#the version of him that is capable of gentleness and is fun and silly and sweet to her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dulcetpill · 3 years ago

Note

hiya! for the beyond evil ask thing 🎵

Thank youuu for interacting, you lovely person with a very good name<3

🎵 What five songs do you associate with Beyond Evil?

I realized I don’t have that many song associations in general, especially if not counting those that are caused by fandom video edits. Quite often, listening to a song and hearing an exceptionally good line, I get a moment of association (“oooh, this is so jwds-core!!”), but the song as a whole doesn’t make me think about Beyond Evil (or any other media for that matter). But I’ll try to scrounge up some good ones and not cheat with easy fandom-edit picks :P

Дарья Виардо — Возвращайся домой Daria Viardo — Come Back Home

A gentle, sorrowful song in Russian about dealing with loss, pointlessly hoping that your loved one will come back home just like usual, as if returning from a very long walk.

“But I wait on the porch I’m covered in mold But I wait on the porch In the hope of saying “hello” once more.”

It’s so Dongsik-about-Yuyeon… I even contemplated making an edit with this song, but I don’t have the will to cut all of the appropriate footage for it, and not many people would be able to appreciate it fully anyway. But the song is still wonderful. A real tearjerker.

“And even if I know There won’t be a miraculous day The sky won’t give you back And the door lock won’t click… You won’t come back home Won’t come back home You’ll never come back home. But I still feel like…”

Nothing But Thieves — Your Blood

Listen. LISTEN. Your Blood is basically Han Juwon (Daddy Issues Edition): The Song.

“You know it's your blood that I bleed Tell me that there's some way that I'll get through the night. I carry your moral disease I don't wanna be something I'm not to stay alive.”

I literally spent a whole night writing a cheesy twitter thread about Juwon while listening to nothing but this song, even though it’s much more somber than the feeling I was trying to invoke. Because it’s just. So. Juwon. Ugh. Listening to this makes me really want to play some golf. At night. In the rain. You know the feeling.

“Oh no, there's no escape No matter how I try Now I'm stuck on one day For the rest of my life.”

Stephen Sondheim Company OST — Being Alive (by Raúl Esparza)

And this version. THE jwds song, I'm not joking. From Juwon’s POV, because he’s such a miserable flop (I love him so much).

“Someone to hold you too close Someone to hurt you too deep Someone to sit in your chair To ruin your sleep Someone to need you too much Someone to know you too well Someone to pull you up short To put you through hell.”

Even trying to quote it feels silly, because every single line is just IT. Such a powerful, beautiful song, really.

“Make me confused Mock me with praise Let me be used Vary my days.”

I want(ed) to make an edit with this one, too, but I couldn’t even decide on which version to choose… Maybe there's someone more capable than me who'll actually do it one day.

“Somebody crowd me with love Somebody force me to care Somebody let me come through I'll always be there As frightened as you To help us survive Being alive.”

Tamino — Indigo Night

It’s a perfect fit for Juwon, I’m a little insane about it. (Please do not notice that this is my third Juwon association, please do not perceive me.)

“He says, “I, I have seen the world's most beautiful places Still I feel, as If I'm a walking machine Watching it all through a screen There is nothing in between to me This might as well not be real.”

It’s a song about Juwon being his miserable self (though not as self-aware), and Manyang gang teaching him how to finally not be a flop who thinks having no friends is a flex, basically.

“And he cries, “Why can't I sing along with some feeling, or some meaning? It feels like I've always been blind I don't know why you girls are so kind For there are so many in line Whose lives aren't as lost as mine.”

Think of Juwon obsessing over that one stalker photo of Manyang gang gathered at Jaeyi’s, eating and having fun, so full of life and joy. And Juwon being anything but. Until he actually meets Dongsik and the rest and learns how to eat soup with the love of his life staring at him across the table so lovingly. Yeah.

“’Cause he's never been More alive.”

Florence + The Machine — No Choir

Beyond Evil finale from Dongsik’s POV. And post-canon, too. Dongsik and Juwon, Dongsik and his Manyang gang. Just eating well, sleeping well, having people you love around is enough to be happy—and to just be.

“And it's hard to write about being happy 'Cause, the older I get I find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject. And there will be no grand choirs to sing No chorus could come in About two people sitting doing nothing.”

The song fits with the feeling of the show’s ending so well. It’s so… mellow, yet melancholic, yet light and soothing.

“But I must confess I did it all for myself I gathered you here to hide from some vast unnameable fear But the loneliness never left me I always took it with me But I can put it down in the pleasure of your company.”

To some people the ending was too soft or too open-ended, rather unsatisfying, not dramatic enough. But that’s what made it so perfect in my eyes. The mystery is solved, the chase is over, all that is left is the unspoken words, the smiles, the silent promises, all of the implied in-betweens… The show’s over, practically dead, yet, to me, the characters couldn’t be more alive, continuing on with their quiet lives filled with quiet love. I hope they’re pooping well, too.

“And there will be no grand choirs to sing No chorus will come in No ballad will be written This will be entirely forgotten.”

#beyond evil #(s)pill it out

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anika-ann · 5 years ago

Text

Ground Rules (for Love and War) - Pt.1

Of War and Peace

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3860

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Summary: Steve Rogers always has been a bit of a mystery – always polite, with a little bit of foot-in-mouth syndrome, unbelievingly kind and definitely good-looking – but a mystery anyway. He treated you differently from his friends. Why?

You would never expect the ongoing prank war between Bucky and Sam to shed light on the matter.Of course, Tony Stark is also to blame. Whenever he isn’t? You are his assistant – you would know.

Warnings: silly pranks, blackout, attempt at humour, swearing… fluff and way too shy Steve

A/N: Loosely based on a request from AO3 from Call_Me_Mrs_Rogers: awkward flirtatious Steve and Tony’s-Assistant!Reader, Sam-Bucky prank war and a power-cut. Whole request in the notes under the first chapter.

Sam Wilson was a brave man, you thought.

An undoubtedly handsome, considerably capable, loyal to a fault, but first of all, an incredibly brave man.

That was the only logical explanation of him declaring a prank war to James Buchannan Barnes; and it started by the Falcon himself reminding everyone who followed his Twitter that Bucky’s middle name was indeed Buchannan and he loved to be called that.

The truth was that calling Bucky that name was bordering with dangerous. Pulling out a stunt like Sam had, now that was like singing up his own death sentence.

“Wilsoooon!” Bucky howled through the corridors and you jumped in your seat before smirking into your second cup of coffee that day.

You wondered what Sam had done this time. Ever since the first Twitter event, both Sam and Bucky were stepping up their game.

Social media pranks. Sugar-salt switching. Soaped door handles. Hair dye in shampoo. Itching powder. Glue on a mug. You name it.

They were like infants. Worse even. As if the Tower needed more men-children in it. As if Tony wasn’t enough.

Now, Tony Stark was a brilliant man; distracted, sarcastic, a maniacal scientist and a hero, whom you were honoured to call your boss. Except Pepper Potts was the one in charge, pulling the strings and hiring you after she had become the CEO of Stark Industries, because she could no longer be his assistant.

Because Tony Stark was a genius of a man-child who needed constant supervision. He needed a girl Friday and F.R.I.D.A.Y. sometimes wasn’t enough. Enter you. A glorious secretary with an engineering degree and enough patience to deal with him. Hand-picked by Virginia Potts herself, sometimes being chosen to go to a meeting with her to represent Tony’s intentions rather than him, since you were less likely to piss people off, being able to keep cockiness in check.

But damn, weren’t you proud.

Your train of thought was cut short as the former Winter Soldier strode into the communal kitchen with a stormy look on his face and sneezed on its way; four times. Loudly.

Your face twisted in sympathy.

“Haven’t seen him,” you answered before Bucky could collect himself enough to ask.

Another wall-shaking sneeze was his response.

Now that one was just cruel; as far as you knew, supersoldiers couldn’t get sick. So it was just the sneezing itself, whatever it was caused by. Still, you guessed it must have been horrible to go through that after so many years of blissful germ-freedom. Honestly, if you sneezed like after seven decades, you’d lose your shit. Why did it feel like your lungs were about to leave your body through your nose at the mere thought of it? Scary shit, alright.

Bucky growled and stalked away. Not before he nodded in thanks.

He left the room with another sneeze.

“Bless you,” you muttered under your breath and eyed your tablet.

Tony was asleep as he had stayed awake until two a.m. working on the newest upgrade for the security of the Tower, so technically, you had time to enjoy your coffee in relative peace.

Naturally, peace was a short supply in the Tower, the home to the Avengers.

When Pepper had first offered you to simply move in since you spent the most of your time there, you had been reluctant. It had only been a week in and while you met some of the team members, finding out they were far less intimidating than they presented themselves to the press, it sounded… overwhelming to stay there 24/7. However, you had been quickly persuaded after you nearly passed out, because your sleep schedule was a mess, consisting of either passing out on the couch in the Tower or making it home only to fall asleep before your head hit the pillow, and being woken up by an urgent call from the Ironman himself two hours later.

Living in the Tower had its downsides and its upsides.

Downside was that it rarely got quiet and it was the perfect target for any supervillain as it had all of the Earth’s mightiest heroes in one place. Constant supervision from an artificial intelligence was as reassuring as concerning.

As for the upsides… you hadn’t expected to actually… befriend the Avengers. You certainly wouldn’t guess that once Natasha Romanoff warmed up to you, she was a great friend, a female element alongside Pepper that the Tower and the team sorely needed. The times you bonded over the aforementioned men-children were one of the best in your life.

Clint was a lot of fun, though you had soon adopted the habit of making a pot of coffee just for him, since you were usually the one to get up from bed before him and talking to him pre-coffee was the risk equivalent to touching Sam’s snacks.

Bruce… kept for himself a lot. But when he came out of his shell, either liberated by alcohol or when discussing science with Tony, he would radiate an aura anyone would be happy to bask in.

Sam was the ray of sunshine, gentle with a lot of fun stacked behind the chocolate eyes of his, but once he got into the same room and Bucky… oh boy.

The silently charming grumpy supersoldier added to the team in a way you wouldn’t see coming – perfectly. Except that he and Sam were always in each other’s hair. Always bickering; one that sometimes resulted in a war. Occasionally funny; other times utterly annoying. Rright now, you felt like it was something in between.

“Good morning,” sounded pleasantly from the door, where the last member of the peculiar household stood, seemingly hesitant.

Oh. Steve Rogers. That was right. Your biggest guilty pleasure. That man was a pure eye-candy, a body perfected by the serum only to protect the great man hiding in it. You didn’t have many opportunities to truly know him; but whenever you saw him, he had an air around him, greatness and kindness, yet somehow fogged by modesty.

At times, he appeared sheepish almost, but always polite. To you anyway. His friends were a different story; it saddened you occasionally, that he didn’t consider you a friend, not really giving you a chance, treating you differently. You suspected it was because you weren’t a fighter; while assisting Tony nearly 24/7, it was obvious that the billionaire tried his best to keep you away from the danger zone as much as possible.

The arms-long distance Steve Rogers kept you at was causing you a heart-ache at times, yet you had a feeling he didn’t have any particular dislike for you; only that he treated you differently. Always polite. Always a pleasant interaction.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, his usual running outfit and tousled hair giving away he was coming back from his everyday morning routine of what was probably like thirty miles or something.

“Good morning, Steve. Had a nice run?”

Looking himself up, slightly guiltily, he scratched the back of his neck. It occurred to you that he was embarrassed at not being the most cleaned-up version of himself in front of you – a woman –, which you found adorable. His forties-man was showing.

“Yeah. Yes. Thank you. Did you… sleep well?” he queried, shifting by the door.

“Yes, actually… are you going to stand there all day?” you teased him lightly and the corners of his lips twitched as his gaze fell to the floor, his shoulder finally bouncing off the door-frame.

“I just didn’t want to disturb your moment of peace…”

Your chest felt warmer at such admission. What a sweet thought.

“That is very kind of you,” you praised him as he gestured to the coffee pot, checking with you if it was for everyone’s use. You nodded and chuckled at the tinniest flaw in his thoughtfulness. “Except you were beaten about a minute and half by a much grumpier and louder supersoldier.”

Steve groaned and leaned onto the counter. “Let me guess: Sam proceeded with another prank.”

You made a finger gun at him, grinning. “Exactly. I don’t know how he did it, but I don’t think I ever heard a person sneeze that loud. And that often. Poor Bucky.”

“Bucky brought this upon himself. He deserves it,” Steve grumbled, sipping at the coffee, his eyelids sliding shut blissfully. You were pretty sure that something resembling a moan resonated in his chest, which… didn’t do a thing to you. Didn’t bring thoughts that were not about caffeinated beverages, but something slightly dirtier. Nope. Nothing. Like… at all.

You stood up from you stool and gathered your stuff, ignoring the way your heart suddenly sped up.

“Well, I just hope we can all keep sane before this particular battle of their war is over,” you hummed, every word honest and hopeful. “These two might bring the Tower down. As if Tony wasn’t enough…”

“Very true. I’ll try and keep an eye on them… try,” he emphasized when your nose scrunched with a bit of doubt and you made a so-so motion with your free hand.

“Bold move. I hope you don’t get caught in the middle. Though I’m sure you could pull the blue-hair look unlike Bucky…”

Why did I just say that?

Smiling softly into his cup despite his eyes going wide in horror, he took a deep breath and looked you straight in the eye. The brightness of his irises had your breath caught in your chest.

“So am I. You… uhm, you look beautiful today, by the way,” he complimented you sweetly, his gaze swiftly glancing over your outfit and casual hairstyle. And for a good reason; having to assist Pepper on a meeting today, you had been chosen to wear a pink ladies suit and a white shirt. You had expected to look like a ridiculous copy of cotton candy – you had not anticipated to… actually look presentable. Feminine even. You.

Your cheeks matched the colours of your jacket at the praise; Steve’s shoulders straightened.

“I meant… not that you usually don’t. I was… uhm, I like the… the look on you. The one you have today,” he stumbled over his words and suddenly your whole body felt warm, pleasantly and yet embarrassingly.

“Thank… thank you. Have a nice day, Steve,” you nearly squeaked, threw a quick smile over your shoulder and rushed from the kitchen.

Oh yeah.

Steve… he would often utter a compliment, like a proper gentleman he was, treating women right. Except you never heard him say such thing to Natasha, who was far easier on the eyes. Or to Pepper. He would open the door for you, reached the top shelves when you needed it, always offering a helping hand, shy and gentle smiles, so… diverse to how he was when with the Avengers.

No, Steve Rogers didn’t treat you like his friend.

And god knew that the day you figured out if that was a good thing or a bad thing would be the day of solving the biggest enigma of the new millennium.

Unknown to you, Steve melted into the counter, putting down his cup of coffee and groaned at his utter inability to flirt.

