micro-Ice to his mother, who returns to the counter.

- You know us! - adds D'jok. She turns around and looks at them apprehensively.

- Well yes, precisely...

As the boys munch on their pizza - their eyes riveted on the screen where the match resumes - upstairs, near the large glass roof behind which a waterfall flows, Aarch and Clamp are also following the match, but only partly. Clamp had met up with Aarch to show him a gadget of his invention. He takes out of his pocket a sort of flattened sphere made of composite materials, fitted with a holographic projector at its top.

- It's a machine that allows you to study the head game. Look.

He turns on the device. A figure appears in the tiny holo field, using its head to bounce a sphere representing a ball. Normal at first, the movement quickly becomes jerky, then accelerates until it becomes a blurry haze of pixels. The appliance whistles and smells of hot circuits. Clamp turns it off when it starts to smoke.

- Yeah, well, ok... there may be two or three more settings to fine-tune, but overall, it works!

Aarch isn’t really paying attention to his friend's rough invention. With his elbows on his knees, he holds his head in his hands, sighing.

- And if I don’t belong here, after all? - he mumbles, discouraged. - It's been so long…

- You're not going to give up everything because of those cranky grumblers?

- Ah, I don't know... - Aarch sighs again.

- What about my machines? – worries Clamp.

- All you have to do is sell them to Technoid.

- Never! During all the years that I worked for them, they were never interested in my inventions!

- Adium is right, I suppose. - Aarch continues. - Akillian's Breath is completely gone.

- The two of us will bring it back! - promises Clamp with a hungry expression.

Aarch stands up and addresses his friend.

- We can't do anything at all, Clamp. We need players, and the ones I saw weren't really, how shall I put it...

While he searches for the words, the elevator of the Cafeteria, located not far from their table, opens on the fat Ballow, his two bodyguards and a third thief, bald and threatening. The four of them head straight for Aarch and Clamp.

- Are you Aarch? - demands Ballow.

- I guess so…

The mobster signals to his goons, who advance on Aarch and Clamp, brandishing tasers - these terrible electric batons which paralyze with every blow, and can even kill someone with a fragile heart.

From the top of the gallery-counter where he went to get new SuperForms, Micro-Ice sees them and turns pale.

- Hey! But what the...? - Clamp asks, straightening up.

The bald man swings his baton, which grazes him and shatters his glasses with sizzling lightning.

- Surely we can talk about this… - begins Aarch. In turn, he narrowly avoids another taser. - Okay, I guess that means no!

- Come on! - shouts Ballow. - Let’s get this over with!

Aarch jumps up and shoves the bald guy, but one of his henchmen hits him with a nasty taser in the kidneys. Aarch doubles over, paralyzed by the pain.

- Aarch! - Clamp rushes in but receives a punch to the stomach and collapses, knocking over the table.

The three goons are about to settle their score when D'jok appears at the foot of the stairs, Thran's ball under his arm.

- Excuse me, gentlemen, please! - he calls out to them. - Could you fight more quietly? That would be nice... you're preventing us from following the match!

In response, Ballow grabs the baton of one of his men and attempts to strike a blow at D’jok, who dodges easily.

- What do you think of this, kid? Is this quiet enough for you?

D'jok drops the ball, wedges it under his foot. Micro-Ice, who is observing him from the top of the gallery, guesses from his tense body what he’s about to do.

- D'jok, no! Don’t do it!

D'jok's foot shoots, the ball flies, hits the skull of the big bald man, who collapses. Its bounce brings it back to D'jok's legs, who wedges it back under his foot.

- Don't get involved in this, kid, if you know what’s good for you! - threatens Ballow, brandishing the taser.

In response, D'jok shoots again - the ball sinks into the stomach of the youngest henchman, who lets go of his baton and doubles over, wincing in pain. This time the ball is intercepted by Thran, who came down to lend a hand to his friend.

- Oops! Sorry, I was cleaning my ball and it just went off on its own. - D'jok quipped.

- Hey, did you see that D'jok? It works! 100 km/h! - Thran pointed to the dial integrated into the ball.

- And I was going easy on them! (D’jok Looks up at the gallery.) Micro-Ice, are you in? Micro-Ice!

Micro-Ice tries to hide behind the railing, but, unfortunately for him, it’s made of glass.

- Well! Micro-Ice! - sneers Ballow. - So, have you found my tickets?

- Uh, well, I'll have them tomorrow, sir! - Micro-Ice stammers.

- Don't worry about lying, kid, Sinedd gave them back to me. He also informed me that we would find you here... (Ballow again gestures to his men, who get up.) Come on! Get rid of these nuisances!

The sinister ones light their tasers again, moving towards D'jok and Thran.

- Ready? - calls D'jok.

- Ready! – answers Thran.

- Ready! - repeats Micro-Ice, running down the stairs.

Thran kicks off, passing to D’jok, who shoots, hitting the big bald man in the temple again. The ball bounces against the canopy and comes back to Micro-Ice's feet who shoots in turn, missing the youngster by a hair. The ball is caught by Aarch, who was recovering on the couch, then throws it up and hits Ballow. It bounces against a wall, is caught by Thran who shoots in a splendid turn - unfortunately in the wrong direction. The ball flies over the gallery, straight towards the counter and the shelves of glasses and bottles stowed behind – there are cries of fear from the audience – but is stopped at the last minute by Ahito, who has emerged from the sofa where he was sleeping the previous second. Ahito passes back to D'jok, who in turn performs a powerful return shot. The ball curls the heads of Ballow and his henchmen, bounces again against the canopy and knocks all four of them in a row, sweeping them away like bowling pins. The ball wisely ends its course under D'jok's foot.

Ballow is the first to stand up. His three henchmen hold their heads, grimacing. They struggle to stand up.

- We’ll meet again! - Ballow shouts as he scurries past D'jok.

- With pleasure.

The four thugs rush into the elevator, to the cheers of the customers, who applaud this beautiful football battle and its happy outcome.

Micro-Ice reaches out to Aarch and helps him up.

- I owe you one, kids! – smiles Aarch, still in shock, as much from this sporting feat as from the taser.

- No good, sir, - D'jok retorts. - It's just that we don't like to be disturbed during a game.

- You are gifted... how would you like to be part of a club?

- You're funny! - Micro-Ice answers. - Football on Akillian is dead. Without the Breath, we’re no match against the big guys!

He nods towards the screen where Warren and Fulmugus are still grappling, in an explosion of Smog and Charge.

- Well, aside from all that, - resumes D’jok, - we have a game to finish watching.

- Yes, yes, of course... I understand. Go for it. And may the best win!

- It will be Warren, sir! - says Thran.

They all go upstairs to get back together in front of the screen and their cold pizzas. Left alone, Aarch and Clamp exchange a look of connivance... maybe, Breath or no Breath, there are not only dummies left on Akillian.

