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amuelia · 4 years

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I'm not sure if you've ever mentioned anything about this but how do you feel about show Roose? I was really sad to see his character get cut so much but I really like his voice,,,,it's a good Roose voice ( also it's CRIMINAL how they took away the Bolton's pink like they don't even wear anything but black in the show 😭😭 ) (( also also I absolutely love your art YOU MAKE SO MUCH GOOD ART OF UNDER APPRECIATED CHARACTERS ITS SO GOOD TO SEE 🥺😭♥️♥️ ))

I think the actor is very handsome and talented! I like reading his Interviews, he seems very intelligent and you can see the thought he put into his character and his scenes. He did a great job with the material he was given, and i think it’s very understandable and professional that he read the first books but then decided to focus his portrayal on the show scripts, because the way they wrote him was too different.

Did you read the books before you started filming? I read the books before I started. Well, I read two of the books, and then I stopped actually. Because the character in the books is very, very different to the character in the show. The core differences were he spoke with a whisper. He never raised his voice. He had no emotion on his face. I remember there's a [line] that joy and laughter were very similar. So you couldn't play that. It's fine if it was the Roose Bolton show, you could do something like that. The character was not written like that at all. So it kind of did me a disservice reading the books. So I put them aside and just concentrated on the character in the scripts. - Michael McElhatton, IGN interview

But also, in the end, what he mentions about the difference is part of why, as a book stan, the show version doesn’t interest me that much; it’s not even about him specifically, but just a general thing all the show characters share. Just like most other characters they adapted, they completely suck the fun out of the character grrm wrote - no leeches, no icy eyes or pale face, no pink house sigil; ending up with a character that pretty much looks and acts like every other dude. I don’t need Roose to look like Dracula (as much as i love it, the long dark hair for example is not book canon, since his hair is never described), but he should be memorable! Instead, i often hear that people new to the show don’t remember his s2 scenes, or mix him up with other regular looking dudes like Stannis, or otherwise don’t remember him. One of grrm’s biggest strengths is how with just a few traits he makes every character memorable and distiguishable; think about any random character and youll probbaly remember at least one “special trait” that sets their appearance or personality apart from the rest. The show completely falls flat in this regard, ironically making it so that the books make better use of the “visual medium” than the show does.

Apart from that, visually the actor is ok; Considering a Dance with Dragons came out at a similar time as the first season and the casting process takes a while, I don’t blame them for leaving out some details of his character descriptions (for example his “ageless” appearance or the small close-set eyes are only mentioned in aDwD). His height (175cm, influenced my hc for the book version) and body type are close to the book, though i wish they’d left him clean-shaven like in s2 for the entire show. He has a bit of a long face which fits with the book’s northmen. He’s no Supermodel but i heard him called handsome frequently, so idk if that fits with the book description “not handsome but not quite plain”; i love interesting faces more than conventionally attractive ones so i can’t really judge objectively. Voice is imo too deep (imdb also calls it “commanding”), i imagine him having more of a mid range voice; and the actor also just talks normally instead of being notably whispery/quiet.

In terms of characterization, as the actor hints at, I do not think they are written very similarly. Roose in the books is a character who is ruled by an underlying fear/anxiety that drives him to, at all times, ensure his own safety and health (I elaborate on this more in this meta); The show version the way i remember it does not show this a lot. He doesn’t have the leeching scene and if he has scenes about being obsessed with health they werent prominent enough for me to remember (maybe the Jaime scene included some book dialogue?). He is serious, but he does not act emotionless to hide his feelings (Though the show scene where he says he doesn’t drink was a nice touch; it is not completely congruent with book canon, but brings across the same idea that he wants to be in control of a situation and his feelings).

For a bigger example: Show!Roose’s characterization in the Red Wedding episode shows him acting very confident and in a great mood, bantering with Cat, and staying in the room the entire time while wearing chainmail; while in the books he barely eats and doesn’t talk to Cat, is shown exchanging threatening glances with Walder, and leaves early to ensure his own safety only to return fully decked out in armor to give Robb the final blow. In the books, imo, you can see that he is stressed out by the situation; because while he planned it very thoroughly with Lothar Frey, it is still a great risk for such a cautious man to take, and he needs to trust that Walder doesn’t backstab him.

Bolton had made a toast to Lord Walder's grandsons when the wedding feast began, pointedly mentioning that Walder and Walder were in the care of his bastard son. From the way the old man had squinted at him, his mouth sucking at the air, Catelyn knew he had heard the unspoken threat.

They are not necessarily great story-changing differences, but to me still paint a different picture of his character. People always say “oh a character doesnt need to look exactly like the descriptions as long as the actor works for the story, oh you dont need to adapt every little character detail as long as the story is intact”, but do this too much and somewhere along the way you lose what makes the character themselves. The small details and human traits are what makes me love a character, so if those are missing i end up not seeing them as a an adaptation of the same guy, even if the plot is similar. I do think there are scenes in the show where you can see the scriptwriter read the books and put in some of the book characterization, but the general direction of the character is still different.

I also loathe the s2 change that had Arya as Tywin’s cupbearer; it removes one (/two) of Roose’ best chapters and also the one that establishes a lot of his character traits and Red Wedding foreshadowing. The Tywin-Arya scenes are everything wrong with the show; changing scenes arbitrarily to prop up fan-favourite characters (later culminating in stuff the s7 wight hunt), bad “feminism” (like Arya saying “most girls are idiots”), having characters act OOC to be more “likable” or “sympathetic” (like that weird “fatherly” way Tywin acts towards Arya), ignoring how people in that time period and universe act (as if a man like Tywin would even glance at a servant), etc etc... here is a great post on that scene by @turtle-paced.

As far as the post-s3 scenes go I’m not a fan (though i did not rewatch those a lot, so feel free to remind me if i forgot something). i don’t like that they made Ramsay the main character of the plot, with Roose merely as a supporting role side character; the books give Roose a great arc starting in aDwD that imo is needed as a continuation of the Red Wedding plot. They pretty much cut out the Winterfell aDwD story (one of my fave storylines in asoiaf) entirely and replaced it with forgettable scenes. Replacing Jeyne with Sansa not only makes no sense for Littlefinger but also for Roose, since that makes him antagonize the Iron Throne. His death scene was so bad that it makes me hopeful he will have a bigger story in the books, and that they just culled him because they wanted to thin out plots like they did with Mance, Barristan, and Stannis.

