Kingdom Hearts } By Definition
Word Count: 476
Genre: General, but I can bet you can spot the beginnings of vague romance
Ships?: Zexion/Tony, if you turn your head and jump on one foot
Characters: Zexion, Tony Stark
→Mentions: Pepper Potts
Rating: PG-13 for some language
Spoilers: For the Iron Man movie!
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Marvel or any related characters. This was written out of enjoyment of the series, and no profit is being made.
Notes: Guess what time it is, boys and girls? ~OLD FIC POSTING TIME~
YAAAAAY
Came about because a) I've been wanting to write Tony since I saw the first movie back in the summer of ('69) '08. b) higenshi wrote them and didn't die, so I figured I'd make good on a promise I made to myself and try it. c) I figure it's good for my Fic Karma. Someone out there on the other side of the globe will go 'LEXAEUS/NAKOMA OF COURSE' and write an amazing fic in Swahili that I will never find. d) It is trilies OTP eye dee kay, writing other people's OTPs are really reason enough. Oooh, which I guess means that I have to write Xandra/Somnam one day. Huh.
I feel bad that I keep creating all these tags that I worry I will never use again. :'c Iiiii don't think it's thaaaat great, but I'll leave that to your reviews!
Meet me by the bar, like every other time.
By Definition
“You are, by definition, every type of idiot there is.”
The brandy burns as it slides down Tony’s throat and he throws a sharp grin (there are one hundred and eighty degrees contained within the angle of a triangle, and there is something triangular about that grin; dagger-sharp corners) at the man sitting next to him. “Care to provide proof of that?”
Whatever light is caught in the man’s hair is scrawny and probably as drunk as they are on the atmosphere - because he swears this guy has blue-grey-purple hair or something.
He’s met him here, before. Before when? Can’t remember, don’t much care.
“Id-i-ot. Noun. A person affected with idiocy; especially a feebleminded person having a mental age not exceeding three years and requiring complete custodial care. Two: a silly or foolish person. Comes from the Latin idiota meaning ‘ignorant person’.”
“Okay, whoa, I may not - you seriously fucking - okay, not a mental three-year-old.”
“I can see that, Stark. You mean you are not a three-year-old mentally.”
“Shecondly,” Tony can’t help but laugh at himself as he hears his words slur, “do not require complete custodial care.”
“Do you know your social security number, Mr. Stark?”
“…I have Pepper for that.”
The man laughs, a single chuckle before he returns to his drink. Tony: one, mysterious oddly attractive bastard man: …no more than three.
“Well, come on. What came after that? I need to make appropriate come-backs to every part of this definition. Help me out. ‘Silly’? How am I silly in any way, shape or form?”
The man turns fully towards him for the first time, so he can see he has a mess of long bangs covering his right eye. The visible left eye - a dark dusky blue - tilts upward slightly to take in the bright purple business tie knotted around the man’s head, through his black mess of hair.
“You revealed your identity as Iron Man to the press,” he answers simply, almost bored.
“Eh,” Tony shrugs. “That probably goes with the ‘foolish’ part -” he manages to stifle an odd sort of hiccup-burp in his chest, and grins, this time with softer angles in his teeth and lips, “- am I right?”
There is a sudden silence and even through the haze of alcohol Tony can tell it’s not a sort of lull in the conversation he likes. (Does he like any kind of lull?)
“No,” the man says, suddenly defensive. “You’re foolish for continuing to look at me like that.”
Before the man who built a suit of armour out of a scrapheap can figure out what he did wrong, the mysterious admittedly attractive bastard man is gone from his seat, a handful of bills on the counter the only proof he ever existed.
Tony scoffs to himself. The one that got away.
Well. There’s a first time for everything.
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Genre: General, but I can bet you can spot the beginnings of vague romance
Ships?: Zexion/Tony, if you turn your head and jump on one foot
Characters: Zexion, Tony Stark
→Mentions: Pepper Potts
Rating: PG-13 for some language
Spoilers: For the Iron Man movie!
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Marvel or any related characters. This was written out of enjoyment of the series, and no profit is being made.
Notes: Guess what time it is, boys and girls? ~OLD FIC POSTING TIME~
YAAAAAY
Came about because a) I've been wanting to write Tony since I saw the first movie back in the summer of ('69) '08. b) higenshi wrote them and didn't die, so I figured I'd make good on a promise I made to myself and try it. c) I figure it's good for my Fic Karma. Someone out there on the other side of the globe will go 'LEXAEUS/NAKOMA OF COURSE' and write an amazing fic in Swahili that I will never find. d) It is trilies OTP eye dee kay, writing other people's OTPs are really reason enough. Oooh, which I guess means that I have to write Xandra/Somnam one day. Huh.
I feel bad that I keep creating all these tags that I worry I will never use again. :'c Iiiii don't think it's thaaaat great, but I'll leave that to your reviews!
Meet me by the bar, like every other time.
By Definition
“You are, by definition, every type of idiot there is.”
The brandy burns as it slides down Tony’s throat and he throws a sharp grin (there are one hundred and eighty degrees contained within the angle of a triangle, and there is something triangular about that grin; dagger-sharp corners) at the man sitting next to him. “Care to provide proof of that?”
Whatever light is caught in the man’s hair is scrawny and probably as drunk as they are on the atmosphere - because he swears this guy has blue-grey-purple hair or something.
He’s met him here, before. Before when? Can’t remember, don’t much care.
“Id-i-ot. Noun. A person affected with idiocy; especially a feebleminded person having a mental age not exceeding three years and requiring complete custodial care. Two: a silly or foolish person. Comes from the Latin idiota meaning ‘ignorant person’.”
“Okay, whoa, I may not - you seriously fucking - okay, not a mental three-year-old.”
“I can see that, Stark. You mean you are not a three-year-old mentally.”
“Shecondly,” Tony can’t help but laugh at himself as he hears his words slur, “do not require complete custodial care.”
“Do you know your social security number, Mr. Stark?”
“…I have Pepper for that.”
The man laughs, a single chuckle before he returns to his drink. Tony: one, mysterious oddly attractive bastard man: …no more than three.
“Well, come on. What came after that? I need to make appropriate come-backs to every part of this definition. Help me out. ‘Silly’? How am I silly in any way, shape or form?”
The man turns fully towards him for the first time, so he can see he has a mess of long bangs covering his right eye. The visible left eye - a dark dusky blue - tilts upward slightly to take in the bright purple business tie knotted around the man’s head, through his black mess of hair.
“You revealed your identity as Iron Man to the press,” he answers simply, almost bored.
“Eh,” Tony shrugs. “That probably goes with the ‘foolish’ part -” he manages to stifle an odd sort of hiccup-burp in his chest, and grins, this time with softer angles in his teeth and lips, “- am I right?”
There is a sudden silence and even through the haze of alcohol Tony can tell it’s not a sort of lull in the conversation he likes. (Does he like any kind of lull?)
“No,” the man says, suddenly defensive. “You’re foolish for continuing to look at me like that.”
Before the man who built a suit of armour out of a scrapheap can figure out what he did wrong, the mysterious admittedly attractive bastard man is gone from his seat, a handful of bills on the counter the only proof he ever existed.
Tony scoffs to himself. The one that got away.
Well. There’s a first time for everything.
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