***

It’s just half-time, when Gail takes the opportunity to stand in front of the screen and scold the four boys:

- I thought I told you not to cause any trouble!

- It's not our fault, ma'am, D’jok was justified. You saw!

- It's never your fault! Just like last time…

- Gail, we're thirsty! – came a call from the bar.

She sighs and returns to her counter. The shouting match is postponed...

Thran gazes proudly at Ahito, who for once has his eyes open, dreamily watching the advertisements parading onto the screen.

- Hey, brother, that was a nice save you made earlier. You see, you can do it if you want to!

- Do you think Aarch noticed that? It feels weird to see him for real, doesn't it?

- Aarch?? - cry his friends in unison.

- Yeah, what? - Ahito smiles. - The super big guy was Aarch, guys. Don't tell me you didn't recognize him?

Immediately, D’jok, Thran and Micro-Ice rush in pursuit of Aarch, who has left the Cafeteria. Taking the sofa for himself, Ahito lies down, just to take a nap during the adverts. So much action is tiring...

In Akillian's blue night, Aarch and Clamp quietly descend the staircase that leads to the city centre and their hotel.

- You see, Clamp, I feel that with your machines and my ideas, we're going to do great things.

- That’s what I’ve been telling you, Aarch!

#galactik football #the revival of akillian #might post some thoughts separately later

18 notes · View notes

donatello-writes · 4 years

Text

Not Quite Human - Part IV

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Mystified by your date's bizarre actions, you wandered about your apartment, racking your brain as to where you'd gone wrong. Overthinking was your specialty, and you feared that perhaps you moved too fast, making him feel uncomfortable. Mortification painted your face as you hoped that wasn't the reason. Noticing Noodle sniffing around excitedly by the couch, you walked over to see what he was so interested in. Kneeling down for a closer look, you found a few pale green flecks dotting your carpet. They were lightly iridescent with a rough texture, almost like the skin of a snake. "...Are these...Scales?"

The sound of labored breath, laden with guilt, echoed through the otherwise silent midnight alleyways of New York city. Donatello felt like a fugitive fleeing from the scene of a crime as he darted from rooftop to rooftop, further distancing himself from you. The crisp October air burned his throat, but not as badly as the words left unsaid. He failed to have the courage to finally come clean about what he actually was: a mutant. The fear that surrounded him admitting his truth to you was paralyzing, knowing the outcome would most likely result in him never seeing you again. There was no chance that someone as perfect as you would want to be with a freakish reject like him. Beauty and the Beast is a lovely story, but things like that never happened in real life.

Engrossed in thought, he was unprepared when his two-toed feet split through the small converse shoes, causing him to lose footing and tumble across the next rooftop. As he laid face-first on the cold and unforgiving concrete, he vowed to replace the shoes he'd destroyed, they were Mikey's after all. The human-turtle hybrid moved to get up, only to remain on the ground when a sharp pain shot down his back. He involuntarily coiled into a ball in preparation for the worst part of the change. The smooth skin on his back began to crawl before hardening as it reformed into his carapace.

Wincing, the Donatello hugged his own body for comfort. To distract himself from the pain, he focused on the sound of the sweatshirt slowly tearing apart as it surrendered to his expanding form. He felt terrible for destroying your belonging, but due to the intense stress of the moment, he was unable to remove it in time. It wasn't long before his shell triumphantly burst through the clothing, regaining it's rightful place on his back. The mutant breathed a sigh of relief, it was all over. Removing his glasses, and retrieving his mask from his pants pocket, he tied it back onto his face. Surveying his surroundings, he located a nearby manhole and quickly slipped down into it.

Staggering through the sewer tunnels, vision doubled, Donatello struggled to even keep himself upright. Sewage splashed up onto his bare legs with each heavy step that he took. What little material that remained of his tattered jeans clung to his larger mutant form snugly, making movement difficult. This wasn't good. For the first time, he actually felt woozy following his change. Why are the after effects so adverse this time? He thought, mind swiftly consumed by worry. Thankfully, the journey wasn't long, and the lights of the lair soon illuminated his path.

The fatigued terrapin stumbled back into the lair, breathing still strained. Wobbling legs that had been threatening instability the entire jaunt home, finally gave out, and he collapsed like a newborn baby deer. Normally he would have rested before returning home, but he wasn't thinking clearly in his agitated state. Alarmed by the less than graceful entrance, his brothers rushed to his aid. Leonardo was the first at his side, followed closely by the others.

"Donnie, what happened? Where's all of your tech?" the leader in blue questioned.

"I...was attacked by foot soldiers...They ambushed me, I barely escaped...They took everything, but thankfully I awoke before they could do anything else." He lied again, something he abhorred, but had been doing a surprising amount of lately. Mikey tried his best not to react, knowing full well that his older brother's story was likely untrue.

Somehow the genius managed to convince his brethren that he was fine, and stole away to his laboratory. How was he going to explain this to you? After leaving without so much as a goodbye out the bathroom window of your high rise apartment unit. That, in and of itself, would be quite difficult to explain without telling you the truth. Worst part of all being the very moment at which he departed. The two of you were getting rather intimate, and if not for his pesky changing form, he would have stayed. The last thing he wanted you to think was that he wasn't interested in you that way. As if any of that even mattered at this point. Once you saw his true form, that flame of desire would surely die.

Clearly his homemade ooze was unstable, it's effectiveness dwindling with each use. Time was a cruel mistress and refused Donatello any leeway. There was a limit to how many more times he'd be able to turn human, and honestly, he wasn't sure how much much more of it he could take. The formula was still incomplete. There was a key ingredient missing, and he couldn't figure out what.

***************************************

Back at your apartment, you collected the cluster of scales discovered after Donatello's bizarre and hasty departure. Digging a microscope out of the closet and unboxing the device, you carefully set it up. Slipping the scales between slides and under the lens, you examined them. Following some tests, the scales were identified as being of the common North American box turtle. Perhaps Donatello has a pet turtle? It was just odd, as turtles usually shed similarly to snakes, in large sloughs rather than individual scales.

As with most cases where you were in need of immediate answers, you turned to the internet. While navigating the seemingly unending information on box turtles, you happened upon a video. It was an excerpt from a nature documentary explaining their mating habits. The narrator prattled on in his proper English accent about how the males emit what was described as a churr, followed by footage of a male box turtle making an extremely familiar sound. Immediately recognizing it, you sat at your desk for a moment, completely stunned. It was almost identical to the sound you'd heard coming from Donatello.

This new bit of intrigue encouraged further investigation. With the few supplies that you had, you assembled everything needed to conduct a rudimentary DNA test. Running into your laundry room, you retrieved his signature flannel shirt. Upon careful inspection of the garment, you managed to find a hair that you could use for analysis. You placed the hair besides the scales under the lens and had a look. Moving your eye from the microscope, you gasped. Somehow, the structural appearance of each seemed to almost match.

