Jon: Look, everybody. I got a new bro, isn’t he awesome? We’re like Dad and King Robert reborn and Davos is our Jon Arryn.
Sansa, planning out things like food rations, supplies, and who will make what clothes for the soldiers who are getting ready to fight and not completely paying attention: That’s great, Jon.
Arya: Seven hells, Gendry is MY Baratheon bastard. Sasna’s got Mya Stone-
Sansa: Mya’s not in the show-
Arya: Whatever, I don’t care. I saw Gendry first, he’s mine. *unable to pull Gendry away by the collar because he’s too tall, she settles for grabbing him by the belt and drags him off *
Okay, I’m so sorry. Now that that is out of my system… I’m actually not entirely sure. I’m thinking there will be a lot of disbelieving staring and “you’re alive?!” repeated a few times. And stupidly adorable, shy smiles.
Maybe a very cautious hug. Or Arya might not even give a crap and just tackle him. I also think it’s about 99.99% certain that Arya will insult him somehow, probably about his short hair and that it makes him look like a plonker.
Although I would love it if they could get in some Acorn Hall-esque dialogue:
Natasha was happy as she had never been in her life. She was at that highest pitch of happiness, when one becomes completely good and kind, and disbelieves in the very possibility of evil, unhappiness, and sorrow.
A little thing I’ve been thinking about lately: Dorian’s comment that Felix was “a better man, clearly; not nearly as handsome.” It’s interesting - so many narratives have this idea of a character thinking they’re plain or ugly and that being part of general low self-esteem, because it’s taken as a value judgement. (It seems to come up a lot more in narratives written by women, depressingly, but that’s a whole other meta.) It’s an easy shorthand for “this character has self-worth issues.”
Dorian’s character writing swerves that. He knows he’s handsome. It was something valued in Tevinter, both as part of the casual sex he alludes to and as a status thing in general - part of that “perfect body, perfect mind” idea; it’s certainly easier to get your perfectly-distilled mageling kid married off if they’re nice to look at. What he’s worried about is that there’s nothing of worth on the inside. Look at his touched surprise and the way he doesn’t know how to respond when he’s called “a better man then he gives himself credit for” or “brave” - those are what get him, not the more obvious, easy compliments. He jokes to the Inquisitor about being “but an adornment upon your arm” - and that’s exactly what worries him.
Other characters call him arrogant, and eh, maybe, but only about particular things. The obvious things he can take pride in, that his peers back in the Imperium were bothered about - his appearance, his magical prowess - then sure. That’s how he’s used to playing the Game. But he’s constantly trying to work out what he is without those and without Tevinter ideas of status, and trying to live up to his own ideals and principles the way his father and Alexius ultimately couldn’t (”What’s in your heart” indeed). He’s trying, constantly, to approach people without ulterior motives and game-playing - look at how he says he’s had few friends (with the clear implication he wishes it were otherwise), look at his banters with other companions and the way he tries to level with them, and look at his general hatred of deception and politics and… well, everything about the Winter Palace.
He’s got everything to prove - and he says that in a barely veiled way when he talks about wanting to show that “not everything from Tevinter is terrible.” He’s constantly trying to prove to himself and everybody else that he’s moral, that he has integrity, that he’s worthy of love (platonic or otherwise - look how pleased he is and how hard he tries to impress, to endear himself, when he’s making friends with the Inquisitor, never mind when he’s romanced, because he’s been rejected so many times that he’s startled and disbelieving when it doesn’t happen). That’s because on some level, he’s worried about these things.
He may strut and show off - after all, “Pavus” means “peacock” - but arrogant? Not exactly, if you know what to look for.
So… this turned out to be quite long again, but I don’t care. I had so much fun doing this :3
Pressure. There had been pressure at the back of his head lately. It felt like something was pushing against his mind, trying to coax Kuro into letting it in.
At first he’d thought this was another terrible experiment, another sick joke the Druids were pulling to make him break and give up what little humanity he’d regained since Shiro was there with him. Their mind-tricks and brainwashing methods were the worst ones. But that idea was discarded quickly… Because it didn’t feel cruel or malicious. It didn’t feel as cold and intrusive as Druid magic would. It was just… there. Warm and constant, but never demanding.
