#but yeah idk man people are pretty forgiving just murder that voice in your head saying i'ts bad

[gdcatboys]

I've been writing some roleswap snippets! and I'm coming here for advice.

I've left them aside for a looong while, in part due to the sensitive material. I don't feel I'm tackling everything about it properly, and that makes me kind of nervous to post them. i ask myself if i needed to be more careful with the way it's all written, or if i should have had more conversations about the themes with other people. Especially because it's heavy topics that i don't feel i have a good grip on. Though I also haven't really been able to speak about it with anybody else and get insight for....multiple different reasons.

Maybe I'm asking too much of mediocre writing skills, to tackle everything perfectly first try. but I am also quite fond of what i have written so far.

I'm at a loss on what to do here: slap in all the warnings and tags and mandatory dead dove, and call it a day? I feel as though trying to find a different way of going about is just out of my depth at that point.

I also kind of worry i will regret putting it out there at some point. That might just be a problem for future Anon, though.

First off, roleswap snippets! Love roleswap so much, this is exciting. XD

So, without actually reading what you've written, I can only talk about what writing the original is like? There are definitely some heavy themes, and we've had to be pretty careful with them. Sometimes characters will have viewpoints that don't line up with our own (Techno and sex work comes to mind), but I think the most important part is to just treat each character like a person? As long as the reactions and the way each character acts feels relatable, people will forgive a lot.

Also, there's probably a little voice in your head saying you're a bad person for writing about non-con and slavery and that people will hate you for it, etc, etc. Just go ahead and smash that little voice. That's your inner puritan. It's an asshole.

Anyways, I have no idea if this helped at all??? You're welcome to dm us if you want, and I can talk to you about more specific stuff you're struggling with and see if I can't help??

[nastybuckybarnes]

Monsters  -  Eleven (Alternate Ending)

Pairing: Dark!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a man who just wants to do better. But he can’t stop the monster from coming out every now and then. As a last and hopeless attempt at calming The Winter Soldier, SHIELD finds him something they figured would help. An innocent young woman with not a lot going for her. Or, The Winter Soldiers newest victim.

Warnings: Language, Violence, Injuries, Fluff, Mentions of Mental Disorders and Personality Disorders (of which I've used personal experiences as references)

Word Count: 2.8K

A/n: Fourth day of ficmas and y’all get an alternate ending!! The end of this has given me an idea for a new dark!Fic that could potentially become a dark series but idk yet. Anyway, enjoy!! 

A/n 2: This doesn’t fall in line with Madness or Bad Dream, but idc

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“(Y/n)? Honey? You in here?” Bucky hesitantly pushes open the front door, senses on high alert in case you make a hostile move.

“James?”

He walks slowly into the living room, smiling softly when he sees you.

“Hey,” he whispers. You eye him warily and he sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he begins gently, sitting down next to you, “I know what I did was wrong, and I know it looks like I chose her over you, but I’m here for you now. And I’m gonna be here for you as long as you’ll have me.”

You stare at him for a moment longer before grinning.

“You need me,” you state. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. “That’s why you came back,” you elaborate, “because you need me. Because you know that Natasha won’t be able to handle you the way I can.”

He swallows hard, thinking back to the way Nat was appalled by the video.

“You’re right.”

You giggle, shaking your head at him. “I know. I know I’m right. I’m the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to you! You’d be lost without me and you’re now realizing it, aren’t you?” His guard is up in an instant, your outburst making him uneasy.

You get up off the couch to stand in front of him, hands on your hips.

“You hurt my feelings, James.” He nods, reaching for your hands slowly. You allow him to take them and watch as he presses gentle kisses to your knuckles.

“I know. And I’m sorry. And you’re right again. I do need you. More than I’ve ever needed anybody and that scares me.” You ponder this for a moment, thinking about all the pictures he received.

“How long were you with her?” He sighs heavily and closes his eyes tightly.

“A month. Maybe longer. At first, she was just something for the soldier when you weren’t there but… I’m not sure why I kept going back. I care about you, I really do.” You hum, pushing his hands away and straddling his waist.