"But that would mean...There's no way."

The tools required to conduct a proper test were not at your disposal, so you were quick to doubt the accuracy of the results. If your hypothesis was correct, Donatello would easily fit the description of those beings you'd heard about on the news. Considering the strides in genetic research that had occurred within the past decade, the existence of such a genetic marvel wasn't completely ludicrous. However, one fact remained: all of this was nothing but speculation until proven. This realization brought your wild theorizing to a halt.

Perhaps a goodnight's sleep would help to clear your restless mind.

Merely an hour or so after your head hit the pillow, a ruckus reverberated down the alley outside of your apartment, stirring you from fitful slumber. Understandably irked by the rude awakening, you grumbled and rolled over in your bed. The sound of a familiar voice among the others swiftly quelled your annoyance, prompting you to venture out of bed and over to the window.

"Donnie...?"

The name came out in the form of a whisper as you gazed skyward to the origin of the commotion. It was difficult to make out detail in the veil of night, but what you could see were four humanoid silhouettes on the rooftop of a neighboring building. The longer you stared, the more you came to realize that these figures weren't human. They had what appeared to be shells on their backs...turtles? Your eyes were drawn to one of them, specifically. The one who appeared to be decorated with various pieces of electronic equipment.

Why do I feel like I know him somehow?

Further investigation was in order. Clumsily stepping through the window, you made your way out onto the fire escape. Still hazy from sleep, little attention was paid to your footing. One misstep was all it took to send you over the rail with a yelp. Thanks to quick reflexes, you managed to grab onto it, leaving you dangling from a dangerous height.

Fingers losing grip with every passing second, it wasn't long before you finally began to fall. Knowing ground impact was immanent, you shut your eyes tight. But instead of hitting the hard pavement, you found yourself being whisked upward. Someone had caught you. Rough, scaly arms surrounded you, holding on tight and trembling ever so slightly. He didn't speak, but he didn't need to, his expression spoke volumes. Jaw dropped, releasing ragged breath, and eyes visibly ravaged by worry from behind his...tortoise shell glasses. This realization came too late, however, as you made the mistake of looking down. Dizziness assaulted your vision and the world swiftly went dark.

Once he climbed your fire escape, his tension eased to see that you had fallen unconscious. That eliminated any awkward questions that he couldn't answer. His voice was too recognizable to you. It could give him away or, at the very least, cause suspicion.

Gently, he laid you down onto the bed. Bringing the covers over you, he then lovingly tucked you in. He couldn't resist resting a hand softly on your cheek. So warm against his cold palm, a reminder of how different you were. It was easy to forget at times while waltzing around in human skin.

Just as he turned to leave, you shifted in your bed and mumbled, "Donnie..." He shuddered at the sound of his own name. Peering over his shoulder, a sigh of relief left him to see that you were still out cold.

It was just a coincidence, he told himself.

***************************************

Awakening with a start, you were bewildered to find yourself in bed. "B-but...impossible."

Throwing off the covers, you ran back to the window, gazing up to find the mysterious creatures had long since vanished. Before falling you could have sworn that you heard Donatello, but it all happened so quickly that you started to doubt yourself. With your crack theory regarding the nerdy lad all but consuming your thoughts as of late, you weren't all that surprised.

It was just a dream...right?

The next day, he called. Despite him being the one who initiated the conversation, you were the first to begin.

“Donnie! About yesterday...If I made you feel uncomfortable at any point, I am so, so sorry.”

“No! That wasn’t it at all! I called to apologize to you.” there was a momentary pause as he collected his thoughts before continuing, “I’ve never been with another person in that way and I just got a bit...overwhelmed.”

Though you maintained that jumping out a window was not the best choice, you understood. Nerves can make a person do crazy things.“Well, if that ever happens again, can you promise me one thing?”

“Of course, anything.”

“Next time, please use the front door.” snorts and laughter came from the other end as he agreed to your terms. After a bit of talking, the two of you made plans to meet up. Excitedly stuffing all of your necessities into your backpack, you immediately headed out.

***************************************

"You forgot something the other night." with a broad smile you then handed over the flannel shirt, neatly folded and cleaned. The scent of lavender and vanilla laundry detergent clung to the material, filling the air with it's pleasant aroma. "It seems as though you're determined to have me keep this."

Noticing a curious purple rag poking out of his pants pocket, you swiped it for further investigation. It looked so familiar, but you couldn't place where you'd seen it before. He jerked after feeling the item leave his pocket and turned to you. Gears were already turning in his head, preparing his answer to whatever you were about to say.

Upon further examination of the brilliantly colored cloth, you came to discover two specifically cut holes in it. Additionally, there were designs up and down both sides. One appeared to be Japanese kanji and the other...*an icon of a turtle*. That was it! The terrapin rescuer of your dreams was wearing a mask almost identical to this one.

"Is this a...mask?"

Without missing a beat, Donatello replied, "Yes, because I'm secretly a crime fighting superhero by night." He said, laughing a bit louder than necessary.

"You did mention that you work at night...The pieces of the Donnie puzzle are finally coming together." with a wry smirk, you played along with his comical hypothetical. As he reached out to reclaim his possession, you swiftly tied to onto your face.

Puckering your lips goofily, you then requested his opinion, "How do I look?" adding to the humorous display with hands on both hips and a sassy rolling of the shoulders.

"I'm not going to lie...you look good in purple. Unfortunately, now I will have to kill you because you know my secret identity. It's such a shame too...I was really starting to like you, we had a good run." as the two of you exchanged a laugh, he wrapped his arms around you; using this as a distraction to remove the mask. "Now, are we just going to fool around or are we going on a date?"

***************************************

Within the next few months, when Donatello wasn't working on the ooze formula, he was out with you. The more time that you spent together, the more he couldn't help but worry about telling you the truth. He was leaving a crucial fact out of the equation: that he wasn't exactly human...Well, not completely. Guilt ate away at his delicate conscience, his anxiety surrounding the matter only worsening with each passing day. The night that you shared together was a close call. It was only a matter of time before it somehow surfaced whether planned or unexpected. Not wanting circumstances to come to the latter, he resolved to tell you on his own terms. It was just a matter of finding the right time.

Going over the plans for the evening in his head, Donatello gathered everything he needed for the night. Dinner, a movie, and a walk through the park. That would allow more than enough time to return to your apartment, and for him to confess to you before the ooze's effectiveness wore off. Without the visual, his story would be hard to believe. A much as it pained him to think of you watching his gruesome shift in form, it needed to be done.