Shiro felt it to. If his searching gaze and withdrawn behaviour was anything to go by. Sometimes Kuro swore he saw something like recognition flit over those painfully familiar features. But as fast as it came, it faded again. Weighed down by the pure awareness of just where they were.
Kuro never asked about it.
Until that one day… the day the Druids let them see their newest creation.
There was nothing he could do but wait. And that’s exactly what he did. Everyday, every single minute he didn’t spend on saving planet after planet - saving lives. Every. Fucking. Second.
He’d sit and wait. Sit and wait.
Some days he went mad with impatience. He had a feeling that time was running out for both of them, him and Shiro. And all he could do was sit in Black’s cockpit and concentrate. On what? He had no idea. It hadn’t been his idea in the first place. But Black had insisted on trying to get a hold of Shiro through their bond.
But sitting in his place, in his lion, playing his role as the leader of Voltron didn’t help Keith concentrate at all. It just made him more restless.
Still, Black insisted. Because she loved Shiro… And she knew Keith did, too. She had known it all along.
So they both sat in the Black Lion’s hangar and listened; reached out into the endless nothingness of space, trying to feel the familiar warmth of the Black Paladin’s soul. Keith had no idea how this was supposed to work - but he guessed it had something to do with Lion magic. Black had tried to explain it to him once… she had tried to explain that she, because of her own bond with Shiro, worked like an amplifier to the connection Keith and Shiro shared. She even tried to tell him something about two beings made from the same quintessence and fate and all that stuff, but Keith hadn’t even been listening at that point. All he knew was, that he wanted Shiro back. And he would do anything to find him.
The moment it had worked, the moment he felt the other Paladin’s presence emerge from the darkest depth of the universe, had him almost fainting with relief and joy. Shiro was alive. Above all the white noise and static of space, Keith could still feel him, like a signature his soul had left behind, and hold onto that. He was alive. And Keith would find him.
All he had to do was work with Black to establish a proper connection to Shiro, to get a grasp on him, and then find out where he was.
Well… easier said than done.
For there was something else. Something that distracted Keith time and time again. There was a presence, another signature the Black Lion could follow - could connect to in a way. It looked - or rather felt - like a faded, almost washed-out version of Shiro’s soul. If he’d have to describe it, he’d say it felt like looking at two different hues of the same color.
Keith didn’t pay much attention to it…
Until the day Shiro’s signature went silent. Still there, but unresponsive and still. Shutting them out. The only thing Keith could definitely feel was dread
That’s when he knew their time was up.
They’d let them see. Because they knew how much it would affect Shiro. They knew it would break him. Make him give up all hope.
The Druids had showed them their newest monster. A giant made of steel and wires. Just for Shiro. This would be his final transformation. He’d become machinery - heart and soul. A robeast.
It had been his very first time witnessing a panic attack from up close… and it almost choked Kuro himself. There was just so much a human being could take. And Shiro had reached a point where he could take no more. All Kuro could see in the other man’s face was fear. Pure, all-consuming fear.
He’d die. He’d die. He’d die. HE’D DIE. Shiro would die. He knew it.
All Kuro could do was sit and watch with growing concern for his new-found friend. What should he do? How could he help Shiro? How could they get out of this alive?
He needed to save Shiro from this kind of fate. Because Shiro deserved it. He deserved to live.
During their shared time in captivity, the Galra-hybrid had grown quite fond of the not-so-monstrous Champion. Shiro was… well. Shiro was the closest thing Kuro had to family. There HAD to be a way for them to get out of this.
Shiro sat, huddled up into the far corner of their cell, shivering and breathing way too fast for Kuro’s liking. No words had been spoken since they’d seen the robeast in its hangar. Shiro had been eerily silent the whole trip back to their cell.
Come on, come ON!, he thought, wracking his brain for a solution. For a way out. There has to be something.Just SOMETHING!
Kuro didn’t notice the pressure in the back of his head growing… until it was too late.
Something pulled at the seams of his mind, something big and dark - but not evil. If he concentrated enough, he could feel the presence embrace him, encircle him with warm darkness.
Let me in.
Let me in, a deep voice repeated. He’d never heard it before… But still it sounded… familiar. Warm and thick like honey. He couldn’t tell whether it was a woman or a man speaking. It sounded…beyond physical manifestation; beyond the universe itself.
We will help you.