Though in the end, while i don’t like the show’s writing and visual direction, i do still thank them for making the Boltons such prominent characters; They seem to have gained a lot of fans through the show, and are regarded as very important characters (i even see them in some “great houses” gifsets). They are of course also important in the books, but not as prominent/central as for example Ramsay was in s6. So even if they are adapted badly (Show Ramsay is especially bad), if they make people interested in their book counterparts, it’s still some sort of a win in my book.

(Also, thank you so much!! Glad you enjoy my art ❤️❤️)

#asks #asoiaf #roose bolton #meta #game of thrones #Anonymous #not art #long post

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presidentrhodes · 5 years

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How about some IronHusbands? Tony keeps telling the avengers how awesome his husband is but they don't believe he exists because it has been months and they still haven't met him yet and then finally, Rhodey comes home :)

See, I was going to write a cute 700-word fic for this, but your prompt was too good and this turned into a 5K monster. I’m sorry. :(

Title: The Other Mr Stark: Pilot, Scientist and Iron Man’s Mysterious Paramour

Rating: PG

Pairing: Tony Stark/James Rhodes

Summary: Clint leans over to Tony and whispers. “For the record, I know you’re lying. You’re describing the perfect man and he doesn’t exist. You might as well say you’re dating Superman because at least Christopher Reeve was a looker.“

This ignores the chronology and canon from Iron Man 2. It’s not yet beta-ed so, I apologise for all mistakes!

***

“Don’t be ridiculous, Stark,” Clint says from the lounge floor, where he sits cross-legged, trying to build a house of cards on the table. Natasha’s lying on the sofa next to him, her feet on Steve’s lap as he massages them. Bruce sits in an armchair opposite them, his attention fixed on the Starkpad in his hands. Thor stands by the floor-to-ceiling window behind Bruce, watching the cars driving along Park Avenue 80 floors down. “You’re making shit up."

It’s team-bonding night: Steve came up with the idea a month after the Avengers stopped an alien invasion and moved into the spacious penthouse atop Stark Tower. New York began the long, arduous process of rebuilding; tall construction cranes wedged between damaged skyscrapers carried out repair work and men in reflective vests and bright yellow helmets became a common sight all over the city.

Tony’s at the bar mixing drinks for the team, even though he hasn’t touched alcohol in over a decade. His cocktails, he claims, are still kickass. "Why would I lie to you, Barton? I am going to get nothing out of it."

They have been going back and forth for an hour since Tony let it slip that contrary to what the New York Post says every week, he’s happily married. His husband’s a decorated Air Force Colonel and a rocket scientist by training and, Tony insists, he once fought a homophobe bare-chested outside MIT in the freezing Northeast winter, for insulting Tony.

"It was my birthday. Honeybear had no time for assholes,” Tony says, shaking the martini he’s making for Natasha. “The fight was brutal, and this guy was built like a horse. I thought Platypus wouldn’t last a minute but I was wrong. Dead wrong.” Tony gesticulates at appropriate moments in his recounting of the tale and embellishes it with just the right amount of spice to impress upon the demi-gods, assassins and supersoldiers in his audience that his husband is a goddamn hero.

Tony’s husband had apparently exchanged punches with the bigot that left both men bleeding profusely from their noses. “Then Honeybear uppercuts him out of nowhere and it’s a total KO,” Tony says, moving on to make Steve’s drink—a mojito; how typical of Captain Boyscout McSexypants. “I thought I was watching Ali versus Foreman on replay. It was beautiful.”

Bruce snorts at the comparison without glancing up from the tablet.

Clint’s face contorts and he knits his brows in frustration as the sparse details from Tony fail to add up in his mind. The stacked cards look dangerously close to toppling over. “You want us to believe in this ‘mysterious’ paramour, and all you’re giving out are a bunch of ridiculous nicknames and made-up stories with no evidence and no pictures. Sounds completely legitimate.”

“Hey, why did I never come across this husband of yours when I was your PA?” Natasha chips in, the corner of her mouth quirks up. Steve grins at the way Tony’s face turns red and his nostrils flair—from what he has learned, courtesy of Shield and Ms Potts, Tony’s pride hasn’t recovered from being thoroughly fooled by the Black Widow two summers ago.

Tony tosses a lime at Natasha. She swats it away with an expert backhand, and the lime crashes into Clint’s deck of cards. The archer snarls a string of expletives, forcing out Steve’s stern 'Captain America is disappointed in you, son’ look. Tony flashes a lopsided smile from the bar. “Well, Ms Rushman, I don’t discuss all aspects of my life with personal assistants. Even ones as attractive as you.”

“Call me Rushman one more time and—"

Thor finally turns to join the conversation and butts in before Natasha delivers the rest of her threat. "Your husband must be a good, honourable man. I’m sure he’s worthy of his place in Valhalla." The response draws surprised looks around the room. Even Tony double-takes at first, his eyes wide and bug-like as if he can’t believe what his ears are picking up. He recovers fast and rubs his hands together in glee. "See? The god agrees with me. It’s settled, I win.”

The conversation turns to Fury and Shield—specifically, determining if Phil Coulson is a human mimicking an AI or an artificial intelligence pretending to be a 39-year-old homo sapiens sapiens. Tony brings over the drinks and sinks to the floor next to Clint. The archer leans over and whispers. “For the record, I know you’re lying. You’re describing the perfect man and he doesn’t exist. You might as well say you’re married to Superman because at least Christopher Reeve was a looker."

Tony rolls his eyes. "You’ll eat your words soon enough, birdbrain."

***

‘Soon enough’ turns out to be a month later when the topic of Tony’s mystery husband makes an unannounced appearance in the middle of a mission. Taking on a small army of unidentified robots possessing a hive brain, near a country fair, leaves Steve, Natasha and Tony in charge of shepherding a group of children away from the direct line of fire. Thor and Hulk keep the main fighting focused on them while Clint takes out the spare droids, one by one, from his spot on a nearby roof.