With a heavy sigh, he headed away from the lair and deep into the sewers to take the ooze. Following his change, he donned a Queen t-shirt and squirmed uncomfortably while fitting his suspenders over his shoulders. It felt strange wearing his usual cargo pants. Not only were they ill-fitting on his smaller human body, but they also served to mark the end. The end of being human, the end of being normal, the end of being...with you.

The final touch: his purple flannel over shirt. It would undoubtedly be torn apart when he reverted back, and he couldn't think of a better way to get rid of it. He couldn't keep the article of clothing after all that it came to stand for. The outfit was far from fashionable, but at that point in time, he was in need of functionality. He didn't bother to remove his goggles, there was no point, she'd already seen them. Bedsides, it'd be far better to be prepared in case anything happened.

***************************************

"Nice suspenders, you're really playing up the hot nerd look, huh?" You joked.

Making a point to adjust his glasses he replied, "You know you like it."

Shooting him a smirk, you grabbed hold of his suspenders and pulled him into a kiss. "Oh, I definitely do...And I surrender, the nerdy allure is too much for me to handle! Have mercy!" You both chuckled as you made your way to the restaurant.

Hopping seamlessly from dinner to movie, the date was just as normal as any other. However, once you left the theater and headed off to your next destination, Donatello leaned in and whispered, "I don't mean to alarm you, but...It appears that we have chaperones accompanying our date. They're undoubtedly looking for revenge after what I did to them before." He concluded, and you breathed a sigh of relief. He still didn't know that they were after you, specifically.

After a series of twists, turns, and misdirections that would make even the Scooby Doo gang dizzy, it seemed you had thrown the ruffians off your trail. The detour had taken a decent chunk of time, and by now it was already dark. Given how far you both were from her apartment, he was forced to find a secluded place where there'd be no threat of him being seen as he transformed.

A rooftop.

Taking your hand in his, he led you up a nearby fire escape. You didn't question it, figuring this was still part of your evading the current threat. Once the two of you reached the top, stared up at the sky wistfully before turning to you. Gazing deep into your eyes, he wasn't sure where to begin. After everything that had transpired that night, his time frame was limited. Within the hour, the effects of the ooze would cease and his true appearance revealed.

Noticing his unease, you wrapped your arms around him. The tips of your fingers traced up and down the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. You followed with a delicate touch of the lips. He savored every kiss that you granted him, knowing this would all come to an end once you knew what he really was...a monster...those words still echoed in Donatello's head from that terrible night at the Police station. His analytical brain made sense of the situation, he'd rationalized long ago that what those police had said came from a place of ignorance; however, knowing that fact didn't make their words hurt any less.

"Y/N...I...I haven't been myself lately." He began, words slow and heavy.

Puffing a chuckle, you replied, "It's okay, it happens to the best of us."

"No. You don't understand, I-I'm not hu--"

Angry shouts cut Donatello off from his confession. The Purple Dragons who had been following the two of you earlier had managed to locate you once more. Effortlessly scooping you up into his arms, your beau made a mad dash for the fire escape. While descending the stairs, your phone wriggled free from your pocket and plummeted down to the concrete below. You let out an involuntary shriek as it did so.

"S-sorry, I'll get you a new one!" He promised as you finally reached the bottom. Without hesitation, he then bolted down the alleyway with impressive speed. You looked back to see a few new thugs had joined the chase and were not far behind. The change was upon him, and in a panic, he hastened his pace. He was paying little attention to navigation, but thankfully you were. Recognizing the area, you shouted at Donatello to stop. Unfortunately, the warning came too late, he'd already turned to face a dead end.

Pain finally gripped him and he froze, allowing the pursuers to catch up. Nestled in his arms, you could feel his muscles twitching incessantly, begging to regain their proper form. Surveying his surroundings, there were no fire escapes, no windows, nothing to grab onto to make a getaway. The only thing in this alley was a faulty streetlight that flickered weakly, offering an eerie lighting to the already tense situation.

***************************************

Your piercing screech echoed down the streets, making it's way to the ears of a certain leader in blue. Out with only two of his brothers, he couldn't ignore such an apparent cry of distress. Following the sound, they came to find only the Purple Dragons all converging on one point. Clearly they were up to nothing good, so they silently followed from the rooftops. Eventually coming upon the objects of the chase: a young, unassuming couple.

Raphael tilted his head, perplexed, as he concentrated his gaze on the stranger below, "Hey, doesn't that guy look kinda familiah?" He inquired, nudging his little brother.

"Nope, nope...Haven't seen that dude before in my life." Michelangelo straightened up, trying his best not to seem suspicious. Knowing it was Donatello, and concerned for his safety, the orange masked turtle added, "Should we go down there and help them?" He then looked to his older brethren for guidance. Both of them traded glances before surveying the scene below one more time. The heroic young man was poised to fight off his attackers, and he didn't appear to be a stranger to combat, judging from his solid fighting stance, and the fierce expression on his face.

Leonardo shook his head decisively, "No, if it's not absolutely necessary for us to intervene, we won't. We are not going to risk being seen over a small skirmish." the leader had spoken, and he directed his younger team members to follow him away from the stand-off. Not but a second later, the human man prepared to dish our the much deserved beating that his assailants were begging for.

This was a dead end in every sense of the phrase. Standing between you and the enemy, Donatello held his place firmly. He would do anything it took to ensure your safety. As if some otherworldly force were at work in his favor, just as the miscreants prepared for attack, the streetlight cut out. Scant beams of moonlight streamed in from between the lofty buildings and offered little light to the scene. Low gasps and groans of displeasure came from the Purple Dragons, but not him. He was completely at home in the shadows.

Drawing in a deep breath, Donatello began fighting off the group, and defend you. They all rushed at him, despite their limited vision, and the game was set. Maneuvering through the group with calculated grace, he easily evaded the flurry of fists and weapons. His strikes were deliberate, without a hint of hesitation. There was no time for flourishes like the last fight, this time he was all business. Admittedly, he was putting on a bit of a show to impress you the last time he faced off against these thugs.

Leonardo motioned for his brothers to follow him away from the scene, and the both nodded. Turning back to catch one last glimpse of the show, Raphael's eyes widened. He recognized those fighting movements instantly, they were exactly the same as what he and his brothers learned from Master Splinter. "Guys. Check out this nerd's moves."

Well aware that his shift in form was upon him, Donatello was forced to ignore it, and focus on the fight. Scales began to replace skin, and the sound of tearing fabric rang out into the quieted night. His darkened form appeared to be growing, but that couldn't be possible. A single flash from the streetlight gave you a glimpse of your heroic beau, half-turned. It was only for a split second, but enough.

The two oldest brothers watched in disbelief as this gangly human man slowly took the familiar shape of their brother, far too stunned by what their eyes were beholding to take action. Michelangelo shifted uncomfortably, being privy to the secret, trying to pretend like he was equally as surprised. The leader was speechless, not entirely sure of what he had just witnessed. While beside him, the red brute showed the most visible reaction. A myriad of emotions swept over the red masked turtle's face--shock, fear, and disgust, before finally settling on his usual: anger.