Alright, Kuro thought, now wasn’t the time to talk to voices inside your head. He had to find a way out of here. It was only a tad bit alarming, that voices, no one else seemed to hear, didn’t really faze him anymore. There had been worse, he told himself.
Who was “we” anyway?
Me and Keith, the voice provided.
Wait a second…. Keith? THE Keith? As in “Red Paladin Keith”? Keith from Earth? The Keith Shiro wouldn’t stop talking about?
The presence gave an affirming nudge, because yes, they were talking about the same person. Holy shit.
But why? How? He had so many questions. But for now only one was important:
Can you get us out of here?
Relief flooded his very being. Good. This was- good. But they didn’t have much time. They had no idea when the guards would come to take Shiro. It could be any moment now.
You’ll need to hurry, Kuro thought, trying to dig everything he’d seen in that hangar up from his mind. You need to-
We know. We’re already on our way.
We’ll try to get your way, then.
Can you do us a favor, first?
Kuro hesitated. The soft pressure at the back of his head had spread over the past few minutes. Whatever they were, whatever kind of magical shit their saviors-to-be were pulling… It had spread over his body. Like something tried to squeeze into his body, beside his own mind.
What kind of favor?
Let him talk to Shiro.
I don’t think I-
… This was crazy. This was so, so crazy. But was there anything left for him to lose? If this was a trap, would it really matter? Taking a look at Shiro, who still sat on the ground, shaking like a leaf and staring absently ahead without really seeing, Kuro decided it was worth a shot. Or his mind, to be more precise.
He hadn’t finished that thought, when it already hit him. Red hot and blazing like a dying star; like a burning arrow shot right through his very core. Melting him, burning him… filling up the frayed ends of his mind, where the arena and the labs had taken pieces of him. Until he was whole again. Better than whole. He was more.
He could feel the blazing presence, the very soul of the Red Paladin melt into him and take control of what was his. His thoughts, his feelings, his body. And Kuro let him.
For he could feel everything the Paladin poured into his being. Desperation, sorrow, longing, love. A love that burned brighter than a supernova. Kuro could feel it sear his chest, his throat, his mouth on its way up. He could feel it pressing against his jaws, forcing them to open; his mind already giving the order to speak - without him realizing it. His mind wasn’t his anymore. But he didn’t care.
“S-Shiro?”, even his voice sounded off. A bit high-pitched, less guttural. “Shiro? Are you there?”
The former Champion froze. Wide eyes darted towards him, disbelieve written all over his face. It took him a few seconds to realize what - or better who- he’d just heard. Kuro could tell the exact moment it hit him.
“Yeah”, the strange voice spoke again. The words felt fuzzy and alien on his tongue. “We’re on our way. Just hang on.”
Yay I finall made it :D @kuroweek sorry for the delay!
Five Times Tony Stark Was a Good Dad (And One Time He Wasn’t)
So, I’m obsessed with the whole idea that Peter is Tony’s unofficial son and it’s only supported by Tony’s appearance in Spider-Man Homecoming, so I came up with this series, which is in the works and also posted on my AO3 account. If you like it or have any suggestions as to where I should take this, please don’t hesitate to let me know! Also, forgive any spelling errors or mistakes, I finished this at three in the morning one night and I was too lazy to go back and fix them. Enjoy!
Tony swore when he was twelve years old that he would never be a father. He remembered that moment clearly, like it had just happened a day ago, not well over thirty years ago. He was in his room, his father still screaming in a drunken rage at his mother over something Tony did, his anger and disappointment following Tony down the hallway of their New York penthouse apartment. He remembered sitting on the cold tile floor of his room, head rest against the heavy wooden door that was doing nothing to muffle his father’s harsh words.
His father was angry, Tony had gotten kicked out of his third private school on the East Coast, the letter expulsion still clutched in his father’s harsh grasp. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen his father this furious before and Tony knew that the only thing that saved him from taking a glass full of scotch to the face was his mother’s presence in the room. Maria Stark might’ve been docile about a lot of things, but Howard taking his rage out on Tony physically, that would never fly in this house hold.