“I swear, man, before you manage to give her a normal compliment without putting your foot in your mouth, someone else will snatch her,” Sam commented, having just sneaked into the kitchen to grab a three protein bars, cautiously scanning his surroundings.

Steve shot him a glare. “Thank you, Sam, you’re being very helpful. Has Bucky found you yet?”

“Shh! Don’t say his name! Do that two more times and he will app-“

“Wilson! You- ACHOO- fhakhin’ bird- ACHOOO-brain!” Bucky’s voice thundered through the whole floor and Steve smirked with satisfaction.

Sam’s body turned to stone, his eyes horrified and yet endlessly amused.

“Sorry, Cap, gotta go! But for God’s sake, just ask her out before we all go insane here…”

“Says the guy who cursed a supersoldier with sniffles!” Steve called after the disappearing figure exasperatedly, only to hear Sam’s laughter in the distance.

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“Silly circuit! What’s wrong with you? Do you have no decency? Just work…” you mumbled under your breath, eyes glued to the interface from a way too short distance, but you didn’t care for your health at this point. You just wanted to fix this.

“Is it talking back?” a hesitant and yet teasing voice asked, making you nearly jump out of your skin. Your head snapped up in surprise.

“Steve. Hey,” you welcomed him briefly, shocked at the vision of the supersoldier in the workshop. “What brings you to our dungeon?”

“Coffee break,” he wiggled two coffee cups in his hands pointedly and beckoned towards the clock that… read ten in the evening. Oh. You didn’t realize you had been down here for so long. “Something tells me you didn’t have one in a while. Am I… overstepping?”

Your cheeks flushed similarly to his as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reluctant to cross the distance between you.

Coffee honestly sounded heavenly now. And with delivery and perhaps some company? Not bad, not bad at all…

“Oh. No! No, that’s just… I’m surprised,” you admitted. “I mean, you’re always nice to me, of course, but… eh, sorry, my people skills are lacking at this time of day. Remind me how to tell-- gosh, I can’t even word, I mean speak-- you really do have a point about that coffee break.”

You chuckled, a palm over your forehead, fighting the urge to run it down your face in embarrassment at you babbling.

Steve, ever the gentleman, tried to hush his laughter at least partly, the sound coming out subtle and cute. He held out one of the cups for you and you instantly sipped at it reverently with your eyelids fluttering close, barely registering his soft: “Well, here you go.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“You’re welcome. What are you working on?”

Surprised once more by his query, you took another vehement sip of coffee before placing the cup in safe distance and answering.

“Eh, just some glitch in Natasha’s Bites. I think she fried it, using the electromotive units too much during the last mission and now the interface is misbehaving and we would rather avoid her accidently electrocuting people, god forbid, herself.”

“…that we would,” Steve agreed, blinking at you, seemingly a bit dumbstruck, but a twinkle of mischief reflected in his irises. “Looks like the coffee is kicking in pretty quick. You have no problem with wording now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle self-depreciatingly. He wasn’t wrong.

What threw you off balance was that he was… having a conversation with you, a playful one, so atypical of him – at least as far as it was concerning you – and… it felt truly nice. It did things to your stomach, a pleasant fluttery sensation and you quickly downed the rest of your cup, wondering if it was the shot of caffeine. You were about 97% sure that it wasn’t the cause.

“Har, har, Captain Rogers. I’ll have you know that it’s only my human skills that gets progressively pathetic with my caffeine levels running low, not my ability to say big words. Anyway, what’s got into you tonight? There’s something different about you… not that I’m complaining!”

Once more, his reaction took you aback. He flashed you a quick smile before lowering his gaze, holding up both of his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Guilty as charged. Sam might have found me making coffee for two and decided to give me a pep talk. He told me, and I quote, to suck it up and just spit it out. … And then made me take a sip from Thor’s flask.”

Your heart started beating its way out of your chest, a mixture of panic and excitement at his admission.

“Sounds like he’s a good friend then. Is there something on your mind? That you need to… spit out?”

“Yeah,” he confessed, peeking at your from under his rich eyelashes, shy but determined gaze settling on you as he leant onto the counter behind him. “I feel like… things I want to say tend to come out wrong. I… I’d like to know you better. If that would be alright with you.”

You felt endlessly grateful that moment, that the words ‘my jaw went slack’ were only a figure of speech, because otherwise you would have looked very comical and very much stupid. Still, your lips parted, the flutter in your stomach growing in intensity.

“…oh,” you breathed out intelligently, only to realize he had actually asked a question. Kinda. And he was waiting for you to answer. “Uhm… yes. Yes, I’d love to do the same. I… I admit I thought that maybe you just weren’t interested in further interaction, because I’m not on the team-“

“No! That’s not it at all, I swear,” he rushed to reassure you, sending a tiny pleased smile at your approval. “It’s just… like I said. I’m always tripping over myself around you, putting my foot in my mouth and- and things I want to say sound less awkward in my head.”

Tripping over himself around me? That sounded… nope, that couldn’t be it. Right? Except your heart was now hammering against your ribcage in excitement at the possibility, turning more real every second he was looking at you and dammit, do not give into the silly hope that Steve Rogers might actually like like you.

“Steve, you’re literally the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I like to think about you as sweet, not awkward.” Now wow, really, sweet? That was way too much, dummy. Except he smiled shyly, his eyes lightening up at the compliment and your fingertips tingled at the sweet display of delight. He relaxed further, settling more comfortably against the counter. “Now, what do you want to know?”

“Anything,” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still up in invitation, an encouragement to share with him anything you were willing to.

“Well, you clearly already know how I take my coffee…”

Hint of darker pink coloured his cheeks, much to your glee.

“How did you end up working for Tony?”

“First of all, we all know I’m working for Pepper…”

He laughed at that, but listened patiently after, watching you work as you told him about your mum always being away on business trips and your father taking you to his workshop to keep your child’s mind occupied, teaching you stuff that was way too complicated for a little girl, but fascinating at the same time, showing you direction when you turned the age of making the big career decisions.

“Applying for this insane position wasn’t a spur of the moment. Pepper sent out e-mails to candidates she picked – I didn’t even know about the position opening, she simply used some of Tony’s searching tools and wrote people of whom she thought might handle the job. It was a little scary, to be honest. First, I thought there was no way for me to sign up for that; it would mean basically no personal life and I never wanted to be like my mum, never home…. But then it occurred to me how proud she would be of me, much like dad is and… I thought that it doesn’t have to be forever, you know. I can work here now and switch to something else when I decide to be a mum. Of course, I can see now, unlike when I was a kid and teenager, that she tried, but… I realized lots of that stuff only after she died and it’s just… I’m sorry she wasn’t there and that I didn’t try harder to appreciate her.”

You couldn’t fathom when you started pouring your heart to him or when your eyes started burning, but suddenly his hand was there, gently squeezing yours, his wide shoulders as if shielding you from the rest of the world simply by standing by your side and your eyes closed of their own account, your body strangely comfortable in Steve’s huge presence.

“I’m sure she knew,” he whispered warmly.

You smiled at him through the tears you had failed to keep at bay. “Sorry. Now whose mouth is loose. I bet you didn’t expect me oversharing when you said you wanted to know me better.”

“No, I didn’t,” he confirmed, observing your face with a mixture of laughter at your joke and compassion at your outburst. “I appreciate that you’re willing to share something so big with me. Thank you.”

“It’s that eyes of yours. They made me spill my guts.”

He didn’t point out that your focus was on the device on the table and not his eyes, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket instead. He gave it to you, never letting go of your other hand.

“Oh wow,” you only commented, no more words needed. Who the hell still carried-

Steve groaned silently. “Please don’t make any old man jokes.”

“I was about to compliment your chivalry.”

“Sure you were,” he grumbled, but his mouth was curled up in a grin, so you assumed he wasn’t too offended by your reaction.

Staring at the dazzling display of perfect teeth, you missed another person coming in; until their shocked voice snapped you from your trance.

“Whoa, what’s happening?” Bucky blurted out, bewildered at the scene in front of him.

You jumped away from Steve as if you got burned, your hand slipping from his. To be fair, so did he.

When had you got to standing in such intimate proximity anyway? Christ, something must have got into the air vents. You’d blame the Barnes-Wilson war for that… not that you complained. Having Steve standing so close, offering comfort without a single word of complaint after listening to you pouring your heart to him… you weren’t entirely joking when saying you were about to commend his chivalry.

Steve cleared his throat, his voice hoarse as if he had been the one crying. “Bucky? What can I do for you?”

Bucky frowned first at his best friend and then at you, his gaze flickering between the two of you before settling on you, a worried wrinkle appearing on his forehead.

“You alright, dollface? Do I need to punch Captain Foot-in-the-Mouth in his face?” he beckoned his chin towards Steve and you instantly shook your head, still too caught off guard to find your voice.

“Buck, please…”

“It’s a relevant question, Steve. And I’d do it if she asked.”

A surprised chuckle escaped your lips and you offered Bucky a grateful smile, only to grin up at Steve before wiping the rest of your tears.

“You seem to have very supportive friends, Steve,” you remarked.

“You have no idea. What did you need?”

“Nothing from you, punk,” Bucky smirked and shifted his attention fully to you. “FRIDAY told me you needed me in here? Something about an upgrade for my arm? Which I don’t need-”

“… which is why I’m not working on such thing,” you said, baffled. Should you be working on Bucky’s arm?

The former Winter Soldier had an utter confusion written all over his face.

“Huh? Then why-?”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

The workshop was suddenly swallowed by darkness, stunning him into silence.

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Part 2 ༻༺༻༺༻༺༻❁༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @cxptain @smilexcaptainx

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Original request: Basically, the reader is Tony's assistant and she's in and around the tower 24/7. Steve really likes her and in the rare times that she's able to get away from her work, she really likes him. They're always flirting with each other in the slightly awkward old-man way Steve has but they never actually get together. Bucky and Sam decide to get creative and start a prank war. The only problem is that they cause a power-cut and because of Tony's high-tech stuff, Y/N, Steve and Bucky are trapped in a room together with a bit of food, a board game (monopoly?) and some candles. Maybe Y/N just finished training and was in her small, tight outfits and Steve couldn't keep his eyes off her. Could the whole thing be full of sexual innuendos but NO SMUT PLEASE! Anyway, Bucky does something (maybe he sticks his foot out and Y/N trips over it into Steve's arms? Idk, I'm not good at this...) and they end up kissing or whatever?

Sorry for not completely following the script requested, I focused more on what my keyboard dictated O:-) I did say I was terrible with given scenarios. Hopefully you’ll enjoy at least a bit anyway. I can’t see myself filling any other request in my life, but I did have fun with this ;)

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Thank you for reading!

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #mcu #avengers #prank war #ground rules for love and war #anika ann

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shakespeareanwannabe · 5 years ago

Text

New Beginnings

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x F!OC/Santiago Garcia x Rebecca Cooke

Summary: A year after leaving Colombia, Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia returns home, ready for something...more.

Warnings: References to death and PTSD, swearing

A/N: Hi everyone! I was blown away by the response to ‘Protective Instincts’, so I wrote a sequel that’s based off of part of one of clarke’s headcanons. This was so fun to write, and I’m really wanting to write more about Bex and Pope, and Pope and Frankie, and the baby, so I’m hoping you all enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first one! If you want to be added to the tags, please let me know. I just used the tags list from ‘Protective Instincts’ for this one.

**********

In…Out…In…Out…

It was stupid.

This was stupid.

Why was he nervous?

He was being creepy. He needed to stop that. It was creepy enough when he stalked Tom down to the last condo he was showing and waited outside by his truck, scrambling to come up with a witty, cocksure line to make his old commanding officer laugh.

This…this was different. There were no ulterior motives this time around, no lies, no cash-grabs. Just an honest man who knew how badly he had fucked up, preparing to go hat in hand to the only person he thought would still give him another chance.

Would he still give him another chance?

In…Out…In…Out…

Of course he would, this was Frankie they were talking about. The man who, after he got their commanding officer killed, still cupped the back of his head and pulled him into a hug that was both amical and familial. The man who had always, always, had his back. Ride or die since day one. He wouldn’t hold Colombia against him…

Would he?

In…Out…In…Out…

They had parted ways fairly amicably, their farewell consisting of that hug that had almost brought him to his tired knees and back slaps and “take care of yourselves”.

Then again, Frankie had never wanted to go on the mission in the first place. He’d gone because Pope had used every tool in his repertoire to get his best friend to join him. And, when it had gone sideways, Pope had been able to see the exact second when that switch in Frankie’s brain switched from “civilian doing recon” to “soldier on the battlefield”. After so long away, after years of therapy and good old-fashioned love, Frankie had become a newer, better version of himself, and Pope had torn it all away with the promise of money that would benefit Frankie’s family.

But they had parted ways on good terms, right? That meant everything would be okay.

In…Out…In—

There he was.

Pope sat forward in the front seat of his new truck, eyes eagerly following his best friend’s movements.

Frankie was pacing the length of the porch, a baby perched in his arms. Even from where he was parked, Pope could hear the crying.

It probably wasn’t the best time. If Frankie’s kid was crying, then Frankie’s senses were probably all strung out. Plus, it was 6:30, so it was probably close to dinnertime. Frankie needed a schedule to help keep the wolves at bay, and he always ate around 6:30.

He should probably go. Dinner and a crying baby would have his friend all over the place. Not exactly good timing for the apology and ask of the century.

He should go…

He needed to go…

He couldn’t do this…

He needed this but he couldn’t drag Frankie back into his bullshit…

When Yovanna had told him, tears in her voice, that she couldn’t take it anymore, that he needed to go home, his mind hadn’t gone to a place. He wasn’t going to go back to his mother’s country of birth, or his father’s. He wasn’t going to go to Texas or Maine or New York. He was going to go to South Carolina. He was going to go to Frankie. The ballast of his ship, the eye of his hurricane, the—

“Santi?”

Pope hadn’t even realized he had been walking until his boot clipped the bottom step of Frankie’s porch, alerting the pilot to his presence.

“Hey ‘Fish,” he replied, a little too brightly.

“Jesus, man…” Frankie adjusted the whimpering, no longer crying, child in his arms and pulled Pope into a one-armed hug. “What are you doing here?”

Pope listened to the question, hunting for even a hint of suspicion or anger, and found none, only genuine curiosity and warmth.

“Was in the neighborhood…”

Frankie fixed him with a piercing look. “Thought you were headed to Australia to see a girl about a life?”

Pope shrugged. “Didn’t work out.”

Frankie nodded lightly. “Huh…” He looked down at the baby in his arms, no longer crying. “You settled now, mijo? You’re not gonna make Mamá tear her hair out by crying again?” The baby blinked up at Frankie and cooed, one chubby hand extending to pat Frankie’s beard. “Alright, kid. Let’s get you back to Mamá. Give me one sec, man.”