As the transformation persisted, so did Donatello's attackers. He wanted to double over, but couldn't let up his defense for a second. All that he could do was grit his teeth, and tolerate the pain as he continued fending off the assault. There were far too many enemies for him to be concerned with his change at this point in time. Meanwhile, his practically blind assailants were oblivious to his shifting form.

It wasn't until he took down the last of his opponents, and reached for your hand, that he finally came crashing back down to reality from his adrenaline high. His three-pronged, green, scaly hand was outstretched before him, mere inches away from yours. At which point, the streetlight finally decided to remain on, shining brightly down on the newly turned mutant like a spotlight. The otherworldly force was not so benevolent after all.

The orange and red masked brothers were prepared to jump down and interrupt, but Leonardo quickly stopped them. "No...we're not needed here." He stated, knowing this was time that you and Donatello needed alone. The wise leader was able to read the situation effortlessly. Putting the disappointment that he was feeling on the back burner, he chose empathy. Knowing that his sibling was already stressed, he didn't want to compound that by getting involved at this moment.

"Whut??? Didja not see our brother just--" the burly terrapin readied his argument, but was swiftly silenced by the head of the team. "Enough, we're not interfering. We can discuss this with Donnie later, but right now...They need to be alone."

Coming to the realization that you had just witnessed him transform for the first time, Donatello's eyes grew wide with horror and he quickly withdrew his hand. He wished this had happened under better circumstances, but these were the cards that he was dealt. Dread flashed over his features as you stared back at him, transfixed. The expression on your face appeared almost identical to the one in his nightmare. Anxiety at it's peak, he backed away like a frightened animal and absconded without saying a word. There was nothing to be said, his monstrous form spoke for itself, telling the story of his deceit.

The mutant's departure was so swift that he didn't hear your plea for him to stay. By the time you'd found words, he had already disappeared into the night. You stood there, surrounded by fallen enemies, and the many tattered pieces of his flannel shirt that laid strewn about the alley. Kneeling down, one by one you carefully collected the pieces of material. After retrieving every last shred, you stepped over the unconscious men and slowly made your way home in a daze.

Once he had returned to the lair, Donatello shut himself away in his room, head reeling from what had just occurred. The look of fear on your face replayed endlessly in his head as if it were a video on loop. He didn't expect you to accept him like this, he was an abomination of both nature and science. He only wanted for you to be able to lead a normal life, and he was unable to give you that. Knowing this fact made his heart ache.

Surely you wouldn't want to see him again, he concluded pessimistically. Not after watching someone you thought was human horrifically transform into a monster before your very eyes. Someone you trusted...and maybe even...loved? He quickly erased that possibility from his mind, you'd never return your affection for him like this...as a mutant. You loved the human Donatello, and that was the reality of the situation.

You returned to your apartment, utterly dumbfounded by the recent events. From your brief infiltration of Dr. Stockman's laboratory, you knew that he made unbelievable breakthroughs in genetic engineering. Though you were not privy to the specifics of his work, rumors flew within the scientific community that he'd found a way to modify human and animal DNA with his miraculous purple serum. You didn't believe these insane claims, it was something like that seemed unachievable. Despite the fact that you'd been hired to purloin said formula, you still weren't convinced of it's effectiveness. Was Donatello really a human-animal hybrid? Even though you'd witnessed him change into his half-animal form right in front of you, if was still difficult to swallow.

"He's...incredible."

...to be continued.

Tagged a few folks who asked to be:

@ali-on-reverie @fullvoidmoon @notaliteraltoad

#aaand it's done #I sure hope it was worth the wait #cause I don't feel like it was #*dies*#I struggled with this part for some reason I'm sorry guys #I'm just happy that I finished it #bayverse tmnt #tmnt fan fic #tmnt x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #fan fiction #my writing #don's quill pen #not quite human

247 notes · View notes

lumifuer · 4 years

Text

Cold

Pairings: Kylo Ren x Reader Words: 1541 Warnings: Major character death, angst (lots of it), TROS spoilers A/N’s: I’m so sorry in advance.

Summary: Ben decides to save his love’s life at the cost of his own, but the reader doesn’t allow it.

You opened your eyes.

A horrifyingly bright light struck your sense of sight, but you felt as if closing your eyes again would be a blasphemy. You didn't know what had happened yet, but you sensed it was something extremely significant. You were slowly regaining visual acuity. Shapes and colours slowly began to resemble views that were both fresh in your head and thousands of light-years away in time and buried somewhere in your subconsciousness. You realized that you were holding your breath. You gasped and choked as if the act of breathing grew out of your habit already.

Feeling slow came back to the rest of your body, you could feel the sharp needles of frost on the delicate and exposed skin, you knew that you were lying on rough ground. But your body was also supported by something much more pleasant, soft and radiating with warmth. You blinked, eagerly wanting the dark shape of the figure leaning over you to become someone familiar. First, you heard his beating heart, then a warm breath tickling your cheek. A salty teardrop ran down the man's face and slowly rolled down your temple to finally disappear into your tangled hair. You felt its weight, which caused an unbearable headache. You knew how much emotion, suffering and fear were contained in this one little tear.

Like a withered flower, which was saved at the last moment by a downpour, you blossomed again, sitting straight and staring into dark eyes framed by thick eyelashes.

"Ben."

You froze at the sound of your own voice. Did you really call him that? Was that really him?

You narrowed your eyes and your forehead wrinkled in consternation. What actually happened?

At first, Ben looked at you in disbelief, which after a moment turned into a sincere and undisturbed joy. He laughed softly, although you could see signs of fatigue on his face. His wet and clumpy hair fell on his face, sticking to the trickles left by his tears.

"Ben," you repeated, smiling slightly. You were dead. You knew that for sure. You were on the verge of life and death, already putting your foot on the other side, but someone took you away from there. He took you in his arms and brought you to life. Ben, he was the one responsible for it.

Seeing his smile, his eyes, how tired he was, you couldn't think logically. Your instincts combined with feelings took away your ability to decide and before you could think it through, your lips met his, gently absorbing the remains of salty tears and concern. Ben returned the kiss, embracing you and pulling you closer, but the strength with which he did so wasn't comparable with what you felt in his touch. Your shoulders have risen and you closed the space between your bodies, but it still wasn't close enough. Nothing would be satisfying in this situation, you wanted to be right next to him, lose yourself in a kiss, forget what happened to you for a moment. The longer you kissed him for, the more of the world around you began to disappear. You felt the warmth that burned you from within, that great need to belong with him, just as he should belong with you.