Tears of anger and embarrassment welled in Tony’s eyes and he wiped them away furiously, refusing to waste anymore energy on that man that he was forced to acknowledge as his father. No matter what Tony did, it was never enough to please Howard Stark. He made his first prototype of an arch reactor at the age of six, Howard wanted it by age five. Tony skipped three grades, Howard wanted him to skip four. Tony, despite his age, was offered a spot at MIT and if Howard had it his way? He would’ve been there a year ago. No matter how much Tony achieved, how many goals he surpassed, he always came up short in Howard’s eyes. Being the constant source of Howard’s disappointment and ire made Tony wonder if he would ever succeed in his father’s eyes, if his dad would ever clap him on the back and say “I’m proud of you, son.”
He wondered, some nights, when he’d lie awake in his too big bed in his too big room in his too big house, if his father had ever wanted children, had wanted Tony.
The thought crossed his mid countless of times, until it latched onto his cerebral cortex and sat there, like the worst form of cancer that had no possible cure.
And while Tony sat there, head resting tiredly against the warm wood, Howard’s voice still echoing down the long hallway, that cancer spread until it proved fatal.
He never wanted his children to feel like this.
A complete and utter failure.
Tony was self-aware enough to know that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, that human nature was a pattern and patterns were destined to repeat themselves, without fail. Anger and rage and disappointment were the only form of affection Tony was used to getting to his father. His father was a cold man, always keeping Tony at a distance that no matter how hard he tried, Tony could never quite breach.
And Tony knew, no matter how hard he tried, he would always end up like his father.
Peter Parker came into his life unexpectedly and despite popular opinion, unplanned. He’d been keep tabs on the Spider-Kid since the kid popped up on his radar a few months ago, clad in that god awful homemade leotard/hoodie contraption and flying around Queens on his webs with all the grace of a child learning to walk for the first time. Tony never planned to actually meet the kid behind the mask or reaching out to the flying kid in his homemade costume, but when the Avengers disbanded and the only family Tony had ever known was decreasing in numbers, he needed back up.
Looking back, his intentions were purely selfish and it shamed him to admit, when he dropped the kid back off in his sketchy neighborhood in Queens with the new suit he’d made him, he never had any intention of keeping in contact with the kid.
To absolve himself from the guilt, he appointed Happy as his chaperone and threw himself into creating new legs for Rhodey, another way to attempting to soothe ache of guilt that had settled along with the shrapnel, in his battered heart.
He underestimated Peter, who was pushy and persistent and finally, after three months, Happy threw his phone at Tony and told him to call the kid. That night, Tony, with a glass of scotch in hand, filtered through the hundreds of voicemails Peter had left Happy—anecdotes of his daily patrols, everything from helping old ladies cross the street, stopping bike thieves to getting cats out of trees. Each story was told with excruciating detail, in that excited ramble the kid got whenever he was particularly enthused about something and warmth settled around Tony’s heart, fond amusement making his lips curl into his first genuine smile in months.
It took Tony another week to reach out to the kid, but he did and that’s how he found himself, in one of his more flashier cars, sitting outside of Peter’s school. He ignored the gawking, the stunned stares and the whispers of the students filtering out of the school, his eyes scanning the crowd before they landed on a familiar head of messy hair.
Peter was talking excitedly to the chubby, dark haired Asian kid by his side, who was nodding along to everything Peter said with a look of pure wonder on his face and Tony wondered briefly if his little friend knew that his BFF moonlighted as a super-hero in spandex at night.
Another kid appeared by Peter’s side and Tony watched as Peter visibly tensed and tried to skirt around the kid, but the kid threw a hand out and stopped Peter in his tracks.
The cocky grin that appeared on the kid’s face was all too familiar to Tony and before he could even second guess himself, he was out of his car and walking towards the three boys, ignoring the murmurs coming from the crowd.
“—when are you gonna stop lying about your internship with Tony Stark, Penis Parker? There’s no way someone like Tony Stark would ever take on a charity case like you—“
Peter looked up when he heard the murmuring crowd fall to a hush and his gaze landed on Tony.The amount of surprise in the kid’s features made Tony’s gut clench that in no way had to do with the greasy cheeseburger he ate on the way over here.
“M-Mr. Stark, what, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter stammered, flicking his gaze back to would be bully in front of him.
“Yeah, Parker, like I’m gonna fall for that—“
“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” Tony interrupted, smirking in satisfaction when the kid that was giving Peter a hard time, froze, turning his disbelieving eyes on to Tony.
“Y-You-You’re Tony Stark.” He said faintly, his voice shaking.