Frankie disappeared into the house and Pope took a deep breath. He still didn’t think he should be doing this, considering last time he interrupted his friend’s life, he had nearly gotten them all killed, but he couldn’t deny the calming effect Frankie was already having on him. Already, he felt like he could breathe easier and his heart wasn’t racing.

Frankie had always had that sort of effect on him. The cool, calm, and collected pilot versus the hot-headed, shoot first and ask questions later lieutenant. Their friendship, their bond, shouldn’t have worked. Like fire and water, oil and vinegar, they never should have gelled the way they did, but they did. Santi brought Frankie out of his shell, encouraged him to take control and step up when they needed his voice of reason. Frankie cooled Santi off, reminded him to stay grounded, to stay alive to fight the next fight, that he was still human underneath all the Kevlar and camo.

Frankie tempered Santi’s fire, and Santi boiled Frankie’s water. A perfectly balanced pair.

“You gonna take a seat and stay awhile, or are you gonna bolt?”

Santi turned back towards the door, not even realizing that he had been standing there with one foot on the porch steps while Frankie had been inside.

“That an invitation?” Santi accepted the beer that Frankie held out towards him and sat in one of the wooden chairs set out around a wrought iron table.

“You don’t need an invitation, cabr��n,” Frankie scoffed quietly as he took the other chair and collapsed into it, cracking open his bottle and taking a long swig.

Santi nodded hesitantly. “You never know…things change.”

Frankie’s eyes jerked towards him. “They don’t change that much,” he replied with a warm firmness in his voice that somehow set all of Santi’s nerves at ease.

“So, that was the new baby, huh?” Santi nodded towards the house. “How old is…he?”

Frankie nodded, a small grin on his face. “18 months. Mateo James Morales.”

“Cute. And Charlie?” Santi had met Charlotte King when he had a brief month long leave and had crashed at Frankie’s old apartment. Charlie and Frankie had only been seeing each other for a couple of months, but it was clear that the physiotherapist was good for Frankie. She had that same fire that Santiago had, but in a way that cleared away all the bad shit in Frankie’s life, making room for all the good to come, instead of destroying everything in its path, the way Santi’s did. That, plus her kind heart and no-nonsense attitude, made her a perfect match for Frankie. It only took minutes of being in the same room with the two to feel the love they shared for each other and, because of that love, Santi came to love her too. Anyone who could make Frankie happy was a saint in Santi’s books.

“She’s good. She owns her own clinic now, which is nice. She sets her own prices and her own hours, plus she gets a cut of all the business that comes in, so we don’t really have to worry about money. Plus, she’s a lot happier now that she can spend more time at home with Mateo.”

“And you,” a warm voice added. Charlie stepped over the threshold and sat on the arm of Frankie’s chair, wrapping her free arm around her fiancé’s shoulders as she cuddled Mateo close with her other arm. Frankie craned his neck up to place a gentle kiss on her shoulder and Santi looked away.

He didn’t begrudge his friend his happiness at all. Frankie deserved it after helping Santi wade through the muck and grime over the past decade and a half. But he wanted exactly this. The family and the home and the warmth and the love.

“Hey Santi,” Charlie called, her warm eyes sparkling as she reached across the table to squeeze his hand.

“Hey Chuck,” he greeted with an impish grin, causing her to laugh.

“Wow, it’s been a while since anybody has called me that.”

Santi grimaced. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Charlie shrugged delicately before passing Mateo to his father. “You can make it up to me by staying for dinner. I’m making that mushroom chicken that you liked so much last time.”

“That’s alright, I don’t want to impose—”

“Hey, cabrón. What did I say about invitations?” Frankie interjected, his harsh tone at odds with the silly grin on his face as he bounced his son up and down on his knee.

“I—”

“It’s settled. You’re staying,” Charlie ordered, a soft smile on her face as she stood. “Keep Mateo busy while I cook, flyboy?” She bent to nuzzle Frankie’s nose before placing a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Sí, mi amada,” Santi heard Frankie whisper softly before Charlie stepped away and disappeared inside, winking at Santi over her shoulder as the door swung closed. The boys sat in companionable silence for a few long minutes. Santi was desperate to say something, anything, for things to feel like they used to, but that wasn’t Frankie. Frankie was always content with silence, especially between friends. He didn’t need to fill up silences with platitudes or useless trivia. If he found someone he could sit in silence with and feel fulfilled, that person became incredibly important to him. He and Santi used to have that, and they could both feel the ghost of that bond floating just overhead, desperate to possess them again. But after a year apart, and the way they had left things, neither knew if they were capable of such a relationship again.

Luckily, it was Mateo who broke the silence, giggling loudly as he reached across the table towards Santi.

Santiago’s eyebrow cocked up as he glanced from the baby to Frankie and back again. “Friendly kid.”

Frankie chuckled. “Gets it from his Mamá.” Frankie considered his son for a moment before looking up at Santi. “Here.” Frankie stood and moved around the table, placing Mateo into Santi’s lap before he could refuse. Santi’s hands immediately came up to steady the chubby baby that had suddenly been plopped in his lap, eyes wide open in shock.

“Frankie, what the f—”

“Watch it, man. Young ears,” Frankie replied loftily, waving at his son, who was giggling and squirming in Santi’s lap.

“It’s not like he’s gonna remember,” Santi scoffed. Mateo was shocked into silence by the voice, only a questioning coo escaping the baby’s lips as he craned his neck around to look at Santiago. The baby and the soldier stared at each other for a long moment before Mateo squealed excitedly, clapping his hands, and grinning up at his father’s friend. He began babbling excitedly and crawling around to face him. He reached out to grip the neckline of Santi’s t-shirt and used the leverage to start pulling himself up to stand.

“Frankie…” Santi peered around the baby to stare at his friend, who was seemingly unperturbed by the events unfolding in front of him.

“18-month-olds learn about one or two words a week, hermano. If the F word is one of Mateo’s first words, I’m telling Charlie it’s on you.”

“And…uh…this?” he asked, Mateo now eye-to-eye with him and pulling at his greying curls.

Frankie sighed and sank deeper into his chair, pulling his cap further down on his forehead. “Just don’t drop him.”

Santiago sat stock still as Mateo tugged at his hair, pulled on his ears, and ran his hands up and down Santi’s stubbly cheeks, giggling all the way. Finally, the baby huffed and slapped his hands down on Santi’s shoulders and stared into his eyes.

The quiet slap could just as easily have been a thunderclap.

Santiago was transfixed.

This wasn’t some kid from a village in Colombia, or a baby that he happened to smile at in Afghanistan. This was his best friend’s son, his brother’s son. As close to his own flesh and blood as he had at the moment. A child born of love that relied on Frankie and Charlie for everything. A child who, if he hadn’t been such a dumbass, wouldn’t have spent the last 18 months not knowing his face. A child who might, if Santi was lucky, grow up calling him Tío Santi.

Santiago drew in a shuddery breath and gently pulled Mateo into a hug, giving the child lots of time to voice his displeasure, but it never came. Instead, the young boy cooed and rested his head against Santi’s shoulder. Santi blinked back the tears that had unexpectedly pooled in his eyes and met Frankie’s gaze across the table.

His old friend, his best friend, gave him a soft smile and an understanding nod as he watched his son bond with his uncle for the first time.

**********

“So, Santi, I’m not gonna lie. I was surprised when Frankie told me you were outside,” Charlie commented as she placed the last serving dish down on the table and took her seat next to Mateo’s empty highchair. “I thought Frankie said you were living in Australia now.”

“Didn’t work out,” Santi deflected, watching as Frankie entered the room after putting Mateo down to sleep.

“Her loss, man,” Frankie comforted lowly, giving Santi’s shoulder a squeeze as he sat down next to him and pulled the dish of chicken towards him.

The adults quietly passed dishes of roasted chicken smothered in mushroom cream sauce, mashed potatoes, almond green beans, and strawberry spinach salad and began to eat.

First bite, Santi groaned. “Oh my god, Charlie…”

Charlie laughed brightly. “You regret staying away for so long now, bud?”

Santi nodded; eyes closed in pleasure. “How hasn’t my boy here gotten fat with you cooking like this?”

Frankie chuckled under his breath. “Who says I haven’t?”

Charlie smiled lovingly at him and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “You’re definitely not, handsome. But even if you were, I’d still love you.”

Frankie pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before releasing her to eat their dinners. “She does her best to keep me in shape. Hiking and swimming and shit.” Santiago winced at the thought and Frankie nodded commiseratingly at him. “Well, at least your knees haven’t given out on you yet, man.”

“If you were in the area, I’d get you set up at my clinic, Santi,” Charlie added. “I don’t know how much good it would do, but there are some exercises and stretches that might help ease the ache a little.”

Santi swallowed his bite of chicken and washed it down with a gulp of white wine before clearing his throat. “Actually, that’s kind of why I’m here.”

At his announcement, both Charlie and Frankie looked at him, dinners abandoned.

Santi swallowed down his nerves.

In…Out…In…Out…

“I, uh…I found a house about ten minutes away that I was thinking of buying,” he stated in an even voice that belied his nerves. Charlie set down her fork and Frankie turned his whole body to face him. “I sold my company in Colombia,” he explained, meeting Frankie’s eyes for a long moment. In actuality, he had sold his stash of weapons to the police force and taken a fairly large payout from the private contractor he had been working for. “And I worked for a security firm in Australia while I was there. But now…” Santi shrugged. “I just think it’s time for something permanent. But I didn’t want to buy so close to you guys without talking to you first. I know there might be some hard feelings, or that you might not want me around Mateo, but—”

“Santi, will you shut up please?” Charlie stood and marched around the table to stand in front of him. “Get up.” Santi glanced over at Frankie who just shrugged and jerked his chin at him. Slowly, hesitantly, Santi stood in front of his best friend’s girl and prepared for the worst.

Odds were, Charlie knew all about Colombia. Santi knew that Frankie didn’t keep secrets from his lady, and didn’t begrudge him at all, but he knew that this could only go badly.

Charlie didn’t want Frankie to go on the mission in the first place. The team had returned one man short and without the promised money. Frankie would have returned home carrying all the guilt and blood that he had worked so hard to shed since his honorary discharge. And the person who dragged him back in was now asking to live in the safety of their shadow.

Santi wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to see him again, never wanted him to hold her child again, never wanted him to see his best friend again, never—

Santi melted into the warm arms that embraced him, one around his back and the other coming up to cup the back of his head, pulling him down to rest against her shoulder.

When Frankie had told him that Charlie was pregnant, Santi was shameful to say that he laughed. Spitfire, no-nonsense Chuck was gonna be a Mom? Are you kidding? She could match the squad drink for drink, curse for curse, any day of the week. She bullied men twice her size into following her exercise regimen for a living, twisting and manipulating their bodies into working properly again. Yet, now, Santi could see that there had always been a touch of motherhood to her. Her warmth and her kindness were what had drawn Frankie to her in the first place. Santi loved her for that, but now he loved her for so much more.

Finally, she pulled back and, much like her son, rested her hands on his shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. “If you even thought of moving somewhere else, I would take you out at the knees myself, bud.”

Santi chuckled, and if it was a little watery, nobody mentioned it.

Frankie stood and wrapped Santi up in a hug, pulling back only to say, “Welcome to the neighborhood, hermano. Mateo’s lucky to have his uncle around.”

**********

Santiago cleared his throat as he approached the front desk. The red-haired receptionist looked up and greeted him with a smile.

“Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you?”

“My name is Santiago Garcia. I’m supposed to have an appointment with Charlotte King?”

The receptionist tapped a few keys and nodded. “She’s just with a patient right now, but if you’d like to take a seat in our waiting room, she’ll be with you in a moment.”

Santi nodded and thanked the lady before moving into the small purple alcove off the reception desk and took a seat.

It had been a month since that dinner, and Santi was settling into his new routine nicely.

The sale of the house had gone as smoothly as it possibly could have (meaning, not at all), but the small old colonial style house was officially his and he loved it, despite it being quite the fixer upper. In fact, he loved it because it was a fixer upper.

At Frankie’s urging, Santi had reconnected with Benny and Will, who had taken it upon themselves to become his construction crew. Whenever Will wasn’t giving a speech or Benny wasn’t losing a fight, they were at the house, doing whatever needed to be done. Every Wednesday and Saturday, when he wasn’t teaching flying lessons or spending time with his son, Frankie joined them. Friday nights, he had dinner with Frankie and Charlie. Every Sunday, the whole crew got together and hung out at Frankie’s house. Charlie would cook something delicious, Santi would sit with Mateo in his arms, the Miller’s would do the dishes, and Frankie would hover around them all, making sure his family was safe and happy. It was everything Santi had wanted when he moved back home and more.

“Hey, Santi, sorry about that,” Charlie greeted as she appeared in the doorway of the waiting room.

Santi stood up and gave her a hug. “No worries, Chuck. I know you’re busy.”

Charlie smiled and gave him a friendly pat on the cheek. “If my staff starts calling me Chuck, I’m blaming you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” he teased as he followed her out into the gymnasium-looking clinic. Long massage tables were set up around the periphery of the room while a series of gym apparatuses took up the bulk of the middle. A giant machine sat half-hidden behind a partial wall, and Pope could smell chlorine in the air.

At the end of the square gym was a long hallway, the therapy pool built into the wall on one side and a row of consultation rooms on the other.

Charlie pulled back the curtain on one of the consultation rooms and ushered him inside. Santi slid himself onto the massage table while Charlie sat on the circular rolling chair.

“So, listen…” Charlie began with a sigh. “I tried like hell to change things around and shuffle some patients up, but I wasn’t able to fit you into my schedule.”

Santi felt his heart sink a little. He wasn’t looking for a miracle. Hell no, his last ‘miracle’ surgery had only made things worse. But he had been hoping for at least a chance to live without chronic pain. “No worries, Chuck. Honestly. It was nice of you to—”

“Would you shut the fuck up and let me talk, please? Jesus, Santi, you’re worse than Benny sometimes,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “I can’t fit you in with me, but I can get you in with Steve. We met when we were doing our DPT program, and he co-owns the place with me. You’ll like him.” Charlie met Santi’s wary gaze and smiled. “Listen, Santi. If you’re not comfortable with him, I’ll see what I can do about fitting you in with me sometime next month. But, please, give him a shot? For me?”

Santi felt himself soften and he grinned, nudging her knee with his foot. “Is that how you landed Frankie, Chuck? You flash him those puppy dog eyes?”

“The puppy dog eyes may or may not have played a part in getting him to put a ring on it. Then again, that might have been the three days of on and off labor to bring his son into the world,” she quipped as she rolled to the door to stick her head out through the curtain. “Hey, Steve! Your new patient is here!”