You lean down, lips brushing over his just gently before you smile again.

“I fucked Steve last night. Several times.” A growl rumbles deep in his chest and you pull away for a moment, grinning wickedly as you see his eyes glaze over slightly. His hands grip your hips tightly and he takes a deep breath.

“Your best friend fucked me. For hours. Because you were too busy picking that stupid fucking bitch over me. That’s a lesson for you. I can get whoever I want, whenever I want. You need me, not the other way around. Remember that.” You push yourself off of his lap and walk to the staircase.

“In time you can have me again. But not now. If the soldier needs me, he can have me, but not you, James. Not yet.” He sits panting on the couch, eyes trained on your backside as you leave him confused and aroused.

You close the door to your bedroom and plop yourself down on your bed, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of your mind, the one that’s begging you to leave him. He hurt you, but he’s back. He must care about you or else he wouldn’t have come back, right?

As you’re pondering this, the window slides open with a soft thud. You turn to the sound, anger coursing through your veins as you see the redhead climbing into your room.

“What are you doing here?” You demand, uncurling your legs and climbing off the bed. She closes the window silently and holds her hands up in surrender.

“I just want to talk. Please.” You eye her warily but stay seated at the edge of the bed.

“He came home to me. He chose me. So if you’re gonna try and convince me that he wants you, think again,” you snark, hoping to hurt her feelings before physically hurting her again.

She shakes her head, sitting down slowly on the floor a few feet in front of you, giving you the upper hand if you wanted to get physical.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” You furrow your brows in absolute confusion at her statement. You were expecting a lot of things; yelling, screaming, insults, violence. But this is the absolute opposite of what you had prepared yourself for.

“You don’t even know me,” you scoff, shaking your head at her.

She raises her eyebrows at that. “I know about your parents. Your dad, the paranoid schizophrenic who abused you because he thought he was doing what God wanted. And your mom, the Narcissist who neglected you.”

Your hands start trembling as she brings up people who you’ve fought to forget. The people who made you the way you are.

“You don’t know anything about them. Or me. You’re just-” “Just what? Telling you the truth? Reminding you of the fact that you were raised by them, yet you turned out to be a beautiful, smart, independent young woman?” You look at her, uncertain of where she’s going with this but still angry at the fact that she knows about your past.

“You may have been raised by them, you may have had a difficult childhood, and you may be dealing with something that very few other people can understand, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re not a bad person. You’re hurting, and you’re scared, and I know deep down that you know this isn’t a healthy relationship. But it can stop. We can stop this.”

“You think you know me, don't you? You think you’ve got me all figured out. You don’t. You don’t know a single damn thing about me and I’m tired of you pretending like you do.”

You stand up, glaring at her as she slowly rises to her feet.

“First you come in and intrude on my relationship, make the man who loves me question his devotion to me. Then you come into my room, in my space, and try to tell me that you know all about me. Well, guess what? You don’t. You don’t know a single damn thing about me. You think that because you’ve got the files and the information that you know a single thing about what I’ve done.”

You lean closer to her, lips just barely brushing over the shell of her ear.

“I’ve killed people before, Natasha.” She furrows her brows. You pull away and grin, batting your lashes at her.

“I’ve killed so many people, I’ve lost count. But I remember their faces. Do you wanna know why I did it?” She’s silent but you continue anyway.

“I did it because of the rush. The power of knowing that you hold someone’s life in your hands... and you ended it. It’s euphoric. I may never get enough of it. And when I plan a kill, I plan it precisely. I make sure they have no idea and then... then I pounce.” She backs up a step, inhaling sharply when her back gets pressed into the wall.

“I guess I should thank you, Natty. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be that sweet innocent girl I pretend I am. The one who I’ve been since I moved here. But now that I don’t have to pretend anymore... I feel free. And I’m ready for my next kill. Do you wanna know who it’s gonna be?”

She shakes her head, feeling genuine fear as you talk so casually about ending innocent lives.