Tony smirked, “Astute observation and you are?”
The kid gulped, his adams apple bobbing harshly, “F-Flash Thompson.”
“Makes sense,” Tony said with a nod of his head, looking the kid up and down, “I’d bully someone too, if my parents named me after the lamest superhero to ever grace the pages of a comic book, overcompensation and all that,” Tony said thoughtfully, “especially with your perceived fixation on the male genitalia. Tell me, did it take you a while to come up with something that juvenile or did you have someone equally as childish think it up for you? Because I would think someone with—and I’m assuming here, so correct me if my deductive reasoning skills are off—a high level of intelligence would come up with something a little bit more creative than ‘Penis Parker’.”
By the time Tony was done, the crowd around him was snickering and the kid in front of him looked like he wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole, if such things were possible.
Tony smiled, but there was nothing nice about, “Now, if I ever catch wind of you so much as looking in Peter’s direction again and trust me, kid, I’ve got my ways, I have no issue siccing my AI on all your school records and wreaking havoc on your future plans for any Ivy League schools, you reading me kid?”
Flash nodded so vigorously he resembled a bobble head, “Y-Yes, Sir.”
Tony smiled, this one much more kind than the last, “Good, I’m glad we could reach an understanding, now running along so I can talk to my intern here without your sorry excuse for cologne clouding my senses, seriously kid less is more.”
Flash tucked his proverbial tail between his legs and pushed through the crowd of people that were now openly laughing, losing interest in Tony in favor of chasing after Flash to mock him.
Tony shouldn’t feel as proud as he did, but he knew what it was like to be bullied and he’d be damned if his kid—ahem, someone like Peter had to deal with someone as childish as Flash Thompson every day and it was within his power to do something about it. Like kid didn’t already have enough to deal with as it was.
He turned back to see a dumbfounded Peter and his equally as flabbergasted friend.
“That was—” Peter began, but seemed to be at a loss for words, shaking his head in disbelief.
His friend, however, didn’t seem to have that particular problem.
“—AWESOME!” His friend said excitedly, “oh man did you see Flash’s face? Dude, this is greatest thing to ever happen to me. Tony Stark just verbally assaulted Flash, Jesus dude, how is this your life? If you ever want to trade, even if it’s just for a day, I’m totally down—“
“Ned.” Peter muttered, elbowing him roughly, giving a rough jerk of his head in Tony’s direction. He flicked his apologetic gaze over to Tony, who simply rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Ned followed his gaze and flushed, “Right, sorry.”
Peter closed his eyes for a moment and Tony could see the kid physically trying to fight off his embarrassment and couldn’t help but chuckle.
Peter’s eyes snapped open at the sound and the surprise and confusion from earlier was back, “Mr. Stark, what are you doing here? At my school? Is everything okay? Is there a—“ Peter glanced around in a sad attempt at nonchalance and lowered his voice to an equally as sad attempt at a whisper, “—mission?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that was making Tony wonder if the kid had a weird twitch he’d never noticed before.
Tony glanced over at Ned quickly, going back to his original curiosity of how much the kid actually knew about his arachnid friend here, but Ned seemed to catch on to Tony’s unasked question.
“Don’t worry Mr. Stark, sir, I’m Peter’s Guy In The Chair.” Ned answered helpfully, giving him a bright smile.
Tony glanced back over at Peter with a raised eyebrow, who simply muttered “dude” in an exasperated tone, shaking his head before returning his attention to Tony, “Ned knows.”
“Oh, well, in that case, no, there is no…mission,” Tony said in a mock whisper, making Peter flush, “I’m working on a new Iron Man suit and I need to pick your brain for some ideas on upgrades, figured I’d swing by and pick you up from school today.”
Peter’s eyes widened and Ned seemed torn between fainting or peeing himself from excitement.
“You get to touch the Iron Man suit?!” He squeaked, turning his wide-eyed gaze over to Peter, who only gave Ned a look, who bit his lip sheepishly, but looked like he was ready to explode from the level of his enthusiasm.
Peter ignored him, “I was supposed to help Ned finish the lego Death Star today, we were supposed to do it yesterday, but I uh, kinda got caught up on patrol.” Peter gave Tony a guilty shrug of his shoulders.