Natasha leads them past smouldering scraps of metal and burning tarp, towards the carousel where the children huddle together, their faces white as sheets. Behind her, Steve’s limping along. He’s bleeding into his suit after taking several hits earlier from the droids and their shoulder-mounted plasma cannons. Tony provides aerial support, keeping the stray robots away from the kids.

"You know,” he begins on the team’s shared comms channel, watching Natasha approach the terrified children with an unnatural, almost enviable, ease, like she has spent a lifetime perfecting the art of looking after them. “Platypus is really good with kids too. His sister sometimes leaves her daughter with us when she’s travelling, and he’s a natural with her. I always thought kids are fussy about everything.” Clint groans. Tony ignores him and continues, letting JARVIS take control of the armour to round up and disable the remaining droids.

“Jeannie always says Lila is a fussy baby at home. She has made a career out of screaming when things don’t go her way. When she stays with us, she turns into an angel because of Platypus.” No one responds. Tony’s attention shifts to how pale Steve looks in his viewfinder. He watches the Captain stagger behind Natasha and asks JARVIS to scan his teammate to take stock of his injuries; Tony knows once the mission is over, Steve will downplay his condition. He’ll brush it off as “just a couple of knocks, nothing too serious,” and bury himself in paperwork in his office to avoid medical attention. The man hates hospitals. Tony can’t blame Steve—he detests them, too.

“My scans detect Captain Rogers has sustained three broken ribs and severe lacerations,” JARVIS drawls in his thick, mechanical voice. “Readings indicate his supersoldier abilities have already contained the bleeding, and the ribs should heal on their own by the week’s end.”

“Thanks, J.” Tony lands on the ground next to Steve. They watch Natasha usher the children towards the perimeter that Shield agents, who finally arrived at the scene, have set up. Worried parents, some of them openly sobbing, stand behind the barricades, waiting to be reunited with their children. “Captain. You’re hurt,” Tony informs Steve as a matter of fact.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Steve says, deadpan, and lets out a pained breath.

The faceplate lifts. Tony gives a half-smile at Steve. “Let me carry you back to the infirmary. You need medical attention and my husband is a big fan. He’ll lose his mind when I tell him I carried Captain America bridal style back to base.” Fortunately for Tony, whatever objection Steve’s about to raise dies on his lips as exhaustion wins him over. He collapses face-first on the muddy field, and Tony’s kneeling by his side in a flash, checking for a pulse. He sags inside the suit in relief when he finds one, and JARVIS helpfully diagnoses “severe fatigue” for the Captain. The AI chooses that precise moment to reveal to Tony that Steve Rogers hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in three months.

“Avenger down,” Tony tells the team. A chorus of concerned voices floods the comms channel. “The Captain’s had a long day. I’m taking him back to medical, you guys handle cleanup and Coulson. I am busy in the evening, so, don’t call me or page me unless the world is on fire and one of you is actually dying."

No one speaks for a few moments. Clint cuts through the static in a flat, disinterested tone. "What’s keeping you busy, Stark? Sexy date in the Bahamas with your imaginary husband?"

"If you have to know, birdbrain, it’s our anniversary and I’m going to the base to see him.”

Clint chortles.

“You still won’t tell us what base he’s stationed at. Let me guess, is it Area 51? Is your imaginary husband an alien, Stark? Holy shit, you’re married to Superman."

The words vex Tony. "Do you ever shut up, Barton?” He doesn’t wait for a reply and turns off his comms. Tony carries Steve in his arms and flies back to the Tower.

***

A few weeks later, after pulling another all-nighter in the lab, Tony walks in on Steve, Natasha and Bruce gathered in the kitchen for breakfast. Clint’s on vacation. Tony counts that as a blessing. He knows despite Clint’s cynicism, at some point, the archer started tailing Tony’s every move, inside and outside the Tower, to find out more about Platypus. Working as an assassin over the years, Clint honed his ability to stay under the radar, but all of that training didn’t stand a chance against JARVIS and his all-sensing presence.

“Barton’s been following me,” Tony says, pouring himself a coffee. He curses—someone, and he knows it’s Thor, keeps leaving coffee grounds inside the pot. That barbarian. “He thought he was being clever by using the vents, but nothing gets past JARVIS.”

Bruce narrows sleep-heavy eyes at Tony: “I thought J doesn’t surveil us.” The words come out as nothing more than a low, gruff mumble. Stifling a yawn, Bruce slouches forward and rests his face on the granite countertop. His eyes droop; for all of his unparalleled work in anti-electron collision theory, Bruce Banner remains incapable of being a morning person.

“He doesn’t when you’re in your private quarters. The vents are public areas, and standard building security protocols apply.” Tony strains his coffee. He makes a mental note to speak to Thor—the Asgardian proved himself to be a fast learner of Earthly etiquettes. He’s come a long way from smashing coffee mugs to ordering customised drinks at Starbucks without pissing off the baristas. Even Captain America sometimes gets the stink eye when he asks for soy milk instead of dairy. Tony suspects baristas around the city are too enamoured by Thor’s godly presence to ever crib about his order.

“Why would Clint stalk you through the vents?” Steve asks. Tony finds the puzzled look on Steve’s face endearing. “50% of his DNA is bird. He’s just following his instincts,” he says. Tony bites back a laugh at Steve’s hardened expression; he appears genuinely distressed by the idea that one of his human teammates may not be 100% human.

Tony admires the way the Captain works hard to adjust to his new life in the 21st century—waking up to an alien invasion led by a horned Norse god proved to be a hell of a way to get over the initial culture shock. And, while Steve made a quick study of smart kitchen appliances and most of the Internet, genetic modifications and other advances in technology set off regular alarm bells in his head. Noticing the way Steve’s lips curl downward, Natasha offers a quick clarification: “Tony’s being an idiot. Clint’s not actually part bird, even if he is as obtuse as one."

"Well, birdbrain has to get more creative than vents to get the jump on JARVIS,” Tony says, squeezing between Steve and Natasha. They hear Bruce’s gentle snores—he really hates mornings—and Tony whispers. “Honeybear is the only one who has gotten past J.”

On cue, JARVIS chimes in softly: “That is correct. His method was delightfully inventive, one that has enhanced my detection abilities tenfolds.”

Without being prompted, Tony volunteers the information to his teammates in a hushed tone: “We had a bet. Each of us picked a random day to break into Stark Industries. The goal was to get into my office without alerting J."