A shadow crossed the curtain as Charlie stood up, winking at him as she whispered, “You’re gonna be fine, hun.”

The curtain opened and a hulking man blocked a good portion of the light streaming down from the fluorescents. Stepping into the room, Santi blinked for a minute to let his eyes adjust, not even seeing Charlie slip out of the room.

The man was big. Bigger than Will and Benny, which was saying something. Not tall, but broad and muscular, a sleeve of tattoos decorating both arms. Bald with a gold stud in his ear.

What the fuck was Charlie thinking? This dude looked like he was about to break his legs, not help fix them.

Steve (and sweet Jesus, his name was Steve? Did his parents even think before naming him?) took the stool that Charlie had been sitting on and straddled it, rolling over to the table Pope was sitting on.

“Hey, man. I’m Steve,” he grinned brightly, holding out a hand for him to shake.

When their hands clasped, Pope understood why Charlie thought they would get along.

“Where did you serve?”

Steve laughed. “Two tours at a VA hospital in Germany after I got my Bachelor’s degree. Couldn’t afford to get my DPT without Uncle Sam footing the bill. How’d you know?”

Santi laughed. “Spent the last 14 years shaking hands with the brass. It gets pretty easy to tell who has a military handshake and who doesn’t.” At Steve’s questioning look, he continued. “Delta Force. Been all over kingdom come.”

“Ah, so you served with Frankie, huh?”

“Known ‘Fish ever since basic. Been close ever since,” Pope nodded.

Steve nodded with a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve got a couple like that. I’m sure it’s different because we never saw a battlefield, but I get it. Knowing you’re on the same side, being with the same people for years, it forges something.” Pope nodded thoughtfully for a moment before lapsing into silence. “So, I’m guessing all that running around for the good of our nation did some pretty serious damage to your knees, huh?”

Pope smirked, thankful for the out he was being given as he dove into his medical history.

**********

45 minutes later, Steve led Santi out to the main gym and pointed at one of the massage tables along the wall.

“Go hangout there for a minute. I’ll grab the printout of those exercises I was telling you about and a couple of cryo cuffs.”

Pope nodded and settled himself onto a table as Charlie guided her patient onto the table next to him.

“So, how did it go?” she asked as her patient unsteadily eased herself onto the table.

“Oh c’mon, Chuck, you know you were right.”

She shrugged with a tiny smirk on her face. “Well, yeah, but it doesn’t hurt to hear it every once in a while.”

Steve returned and Pope spent the next few minutes setting up his first appointment time, going over the home stretches Steve was giving him to work on, and allowing Steve to wrap both his legs in puffy blue leg braces that he then filled with ice water.

“Alright, man. Hang out here for as long as you want. Just give me a call when you’re ready to go.”

“Sure thing, thanks Steve.”

Pope gently lowered himself onto his back, head cushioned by a thin pillow as he allowed the frigid water to wash away the ache in his knees.

“…Alright, turn over onto your tummy and I’ll get the heating pad for your back,” Charlie informed her patient.

“Oh, you’re actually being nice today and letting me relax to finish off the session,” a playful voice responded, slightly muffled as she turned herself onto her stomach, facing away from Pope so he could only see her hair.

“I’m always nice,” Charlie snarked with a smile as she moved to the steamer and removed a thick heating pad, quickly wrapping it in a cloth and draping it over her patient’s back.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Santi piped up, grinning at his friend. “Charlie’s an awful human being. Stole my best friend and everything.”

The responding giggles sent shivers up his spine as the patient turned her head towards him and he met her eyes for the first time.

“Don’t I know it,” she teased, but Santi barely heard her.

Warm, provoking eyes were framed by long dark lashes that just skimmed her cheekbones when she blinked. A small smile played across full lips, framed by soft looking skin. In short, she was stunning, even with her sweat soaked brow and her slightly hitched breathing.

In…Out…In…Out…

“Yeah, okay Santi,” Charlie’s teasing voice pulled him from his stunned reverie. “I’m so awful I was about to ask if you had dinner plans. You could come see your best friend and your nephew, but I guess I’m too awful of a person to do that.”

“What’s cooking?” he asked, pulling his eyes away from this woman who had definitely caught him by surprise.

Charlie shrugged. “We were just gonna order some pizza and wings. Frankie texted me and said Ben has some sample tile for you to look at for your bathrooms. Will offered to bring beer.”

“Sounds good.”

“Sweet. Now stop being a dick and tell everyone how wonderful I am.”

“Yes ma’am,” he called, laughing under his breath as she sauntered away. He brought his eyes back to the woman lying next to him and found her watching him with an amused look that was peeking out through the space between her hair and her shoulder. “She isn’t that great,” he joked.

She laughed again, and Santi found himself scrambling for another witty comment so he could hear the sound again.

“Trust me, I know,” she responded, adjusting her arms so that they still pillowed her head, but she could now see properly. “She’s been beating on me for weeks.”

“That sounds like Chuck,” he laughed.

She giggled again and Pope preened under her gaze. “Oh, I am so calling her that now.”

He winced with a smile. “She might actually kill me if you do.”

“Oh well, we don’t want that,” she smirked, raising her head a little. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure physiotherapists have to follow the whole ‘do no harm’ thing too. I’ll make sure she can’t hurt you.”

“Thanks, I feel much safer now,” he smiled softly, crow’s-feet crinkling happily at his eyes. He reached a hand out into the empty space between their tables. “I’m Santiago, but most people just call me Santi.”

She smiled and shifted so she could free one of her arms to shake his hand. “I’m Rebecca. It’s nice to meet you, Santi. What are you in for?”

**********

Tags list (open): @darksideofclarke, @writefightandflightclub, @eternallyvenus, @rae-rae-patcha, @himbopoes, @sophoclese, @phoenixhalliwell

#dad!pope #santiago pope garcia x oc #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #oscar issac #pedro pascal #frankie catfish morales

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otonymous · 5 years ago

Text

Origins (MLQC Lucien)

Description: Discover the truth about the MC (MLQC AU) Warnings: 18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings: mild mentions of violence, blood and gore; scientific experimentation & related unethical behaviour. Spoilers for chapter 13. Word Count: 1647 words (~8 mins of darkness, angst, and (hopefully redemptive) fluff at the end) Author’s Notes:

@marytheredqueen requested a drabble about Lucien with a s/o he created himself (like a romantic version of Victor Frankenstein). This was an intriguing Ask that took me in a very interesting direction which, unfortunately, was more conducive to angst than lascivious thoughts (and also turned out to be much longer than a drabble)! So apologies, dear requester! I do hope you enjoy this story nonetheless, as I had a lot of fun writing it 😊

This piece contains some spoilers for Chapter 13 of the game, but the rest is a conglomeration of speculative AU dabbling. The lines marked with an asterisk were taken directly from Chapter 1 of the game.

Please note the trigger warnings listed above, and happy reading! 👍🏼

All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex

Blood splattered thick across bulletproof glass, crimson smear obscuring the view into the room, grey and bare save for a single straight back chair of brushed steel and an overturned table resting against the far wall.

And the woman, chest heaving as she stood beneath fluorescent lights, impeccable were it not for the wayward splashes of red marring her white gown like macabre polka-dots.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” she would later tell him, head bowed and gaze on the ground before it swept up to meet his, her eyes wet with tears. "I thought they were going to hurt me. I was scared. Do you believe me? Are you disappointed?”

Panic had set in her voice when her hand, delicate and small, flew up to encircle his arm in a grip firm enough to make even the strongest of men flinch. But Ares didn’t even bat an eye.

He could never turn away from his own creation.

“Of course I believe you, foolish girl. Why would I be upset with you for disposing of garbage?"

He placed a gloved hand over the crown of her head to see her smile of relief, felt the warmth seep through black leather as she nuzzled into his touch. Ignored the soft groans of the men in neon hazmat suits when they entered the room, trying their collective best to hold in stomach contents while gingerly sidestepping body parts strewn across the concrete floor.

“I hate having to clean up after his experiments. That girl is a fuckin’ freak, tearin’ apart all these guys without even having to touch ‘em. Scares the living shit outta me.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth or he’ll hear you. You may have a death wish buddy, but I wanna live.”

The faintest expression of amusement crossed Ares’ face. As if he had the time or inclination to deal with every small fry who spoke behind his back within those walls of black steel, the carbon towers of the Black Swan collective stretching high into the sky like impudent fists bucking the laws of nature herself.

Freak, they had called her, when beautiful was what she really was. Surpassing all of Ares’ expectations even when those convened in that hall of polished obsidian murmured objections under their breath, the organization’s top brass silently gloating that finally, finally…there was something that Ares, the golden child, couldn’t do:

“I heard the project was a failure. The subject’s too violent…”

“Out of control. Unpredictable. She’s a ticking time bomb.”

“Hiding in plain sight? Ha! The girl won’t even be able to integrate into normal society. It's out of the question...”

Even still, the lot had gone silent when Ares swept his cool gaze in their direction, the placidity in dark eyes sinister in a way that none dared to challenge. It wasn’t until a metal ring began to tap sharp against steel that the tension in the room was broken.

“They say the subject is unstable, Ares; that your project is unsalvageable. Why do you persist in a futile endeavour?” The voice projected from the shadowy dais, bouncing off expansive walls in an eerie echo.

“Oh? And who, pray tell, is best positioned to determine whether or not an experiment has yielded usable results than the scientist himself? Subject LUC13N is the most advanced prototype I have developed to date, and is, as it stands, our organization’s best chance at achieving its goals. But you don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve already witnessed first-hand what she is capable of.”

The metallic tapping ceased, an uncomfortable silence descending upon the standoff between the two men until it was finally interrupted by the one seated on the dais, speaking in a tone both amused and threatening at once:

“Proceed with your plan, Ares. But know that I do not tolerate failure.”

The scientist rose from his seat at the glass table, the long tails of his black coat sweeping behind him as he left the others in the rumble of discontent that erupted in the wake of the proclamation.

He had no time to listen to the fallout. There was still much to do.

“I’ll get better, train harder…try to control my abilities! Isn’t there another way?!” Her hysteria dies down the moment she sees the look on his face: firm, resigned. Studying the matte, black capsule on her palm, her voice grows small. “I don’t want to forget you, Ares. You’re everything to me…everything I know.”

His large hand reaches out to cup her face, thumb rubbing against the softness of her cheek when he says in a voice laced with fatigue, “It’s the only way.”

She blinks, delicate eyelashes fluttering to make the breath catch in his throat. The hitch in his movement is slight; Ares is careful to conceal it. She mustn’t know that as she had begun to change, evolving into something greater and far more complex than his initial designs, so did the way he had come to see her.

As something more than a test subject. A person. The woman who carried the genes he so painstakingly extracted and recombined within the mutating cells of her beautiful body. Tremendous power hidden in an unassuming package — soft and tender and always so pliant in his hands.

And — in what might be the most surprising discovery of all �� a creature who had unwittingly breached the barriers to human emotion and learned what it was to love…teaching him how to love in the process.

Ares pulls away, reaching for the tall glass of water on her bedside table to hold it out in offering. She takes it in a trembling hand, hesitant.

“What’s going to happen? I swallow this and forget? What of my mission?” She looks again at the pill, rolling it about on her palm as if all its implications could be revealed in the contemplation of its featherlight weight.

Kneeling before her, Ares’ lab coat spreads about his legs in a bright halo on the muted concrete floor. He brings his face level with hers, slowly sliding the glasses down the bridge of his nose before resting them on her bedside table beside a pair of paper cranes.

“You’ll forget all of this. Forget Black Swan, forget me. I'll give you new memories: a happy childhood, friends and family who love you. You'll get the chance to know what it's like to live like a normal human being. Go to work, come back to a warm place you can call your home. Eat foods you’ve never before tasted. Laugh and cry at the movies. Maybe even fall in love-”

“I’m already in love with yo-”

Ares silences her with a long finger laid gently upon her lips. He hoped she wouldn’t catch the way it trembled with the force he exerted to keep himself from losing control, holding back the painful emotions that stabbed deeply into his heart. He couldn’t stand to hear her state what they both already knew to be true, even if they had refrained from confessing up to now:

That Ares had fallen in love with a creature of his own making. And in an unlikely miracle, she returned his feelings.

“In exchange, the pill will bury the power inside of you until the time is ripe for you to awaken."

The girl remains motionless save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest, slowly processing the words of the man who made her. “Awaken…and when is that?”

“That’s not for you to worry about, silly girl. I'll be there when it happens, watching over you. Or did you think I'd leave your side?"

At this, her head snaps up, eyes darkening as pupils expand in an attempt to capture this last image of the man more important to her than life itself.

“Never leave me,” she says, pinching the pill between thumb and forefinger and lifting it to her lips.

A faint smile, beautiful and bittersweet, graces Ares' handsome face when he nods. "I promise."

Her lips part, sealing their fates as the capsule disappears into her mouth to be swallowed whole.

“Hello, I’m looking for Professor Lucien."*

The woman approaches him on the stairwell of the research centre, eyes squinting for a moment as bright sun shone through the windows to set her face aglow in a way that took Ares’ breath away.

Finally, together again.

He schools his voice, trying to temper the euphoria that threatened to overwhelm him at their reunion. "Lucien? What do you want with him?"*

“I’m a producer from the Iridescent Images company. Here’s my card. I want to invite the professor to be our guest on the show ‘Miracle Finder.’”*

Ares looks at the delicate hand extending the business card in his direction, remembers the way it used to grip his arm whenever the girl was anxious or scared. Sees the shy hesitation in the eyes that once looked upon him with love and affection, and is warmed by the prospect that they could have that happiness once more.

And so, it begins…

Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#otonymous COVID19 drabble #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fic #fanfiction #my writing #marytheredqueen #all request line

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durotoswrites · 4 years ago

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🧑💎🎁 i hope you feel better soon by the way! i’ve never had heat exhaustion but it sounds scary 😦

Ask me about my writing processes and stories!

I'm feeling mostly like myself this evening. It wiped me out a lot more than expected it to. Thank you everyone for the get well wishes!

🧑 Favorite character to write:

Short answer: Harvest Moon’s Cliff (all incarnations)

Long answer: I don’t think it’s really any secret that my favorite Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons characters to write for are the ones that reside at Doug’s Inn. I see Doug, Ann, Gray, Kai, and Cliff as a large, dysfunctional family – AKA Doug and all of his children, haha. There are so many different personalities in one small space playing off of one another, and there’s so much fun to be had. I loved how all the guys in shared a room in the GBA version of Mineral Town. It kinda reminds me of those cheesy sitcoms where clashing personalities all reside under the same roof. That being said, there is a particular shy, reclusive young man who blossoms with confidence as he finds purpose in his life. Bonus: he comes with a vague, tragic past that has tons of potential for exploration. I have a hard time resisting woobie-type characters.