“So let me get this straight,” Tony said slowly, “you’re turning down quality time in my personal lab to build a lego Death Star with Ned over here?”
Peter’s eyes had lit up at the mentions of Tony’s lab, but with quick glance at a wide eyed Ned, who seemed to be stuck on the fact that Tony Stark said his name, his excitement dimmed. But Peter was loyal, almost to a fault, and nodded resolutely.
Tony, seemingly at a loss for words, just stood there, shellshocked at being told no, by a fifteen year old kid at that. A small part of Tony, the one that was actually looking forward to hanging out with the kid, was slightly hurt at the rejection.
Ned, who’d been watching the entire scene with wide eyes, was more observant than he looked and seemed to sense Peter’s indecision and Tony’s disappointment, because he gave his friend a bright smile, “Dude, we can finish the Death Star anytime and besides, my mom wanted me home tonight to help her with something, so I’m booked, raincheck?” He offered.
Peter glanced at Ned then at Tony and then back to Ned, “Um, sure Ned, no problem.”
Ned gave him a smile and then turning his attention back to Tony, his friendly smiled turned a bit more to the manic grin that most people wore in Tony’s presence, “It was really nice to meet you Mr. Stark.”
He offered Peter a fist bump, who returned it, before he started walking down the side walk, towards, what Tony assumed, was home.
Turning his attention back to the kid, he gave him a smile, “Good good, now we should probably be on our way if we want to avoid traffic. Now, as far as suit upgrades go, I was thinking of up-ing the suit’s repulsers a bit—hey, kid, you coming?” Tony asked from his position on the driver’s side, raising an eyebrow at Peter, who was still standing on the side walk. Tony followed his gaze and saw Ned still making his way down the sidewalk and chancing a glance back at Peter, who was still watching him with big, guilty eyes, he sighed.
The things I do for you, kid, Tony thought to himself.
“Hey, Ned,” Tony shouted, making the kid pause and turn around, looking to Peter, who was watching Tony with the beginnings of a smile, then back to Tony curiously, “would you like to join us? There’s plenty of room in the lab for three people.”
Even from a few yards away, Tony could see the kid’s eyes widen in surprise before he hustled his way back to an equally excited Peter, who shot him a grateful look.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He said quietly, giving him a bright smile.
And Tony couldn’t help but smile back, “You’re welcome, kiddo,” eyeing a panting Ned warily, “make sure he doesn’t do anything…weird, okay? I don’t mind opening my lab to him but there was something in his eyes when I was talking about the Iron Man suit that made me decidedly uncomfortable.”
Peter gave a breathy laugh, “Don’t worry, Mr. Stark, Ned’s cool.”
Ned, who had come to a slightly sweaty stop in from them, looked up at Tony with wide eyes, “Can I try on the Iron Man helmet?”
Tony spent the majority of their time in lab just watching Peter and Ned run around like kids in a candy store—picking things up, playing with the robots—DUM-E taking a special liking to Peter, who, Tony was pleased to see, treated him like a human, thanking him when he brought them water from the stocked fridge and smiling when DUM-E beeped happily in return—and played with all the gadgets laying around.
Tony, albeit wearily, let them try on one of the Iron Man helmets from one of his earlier models and explained to them how the suit worked, both of them hanging on to his every word. He showed them the blue prints for his newest model, listening to their suggestions and even writing a few them down to look into later.
Ned, Tony found out, was rather intelligent with computers. He gave him one of his old security systems and watched with genuine interest as the kid hacked into the the files with ease and recoded the entire system in a matter of minutes.
When Tony looked it over, he let out a grunt of an approval, “Nice work, kid.”
Ned all but fainted at Tony’s praise.
The hours slipped by and F.R.I.D.A.Y. being the helpful AI that she is, had ordered pizzas without Tony even having to ask and had them sent to the kitchen, alerting them when they had arrived. Tony led them up to the kitchen, watching with thinly veiled amusement as they both took in every new surrounding with the same amount of interest they had shown in the lab.
Tony continued to observe them as they tore into the pizza like they hadn’t eaten in days and taking a quick glance at the clock, he realized with a flash of guilt, that they had been down in the lab for over four hours and the last time they had probably eaten something would’ve been well over seven or eight hours ago.