Steve and Natasha listen, their expressions dull, as Tony explains in unnecessary details how his husband got the jump on artificial intelligence—Natasha makes mental notes to make her own attempt later if only to test her own skills against an all-seeing machine.

"Honeybear set off a small and easily contained fire in our backyard while I was sleeping. Because J’s primary protocol is to protect me, he had to assess its threat level. But, it was in a contained environment; the variables were known, and the calculation should’ve been easy, except his protocol says he cannot dismiss the threat until it is eliminated,” Tony says, watching Steve’s eyes widen. The Captain, ever the cynic, is probably working out a hundred different world-ending scenarios about a rogue AI. He and J aren’t so different in their personalities, Tony thinks.

“JARVIS spent most of his processing power keeping an eye on me. His second protocol says he must at all times protect the Stark Secure Server, my private server. And, no, Natasha, I know that look. It’s not at Stark Industries, I know you’ve looked, and I won’t tell you where it is so that Shield can go snooping.” Natasha glowers at him, her cheeks flushed at being caught red-handed. “That left J with very little juice to handle everything else for all Stark Industries offices around the world. He didn’t even notice Honeybear walk onto the premises or enter my office.”

Tony pauses to let his teammates absorb and appreciate his husband’s ingenuity: Steve looks impressed, Natasha scowls at Tony. Bruce, with his eyes still closed and head down, breaks the silence. “I’ve seen J’s documentation. You wrote him to back himself up on local servers precisely to avoid this situation. You said your roommate at MIT gave you the idea. Plus, you use an insane amount of RAM, I’ve seen your set up.”

Tony claps.

“Finally. Someone who sees the obvious error in this story. And yet, somehow, Honeybear got into my office undetected. Either he’s the superspy of the millennium—sorry, Widow—or someone is lying.” Tony glances at the ceiling. “What? You like him better or something?” JARVIS doesn’t respond. Instead, music flits in from the overhead speakers: Tell me lies. Tell me sweet little lies (Tell me lies, tell me, tell me lies). Oh, no, no you can’t disguise.

“Smartass.”

***

On Christmas Eve, Tony arrives at the common floor and overhears the team in deep conversation. His curiosity plants him in a corner outside the lounge, within hearing distance, but strategically hidden from the occupants inside. He picks up on Natasha speaking with an underlying worry in her tone. “That’s not the point, Clint. When I assessed him, he was dying. Very painfully, if I may add. He’s proven himself to be a team player and he’s a vital member of this team—"

Clint cuts her off. "He’s delusional, Nat. He’s making up an entire person and coming up with these larger than life stories. It was funny the first time, but it’s clear he believes in the stuff he says. If he’s losing it, we need to know because we’re a team. We have got to have each other’s backs at all times.”

Steve chimes in: “His life is his own. We should respect his privacy, Clint. I’m sure when he’s ready, he’ll introduce us to his husband. Don’t force it on him.” Tony’s built-in cynicism would have once made fun of the unadulterated optimism behind Steve’s words. But, hearing the Captain speak in his, and Platypus’, defence like that makes Tony want to immediately buy the Brooklyn apartment he knows Steve’s eyeing and give him the keys in a gift-wrapped box with a bow.

Captain America’s assurances fail to convince Clint or soothe his exasperation. “Your optimism is misplaced, Cap. There is no husband, no boyfriend. Nothing! Nat and I have looked everywhere and there’s not a trace of Stark ever getting hitched, let alone to another military man. I get it, don't ask, don't tell when that was still the law, right? What about now? There has to be some kind of a legal record, somewhere, if Stark's really married.”

“Maybe it’s a manifestation of his trauma,” Bruce supplies. “He’s well overdue a psych evaluation. He hasn’t talked to anyone since the invasion. We should cut him some slack.”

Clint doubles down. “We need to know if he’s hallucinating before someone tries to take over the world again. It’s one thing if he’s making it up for street cred, but if he genuinely believes in it…"

"He’s creating another armour,” Natasha says. Tony feels vindicated by the admission—he knows she pokes around his lab whenever Stark Industries business calls him away to the other coast. Her clandestine efforts fail to outsmart J’s all-sensing presence, but confronting the Black Widow about it, and risking dismemberment, ranks low on Tony’s list of priorities. To have her admit it in front of their teammates takes a small weight off his chest. “I’ve seen the blueprint. This is a leaner, tougher armour with some serious firepower.”

“Yeah. Fury commissioned it,” Steve says. Someone—Bruce—curses out loud at the revelation. Tony bites his lips and presses a hand over his mouth to stop himself cackling. Fools, those god-damn irredeemable fools, Tony thinks. Steve continues. “He wants to recruit that Air Force Colonel he always raves about.”

“James Rhodes.” Clint jumps in. “See, now he is an impressive man. I’ve read his files and I can see why Fury’s in love with him. Hell, I’m in love with him, too.” Tony’s close to tears from holding back his laughter at the archer’s enthusiastic tone; he doesn’t want to risk giving away his location and miss the rest of the conversation about the new recruit. “So, Stark’s agreed to make a suit for the Colonel. That's…surprising, seeing how possessive he is of his tech. He tased me last month when I tried to get a good look under the hood.”

“Maybe, Fury made him an offer he can’t refuse.”

“Does Stark know?” Natasha asks. “About Fury’s plans to recruit the Colonel? I heard Nick mentored him in college.”

“Shit,” Clint shouts. Tony regrets the lack of visual cues to go with the congregation inside and makes his own: Clint jumps on the sofa without warning next to Bruce, who turns a deep shade of green. While Steve and Natasha work to calm Bruce down, Clint squats on top of the backrest, like a bird perched on its nest among sky-high branches. Tony laughs at the imagery in silence.

“Rhodes went to MIT too, didn’t he? He studied aeronautics and astronautics—basically, rocket science. And, he’s Stark’s age. It’s not impossible they crossed paths there. Do you think Stark is holding onto some creepy university crush or did he make up his fake husband based on the Colonel?"

"He really needs that psych eval."

That’s when Tony decides he’s heard enough. He can barely keep himself together and in his excitement, he knocks into a solid, immovable mass. "Fuck,” Tony mutters and looks up into Thor’s dark blue eyes. Maybe the city baristas had a point, Tony thinks, and it’s futile to fight the Asgardian charm that oozes from every pore on Thor’s body.