💎Favorite trope to write?

Ah, there are so many tropes out there…

I really like writing characters who appear to be strong, but if they get hit in that crack in their armor, they just fall apart. Kinda like how in TSN Karen is very soft for her friends despite coming off as sassy and in control, and more recently some stuff has been going on with Gray, who typically can keep a stoic (or at least pissed-off) expression. Having those “stronger” characters actually lean on someone is really satisfying to write, and it’s also a great way to showcase how the “softer” characters are actually really strong themselves. On the flipside of that, I also like writing softer characters slowly realizing their strong points and becoming more confident, too.

Do those count as tropes?

Other ones that I like (not a conclusive list):

SLOW BURN

Found family

“It’s not what it looks like!”

P I N I N G

Awkward flirting

Begrudging friendships that turn into besties

Smartass with a heart of gold

Liquid courage

Party scenes in general

Cameos

Only one bed

🎁 Have a quote from a WIP?

I would take this to mean a quote for something upcoming. Here's a snippet for the next chapter of The Shy Newcomer that I drafted last night. Spoilers under the cut!

Cliff rinsed off his razor and continued, realizing how long it had felt since he had washed up and shaved on his own. He frowned; Elli was likely worn ragged from all the care she put into him. He thought of her kind eyes as she had helped him into the bath, her gentle voice as the warm water lapped over his skin. The nurse had told lighthearted tales about her and Stu or silly moments she and Mary had shared to keep the mood light and eliminate any awkwardness between them as she tended to him.

He had caught her eye from time to time as she had cut his hair, her cheeks blushing to a bright pink as she let out a nervous laugh, continuing her work. She really had been far too kind.

I asked too much of Elli...

I asked too much of everyone.

Maybe I always have.

The shaky smile he had forced on his lips dropped as he caught his eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

It's not a 'maybe' – it's a 'definitely'.

He focused on the tired bags under his eyes; they had been getting better but last night left him looking as exhausted as he felt. His face had lost a lot of the boyish roundness that was in his family photo. It had only become slimmer since he moved into town and he couldn't tell if he simply looked older or sickly. His gaze traveled down the scars that crawled up his arms and he let out a heavy sigh when he spotted an offensive row of marks and fading bruises left from the IV treatments Elli gave him; he avoided fixating on his reflection for a reason.

So pathetic... I'm not even allowed to lift things at work right now...

His gaze moved down his bare torso, and he sighed at his narrow waist. He was a far cry from his strong, barrel-chested father. Surely Flint had been much more capable than Cliff was when he was his age.

You can still almost see my ribs. It's like I undid a lot of the weight I managed to put back on...

I'm sorry Elli had to look at... all of this.

Bright sapphire eyes with flushed cheeks and wisps of golden hair made his heart throb, remembering the other evening.

Why would Claire ever want to kiss me? I'm so-

He was grateful for the smart rapping at the bathroom door.

“Yo! You can wear another one of my sweatshirts if you want today!” Gray's voice sounded more like a command than an offer. “Supposed to be cold...”

Cliff tore his eyes from the mirror grateful his trance had been broken. “Oh, uh... I have something I can wear...”

#ask box games #writing

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dungeonmalcontent · 5 years ago

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Flopsy And Fatherhood

I have been thinking a lot about one of my characters lately. If you don't want to hear about Flopsy, the bugbear bounty hunter and his journey of learning about fatherhood, scroll past this.

Flopsy was one of my first character concepts to see actual game play. Like most good characters, at least the kind that you get attached to, he was a joke character. I was testing the limits of what you could do at low level without weapons. I wanted to play a brute that could punch around corners, and it was gonna be silly. I based his appearance after a few different animated characters with long arms and floppy ears; namely Fiskerton from The Secret Saturdays and Antylamon from the Digimon franchise (don't judge me). He was supposed to be this awkwardly scary and fluffy monster that looked like he could be both cuddled and capable of snapping a few necks on a whim. And as a bonus, after the first session, his voice became modeled after Ron Perlman (granted I'm bad at voices) because he just kept becoming more of a character as he went.

He started out exactly as intended, except the DM and another player threw in a twist. My backstory wasn't really fleshed out yet, and I was asked if I was okay with Flopsy being the adopted sibling of the other players character. I have no clue if that was something the DM did on purpose for story reasons, but it has literally changed everything.

The shared backstory that I developed with the other player led to Flopsy and Thokka (the other PC) being the adopted children of a zealot monk. After slaughtering both of our villages he had attempted to Pygmalion some of the children young enough not to realize what had happened. After mostly failing the tests of our adopted father and suffering abuse for being monstrous creatures only fit for fighting, Flopsy burned the hut with the monk in it. Other zealous monks from the order noticed, gave chase to the two monster children, and the two were separated in the chaos. Thokka, a tiefling half-orc, ended up in the care of a monastery of drunken monks that couldn't care less what she looked like, and Flopsy ended up in the woods for a few years. And then a crime ridden city for a few years. And then he joined a bounty hunting guild. After a few bounties he found himself inexplicably in the same place as his sister, and that's where the campaign began.

It isn't a very complicated backstory, but it created an opportunity that our DM definitely took advantage of after a few sessions. Our game started as a job to find out what happened to a professor at a local college, and when it turned out that she had been killed by a night hag the job was basically finished. The hag escaped, but had to leave her ritual unfinished, and admittedly, Flopsy had tried to seduce the hag while it had been disguised. We all got the impression that the hag would be the BBEG for the campaign.

This is leading somewhere, I promise.

After a few other jobs, our party wound up in a small town that had been the center of some crop rot and pestilence that had spread to the surrounding area. The cause of the problem was a warlock who had used his granddaughter as a focus for demons and demonic magic to seep into the world. In the parties attempt to stop the demon's influence, we got into a fight we were quickly starting to lose. We had the demon in front of us, a collapsed little girl off to the side, and countless shadow imps all around us. Flopsy was about to go down and he was becoming increasingly less useful in the fight, so he had two plans on what he was going to do when his hit points went into the red. Plan B) Use an unknown planar artifact on himself, killing himself to potentially drag the demon and its influence back to the hells. But that is a last resort, because plan A) kill the girl and attempt to sever the demons connection to the prime material plane, seemed much easier to try first.

And when Flopsy was about to go down, he tried plan A.

And it failed.

When Flopsy realized what he'd done, and that he couldn't undo it, he was a mess. He went down to 0 hit points a few times while the cleric tried to keep him on his feet best as he could. And when the demon managed to get away with a sliver of health left, Flopsy didn't give the party the option to think of a new plan and he set the building they were all in on fire. They made it out a window with the girl's body, and the demon presumably died.

The town's problems were solved, after some other fussing, and the girl was revived through the use of gentle repose and revivify. Flopsy learned that the girl, Kara, had been abused by her grandfather and when the party realized the town did not want anything to do with her anymore, Flopsy was the first to propose the party adopt her. Or at the very least, find her a new home in a different town.

Something important to know about Flopsy, is that he is primarily driven by money. He was raised heartless, and after all he had gone through he only cared about the resources he needed to survive. That meant gold. And he was good at hunting down criminals for money. So long as he could keep himself safe, nothing else mattered.

So when Flopsy killed Kara, something changed. He realized that he was essentially killing a younger version of himself in order to spare an older version. He had further broken a battered little girl just to try and save himself. It was so many levels of realization. He had become his father, the abusive monk that only cared about survival and cleansing the world of "evil." And for the first time since he had killed that monk, he felt the urge to protect something other than himself... and it felt more powerful than the urge to protect himself. I mark this as the moment that his alignment changed from true neutral, to neutral good. Though it took some time for him to realize that.

And so when Flopsy actually realized that he had no idea what he was doing as a parent figure, he actually took the time to try and figure out what Kara needed to learn to survive. He tried to teach her to fight, to reason. The cleric taught her how to handle some of the latent magic she was left with. Thokka showed her how to have fun and enjoy life. And things were good for a few sessions. It was a strange experience to have a ward (basically) in a d&d game, I imagine it was close to how the critical role cast felt about Kiri (the similar spelling is incidental, I promise). But it allowed for a great deal of character growth and family development. It was great for Flopsy, because he had something to reign him in and prevent him from fighting in his normal reckless ride or die fashion... or that might drive him to fight even harder than he normally would.

This wouldn't be such a big deal or worth the amount of time I'm putting into this, if it weren't for this last part. The DM, intelligent woman that she is, pulled a sneaky on the party. While the party was out fighting another demon, the hag abducted Kara. And that sent Flopsy off. I had never anticipated this fictional, silly looking, angry fur ball to become so real and motivated. It felt very personal. This hag that Flopsy had flirted off an on with through her nightmare haunting ability, had become a real evil threat. This little girl that he had grown to care for and consider at least to be another little sister that he could actually help and save, was taken from him. And to make matters worse, the hag intended to experiment on her; the same thing that had been done to Flopsy.

I don't know where it will go from there. This game in particular moves pretty slowly, which isn't a bad thing. I feel like I get to savor all the parts of it. If nothing else, I'm very excited to see what this sort of situation will drive Flopsy to do. Will he swear an oath of vengeance and take some levels in paladin? Because an unarmed barbarian paladin would be amazing for smiting and hunting down a hag. Or will he end up becoming a more skilled hunter and protector against the unknown? He does already have some ranger skills and it would be an interesting multi-class if nothing else. Maybe he just learns to hone his rage even more to overpower what he knows will be an inevitable fight with the hag.

What I do know is that Flopsy has become something very real and important to me as a player. That joke about how the most silly starting campaigns turn into the most serious is accurate in this instance. I would fight to get this poor fuzzy orphan the life he needs, and that probably includes him building a family. It's one of life's greatest joys. It's also been a surreal experience for me personally, as I have become a father at roughly the same pace as Flopsy. I know the sort of anguish and rage that would stem from anything happening to my child.

I want to just keep talking about Flopsy and fatherhood now... but there isn't much to say. It's wonderful.

#d&d #dnd #story time #flopsy #dungeons and dragons

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loucifieri · 7 years ago

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NDRV3 HPA AU characterization notes

(also added some additional details on their character designs :D) I already made a character guide of the kids here, but after writing a spontaneously updated fanfic about their school/dorm life, I now have a better grasp of how to portray them in this AU. More under the cut~

Family headcanons here

[Facebook] [Instagram] [Twitter] [Blogger] [Kofi]

The HPA AU comics I’ve been doing admittedly focused more on certain characters, so I’ve hardly thought about how to flesh out the others. To remedy that, I wrote a chatfic that revolved around them as a class and what started as something ‘just for fun’ turned into something a bit more serious, complete with plot and drama (which is strange for something in a chatfic format lol).

Kaede Akamatsu: The cheerful, charismatic and kind pianoholic who promotes friendship and cooperation, earning her the position of Class Representative. Selfless and empathetic to a fault, but can be quite pushy and bossy. Behind her confident facade, Kaede is insecure of not being able to live up to her responsibilities believing that all she’s ever good at is playing the piano, going by a ‘fake it til you make it’ attitude so as not to disappoint the people that relied on her ‘leadership.’ She has a tendency to be tactless towards people when very annoyed or under extreme stress.

Add: While not a very good cook, Kaede is an experienced baker.

Closest friend/s: Shuichi (childhood best friend), Rantaro, Kaito, Maki, Kirumi, Tenko (she is at least good friends with everyone in class tho)

Shuichi Saihara: The meek and soft-spoken detective in training who eventually fills the role of assistant class rep to Kaede. Cool-headed and intelligent, Shuichi shows promise of being proactive and responsible, but has difficulty in asserting himself due to confidence issues. He can be very emotional, prone to easily cry when overwhelmed by negative emotions. He also struggles with depression at times, although he tries to hide it as best he could. To people he is close with, Shuichi can be quite sassy and would joke about his ‘emo aesthetic.’

(When Shuichi wore his hat, his necktie is the standard red one)

Add: Shuichi is an avid fan of all things detective (looks up to Kyoko Kirigiri, has a sizable collection of Nancy Drew Books and Detective Conan Manga, retweets a lot of Sherlock Holmes quotes etc.)

Closest friend/s: Kaede (childhood best friend), Kaito, Maki, Kokichi, Kiibo

Kokichi Ouma: The self proclaimed supreme leader, he is a compulsive liar and prankster, fond of being disruptive and annoying towards his peers. While he tends to lie a lot, it’s not as outrageous and over the top (like in-game), and he would never push the buttons of anyone who was already distressed. Behind his outward unpleasantness, Kokichi cares a lot about his classmates, often calling them out on their bad habits (albeit it’s also in an unpleasant way) and looking out for them in his own unique way (which is subtle, at most). He dreads showing this side of him to class 79, as this was a sign of attachment on his part and this was only reserved to D.I.C.E members initially.

Add: Kokichi doesn’t know how to dance.

Closest friend/s: Rantaro, Shuichi

Maki Harukawa: The surly, unapproachable ‘assassin’ who is the walking definition of a tsundere. She dislikes socializing with her classmates, mostly because of her inability for small talk and difficulty to relate with her peer group as she spent most of her time dealing with children (in the orphanage). Maki is blunt but not unkind, and may be occasionally dismissive but (secretly) greatly appreciates those who reach out to her. Being emotional is Maki’s greatest pet peeve, making her great at compartmentalizing and repressing her emotions.

Add: Maki was physically conditioned and trained to be an assassin but it was for her to be Motion Capture stunt girl for an assassin-centric game. Has not killed anyone in real life, but physically can if desired.

Closest friend/s: Kaito, Shuichi, Kaede

Kaito Momota: The loud-mouthed and passionate astronaut who likes to give pep talks more than Kaede. Kaito pretty much keeps the class lively with his dumb antics. Despite his air of stupidity, he is quite street smart and a good judge of character. He has patriarchal views on gender roles, naturally irking most of his female peers. Additionally, he is hot-headed, stubborn and very competitive. True to his very upbeat and positive persona though, he dislikes showing weakness/ appearing weak. Kaito suffers from Tuberculosis, hence he coughs a lot.

Add: Kaito makes the best omelettes.

Closest friend/s: Maki, Shuichi, Kaede, Ryoma (one-sided)

Rantaro Amami: The lax and enigmatic adventurer who likes to meme, apart from traveling the world. Rantaro has a big brother vibe to him, but can be quite silly at times. He is fond of recounting experiences about his travels, often retelling them in a more imaginative version. Despite his nonchalant approach on everything, Rantaro is very particular on people’s perspective of him. He craves to be an important figure among his classmates, just like his central role on his siblings’ lives.

Add: Rantaro has a Youtube channel where he makes travel vlogs in the style of Bear Grylls’ Man VS Wild.