Finally, you ended the kiss and looked at him, wanting to see his reaction. His smile did not fade, on the contrary, it gained a heavenly glow. His lips brushed yours again, encouraging further caresses, but he pulled away. You saw a sparkle in his eye, a reminder of hope and a deep desire to change. But it was extinguishing at unbelievable speed.

Ben was also burning away.

His breathing became heavy, slow and shallow. His smile receded, leaving only wrinkles around his eyes. Peace. That's the only way you could describe it. He was the embodiment of silence, a man fully surrendering to his fate, who did something important before his last breath. Something that in his eyes could have been the beginning of redemption. But he wouldn't get the chance to finish this work. His path would end at the very beginning.

But you couldn't allow it.

You could feel it inside, he entwined your heart and was a part of your soul. You knew that by giving you the strength to overcome mortality, he condemned himself to death. Tears threaten to roll down your cheek, but you didn't have time to grieve. You touched his hair, his cheek and gently ran your thumb along his jawline. He was real, so there was still a chance.

Then he suddenly went out.

Ben slipped out of your touch as if someone had smothered the flame of his life. He was falling limply on the cold surface of the rocks, and you didn't have the strength to prevent it. A hand clamped on his shoulder made you follow his fall in a grotesque parody of the position you had found yourself into minutes ago.

"No, no, no," you begged. Your heart was beating painfully in your chest and the world around became blurred from tears. You couldn't allow it. You wouldn't give up without a fight.

You put a hand on his heart and closed your eyes, trying to focus your own energy. It wasn't an easy task - his heart was ceasing to beat rhythmically under your fingers. He was slipping away. You tried to remember the moment when you cured him for the first time. It was a pure instinct, something in your heart was telling you it was the right thing. You touched him, and the Force began to flow through your body, to your fingertips and then spreading to him. Right now, you had troubles feeling the energy within yourself. Maybe it was because of the fact that you had only just received it. You wanted to scream, curse and cry out of powerlessness. But it wasn't the time.

Once again, you searched your mind for the quiet place you'd often find in stressful situations. You locked everything else away and allowed your heartbeat to slow down.

"Come back to me, Ben," you whispered.

Suddenly, you felt the world through the Force - it was surrounding you, buzzing within you and still remaining in Ben - barely. You guided it straight into his body visualising its journey. You saved yourself just enough of it to remain conscious, but the deed had drained you completely. You stared at Ben's lifeless body and cowered in fear. You were weak, heartbroken and alone.

Seconds were passing by but you didn't dare to move an inch. You wouldn't take your eyes off of him in fear of missing any signs of life. You were expecting him to vanish and become one with the Force at any moment. You didn't even have the energy to cry. You dropped your head on your chest and everything went black.

"(Y/N)?" you heard and for a second thought, it was just your imagination.

But then you looked up and your eyes locked with Ben's. He was trying to get up but failing in doing so.

"Don't, you're too weak," you whispered, kneeling next to his side and gently rubbing his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

If you weren't so frail yourself, you would have laughed at his concern.

"I am now," you confessed and poured a lot of effort into smiling for him.

"You saved me."

"We saved each other, Ben."

"You shouldn't have risked your life for me. Especially in this condition."

"I could say the same about you."

Of course, he wouldn't think of his life as one worth saving. He killed his father, failed to protect his mother and was responsible for the destruction of numerous planets and thousands of deaths. Giving up his life in exchange for yours was meant to be his final act of kindness. He felt it was impossible to atone for his deeds, but if he could use his energy to bring you back, he'd do that again with no hesitation.

Ben's eyes searched yours for an answer. Assuming you simply cared for him wasn't something he could easily wrap his head around. But he could still sense the touch of your lips, remembering how your fingertips caressed his cheeks and saw fresh marks of tears on your face. He didn't deserve it, but couldn't stop himself any longer. He jumped forward and wrapped his arm around you, hiding his face in your hair. Your heart skipped a beat but you locked him in a safe embrace. He didn't want to question it any further. Maybe there was a spark of hope for him. Maybe his father was right - he still had time to change. And you were willing to help him do that by seeing the goodness inside him. You were offering him something which was missing for the most part of his life - unconditional love. And he felt the same towards you.

"(Y/N)..." he began weakly.

"I know," you smiled and it was a beginning of something new and beautiful.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ♥

If you like my writing - support me with a hot chocolate? ☕

#ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo x you #ben solo imagine #ben solo one shot #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren imagine #star wars one shot #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #mywriting

189 notes · View notes

michellemagic · 4 years

Text

WMMAP Prompts: Bookstore

@athy-n-lucas I did another one of your prompts. Thanks to Ariadna from the discord for giving my a book title and @nights-of-fire because you’re great. This was my 5am, no sleep writing child. Please enjoy.

SUMMARY: Diana runs a bookstore and a mysterious blonde man walks in one day.

WARNING: No beta, really have no idea what I wrote here but I did my best.

Diana was young when she fell in love with books. There was something about them. May it be the aged pages of a grand fairy tale or a crisp copy of the newest romance. Something about them spoke to the young woman and it got to the point where reading was all she wanted to do. Her love for books ended up playing a big part in her decision to drop her dreams of being a professional dancer and take up shop in her hometown’s small bookstore.

Sure, bookstores weren’t very popular nowadays, people had the internet, but she didn’t have the book store for money. She had the bookstore because it called to her, something about the quiet peace that books brought. It spoke to her and she couldn’t help but listen. Books had given her so much over the years and she would never have the heart to leave her bookstore.

Not to mention the people her bookstore brought to her.

There were people like Lily, who seemed to have the same open hearted love of books that Diana herself had. The same love that led to Lily becoming Diana’s one and once store clerk and her sweet best friend.

Kind souls like Felix, who came one day out of the blue and found himself returning every now and again. Of course, the way he always took glances at Lily spoke that there was a double meaning of being in her store, but Felix seemed to be as sweet guy. So whether or not something happened with them Diana was sure it’d turn out ok.

Even the occasional passerby, the one’s that found her store by chance, always left an impression.

…

It was one of the rare days that Lily was off. Apparently her friend had plans today with Felix, and if the looks that Lily seem to start giving Felix said anything well- Diana had high hopes.

It also meant today would probably be a quiet day. Her little store never really got much foot traffic unless some big release was coming and without Lily to chat with that meant Diana wasn’t likely to make much conversation. That was fine with her, people were nice but being about to take time for herself and read was even nicer.

Deciding to read a new book that just came in Diana couldn’t help but deflated slightly when she heard the door open. Oh well, one person would be quick to deal with, then she could go and read. Looking up to see who entered, Diana was slightly startled to see a tall blonde man and not one of her regulars. He looked around the store halfheartedly before finally looking at her. His eyes were very pretty she allowed herself to think Like blue jewels. For some reason the blonde man seem to freeze up at the sight of her, as if her very existence offended him. But then the look was gone, the man’s eyes went cold and he seemed to decide to completely ignore whatever just transpired. Which was a new reaction for her.