Tony still pinches himself from time to time and wonders how a god fell out of legends, waltzed into his life and took up residence in his penthouse. After butting heads over Thor’s murderous brother Loki, they forged a friendship based on mutual respect—another thing which puzzles Tony because Thor’s a deity and he’s just a guy. Thor protested once when Tony blurted it out. “You’re not just a 'guy’.”

Thor’s quieter and more reserved than his broad GQ-model-like physique suggests; he prefers to observe instead of participating in the team’s special brand of eccentricity. Everyone on the team agrees that Thor is immeasurably perceptive.

“Hello, Pointbreak,” Tony says, clasping his shoulder. “What are you doing out here? You’re missing all the fun inside. They’re talking about having me committed because they don’t believe Platypus is real. They think I’m hallucinating.”

Thor’s face twists into a frown, a contrast to Tony’s playful grin. “Then they are silly,” he says. “I have seen how fondly you speak of him, Tony. You love your husband."

"More than I can put into words, buddy.” Tony sighs as his smile falters, his arms crossing over his chest. “Platypus is the bedrock of my life. Got me through some really bad times. After everything he has seen me say or do, he’s still here, and I wonder what I did to deserve him. You know? It’s surreal. Which god answered my prayers that I got so lucky?”

Thor steps forward until he’s up in Tony’s face, mere inches separating them. That man may possess a delightful and exuberant personality. But he has no concept of personal space, which Tony files under 'Usual Asgardian Oddities’, along with Thor’s habit of speaking to inanimate objects when he thinks no one is looking. Large hands rest his bony shoulders in a hard grip, and Tony thinks Thor is about to impart some godly wisdom. Interruption, if only to point out the awkwardness of their proximity, may come across as rude. "Listen here, Tony Stark. I have lived and watched over your realm for a thousand years. I’ve seen civilisations rise and fall, kingdoms destroyed by greed, great men brought down by hubris. But, you, my friend, you are among the best of them. Midgard should be proud to call you her son. Never ever doubt your worthiness.” Thor beams.

Tony tries to think up a response to that, but his mouth snaps shut. How does one top a speech where an actual god calls you worthy? In the end, Tony nods and stays still until Thor lets him go. “I will consider it a great honour the day you choose to let us meet the man who has stolen your heart. For one who’s deserving of your love, I also consider him worthy.”

On his way out, Tony texts his husband: You won’t believe it but I think Thor just blessed our marriage.

The reply comes immediately: Holy shit. I feel blessed already. Merry Christmas and see you soon xx.

***

Fury calls the team for an urgent meeting after New Year’s Day. His memo reads like every other missive he sends, curt and to the point: Meeting at 10 @ HQ. Don’t be late.

They take Tony’s private jet to DC because the Quinjet was out of commission, undergoing repairs after their latest mission—a villain holding Manhattan’s power grids hostage—damaged the engines. Onboard, they huddle in front of the flatscreen watching CNN analyse Justin Hammer’s trial. Tony gives them a breakdown of his business rival—how Justin tried to sabotage the Stark Expo by presenting cheap knockoffs of the Iron Man armour that blew up the entire venue. The anchor reads out charges levelled against Hammer: money laundering, racketeering, fraud, public endangerment, copyright infringement. And a dozen lawsuits from Stark Industries and affected civilians.

“Ouch,” Clint says, reclining in his seat. “That’s a bit excessive, even for making cheap knockoffs of your suit and blowing them up at your expo, Stark.”

“Trust me, birdbrain, we take corporate espionage very seriously,” Tony replies. A live feed shows Hammer arriving at the courthouse in orange overalls, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair in disarray. The press swarms around him, shoving microphones and cameras in his face. Hammer tries to push his way through the crowd. “Oh, Justin. You know, if he had even an ounce of charm in his bones he could’ve gotten the charges reduced.”

“You can’t charm your way through everything, Tony,” Bruce points out.

Tony smiles. “Not everyone can, no. My husband on the other hand—” The shift in the atmosphere is palpable. Clint tunes out of the conversation to stare out the window. Bruce shifts uncomfortably in his seat, Natasha presses her lips together in a frown, and Steve surveys the lines on his palms. Only Thor shows interest, so, Tony continues. “Few years ago, I dared him to charm a store manager at Macy’s. They had this perfume set from their exclusive collection. I wanted to see if Platypus could convince her to give him a set for free. You should’ve seen him, Thor. He knew all the right things to say, the right moments to smile, and I think if he had asked, she’d have given him the keys to the store. We gave it back later because it would’ve come out of her paycheck, otherwise. Platypus is a real charmer. You’ll love him.”

Thor’s laughs drown out Clint’s audible scoff. “I look forward to meeting him.”

“We should buckle up, we’re about to land,” Steve says, pointing to the seat belt sign.

***

Fury waits for them in a conference room on the top floor of the Triskelion. One by one, the Avengers fill in, with Tony being the last to enter. He takes the seat closest to the door.

“I’ll keep this short,” Fury says, without preamble. It’s one of the few things Tony admires about the director—he loathes wasting time as much as Tony. “The Avengers Initiative was started to be Earth’s first and last line of defence against extraterrestrial threats. We’ve shown the world why we need to exist and your heroic efforts have won us more goodwill from the public than we have anticipated. My bosses have instructed me to expand this team. You will meet the new recruits over the course of the year. They will train with you and Stark has agreed to house them at the Tower.”

Clint perks up. “Colonel Hottie said yes?"

Natasha kicks him under the table.

"What? He’s perfect. He’s smart, brave, and real. No offence, Stark.” Tony shoots him a dirty look. Clint turns to Steve. “Hey Cap, what’s your opinion on team romances? Yay or nay?"

"Clint,” Steve gives him his best 'Son, stop disappointing Captain America’ look. “This is neither the time nor the place.” The archer slumps in his chair and says loudly, “Look, I just want to know how many protocols I’ll be breaking to ask Colonel Rhodes out on a date."

Before Steve or Fury can answer, a new voice replies. "The answer would be none, Mr Barton. As flattering as your proposition sounds, I am unfortunately off the market.” All seven pairs of eyes turn to the doorway—James Rhodes leans against the doorframe in a grey polo shirt, a black bomber jacket and a pair of tight-fitting black jeans. Clint swallows and stammers. Natasha kicks him again.