Closest friend/s: Tsumugi (middle school bestfriend), Kokichi, Kaede, Kiibo, Korekiyo

Kirumi Tojo: The responsible and mature maid with a strict adherence to her creed on selfless devotion. Kirumi is very capable of doing any (reasonable) task given to her, completing them with practiced efficiency. Taking her talent more seriously, she appears impassive and mechanical to her classmates. Her maid schtick is actually a conscious effort for her; beneath the carefully-maintained frigid and collected persona is a shy and anxious Kirumi with personal whims and ambitions. She has a sense of humor and would sometimes tease her classmates in some way or another (which always takes them by surprise). She can be quite condescending and judgmental when pushed to the limit.

Add: Kirumi is a closet bookworm, and has a collection of cheesy, young adult romance novels (may or may not own some raunchy ones).

Closest friend/s: Ryoma, Kaede

Korekiyo Shinguji: The studious and aloof anthropologist who revels in the beauty of humanity. Kiyo likes to observe people, mentally taking note of the intricacies of human nature, although this hobby of his isn’t taken kindly by some. Ambitious and resourceful, he spends a lot of time reading to further his knowledge. In turn, he is quite socially inept and often scares away any ‘potential friend’ with his intelligent ramblings. He is very close with his sickly older sister, but gets annoyed with her fussiness.

Add: He is a capable illustrator, often adding sketches on his journal of anthropological notes.

Closest friend/s: Rantaro, Gonta, Angie

Tsumugi Shirogane: The quirky cosplayer and talented seamstress with a habit of referencing popular and obscure pop culture stuff. Tsumugi is an avid fan of a lot media, from games to animes to TV shows, both western and japanese, often spending most of her time in her room to indulge in her fandoms. She also has a tendency to break the fourth wall and would reference the ‘NDRV3 canon universe.’ Tsumugi is quite insecure of her geeky side, and is a bag of nerves when under the spotlight. She is cowardly and unable to stand her ground, often playing for both sides in an argument in an effort to please both.

(the only one wearing the HPA uniform without modifications lol)

Add: She is a big fan of Junko Enoshima (a fashion blogger with her own brand of clothing).

Closest friend/s: Rantaro (middle school bestfriend)

Ryoma Hoshi: The stoic and detached Pro Tennis player who is very fond of felines. Ryoma likes to spend most of his time alone and would often disappear to god knows where. He is responsive when in conversation, talking in a melancholic tone. He is profound and insightful, open to giving advice freely to those in need. While very patient, he is vindictive and unforgiving to those who wronged him horribly. His whole family was murdered by a mafia group (leaving him with just the family cat) and he has since personally chased leads that will bring the perpetrators to justice. Despite his pursuit of the killers, he is not interested in delivering justice on his own and merely conducted his own investigation to aid law enforcement.

Add: Ryoma has a folder of cat game apps on his phone, his favorite in particular being Neko Atsume.

Closest friend/s: Kirumi, Gonta

Gonta Gokuhara: The gentle giant with a fascination on animals, particularly insects. Gonta is good-natured (very kind, polite and honest) but naive and childish. In spite of this, he cannot be easily tricked by Kokichi and would sometimes even join in on roasting him. He wants to be a gentleman and really tries his best to exhibit qualities of such. While not academically smart (being raised in the wild), he has extensive knowledge on flora and fauna. Gonta has bouts of self-doubt, believing himself to be incapable of anything. He can be very hard on himself and would do reckless things to prove himself.

Add: Contrary to most of his classmates’ impression on him, Gonta is not technologically challenged. He plays Overwatch in his free time (he mains Bastion).

Close friend/s: Ryoma, Korekiyo

Miu Iruma: The lewd and brash inventor with onion skin. Miu is outspoken and campy, often considered obnoxious by her classmates. She likes to make dirty jokes and projects an air of self-importance, but is also quick to deflate when reprimanded or talked back at. Being neglected her whole life, Miu wants attention, hence her over the top personality but this in turn made her a deplorable person. She spends most of her time building knickknacks to stave off the loneliness she feels. Over time, she does try to be less of a difficult person.

Add: Miu doesn’t know how to swim or ride a bike (but she can invent something that will keep her afloat on water and something that can keep her balanced on the bike).

Close friend/s: Kiibo

Kiibo Idabashi (not a Robot): The well-meaning and pacifistic Robotics Engineer that has a difficulty in relating with his fellow humans. Kiibo has lived a very sheltered life and has not been exposed to any social interaction with his age group prior to his enrollment at Hope’s Peak, making him quite stiff and robotic. He is very shy and apprehensive at speaking in class or called to recitation. He is also wimpy, but can get very defensive of his robotic creations.

Add: Kiibo missed out a lot on his childhood, so class 79 would often indulge him on what he was deprived of (like having pizza, playing tag and watching animated films).

Close friend/s: Miu, Shuichi, Rantaro

Tenko Chabashira: The energetic and cheerful aikido master who loves to defend girls from the degenerate MENaces. Tenko loves to be active, often encouraging the girls to exercise (especially those with a sedentary lifestlye). A fiery character, she wears her emotions on her sleeves and reacts strongly on impulse. She has a on a hair trigger temper, especially if the aggressor involves a guy and has a tendency to be physically violent. Tenko’s distaste towards men in general stems from a dark past: she and her mother suffered abuse from her own father. Her mother was eventually murdered by her father in front of her (at a young age) and after her father was subsequently locked up, she was taken in by her mother’s friend who was matriarchal.

Add: She is an adept shogi and chess player.

Close friend/s: Himiko, Angie, Kaede

Himiko Yumeno: The resident sloth who also happens to be a magician (er… mage). Himiko is very lethargic, dislikes doing almost any physical activity, often trying to weasel her way out of doing assigned tasks and the like. She isn’t dismissive of social interaction though, and is quite talkative when you start a conversation with her. She loves to watch youtube videos and web series, particularly korean drama. She is good at math, and would tutor Angie and Tenko when pestered enough.

Add: Himiko is ambidextrous, and can seamlessly use chopsticks with her left hand.

Close friend/s: Tenko, Angie

Angie Yonaga: The eccentric and bubbly artist with a deep devotion to an obscure religion. Angie is a pious devotee of Atua, and is willing to provide for the spiritual needs of her classmates. She loves mentioning unusual habits and customs from her island home, such as blood sacrifices and orgies. Hardly anything fazes her, this nonchalance and ignorance being considered sinister by some of her peers. Even with the best intentions in mind, she sometimes used religion to get what she wanted.

Add: Angie owns four horses (named War, Famine, Pestilence and Death) that Hope’s Peak allowed her to keep in school (for some reason). Their stables were located at the student/staff parking lot.

Close friend/s: Korekiyo, Tenko, Himiko

Great Gozu: The former Ultimate Wrestler is now the homeroom teacher of Class 79A. Despite his intimidating physique, he is gentle, patient and very supportive. He becomes quickly attached to class 79A and is quite protective of them.

And now for the romantic relationships~ (I inadvertently retconned some stuff from the HPA AU comics in the fanfic version apparently, I’m not very good at slow burn lol)

Kaede//Kirumi: Both of them are altruistic, though one is out of pure selflessness while the other due to moral obligation. Kaede is the first to develop a crush on the other, mostly out of physical attraction but it’s Kirumi that first falls in love between the two of them. Kirumi is mostly drawn to Kaede’s comforting presence and empathic nature, and is impressed with the pianist’s diligence in perfecting her musical craft. Kaede admires the maid’s dedicated work ethic, and is very enamored with Kirumi’s elegance and grace. Kaede’s considerate nature holds her back from pursuing Kirumi head-on out of respect for the maid’s seemingly unshakeable adherence to her creed of selfless devotion, while Kirumi struggles internally in balancing her whims and sticking to her creed. This results in them tiptoeing around their feelings towards each other.

Shuichi//Kokichi: One lies while the other exposes the truth. Kokichi, despite his growing interest on the detective, denies his feelings. Shuichi, initially unconfident about his chances with the supreme leader, takes the leap and reveals his feelings first. Kokichi is drawn to Shuichi’s intelligence, good-natured personality and cute face (and he may or may not have a detective kink). Shuichi is drawn to Kokichi’s complex personality, considering it a mystery puzzle only he could solve. Both Kokichi and Shuichi suffer from insecurities that the other deserve better than themselves; Kokichi believes Shuichi wouldn’t fall for him because of his complicated personality while Shuichi thinks Kokichi was in love with the more appealing Kaito, somewhat resigned he has no chance.

Kaito//Maki: Polar opposites and yet both hide the same thing; one relies on outward emotion to hide a weakness while the other represses emotion to hide a weakness. Kaito is greatly drawn to Maki’s independent and capable mindset but struggles with his own sexist mindset. Maki falls for Kaito’s endearing personality, but struggles to make sense of her romantic feelings. Eventually, they both overcome their weaknesses. Maki is the first to fall for the other, and while she is also the one to confess her feelings first, it was Kaito who first changed his ways, learning to be less sexist. Maki avoids Kaito when her feelings toward him intensified, but this unfazed the astronaut and remained wooing her consistently.

Tenko//Himiko: Polar opposites that balance each other out. Tenko and Himiko may have been the first pair to be immediately drawn to each other but they are the last pair to be officially together. Tenko’s more active lifestyle gets Himiko to reconsider her lethargic nature while Himiko’s relaxed attitude grounds Tenko’s overactive nature. Tenko was drawn to Himiko from the get-go, and while the smaller girl was initially annoyed by the aikido master being insistent, she eventually warms up to her. They subsequently act like girlfriends, but surprisingly their ‘official’ get together doesn’t happen til later.

[others to be added lol]

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storytimewithcort · 7 years ago

Text

Fresh Start (Part 5)

Fandom: Marvel, MCU

Basic Summary: Everyone’s favorite ol’ AU where we forget Infinity War ever happened! Loki and Thor are living with the Avengers because why not. Reader is hired to work for Tony and Pepper, and she and her son soon meet Loki. Etc Etc Etc - Part 5, The date goes pretty horribly

Pairing: Loki x Reader (Single Mom Reader)

Warnings: some semi suggestive language?, some dude being a tool. No smut, but some something something right at the end.

A/n: This chapter takes place directly after chapter 4. I rewrote a lot of this multiple times over until I felt like I couldn’t change it anymore for my own sanity. Hopefully this is the best version. I still need to do a major edit of the entire story to fix little grammatical things 😛

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

---------------------

The night started out great. Your friend, Lena, introduced her girlfriend with a huge grin on her face. She was obviously excited to show her off. The woman turned out to be extremely charming, kind, and very silly, which was exactly what you expected knowing Lena's tastes. You didn't even feel like a third wheel as the three of you got drinks at the bar while you waited for the remainder of your party to arrive.

At exactly 8 o'clock you heard a voice call out for Lena. She turned and greeted a rather short, but attractive man who was appeared about your age. He introduced himself and as you went to shake his hand he wrapped his fingers around your own and brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. You froze in place for a second.

First you couldn't believe this very action you once thought only happened in fairy tales had happened to you twice in the last month. Secondly you couldn't help but compare this to when Loki did the same few weeks ago. Even if Loki's actions had confused you in the moment, the little kiss had felt natural and it sent thrills through you. Loki's lips were soft and gentle. You wondered briefly why nothing like that had happened between you two since that moment. You had been spending more time together. He always showed up just as you were putting the kids down for naps and the two of you would read together, eat lunch, or just chat until they woke back up. It did get a little flirty sometimes, but nothing remotely like that little kiss happened again.

This was a different experience all together. This kiss was somehow too wet and too dry all at once, plus this man gripped your fingers so tightly they actually hurt. In fact, you attempted to pull out hand free and he held tight for another brief moment before releasing you.

Glancing around the large club you started to suggest getting a table, but suddenly felt you didn't want to be stuck inside a booth with this guy. You smiled weakly at him as you offered him the seat next to you at the bar. You all began chatting about work and college. It started out pleasant and he seemed like a rather smart guy, but you also learned quickly he was a unique combination of vapid and vain. He could steer any conversation back to himself, which you wanted to say was a good thing when first getting to know someone, but he didn't offer anything interesting. He kept bringing up how he was 'the best' in his fraternity, 'the best' in class, 'the best' in his internship for some telemarketing company, but never actually saying anything about what he did during those times or anything to give light into his personality.

Outside, Loki thought hard about where you would go. He figured you weren't going too far from Tony's house and you'd prefer somewhere close to a subway entrance. He knew you'd refuse to go anywhere that wouldn't allow you to get to Jonas in mere minutes in case of an emergency. Unfortunately his lack in specific knowledge of the city was proving unhelpful. Luckily, upon passing one club entrance he felt you. Your aura was easy to recognize if he focused. He waltzed in ignoring the bouncer who didn't dare stop him.

By the end of your second drink you were a bit tipsy and utterly bored. You hadn't even intended to have more than one drink because you didn't want to get drunk around a stranger. Plus, you could add drinking to the list of things you've done very little off lately. You kept drinking because it was something to distract from how uninteresting this guy was. Lena did her best to keep the conversation going and the mood light. She could tell you weren't into it and was doing her best to salvage the situation but she herself was getting distracted by the pretty girl on her arm who wanted to dance.

When the song changed to something a more minor and melodic compared to the uppity dance pop playing moments ago. Lena's girlfriend squealed with excitement and dragged her lady love away to the dance floor going on about her favorite song. You sighed to yourself, thinking maybe you did miss that connection more than you thought you did. They looked so enamored with each other as they cuddled up close on the dance floor.

Your date spoke up, placing his hand on your upper arm. You assumed it was an offer to dance, but you didn't have time to acknowledge him because this tall man was suddenly standing between you both having pushed away the man's arm. You looked up at him and were starstruck. Everything about him was dark, his hair, eyes and clothes that seemed straight out of a gothic novel. No, something straight out of modern telling of a greek tragedy. All in all, the look totally worked for you. Something about him was very familiar, but you couldn't place it. He smiled wickedly at you, but you didn't feel intimidated, his familiarity calming you. He offered you a hand and you accepted before your mind could even register the possible threat. You stood up to follow him.

You found yourself being pulled through the mob of people dancing until you were in a far corner, close to a hallway that led to bathrooms. Once he stopped moving, he turned back to face you and you found yourself being pulled close to him.

"Look, if it wasn't obvious, I wasn't exactly enjoying myself back there. But that doesn't give you the right to sweep me away. I can handle myself." You told this phantom suitor, as you came to your senses and placed both hand on his chest to push him away, but didn't actually move to do so.

"Perhaps." He drawled, "but isn't it fun to leave him wondering why he could not even compete with a stranger?"

You stared at him as he spoke, even if the voice was foreign to you, the way he talked was familiar too. You watched him smirk at you in a way you know you've seen before. As he began to sway slightly, you followed suit, letting him place his hands on your waist.