It was nice, Tony deiced, listening to their mindless chatter and what was especially nice, was seeing how at ease Peter was with his friend, looking like a true fifteen year old with his friend over to his house on a school night, like he didn’t have super powers, like he didn’t dress up in tight spandex and web his way through Queens and fight crime at night while trying to balance a normal life.
The thought nagged at Tony for the rest of dinner and as he rode silently with them in the backseat while Happy drove them all to Ned’s apartment first, who still looked like he couldn’t believe today was real, thanking Tony breathlessly for the best day of his life and telling Peter he’d see him tomorrow at school.
Peter watched his friend with a small, amused smile and when they got to Peter’s apartment building, Tony glanced over at the kid, the smile still had yet to leave his face.
“Alright kid, this is your stop,” Tony said, making a move to undo his seatbelt, but the kid’s hesitant voice made him pause.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter said softly, clearing his throat, “I uh, just wanted to thank you, you know for well, everything,” the kid breathed, smiling up at him so sincerely that it made Tony’s chest ache in the best sort of way, “today was amazing and I really appreciate you inviting Ned along with us, he really looks up to you, you know? And I haven’t really been able to spend much time with him since, y’know, the whole Spider-Man thing.”
The kid paused before continuing on in a softer voice, “And about Flash, I really, really don’t know how to thank you for that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, “it’s kind of funny, in a way, I’m a sort of super-hero and I can’t even stand up to a bully—“
Tony’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the kid’s self-deprecation, “Look, kid, I’m no stranger to bullies,” he began, sighing heavily, “I had my fair share of them when I was in school and even in college. I learned that while you may no be able to physically fight someone, you can always fight them with words and sometimes, words can hurt more than your fists. All I did was give that Flash kid a taste of his own medicine and hopefully, got him off your case.”
Peter was silent for a moment, considering Tony’s words before giving him another appreciative smile, “I don’t think Flash will be messing with me anytime soon, but still, thank you,” Peter’s smile turned shy, “you’re the first adult, other than May, to stand up for me and I really appreciate it, so thank you, Mr. Stark.”
“Call me Tony,” Tony offered after a beat of silence, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.
Whatever he was trying to say, the kid got, because he smiled brightly and Tony, suddenly feeling awkward at the unusual sentimental moment, busied himself with unbuckling his seatbelt, ignoring the warmth in his chest.
He reached around the kid to open the door for him and Peter, rather than getting out, just like last time, he reached up and wrapped his arms around Tony, thinking he was hugging him
“This um, wasn’t a hug,” Tony began awkwardly, “I’m just getting the door for you.”
However, before the kid could pull away, Tony wrapped his arms around him and gave him a quick, but firm squeeze.
Peter gave him another smile before wishing Tony and Happy a goodnight, getting out of the car and making his way up towards his apartment. Tony debated on his next move, mulling it over quickly and before the kid could get too far, he found himself making a snap decision and rolling down he window.
“Hey, Underoos,” Tony started, slightly unsure when the kid turned around and looked at Tony with hopeful eyes.
“Same time, same place tomorrow?” He said after a moment of silence, the kid’s answering grin melting away any self doubt before it could begin.
“Sure Mr.Stark—Tony,” Peter stuttered excitedly, “sounds great!”
Tony watched the kid go with a satisfied smiled, so caught up in his happy little pseudo-family moment that he almost didn’t hear his phone ring.
Not even bothering to glance at the caller I.D., he answered it with a smooth, “Stark.”
“Tony?! What the hell we’re you thinking going to a school and threatening a minor, A MINOR—“
The Winter Soldier never had anything sweet. He wasn't allowed to. So yes - Tony finds that putting a lollipop in Winters mouth makes him go from angry-angsty mess to grinning-happy-place fluffball in under 10 seconds. There is a lollipop-protocol now and Tony loves to see the officials cringe about it. Also: Natasha is an evil Nimm2-Lolli carrying enabler.
Now this is a nice ask to come back to on a Tuesday morning!
It probably starts as an accident. Something happens–something small, a wrong word, a too-loud noise–and Bucky’s features just–go slack, in that creepily empty way, and Tony panics. He’s alone in the kitchen. The suit, the rest of the team, none of them will be fast enough if Bucky goes into kill mode.
So. He just–grabs the closest thing within reach. Which happens to be a lollipop. And pushes it into the Soldier-Bucky’s mouth. Because genius and panic and lack of better ideas make it sound like a sensible option.