“Colonel Rhodes,” Fury says and motions him to come forward. “Meet the team."

Rhodes takes stock of the room, his eyes resting a millisecond longer on Tony, and says, "Hey. Call me Jim."

Steve’s the first to rise as he moves in to shake Rhodes’ hand. "Good to meet you, Colonel. We’ve heard a lot about you from Fury, and we’re looking forward to having you on the team.” Bruce and Natasha go next: They exchange quick, courteous 'hello’s before Clint almost trips over himself to greet Rhodes. He tries to play it cool but stutters at the last moment, and the words—"I’ve read your file, Colonel, where have you been all my life?“—come out all jumbled, lacking the charm and finesse he had practised ever since Steve let it slip that Fury was trying to recruit Rhodes. On his turn, Thor flashes the Colonel a knowing smirk, and despite never reading any of Rhodes’ files, he says, "Good to finally meet you, Jim. I’ve heard a lot about your adventures."

Finally, Rhodes turns to Tony, who has been hanging back with his hands jammed in his front pockets and a closed-off expression on his face. "You look like the cat peed in your cereal today."

"It’s your fucking cat,” Tony grumbles. He doesn’t move away as Rhodes treads over and steals a peck on the lips. The rest of the team stare in stunned silence; except Fury, who rolls his eye, and Thor, whose indulgent smile suggests he feels pretty damn good about himself for uncovering some hidden knowledge before everyone else. Steve notices the identical wedding bands on Tony and Rhodes’ fingers first, and it finally clicks. “You’re married to Tony?"

"I am afraid the secret’s out, Captain. I am the mystery husband you’ve been hearing about and I assure you, I’m very real.” Rhodes slings a hand over Tony’s shoulder, and Tony melts into the touch, leaning on him for support, with a hand around Rhodes’ waist. No one speaks—no one fully overcomes the shock around the revelation, and though Steve looks like he’s working out the right words to say in his head, he stays quiet. At some point, Thor starts recording the confusion in the room as it unfolds—for a Space Viking who gives off strong Luddite vibes, he turns out to be exceptionally adept at using Earth tech. Tony isn’t surprised that Thor not only knows how to use a smartphone camera but he also developed a keen sense of when to use it—Barton looking like a flustered deer caught in headlights should be memorialised in every medium.

“I’ve been told the secrecy around my existence has become a matter of concern among the team,” Rhodes says, fixing his gaze on Clint. The archer shrinks in his seat. He avoids looking at Tony. Or Rhodes. “I’m happy to answer questions, perhaps over dinner, and provide clarifications on whatever my husband has told you about me. He likes to exaggerate, as I’m sure you know. But if you don’t mind, I’d like some privacy with Tones right now. We haven’t seen each other in a year and this meeting was not my idea of a reunion. It’s lacking in some quality action if you know what I mean.” He leaves very little to the imagination. Steve’s scandalised; jaws clenched and his eyes dart from Tony to Rhodes and back to Tony. Thor continues recording as he holds the smartphone in front of the Captain’s face until Steve tries to swat it away, and misses. Only Bruce, Tony notices, shows remorse for doubting his accounts and questioning his sanity.

With a final nod at the team, Rhodes walks out. “Coming?” He asks from the doorway. “I’ll catch up,” Tony says and lingers long enough for Fury to dismiss the team and leave. Clint’s sour expression—his nose crinkles as if he smelled something horrible—clashes with the way Tony’s eyes sparkle and his grin stretches ear to ear. “Hey birdbrain, how does it feel to be a clown? For what it’s worth, you never had a shot with him because I sealed the deal in '87. You were still working the circus. Yeah, that’s right, I read your files too—even the 'redacted’ ones.” Tony trots out of the room as Clint flips him off, with a big, smug grin plastered over his face. Some things are worth the wait—Rhodey has always been worth it.

–FIN–

#james rhodes #tony stark #ironhusbands #tonyrhodey #rhodeytony #avengers #mcu #fics #asks #rhea writes #theherothechampiontheinquisitor

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cinanamon · 7 years

Text

don't leave me | 01 — jjk|kth

pairing | taehyung x reader x jungkook

genre | angst, fluff, college!au, love triangle!au

word count | 3.1K

synopsis | Your best friend, Taehyung, has secretly loved you for years, but a new love interest named Jungkook makes himself apparent in your life.

warning | none

You laughed melodically as you raced Taehyung down the steps, playfully pushing him to the side as you passed.

“Hey!” He cried, but his pout was replaced with a triumphant smirk when he reached the car first. He stuck out his tongue at you as he made his way to the driver’s seat. “Do you have the keys?”

You sighed but tossed the keys over the hood of the car, Taehyung easily catching them and unlocking the vehicle. He opened his door and chuckled at your sour expression when you settled in beside him.

“Come on,” He patted your arm and gave you a meaningful look. “you get to drive it most of the time since I usually let you win. Let me drive this beauty every once in awhile!”

“Let me win?” You scoffed and crossed your arms. “Excuse you, but I beat you fair and square! And it’s my car, anyways.”

Taehyung smiled and rolled his eyes as he revved up the engine. “I have longer legs than you; believe me, I could outrun you in seconds flat.” At your indignant look, he grinned and continued. “Also, I didn’t get a car because you got one that I could drive instead.”

You leaned back in your seat as Taehyung put the car in drive. “That doesn’t mean you have the right to use my car whenever you want! And you just waste your money; just admit you can’t afford one.”

Taehyung shrugged and made a left. “Fair point, but I’d rather not.” At that you laughed, and the two of you fell into comfortable silence.

Being best friends with Taehyung for a multitude of years was honestly the best thing that ever happened to you. You never would have thought the confidently eccentric individual you met in high school would become so important to you. You didn’t think you’ve ever trusted or enjoyed someone’s presence as much as you did Taehyung’s. Your friendship with him had never wavered and was always comfortable- it felt so natural.

So of course it was only natural that you went to the same college together. The both of you made sure it would work out and were always seen around campus together; where one was, the other was close behind. You had no problem with it; you had other friends, but the only person you really needed was Taehyung.