"Do I know you?" You asked trying so hard to retain a neutral expression.

"Not as well as I would like you to." He answered, his eyes not leaving yours as he did. You expected a cryptic answer and chose to ignore it.

"It isn't Halloween, why the costume?" You ask, maybe if he kept talking you'd remember how you knew him.

"I thought you'd like it. It's my modern take on something I knew you admired. A beautifully dark god, so you called him." As he spoke he moved one hand up your back and the resulting cool tingle up your spine was too familiar not to recognize. "With you all dolled up in green like a true goddess, I only found it fitting."

"No...." you said disbelieving, "how...you're not....you look...what are you doing here..." You mumbled again confused. It had to be him, you only ever felt this enthralled and simultaneously confused around him. "Loki?" You asked meekly.

The man laughed as a subtle glimmer washed over his face and sure enough Loki smirked back at you when it faded. "I'm truly impressed how little time it took you to figure it out."

"What are you doing here?" You repeated, your voice squeaking. The realization made you feel more intoxicated than you were seconds before.

"You said it yourself, you weren't enjoying that fellow. I came to help you out." As he spoke you vaguely heard steps coming up to you but it was too hard to discern them from other noises in the club.

"Did you followed me here?" You asked, trying to understand why he would come to a place like this, or if he really was just coming to find you.

"You followed her? What's your problem dude?!" A voice behind you boomed. You instinctively leaned into Loki more at the sound of anger, and felt relieved when he in turn held you tighter. Your date was then beside you, his face reddened in anger. He was glaring up at Loki with a grimace.

"Oh I have tons of problems, the biggest one at the moment is being called 'dude'." Loki retorted with a poisonous tone you weren't surprised he was capable of.

You didn't care for this guy, but still felt compelled to calm the situation before anything escalated. "I'm sorry for running off, that was rude of me. I should have said...something, but honestly, I wasn't feeling a connection with you and when my friend showed up I-"

You were forced to stop mid-sentence as your date grabbed your arm in a sorry attempt to pull you away. "Bullshit! This is a different guy that at the bar! You're just getting cozy with anyone huh? I was told you were desperate, but this is ridiculous."

You were completely taken aback by everything. His uncalled for rage, his accusations - all of it. "E-excuse me?!" You stuttered.

Before you finished speaking Loki had batted the man's hand away again. This time with a force that actually pushed the man back a few feet at the same time. He yelled out as he regained his footing and the disturbance started to attract a crowd. Lena walked up to you all, her face full of concern.

"What's going on?" She asked timidly.

"Your friend's not as easy as you claim, or maybe it's that she's actually too easy." He spat, nodding at Loki.

"I never said anything like that!" She said, and you couldn't tell if it was more to him or to you she was defending herself to. It didn't matter, you were done. Done with the whole night. Done with the bad date, done with whatever game Loki was playing at, done with whatever Lena was saying about you at work, done with being a spectacle for onlookers, just done.

Emotional exhaustion hit you fast and you pushed away from Loki and turned to walk away. You walked away quickly, dodging through the gawking crowd easily enough, they all obviously didn't want to be a part of whatever just transpired. You made it outside having ignored a few calls at you as you did. Taking a deep slow breath you tried to calm yourself. Everything could have been much worse, you realized, but it still didn't make you feel any better. You debated going uptown to Tony's or back home. You really wanted to cuddle with Jonas. Given it was a little after eleven you figured it was best to let him sleep without interruption. You started to walk towards the subway entrance. You weren't keen on taking it alone this late, but you also didn't want to walk all the way home. You make it around the corner from the club when you felt a tug on your hand. Your defenses flair up and you pull your hand back, whipping around to see who was there. Loki was standing there close behind you.

"Y/n..." He started tentatively.

Sighing, you turn fully you face him. "You shouldn't have interrupted. Everything was fine until you showed up."

"Was it? You were on a date with a ticking time bomb." He countered.

"It was fine, all I had to do was stand by for a little bit longer, then I would have excused myself and it would have been easy."

"Not at all! He tried to follow you out of that club, if your friend didn't get in his face he would have confronted you out here, outside of the safety of other people around." As he spoke your shoulders slumped.

You struggled to find something to say. "That's...it's..." You were too tired to think anymore. "Was he really that bad of a guy?"

"I'm afraid I'm not the best judge of that." Loki spoke solemnly.

"This was all a mistake. I knew I wasn't meant for this sort of thing. I should just go home." You said as a shiver ran down your spine. You left your jacket in the club. You looked back at the entrance and determined it wasn't worth it to get back. "I better hurry up, it's too cold to stay around here. I guess I'll see you later." Loki was heartbroken over how melancholy you sounded. You took a few steps, then surprised him by turning back around. "Um..actually, could I maybe go with you?"

Loki starred at you wide eyed for a moment, trying to decipher your meaning.

"I haven't spent the night alone anywhere in years. I just don't know if I'd be able to sleep with out Jonas being home...plus the tower's closer." You said and he smiled gently at you.

Loki offered you his arm like before and you took it. After a few steps, you nestled into him, looking for warmth. He guided you down the few streets until the large tower loomed over you both. When the warmth of the lobby was so comforting. Once in the elevator you looked over to Loki. "Hey, I am glad you showed up...but I don't still don't know why you did."

He looked back at you, "I already told you." His eyes caught yours.

"You couldn't have known my date would be that bad."

Loki nodded as if to say he surely did know your date was doomed. "I was sure he wouldn't be a good match for you regardless of who he was."

"Is it that obvious I shouldn't be dating?" You said lacking any self confidence.

"The fault isn't your own. They're all the ones not worthy." He reassured you with a conviction that seemed to radiate from his eyes into yours. It made you blush on the spot.

"Shush, I'm not that special. I have a son and a job that requires me to work about sixty to seventy hours a week. That leaves no free time and very little access energy. I'm not one to wear makeup and I almost always have some sort of stain on my shirt thanks to the kids. Not exactly what most people are looking for." You tried to argue you weren't that great of a catch, and you didn't even know why. However, after tonight you surely felt like you weren't that great.

A chime rang out in the elevator as it came to a halt, Loki looked at the floor that was selected and frowned at you. "Why did you pick that floor?"

You shrugged, "There's a twin bed for Jonas in the nursery, plenty of room for me. I figured-"

"Nonsense, what is the point of coming home with me, only to sleep all by yourself on a floor that I assume is bigger than your entire apartment?" His voice was smooth with that velvet tone again that you always were drawn to.

"So where?" You asked, feigning innocence.

"You're kidding. You know exactly where." He smirked, looking you up and down. The air the little elevator suddenly much thicker as he leaned over slightly to press the button for the next floor up.

"And that's ok with you?" You confirmed in a squeaky voice, just to make sure. You were the one who suggested this, but you felt all the same flush of nerves you got the last time he invited you to his room.

"Obviously." Loki's little chuckled at his remark sent a thrill through you. Why was it always like this.? He was so cool and collected as to make you never feel confident in knowing what he was thinking one moment and than the next he was oozing this aura that was nothing short of a siren's call pulling you into his gaze. Not so surprisingly seductive gaze.

You made it to his room again, it looked exactly like it did before. The only noticeable difference was your book sitting on his bed. This warmed your heart in a million ways. The full scope of what he was wearing hit you. The long suit jacket was certainly a modern take on the robes you looked at countless time. "Did you really dress up for me? Like in my book?" You gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, not entirely sure what to do with yourself as you waited for his response.

He walked to a dresser, pulling out a couple items before pausing and then turning to face you. "Everything I said tonight was true. You dressed like a goddess so I thought only best to dress as a god."

"I thought you were already a god? Doesn't that make anything you wear - dressing like a god?" As you spoke he held out a shirt in front of him, this one didn't look as nice as the one you borrowed before, but you were sure it was still immensely nicer than your typical sleepwear.

"Technicality. More fun to dress to impress." He mused walking back over to you, offering you a simple white t-shirt.

"I could argue you dress to impress all the time." You smiled, taking the shirt from him.

Loki sat on the edge of the bed next to you, "Does it work? Do I impress you?"

When you turn to look at him, you're struck by how close he really is. You couldn't help but lean in a little more as he quirked an eyebrow at you. What was with this guy? You were genuinely a little annoyed with him less than an hour ago, and now you were opening flirting with him. You had a hard time believing he dressed up, gorgeously by the way, all to impress you because he thought the same about you. Maybe it was the fact you were a bit lonely, maybe it was the allure of someone truly other-worldly, maybe it was how despite your responsibilities and schedule you spent hours and hours simply talking to this man about everything you could think of and enjoyed every minute of it, or maybe it was just how pretty his eyes were this close. No matter the reason, you definitely wanted to kiss him right now, and by the smirk on his face he knew it.

"You do."

"Good."

You couldn't say for sure if Loki moved incredibly slow or if time itself slowed down, but it seemed like you stared into his eyes for centuries. Then time hit you all at once, knocking the wind out of your lungs. Or maybe that was Loki's lips on your own, either way, you were utterly breathless and all other thoughts left you mind.

------------------

to be continued

Lovely people: @1v-kayla , @unicorniorosacomefrutillas, @jessiejunebug, @hiddlestonstansworld, @hey-liz-hey, @fortheloveofallthatsholy, @perceptorxbrainstorm, @kinghiddlestonanddixon, @ godhateskyleigh and hopefully I didn’t miss anyone ❤

#marvel imagine #loki x reader #loki fanfic #fresh start #storytime #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #marvel au #loki imagine #mcu #mcu imagine

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thedcdunce · 7 years ago

Text

Starman

“Cosmic Rays from the stars concentrated in the gravity rod enable me to soar through space!” - Starman

Real Name: Theodore “Ted” Henry Knight

Gender: Male

Height: 6′ 0″

Weight: 177 lbs (80 kg)

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Brown

Abilities:

Genius Level Intellect

Equestrianism

Equipment:

Cosmic Rod

Gravity Rod

Base of Operations: Mobile

Universe:

Earth-Two

New Earth

Citizenship: American

Parents: Daniel Knight; father

Marital Status: Widowed (Adele Doris Drew; wife)

Occupation: Scientist

First Appearance: Adventure Comics #61 (April, 1941)

Appearance of Death: Starman Vol 2 #72 (December, 2000)

Abilities

Genius Level Intellect: Ted possesses a brilliant intellect, mastery of several sciences, and a gift for invention. In addition to the gravity and cosmic rods, Ted created the cosmic staff.

Astronomy

Equestrianism: As a wealthy socialite, he bred and raced horses.

Equipment

Cosmic Rod

Gravity Rod

History

Ted Knight was, in his beginnings, an immensely wealthy heir, whose wealth nearly matched his boredom at the insipid life he lived as a playboy in his native Opal City, so he rarely showed up at parties or the like, preferring to devote his time to his true passion; science. He spent vast amounts of money scouring the heavens, and ultimately found the stars themselves routinely bombarded Earth with great amounts of energy, which, unfortunately, he had no means of harnessing. Knight's cousin Sandra spoke to him about Professor Abraham Davis, a man who had built her a weapon against crime, the Black Light Ray, which she used to become invisible. Inspired to visit Davis to talk about the energy source, Knight and the Professor created a device they called the Gravity Rod, a piece of technology far ahead of its time. The rod could be used for flight, energy projection, and several other applications. As for the power source, both convened in using the stellar energy Knight had discovered. Sandra's prior adventures as the crime fighter Phantom Lady inspired Ted to take on the identity of Starman, and use the gravity rod to fight crime. As Starman, he became the defender of Opal City and a frequent ally of the FBI. He was a member of the Justice Society of America for much of the 1940s and, like other mystery men of the time, served in the war-time All-Star Squadron.

At this time, the love of Ted's life was a woman named Doris Lee, who often chastised her layabout playboy boyfriend, unaware of Ted's costumed persona. Doris was tragically murdered in 1951 while attempting to warn Ted about a plot by his archenemy, the Mist, to create a gas capable of inducing mass-madness. What made this more tragic was the fact Lee had discovered Knight's secret only a few days prior. This event, combined with Ted's role in the creation of the atom bomb, caused him to suffer a nervous breakdown. He was confined to a mental institution for a number of years as a result.

Ted was motivated to return to active duty in part by his own time-traveling sons, David and Jack, who aided him by unwittingly revealing the Mist's plan all along, with David additionally becoming a replacement Starman for the final months of 1951. It was revealed that Ted Knight had a brief affair with the first Black Canary in the 1960s, which filled in blank spots in the hero's past.

Like the rest of the Justice Society, Starman spent many years in retirement following the end of the Golden Age of heroes, but he returned to help mentor the team's spiritual successors, the Justice League of America. During his years as a civilian, Ted Knight married a woman named Adele Doris Drew, and fathered David and Jack. David idolized his father while Jack disdained the silliness of superhero life and his father's perceived focus on costumed adventure over family, after a childhood period of adoration and subsequent disillusionment. Knight's happiness would not last long, however, as his beloved wife died at a relatively young age, killed by a natural, slow-acting disease.

Starman finally sidelined from hero work permanently by the events of Zero Hour. Previously kept virile by the effects of an early JSA mission where he and his comrades were bombarded by the radiation stemming from Ian Karkull's shadows, Ted Knight was restored to an age closer to his natural one by the temporal villain Extant. He subsequently hung up the costume and concentrated on his original love, science.

Following Ted's retirement, David inherited his mantle as Starman, but was killed early in his career by the son of one of his father's old enemies. Jack then inherited the title, although not without grievances. The retired Ted Knight provided Jack with a more powerful staff, the Cosmic Rod, sometimes advised him and, over time, the two estranged Starmen reforged the bond of father and son, with Jack ultimately understanding his father's heroism. In exchange for Jack taking up the defense of Opal City, Ted agreed to use his cosmic-powered inventions for the benefit of mankind rather than simply costumed adventuring. Ted went as far as to take care of the insensate Mikaal Tomas and a gentle version of Solomon Grundy to please Jack and ensure his continued adventures as Starman.

Ted's associations were not limited to this, however. He was the first to actively attempt to communicate with Tomas after a period of several years during which he was kept chained as a circus freak. After a devastating blast that nearly killed Grundy, again, Knight valiantly ventured into the behemoth's mind to save the gentle soul he had seen save many after the blast. He made friends with one of his old, retired villains, the ageless Shade, who genuinely cared about the city of Opal. This mutual interest and love helped close the gap between the two former enemies and often prompted them to meet for friendly chat.

During Jack's adventures, he was again attacked by several super villains, among them the irradiated monster Dr. Phosphorus and the mercenary Deathbolt. During his first joust against Phosphorus, the villain had just signed a deal with Neron, and was unaware of exactly how to control the deadening of his abilities; this allowed Knight to walk away unscathed from the fight. Later on, Phosphorus again attacked Knight, but by now he had mastered his new body. This second assault, set during the Grand Guignol, left Knight terminally ill with cancer. He also managed to stave off an old enemy, the Ragdoll, and convince him to leave Opal before Simon Culp's plan came to fruition.