Well weird looks or not, the man walked in which meant he was a costumer. Putting on her best store owner smile, Diana started, “Hello. Welcome in, feel free to look around and let me know if you need any help.”

The man said nothing. He didn’t even nod. He just walked straight past her to the closest shelf of books. Which was rude, but fair. Diana wasn’t so simpleminded that she thought everyone could be happy all the time. Yes, being ignored so obviously was annoying and slightly hurtful but she’s dealt with far worse.

“If you’re looking for a copy of Lovely Princess I think I may have a copy or two in the back,” It wouldn’t be the first time someone wandered all the way to her store for the book. The story of the lovely princess, Jennette, was very popular nowadays and while Diana read it and didn’t see the appeal, it sold well and having copies on hand was always a good idea.

Finally acknowledging her, the man grumbled, “I don’t need it.”

He speaks! Diana smiled brighter at his response,” Ah, not a fan?”

“No.”

Diana felt goosebumps at his cold tone. How do you converse with a living statue? “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m not the biggest fan of Lovely Princess myself.”

“Really?” He finally looked at her again, his tone was now unbelieving. “You... seem like the type.”

“Well you know what they say. Can’t judge a book by it’s cover.” And Diana hated herself, a book joke and such a cliche. Goodness she was losing her touch.

The stranger seemed as unimpressed as Diana herself was, turning back to the closest book shelf. Well, at least she learned that jokes were a no go.

“Is there anything I can help you find then?”

He was ignoring her again. Great. Well, at least she could say she tried.

“I’ll leave you alone for now. I’ll be upfront if you need anything. Enjoy your search sir”

That got his attention back on her. Shoot, abort abort.

“You don’t… know who I am?” He trailed off as if unsure why this woman who he’s never met before didn’t know him.

Diana felt slightly unimpressed, “Is this an I’m a rich person how can you not know me moment? Because if it is, I’m sorry I really don’t keep up with the news.”

“Of course not. We’ve never met before, why would you know me.” His words sounded bitter, like her not knowing who he was was some great disservice. Maybe Diana would have been better off just letting him ignore her. He walked over to where Diana was sitting as his eyes shifted to the counter, zeroing in on something by her hand, “That book…”

Her eyes followed to where he was looking and she let herself breathe again. Diana brightened at the book title she saw, ”It’s one of my favorites.”

Red Rose, it was the less popular spin off sequel to Lovely Princess. Which was honestly surprising considering how popular the first book was. It was probably due to the protagonist being Princess Athanasia de Alger Obelia. The spin off began the day Athanasia was put to death. The story followed her waking up after death in the body of her 3 year old self due to some act of magic or fate. It first it seemed like the plot of the book would only be her trying to avoid death but the book took an early twist when Athanasia learns that the time travel had a second effect. It awoke the grand magician of the tower, Lucas, who immediately took interest in the princess due to the large magic energy surrounding her as an effect of time travel. From there the story followed both Athanasia and Lucas as they tried to complete their goals, Athanasia trying to avoid Claude and death and Lucas trying to regain his magic. Like in the original, Lovely Princess, Jennette comes to live in the palace but Athanasia avoids her this time around, deciding to spend more time with Lucas instead. The book’s climax ended up being the King still finding some way to try and blame Athanasia for some absurd crime, an act to try and kill her off. Lucas seeing the princess he’s grown so found of threatened, cursed the cruel King and took Princess Athanasia for his own. The last chapter was from Jennette’s point of view on what life was like after Athanasia and Lucas disappeared. The princess lamented on not being able to create a close bond with her half sister, the only keepsake of Athanasia she had being a single red rose.

The book was bittersweet.

“I thought you weren’t of fan”

“Of Lovely Princess? No, I’m not. I did enjoy Red Rose much more than it’s source material.”

“Not a fan of Jennette’s?”

“Not at all, Lovely Princess was too bleh for me,” Diana shrugged, “Call me an Athanasia Apologist but I don’t like how the story handled the poor girl. Life was really against her.”

Honestly, Diana couldn’t understand the hate Athanasia was given. Sure, she saw the appeal in a lovely girl like Jennette but at the end of the day she had all of life’s wonders handed to her while Athanasia did everything she could to gain the same acceptance but failed every time. To Diana, Athanasia was much easier to find lovable, and she couldn’t help but fall for the young girl and her rather morbid storyline.

“I know a lot of people hate her, and I’m not judging her if you do-,” He was quick to cut her off this time.

“No, I could never hate Athanasia,” His voice was firm, like his answer was a fact of life and not his opinion of a random book character.

“The king was an idiot for letting such a treasure go. For hurting her.” His voice was dark, “Athanasia is to good for such a man like him.”

Diana felt stunned. She was glad she found someone who didn’t hate Athanasia but the way he talked about her. Like she was a real person who’s actions and experiences existed. His hate sounded personal, as if the King was insulting him personally with his awful treatment of the princess. That wasn’t normal, and yet… Diana had felt the same way. It’s why Red Rose spoke to her so much, all of Lovely Princess her focus had been on Athanasia to the point where she’d skip chapters to get straight to the princess’ appearances. She didn’t know why the character effected her so much but it did. When the king put Athanasia to death, Diana felt a burning rage within her. When Athanasia cried, Diana felt the urge to cry right along side her. She felt emotions for Athanasia that she had never felt for any other book character before. And this man in front of her seemed to feel the same way she did. Maybe that’s why fate led him to her bookstore.

“Here.” She offered the book to him, “Take it. “

He blinked at her, suddenly baffled. “You… said it was your favorite.”

“It is,” Diana agreed easily, she’d let his rude behavior slide for today, “and I have at least 5 copies of it. I know you probably have your own but think of it as a gift. From one Athanasia lover to another, we’re a race that’s very hard to come by.”

Hesitating slightly, she added, “I hope it helps you find what you’re looking for.”

The man seemed conflicted by this, his eyes flickering once more before he finally grabbed the book. He cradled it in his hand like it was something precious. Looking at the slightly worn, but well taken care of book like it held the secrets to life. He hesitated, seemly wanting to say something before he decidedly turned away. Hand on the door knob, the wanderer turned to her once more. His expression didn’t shift at all from the blank slate he schooled it into but he seemed to hesitate. Diana waited, after all that just happened she could be patience. After a period of silence he finally spoke.

“Thank you.”

And with that he walked out.

…

Sometimes her store brought in the most interesting people, and you can call her crazy but she’d bet that wandering blonde man would find himself back at her little slice of heaven in no time. He still had to tell her his name after all.