To everybody’s surprise it works.
Soldier-Bucky goes very, very still, and for a moment Tony is convinced he’s done for. Then Soldier-Bucky reaches up–with his metal hand–and very carefully grabs the lollipop and just–sucks on it a little. Curiously. Like he’s not quite sure what to do with it.
Tony blinks at the unexpected sight, ignores the loud footsteps of the others in the hallway, probably having been alarmed by FRIDAY.
“It’s a lollipop,” he explains, because these are apparently the kind of conversations he has these days. Soldier-Bucky’s eyes flicker to him, but he shows no outward reaction to the words.
“You’re supposed to lick it,” Tony clarifies. Very slowly reaches for another lollipop to demonstrate.
He will forever cherish the disbelieving faces of his team mates when they walk in on Tony teaching the Winter Soldier how to properly–and not so properly–enjoy a lollipop.
And well, after that Tony makes sure to always have an emergency stash of lollipops at hand. (Read: He always had one, but now he’s got a damn good excuse for it too.)
It’s worth seeing Fury choke on his coffee–though the bastard will deny it until he’s blue in the face–the first time he stumbles over the Lollipop Protocol™. It’s worth seeing Natasha having way too much fun hiding lollipops in the most unexpected places.
The hands down best part though is when they’re at a gala, and one of the guests refuses to take a hint until Bucky’s face goes very blank and he very slowly reaches into his pocket, pulls out a lollipop and starts licking it Aggressively™, all the while glaring holes into the man until the guy flees for his life.
Tony is impressed. Even more so when Soldier-Bucky catches him stare, winks and does something truly obscene with his tongue that makes Steve drop his drink and Clint whistle and yeah. Tony is definitely impressed.
Okay, serious talking now. What would be the worst point in each paladin to attack. We know about Lance's insecurities, but what else? What about the others? I want to read your opinion because you do awsome meta and character analysis.
???????? Wow, thank you ;A; And I’m not sure if I can answer this well for all paladins but I’ll try^^ [tl;dr at the end because this post has gotten really long]
Let’s start with Lance. Lance honestly has many points to attack, which is probably why this fandom is so focused on langst. It’s easy to create content for that because we have so much to work with:
1. his insecurities about his role on the team and in general
I already wrote a lot about it here (and also here a little), desperately trying to figure out how strong these insecurities are but there is no doubt that they exist^^ Surprisingly, they actually seem to be very strong, to the point that fandom only exaggerates them slightly. Lance is just pretty good at hiding them.
Lance is homesick. Really homesick. He’s homesick to the point that he would leave a party to hang out alone and get lost in his memories:
He is also the one that references his life on Earth the most often. “I missed 14 days for a stomachache in 3rd grade that I never really had”, “That’s the tagline of 6 of my favorite movies” - those are little things, not very important in the overall picture but they prove that he thinks back to his past.
3. fear of death/unnatural things that are dangerous
Lance isn’t afraid of aliens, that’s not what I mean with it - I’m talking about the episode Crystal Venom where the castle was trying to kill him. Here is an analysis on how deeply that episode really disturbed him. As for his fear of dying - he is the one that has been confronted with death the most of all the paladins (excluding Shiro - but Shiro has lost/repressed lots of his traumatic memories). Here’s proof:
S1E1. He thought Hunk had died in the explosion when they were trying to retrieve the yellow lion. S1E4. The explosion nearly killed him - “you would have died if Hunk and Coran hadn’t gotten a new crystal” (Pidge, S1E6). S1E9. He almost got sucked out of an airlock. S2E2. The snake monster thingy got free of the stone and Lance was in the direct line of fire.
He was the one screaming “we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die!!” in S2E5 when they had to hold the lenses for the wormhole maker. Lance is scared of death not despite but because he knows it the best of all of them. He almost died multiple times and he saw his friends almost dying multiple times (the Hunk thingy I included above, when he saved Coran from the explosion, when he thought he had to save Coran in “Crystal Venom”, when Pidge in the cube episode got shot down and didn’t reply to them). Look at his reaction vs the reaction of the other paladins when they thought Allura had died:
They are all shocked and disbelieving, meanwhile Lance:
He’s neither shocked nor disbelieving, he’s just hurt. One of his deepest fears became reality and there is nothing he could do about it.