Ted eventually died in battle with his old enemy, The Mist. With a massive variant of his Gravity Rod, he transported them both into orbit, along with Opal City's Government and Postal Building, where The Mist's nuclear bomb could detonate without harming the city. In his final moments, he made peace with his old enemy and cheered him up. Postmortem, he met with Jack a final time, with his other son David. Knight gave his blessing to Jack to leave the Starman mantle, as well as Opal, so he could live a good life with his girlfriend Sadie and his son by the second Mist.

Fun Facts

Ted Knight is an atheist.

#starman #theodore henry knight #ted knight #ted henry knight #justice society of america #all-star squadron #all star squadron #jsa #dc #dc comics #thedcdunce

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amerart · 8 years ago

Text

“Alright Ada, let’s try THIS one on for size.” The scrap of notebook paper rustled as it was unfolded; me and the other girls crowded in, eager to see this foretelling of my future.

“Lucky you, you got an Oldsmobile!” My friend, whose name was Ferngully, announced.

“Noooo!” I clutched a stuffed giraffe close for support, feigning agony.

“And you’re going to live in a hunter’s shack in the woods. In Canada. With your ten kids AND your mangy old dog.”

There was a chorus of giggles; attempting to join them, I made a strange, mechanical chortling sound.

“And lastly- oh Ada, this one’s SO unfair I might just cry!” Ferngully grabbed a box of fairy-scented tissues and pretended to dab at the edges of her eyes.

I raised an eyebrow. “Do tell?”

“You’re going to marry…an ultra-romantic BILLIONAIRE!”

The other girls burst out clapping; as I lacked the capability of blushing, I just felt a weird heat rising around my face.

“What kind of idiot marries an android in the first place? That’s like, marrying your toaster.” I muttered, stuffing my face with a few leftover Valentine’s Day chocolates.

“ADA!” Ferngully scolded, smacking me with a frilly pink pillow and causing chunks of chocolate to spill out of my mouth. “Don’t say mean things about yourself! I’m sure you’ll find a nice, rich, robot-loving man EVENTUALLY… And when you do, I expect you to invite us all over, all the time, for sleepovers and parties!”

I sighed, putting my arms behind my head and leaning against an enormous fluffy dog plush. “When android-human marriages become a thing, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, time for the next game!” Ferngully announced, clapping her hands. “Let’s play... Truth or Dare! Ada, since you got the best deal out of the last game, we’re gonna ask you first. Truth, or Dare?”

“I pick Truth.” I said, wary of the wild dares the girls were bound to come up with.

“Ada haz chosen ze TRUTH!” Ferngully shouted, and the girls put their heads together, whispering and trying to make sure I didn’t overhear, which was kind of pointless given they were well aware of my enhanced hearing abilities.

“Alright, here’s your question…” Ferngully cleared her throat. “What do you wish for?”

I blinked at her, feeling the gears whirr slowly in my mechanical head. “There’s my Prime Directive, if that’s what you mean… I thought I already told you guys all about that?”

“Not that, you silly ‘bot… I mean, what’s your WISH? What do you want out of life? Do you wanna like, kiss a cute boy? Or go skydiving? Or go swimming in a pool of sharks or what?”

I made a totally grossed-out face. None of those things sounded appealing in the slightest, especially the bit about swimming with the sharks. Then my expression softened. “I mean, there’s this one thing, but it’s like, super personal.”

“Come on, now you GOTTA tell!” The other girls insisted.

“Yeah Ada, it’s truth or dare! You HAVE to tell!” Ferngully said.

“Alright, I guess…” I grabbed another pillow, this one white with a unicorn stitched onto it. “But you can’t make fun of me, okay?”

“We won’t, we promise.” Everyone agreed.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, I really, reaaaallly want to win the school beauty paegent. Like, I don’t just want to be IN it, I want to WIN it. Sorry it’s kind of a stupid wish, they probably don’t even let androids into stuff like that anyway, and even if I did there’s no way I could win ‘cause my skin is all weird and sometimes I just straight up forget how to move…”

“Omg Ada, that’s the most amazing wish ever!” Ferngully beamed.

I looked up from the pillow I had buried my face in. “Really?”

“Totally! And according to the Android-Amendment law they just put in, they HAVE to let you join or else its unfair and the school could get sued.”

“We can help you find a dress and help you with your makeup and everything!” Another one of the girls said, and the others nodded along.

I felt the weird burning sensation again, but managed to smile weakly. “If you say so…”

And that was how, one month later, I found myself wandering the aisles of the biggest department store I had ever seen, nearly in tears (androids can’t actually cry, but at the moment I sure felt like I could). “Stupid robot, you should have just let your friends help you like they wanted to.” I muttered to myself. “But no, you gotta go do it ALL by yourself.”

Pop music was being piped in through unseen speakers; more than one person was unconsciously mouthing the words or moving to its rapid beat. I spied several lemon-scented candles hidden surreptitiously throughout the store; I’m sure they would have smelled wonderful, if androids had only been gifted with the ability to smell.

In two hours I had examined at least ten, twenty different dresses, but found some deal-breaking flaw in almost every single one. Too long, too short, too much glitter, not enough glitter… The only one I HAD liked ended up not even fitting. Not for the first time, I cursed my ungainly, mechanical body, and immediately felt horrible.

How would my Maker feel, if he knew I was thinking such terrible things about his most exceptional creation? I fingered my communication pod through the pockets of my time-thinned jeans. Should I go home? No. Not yet. Just a little longer- I was sure I would find something soon.

“Welcome, shoppers!” I jumped as a Vision Screen, one of at least thirty scattered around the store, flashed on in front of me. “We’ll get you looking from DRAB to FAB in ten minutes flat, or it’s on us!”

I watched, mesmerized, as every screen changed in perfect sync. The next commercial was some kind of advertisement from a local pet store; squirming puppies, mewling kittens, and even a sullen-looking baby hedgehog all filled the screens with their pitiful whining. I smiled to myself; being an android did have its perks after all, and immunity to cute animals was one of them.

Nearby, a group of girls, high schoolers by the look of it, stood fawning and squealing.

“Awww, look at that puppy, I could just eat him up!” One of them swooned.

“Look, they’ve even got little baby mice!”

I froze, my gaze locked on one of the screens.

“Awww they’re so tiny and cute!”

Had I been human, surely at the moment I would have retched all over the polished marble floor. Mice… Why did it have to be mice?

I began to feel dizzy, a lifetime of horror stories and panic attacks coming into my mind. Tiny mice with their sharp teeth, chewing up circuitry and defecating inside mechanical hearts; mice, tunneling through paper-thin synthetic skin, turning stomachs into nests; and the worst vision of all: a hoard of mice that had overpopulated and now poured out of their victim’s mouth like some kind of sick, twisted beehive.

I fished my communication pod out of my pocket, and dialed a number.

“I need you to come get me. Please.” I sounded hysterical and hated myself for it, but I couldn’t help it right now.

“I’m on my way, Ada.” My Maker’s voice was gentle, though with a curiously flat air that only a scientist could possess.

The advertisement on the Vision Screens had changed by now, but the images of the revolting rodents continued to run in the wheel of my mind, their menacing, squeaky voices forming a disconcerting harmony.

When my Maker messaged me that he had arrived, I bolted out of the store, ready to be free of that horrible place.

“So was your acquisition of finery a success?” He asked, once we were safely strapped inside our electric travel vessel and hurtling down the expressway.

I leaned my head against one of the cool glass window. “Nope.”

“Aw, sweet, what’s vexing you?”

I debated whether or not to tell him; it wasn’t that he wouldn’t listen, it was just that I wanted my feelings heard, not psycho-analyzed.

“It’s just that…” I fumbled with a stray wire sticking out of my arm. “Nothing fits me. Not clothes, not school, not anything. It’s like I don’t even belong in this world.”

“Oh sweet, you know that’s nothing but nonsense, mere balderdash.”

I lifted my face from the window. “Oh yeah? Is that why I always get picked last for kickball, and why I can’t find a single dress that fits, and why I flip out every time someone mentions the word ‘pool’? Is that all nonsense?”

My Maker sighed a deep, long sigh. For a minute, he dropped the scientific edge that tended to flavor his speech. “Oh Ada… Don’t you know that all of us feel like that sometimes? Everyone, whether human or android or somewhere in between, is going to feel out of place at some point.”

I made the robot equivalent of a sniffle. “Even batty old scientists?”

My Maker nodded. “Even batty old scientists. You’ll figure it all out, sweet. I promise.”

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, as I contemplated his words. Upon arriving home, I stumbled out of the travel vessel and headed for my recharge chamber.

“Hold on Ada, there is something I must show you.” My Maker said, unlocking the code-sealed door to his lab. I followed him inside, not hesitating as a red line scanned my face and two more lights scanned the rest of me.

It wasn’t especially large as far as labs went, but every inch was covered with a mix of papers and loose mechanical parts.

I plopped down in one a battered swivel chair, feeling it pop and squeak as I spun around and around. Quickly growing bored, I turned and viewed the huge, lightning-blue screens that dominated one full wall of the lab. On it was something like blueprints, with the outline of a human figure drawn in smart white lines. I read the captions, though I knew them all by heart.

Ada Atmore, Version 13.5. Hair color: Platinum. Eyes: Copper. Height: 5’’1. Weight: 115 lbs.

I spun in my chair, tasting the labels that gave me being. There was a bunch of science-y stuff on there too that I didn’t really get, but I figured it was probably important.

“Ada!” I spun to face my Maker. “Activate the light for me, will you sweet?”

I raced for the switch, and saw that it illuminated a faceless, me-sized mannequin, upon which sat the most beautiful dress I had ever seen.

“Is that… for me?” I whispered, staring at it.

“I was going to conserve it for your next upgrade day, but given the circumstances regarding the shopping event, I postulated it would be best to give it to you now. My Maker sounded very pleased with himself. “It is composed of a special nanotechnology involving mechanical spiders, snakeskin, and good old fashion cotton.”

I could care less what it was made of; I was just happy that it existed.

“Thank you, Maker, thank you!” I squealed, embracing him in an awkward hug (scientists, as a rule, would rather have the plague that be hugged, but at the moment I didn’t care.)

“I am glad you like it, Ada. Now, go to that pageant and make me proud!” He said, in a sudden moment of almost fatherly pride.

I grinned and agreed with him. Before I knew it, another month had flown by, and suddenly the big night had arrived.

We joined the stream of people filling the crowded auditorium; I was quickly herded off backstage by a chaperone, while my Maker waved me off and took a seat.

Having already prepared hours beforehand, I stood around uselessly while everyone else made last minute applications of make-up and hairstyle changes. The air was a thick haze of hairspray and anxiety; I heard a few people sneeze. In one corner, two figures sat huddled by an outlet, frantically waving a decrepit hairdryer.

“ADA!” I heard Ferngully’s voice, and suddenly I was being bowled over in a hug.

“You came!” I said.

“Don’t sound so surprised!” Ferngully chided playfully. “I could be DEAD, and I would still come to my best friend’s big night.”

“I don’t think you’re even supposed to be back here.” I laughed, though secretly I was glad for her presence. The two of us made our way to the big, thick curtain that was the color of India Ink and peeked out, scanning the crowd.

“There’s a lot more people than I thought there would be.” I confided to Ferngully.

“Omg Ada, is that your dad?” She asked, elbowing me. It took me a few seconds to spot my Maker, but there he was in the front row, wearing the most hideous outfit I had ever seen.

“May Asimov have mercy on his soul.” I muttered, closing the curtain again.

“Looks like they’re calling lineup.” Ferngully said, giving me an inspiring shoulder punch. “Now go out there and SLAY!” She then disappeared, headed to her place in the audience.

“First up, we have Katie Abbot!” The first girl in the lineup scurried forward, and vanished to the other side of the curtain.

Somewhere behind me, the people with the hairdryer had turned it up to maximum power in a last-ditch effort to make it work.

I turned my attention back to the curtain as the second name was called. I felt my heart quicken. It looked like they were going in alphabetical order, which meant my turn wasn’t far behind.

“Hey, does anyone else smell something burning?” One of the other girls said, but her concern went unnoticed.

“Next up, we have Vernelle Allgood!” One more, and then it was my turn. I picked at my dress, then picked at my synthetic skin, realizing just how many tiny flaws it contained.

Apparently the burning smell had intensified, as a few people were actually starting to cough. Its source wasn’t hard to find- despite being unplugged, the hairdryer was now issuing copies amounts of acrid smoke.

“And now we have our very own Ada Atmore, Android Extraordinaire!” I cringed; I hadn’t wanted to put that in the program, but my Maker had insisted. I slipped out from behind the curtain, feeling extremely self-conscious and having more than a few second thoughts about this whole thing.

“GO ADA! WE LOVE YOU!” My Maker shouted from the front row, surrounded by a number of his scientist friends whom had had dragged along.

I stepped to the front of the stage and smiled as broadly and naturally as I could manage. “Tonight, I will be singing Porter Robinson’s Goodbye to a World.” I said, hating the tremor in my voice but plunging on ahead despite it.

It wasn’t just my voice that trembled; my whole being felt like it was going to fall apart from the shaking. Yet as I began to sing, something changed. My voice became louder and louder, my hands more steady; every insult, every self-deprecating thing I felt about myself began to fade.

Halfway through the song, a metallic ringing sound reached my ears. Someone’s cell phone, perhaps? Surely they would notice and turn it off, sooner or later. But it continued, and with a jolt, people began to get up from their seats. The smoke, the ringing, the sound of something hissing overhead, could only mean one thing, something I feared even more than mice.

I kept singing, even as the deluge of water from the overhead sprinklers hit me. Even as my body crackled and collapsed, and electricity turned my voice into a mechanical mess, I kept singing. I had to do this. I had to finish the song.

Only when my Maker rescued me from the sopping stage did I finally stop.

“Did I win?” I gurgled, water filling my mechanical lungs.

“Of course you did, sweet.” I felt him press the first place medal into my hand. “Just like we knew you would.” Through rapidly fading vision, I saw Ferngully whisper anxiously in his ear.

“She is not unfixable.” He said. “Though she certainly won’t be the one we knew before tonight. That Ada is gone.” He hefted my falling-apart body as though were light as air. “In her place, a new Ada, a brighter and bolder Ada than we’ve ever seen before.”

And together, the three of us made our way out of the soaking auditorium, to a world made brand new.

#short story #android #robot #@my creative writing professor #I know you said it was supposed to be around 5 pages #but I couldn't squish it down #I ran out of time #I"m so sorry you have to read 9 pages of this now

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