#wmmap #sbapod #claude de alger obelia #diana wmmap #Athanasia #no beta #we die like men #i wrote this with no sleep guys #dont expect much lmaoo #no one on the discord reacted to it #sad boi hours #who made me a princess #suddenly became a princess one day #sleep would have helped #oh well

72 notes · View notes

girlpi · 3 years

Photo

Below the cut is a deep-dive into Veronica’s mental state and tendencies throughout the entirety of canon. This meta helps explain particular behavioral and personality traits that you may see laced in interactions. There will be a slew of triggering topics mentioned so please proceed with caution - also note that while reasoning behind some of Veronica’s tendencies I’m not attempting to justify toxic behaviors nor do I condone them in real life, obvi.

Triggering subjects mentioned: divorce, rape, sexual assault, abandonment, ptsd, depression, alcohol & death/murder

Viewer discretion is advised *dun dun*

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

Veronica’s PTSD symptoms showed themselves slowly and practically isolated from one another, which made the connection very hard to find at first. When she was young, particularly the time directly following Lilly’s death and her own rape, Veronica began to show excessive blame on herself and others, anger, guilt, shame, and a hypervigilance that could mimic paranoia. With the habit of isolating and internalizing near all emotions, it would have been hard for even someone like Keith to pick up on the small changes - specifically the feelings of shame and disgust in herself - which lead to many of these emotions not only bottling up but often overflowing with an outburst that caused more damage than it ever was therapeutic.

The more prominent PTSD indicators came as Veronica approached adulthood, particularly after leaving Neptune. It came to be that once she found herself in a far less busy life, with a routine of school and a job that didn’t involve any type of investigating, there was more time for her mind to dwell. Mostly, her PTSD presents itself in the form of night terrors and flashbacks that are most frequent when she is over-tired or heavily stressed. A quick trigger for the most intrusive flashback, her encounter with Aaron Echolls, is the strong scent of gasoline. When alone, these episodes can last for quite a while where she is forced to ride them out until she either falls asleep or snaps herself out of them. Logan acts as a security blanket - while his presence doesn’t completely omit traumatic episodes, they’re less frequent and less intense, something he can pull her through after years of dealing with them. In his absence, when Veronica knows she’s in a bad headspace and expects a rise in episodes, she’ll sleep on Keith’s couch just to have someone around.

Much of Veronica’s hostility and all of her self-destructive behaviors as an adult stems from traumatic past events that have never professionally been dealt with or faced. There’s fear that if she were to sit down and face them, to talk through all that has happened to her, that she’d look small to the world, weak and and tainted just as she often feels. This fear leads to emotional avoidance, something extremely frustrating for her and those that love her, but the internalization and the denial of help, in her mind, mean she’s stronger than she seems and able to handle the world on her own.

Chronic Depression

While many would pinpoint Lilly’s death as the onset of Veronica’s depression, she’d tell you otherwise. Post-Lilly’s murder, Veronica was engulfed in finding her killer, enraged and sad, but seeking revenge - she didn’t have the time to fall into despair and depression. It was her parent’s divorce and her mother’s sudden abandonment that kick started the mild, chronic depression she carries and suppresses into adulthood. Lianne’s leaving, and failed promise to return for her, was a very sudden indication that what Veronica knew to be true: her family loving and supporting her no matter what, was a sudden lie. Soon came the realization that her own mother chose alcohol and the comfort of a Mars free lifestyle over her own daughter. This is what truly eats away at Veronica’s self-image, coupled with the jarring loss of her best friend and sudden isolation from everyone she found important in her life. In these early stages, her depression showed itself by means of insomnia, unenthusiasm, and isolation.

While these signs lessened as she regained her footing, particularly after piecing together Lilly’s murder, and another uptick after solving her own rape case, underlying hints always stayed present, albeit quiet for periods of time. While she was able to go longer stretches without depressive episodes, the pitfalls in adulthood could be described as double depressive - in cases when Logan is gone for an extended deployment, and especially when she begins to pick up on her dad’s assumed deterioration, Veronica easily falls back into lows. During these times she suffers from intense restlessness, needing to be busy but finding no enjoyment in things, becomes increasingly irritable and retreats from contact with friends and family. The biggest indicator, however, that she is approaching a depressive drop is her appetite, which will become near non-existent.

Depression is something Veronica knows well enough she has tangoed with - she aced school as a psychology major and understands what she was taught, but the stubbornness and fierce self-sufficiency that she insists she has ultimately prevents her from seeking help she knows would only benefit her.

Touch Aversion

Veronica’s aversion to touch is fairly generalized until she’s comfortable with a person, and that person needs to wait for her to allow them in first. This stems anywhere from giving/receiving a hug, a handshake, comforting squeeze of a shoulder. Platonic touch is something she is far more likely to open up to, but physical closeness, cuddling, hugs, kisses on the cheek, or any romantic/sexual/sensual gesture is far less allowed. In particular, she prefers physical distance from men, especially in a setting that she’s not familiar or when she’s alone. She will even go as far as to create a barrier between her and another person, whether it be her desk, a window, anything that maintains distance, which can often be seen as a sign of abrasiveness and hostility.

This aversion also branches out to those she loves and is comfortable with. Particularly during strong episodes of self-loathing and disgust, or after a flashback or nightmare, touch is incredibly startling unless it’s initiated by her. This isn’t to say she doesn’t show affection - Veronica easily loves up on Logan, Wallace, Nicole, Keith, and Mac, and she’ll even offer a comforting squeeze of someone’s hand, but this is because she’s in control. Learning of Shelly Pomeroy’s party, where both Duncan Kane and Cassidy Casablancas raped her, and Dick Casablancas sexually assaulted her, she felt her autonomy and self-worth violated through touch she never approved of. That night caused a heavy feeling of disgust and guilt, self-blame something she carries well into adulthood, and physical contact is something that she can control that makes sure she’s never violated like that again.

Stonewalling

Stonewalling, for Veronica, is an out to confrontation she’s not ready for. It’s a tactic used particularly when she’s confronted with her own issues by someone else. While she won’t flat out ignore someone, she will become short in her response and suddenly occupy herself with a mundane task to seem too busy to talk. Veronica has a high fight or flight sense, often turning to fight rather than flight, but in moments when she’s feeling high-level stress, pressure, or attacked by another, stonewalling becomes her flight method, a removal from the conversation at hand. This can lead to a ton of frustration for whoever is on the other end. She grows dismissive and combative, at times letting the situation escalate to her physically removing herself.

Unfortunately, it’s Logan who is typically on the receiving end of this behavior, exemplified nearly any time he approaches her about therapy, and in instances when he proposed marriage knowing it was off the table for her. Ideally, physically stopping her from busying herself, and choosing words that aren’t combative or belittling is how someone can reel her back in, but few get the chance as Veronica’s temper is hot and quick.

#writing about veronicas issues make me feel better about my own lmfao #* veronica mars. » development

3 notes · View notes