“We’re here,” Tae said when he parked at the main building’s parking lot. He checked his watch, his other hand poised on the door handle. “with… six minutes to spare.”

You shook your head in amusement as you both exited the car and made your way down the sidewalk. You repositioned your bookbag over your shoulder as you fell into step beside your best friend.

“So after class I’ll take you to work and then when you get off, do you want to head to the movies or something?” Taehyung asked you, turning his upper body to face you questioningly.

You raised a brow. “Don’t you have a lot of homework?”

He ran his hand through his light brown hair disinterestedly, the action causing the sun to pick up the gold streaks just right. “A couple essays, yeah. I doubt Mrs. Choi will assign another script, but if she does, I’ll just blow it off like the others.” He focused his stare on you again and tilted his head. “You in or no?”

You pursed your lips. “I want to, but I have a painting due soon, and I’m still not finished…” Taehyung gave you a pointed look and you sighed in defeat, but a small smile pulled at the corners of your lips.”Fine, I’ll hang out with you, you loser. But I just want to watch a movie at your place.”

He nodded, satisfied. “That can be arranged.”

“Great. Now I’m going to get to class because you wasted five minutes of my time.” You smirked playfully.

Taehyung placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “How rude. And to think I gave you a ride.”

You snorted and shook your head, turning on your heel. “In my car, don’t forget. See you after class, Tae!”

“Bye, (Y/n)!” He called after you as you hurried to the art building. You ran up the two flights of stairs and skidded in front of your classroom door. You peeked in the glass a second before opening the door.

Right as you did so, the late bell went off. Mr. Han looked at you over the rim of his glasses in warning before returning to writing his lesson plan on the board. You flashed an apologetic smile and made your way to the second raised row of seats. You sat down and got our your class materials; a pen, a couple pencils and erasers, and your huge notebook.

Once you opened your notebook to the next clean page, Mr. Han began to speak. You zeroed in on his words and clicked your pen, positioning it over your paper and beginning to write.

By the time class ended, you had ink all over your hand and your notebook had a few more pages of notes and sketches. You put away all your belongings and skipped down the steps. As you stepped outside, you inhaled the fresh air and spotted Taehyung already parked in front of your art hall. You smiled and made your way over towards him, sliding into the passenger seat with ease.

Taehyung lowered the radio and looked over at you, taking in your colorful hand and quick, messy bun. “I take it class went well?”

You nodded and slipped your bag down by your feet. “Yeah, he went over surrealism again and had us sketch out a few ideas. He was aiming to give us an essay on Salvador Dali, but class ended before he got on the last subject, so he didn’t assign it today.”

Taehyung nodded and checked the rearview mirror as he pulled out of his parking spot. “Well that’s good. I forget you actually like class.”

You smiled lightly. “I’m sorry you don’t like to learn,” You flicked his forehead, causing him to playfully glare at you before looking at the road again. “But speaking of which, how was Drama? You like that class and it’s the only one you had today.”

He paused at a red light and leaned back in his chair, angling his head towards you. “Good news is that she didn’t assign anything else, but it’s still pretty cool. We’ve been working on the props for the big end of the year production.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and placed your chin on your hand. “Oh yeah, I can’t wait to see that. Has she done auditions yet?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. She’s still going over what the play’s about and trying to prepare us for the acting involved for the auditions.”

“Well that’s nice,” you offered, facing the front window again. “By the way, the light’s green.”

Taehyung immediately snapped up and placed his hands on the wheel, his foot pressing on the gas and causing the car to accelerate a little more than necessary. You chucked under your breath but relaxed back on the leather of your chair.

It wasn’t long before Taehyung pulled up by your workplace. You turned around in your seat and grabbed the bag behind your seat. You opened your door and looked back at your best friend. “Thanks, Tae. I’ll see you at Eight.” He waved as you closed the door and made your way into the restaurant.

You bypassed the customers seated and your fellow workers getting ready for the dinner rush hour. You stepped into the back room and went to the female lockers. You pulled off your T-shirt and threw on your red collared blouse that was assigned for work. You left on your jeans and redid your bun before heading back out into the main room restaurant.

You walked behind the hostess stand and plastered on a fake smile, mentally preparing yourself for the next three hours. You waited for some people to come in, so they could sit at your section, and you could begin working. It took a couple minutes before a group of four college girls walked in.

“Hi,” You chirped. “how many?”

The front girl shot a quick smile. “Four, please.”

“Right this way,” you said, grabbing the required number of menus and silverware bundles. You briskly strode to an empty booth and set down the supplies, stepping back to let them in before standing in front of their table. You pulled a little notepad from your belt.

“I’m (Y/n), and I’ll be your server for today. What would you like to drink?” You asked, drawing out your pen and bouncing it on your paper.

“Two waters and one sprite, please.” The first girl responded, the girls on either side of her nodding in agreement.

You wrote it down and turned to the last one. “And for you?”

“Dr. Pepper. Thanks.” You nodded and twirled on your heel to head to the kitchens. You made your way to the beverage machine and began making the requested drinks.

“(Y/n)!” You jumped slightly and almost spilled the drink, yanking your hand back to save it. You whipped your head around and visibly relaxed when you saw Jimin’s sheepish smile.

Jimin also went to the same college as you and Taehyung. He was one of your close friends since high school, and he’d known Taehyung since they were kids. You didn’t know that the three of you went to the same college until you turned up to work and saw Jimin already working there.

“Hey, Minnie! How are you?” You smiled genuinely at him and continued pouring the drinks.

He dropped off the stack of plates by the sink and leaned against the counter. “Nothing much, really. School; dance practice. What about you?”

You laughed lightly and started to place the cups on a platter. “Art class; hanging out with Tae. Not much at all, just like you.”

He nodded and pushed away from the counter when he saw you pick up your tray. “Well I’ll let you get back to work. I better as well.” He chuckled and waved before setting off into the busy restaurant. You sighed to yourself before making your way back into the chattering of the customers.

Two and half hours and a few rude customers later, you were ready to snap. You had made yourself inconspicuous behind the hostess stand and were hoping to wait out your shift there, but, just your luck, your co-worker had to sit someone when another person walked through the door.

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and tried to seem nice. When you opened your eyes, you almost choked on your words. This customer was attractive.

He had tousled dark hair that framed his gleaming eyes. His skin glowed and his face structure was somewhere in between soft and sharp, making him that much more handsome. You glanced down and noted how his white T-shirt and tight jeans accentuated his lean body as well.

You knew your best friend was attractive too -very much so- but this guy could practically match Taehyung on that level. You had to force your mind to function when you noticed the customer looking at you expectantly, slight hesitation in his eyes.

“Uh, just one?” You managed, subconsciously grabbing for a menu.

The male nodded but his eyebrow arched a bit. You drew your gaze away and nodded for him to follow you. Since it was busy, how it usually was at this time of day, the only open seats for a solo person were at the bar. You tried to situate the menu a bit farther away from the men drinking, knowing that they would cause a commotion.

“Sorry for the shortage of seats,” You turned to the man apologetically, still trying to avoid his eyes. “Hopefully this is okay.”

He nodded and moved to the stool. “It’s fine.” You mentally sighed at his voice’s nice lilt.

“Well, then I’m (Y/n), and I’ll be your waitress for tonight. What would you like to start off with?” You made the mistake to glance up at him.

All hesitation was gone now, and he was looking at you with a sparkling curiosity. “I’ll take a Coke, please.”

You vaguely felt yourself nodding and your hand moving across the paper as you told him you’d be right back. You scurried away and you shook your head to clear it. As you poured his drink in the back corner, you could feel his gaze on you, following your movements. You shivered and tried to focus on your task.

When you made your way back to him, you placed the drink before him, and he reached for it even before you pulled away your hand, causing them to graze. You recoiled quickly in surprise and forced yourself to look at his shaped eyebrows as to not get distracted by anything else. You were working; him being attractive couldn’t mess with that.

“So, have you decided what you’d like to order?” You asked, mentally trying to decide if he colored his brows or if they were naturally that dark and full. He nodded and folded his menu. “The chicken sub. Thanks.”

You hummed. “It’ll be right out.” You were about to walk away before he spoke up again.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way.” You turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, your body following suit a second after.

“Oh? Nice to meet you.” You smiled, somewhat awkwardly. “Have you been here before?”

“Uh, no,” he shifted in his seat and you saw that shyness from earlier come back for a second. “I just transferred here.”

Your eyes widened mildly in surprised interest. “School’s been in for a couple months. Why just now?”

Jungkook straightened a little, some confidence surging back to him. “I got a special sports scholarship, but I was dealing with some family matters so i had to finish those before I could come here.”

You nodded and leaned against the bar. “I wish you luck with catching up; studying is Hell. What sport are you doing?”

“Track,” He replied instantly. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “I’ve been told I run rather fast.”

You were stunned momentarily at his smile. His two front teeth made him look like a bunny, and you melted at the sight. Jungkook saw your reaction and chuckled lightly, cocking his head to the side teasingly.

You snapped out of it and rolled your eyes, softly laughing with him in hopes it will ease down your blush.

“What about you?” He inquired, his sole attention on you.

You furrowed your brows. “What about me?”

“What do you do? What are you at school for?” He explained. At this point, both of you forgot that he was there for food, and that you were supposed to be taking back his order.

You shrugged and looked down. “Art.”

His interest peaked again. “Oh, I imagine you’re great. You seem like the type to draw well.”

You shook your head with a little chuckle. Was he flirting with you or was that an actual thought? “Uh, thanks. I’d say I’m okay at it.”

He scoffed. “If you’re able to go to college for it as your major, I’m sure you’re good.”

“Well, uh, thanks.” You brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear and held up your notepad, the corner of your lip quirking up. “I’ll get this to the kitchen now.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Uh, right. Yeah, sorry for holding you up.”

You giggled and smiled at him. “You’re fine. I enjoyed talking to you.” You moved away from him then and didn’t see his surprised yet pleased expression.

When you returned with his food, the conversation was quick but more comfortable than if it was just a regular customer. The smiles you directed at him weren’t the fake ones you usually wore during during work hours, and you didn’t try to rush through the billing process.

When he handed you the required amount of cash, he stopped you from leaving. “So maybe we could see each other again?”

You opened your mouth a bit in surprise. Was he actually interested in getting to know you? You nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

You could tell he wasn’t anticipating that response. The confidence he built up with you throughout the night dwindled a bit. Realizing that, you offered a light smirk, causing him to peep up at you hopefully.

“I’m not saying I don’t want to see you again, right? Relax, Jungkook.”

His eyebrows shot up. He definitely wasn’t expecting you to say that. “W-well, I guess I’m trying to say-”

“Oh, I almost forgot your receipt!” You piped up, interrupting him and peeling off the bottom half off of his bill. He, flustered, took the bill and tried to find a way to continue speaking before you left. “I’ve got to go, though; my shift ended a bit ago. Nice meeting you, Jungkook!” You scurried into the back before Jungkook got the chance to call for you.

You let out a deep breath, changed your shirt, and grabbed your bag before heading out the back door. Taehyung was there already in your car, and you felt yourself instantly calm down and grin. You moved over and sat beside him, shutting the door behind you. You stretched and sighed as Taehyung raised a brow at you playfully.

“Rough shift?” he asked, his deep voice causing your nerves to untense that bit more. “You were in there a while longer after your shift ended.”

“You could say that.” You yawned and changed the topic. “What movie are we watching?”

He shrugged and adjusted the headlights. “Not sure; you want to watch an anime or something instead?”

You nodded. “Sounds good. It doesn’t really matter to me, though. I just want to hang with you.”

Taehyung laughed and glanced at you, his eyes twinkling. “I could say the same thing.”

Back in the restaurant, Jungkook sighed and slouched in his chair. He was hoping to ask you on a date or for your number, but he didn’t get the words out in time. Or was he reading your signals wrong? Were you not interested? You walked out pretty fast. But he was so sure…

Jungkook sighed again and leaned back, running a hand through his hair. He brought the receipt up to his face and checked over the writing before stopping. His eyes were fixated on a cute doodle of a bunny and a few flowers. Jungkook felt his mouth twitch into a small, giddy grin.

Maybe you were interested after all.

#bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook #taehyung #V #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #angst #fluff #love triangle #stillgotmydignitae #cinanamon #Don't Leave Me

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