“I’ll give you a hint: she’s a woman. And she stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. Do you have any guesses yet?”

“If you kill me, Fury will kill you. I have no doubt about that.” You snicker and pull away, looking her up and down.

“Yeah... but I’ve got someone on my side who isn’t afraid of him. Someone who’d choose me over you in a heartbeat. You may have James, but I have the soldier. He's perfect. Everything I need and more.

“He broke you!”

“He didn’t break me!” You snarl, fist slamming into the wall beside her head. “He showed me who I am and how much I can take. And let me tell you, having those boundaries pushed... it really opens your eyes to what you can endure as a person. It’s a really spiritual process. Would you like to try it?” You ask, eyes wide and full of mischief.

“No. (Y/n) you’re better than this, I know you are.” You laugh, shaking your head and staring into her eyes.

“See, that's where you’re wrong. And that’s what your problem is. You think you’ve got everyone all figured out. But you don’t. You think I’m better than this? I’m not. I can tell you that right now. I’m not the damsel in distress that you think I am. I don’t need your help. Because I like the way I am. I’m fucking perfect! Men want me, I have a purpose. And now, I can get away with whatever the fuck I want. Murder included.”

“James would never-” “You wanna call James up here? See how he likes you intruding on his space? As soon as he sees me and you in any type of fight, the soldier will step in. I know how to trigger him without those special words.” The colour drains from her face and you nod.

“Him and I? We could be great together. I just need you and James out of the way. And look, you’ve handed yourself to me on a silver fucking platter. So Bravo, Natasha.”

“So what? You’re gonna kill me? Then what?”

You shake your head, fingers stroking her cheek gently.

“I’m gonna post that little video of us first. And then, after the good name of The Avengers has been destroyed, I’m gonna take you somewhere nice and quiet and I’m gonna put a bullet between your pretty green eyes. By then, James will be too consumed with his feelings to fight off the soldier, and I’ll have everything I could ever want.”

“Why?”

“Why am I like this? You said it yourself. Daddy was an abusive schizophrenic and mommy was a neglectful narcissist. They made me like this. I’ve pushed it down for too long.”

“But you can be kind! Caring and compassionate and forgiving! You don’t have to be like this!”

“You want me to be kind and forgiving? Ha! The world isn’t kind nor is it forgiving. Why should I be any different?” She shakes her head at you. “I can’t let you do this.” You raise your eyebrows at her and look her up and down.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it? You gonna hurt me?”

She has the two of you in opposite positions in a heartbeat, a knife from her thigh plunged into your side.

You cry out in pain, slumping against the wall.

“James!” You shout, eyes full of pure evil as you look at the redhead in front of you.

Her eyes widen as you rip the knife out of your gut and shove it into hers.

The door bursts open as he runs into the room.

“Nat? What’s...” he trails off and you see the switch as the soldier takes over upon seeing you injured. Natasha is torn from you and tossed to the floor while the soldier hovers over you, inspecting the knife wound for a moment before looking back over his shoulder to where the threat is.

She scrambles to her feet and holds one of her hands up in surrender, the other going to her gut and gently holding around the knife wound

“James, listen to me. You need to understand that she isn’t who she says she is.”

You grab his hand, holding tightly and doing your best to look innocent.

“She came in here and tried to convince me to leave you. When I refused she stabbed me and said I was a monster just like you. I-I didn’t want her to hurt you... I had to do it...” You can see him struggling, trying to regain control of his body as the soldier reaches out to you.

“Bucky, Listen to me. She's not who you think she is. I know I vouched for her in the beginning but now it’s different. You’ve gotta listen to me. She’s dangerous. Please. She stabbed you and she stabbed me, James please.”

He looks between the two of you, clearly measuring his options.

“You chose her once, James. Don’t make the same mistake. Please. I trusted you.” You can see the confusion and anguish in his eyes as he looks at you then over at Nat.

“James, please. Please, you need to believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I know you’re in there.”

“No! She hurt me! She tried to get me to leave you! She tried to come between us! Don’t let her get away with it! Please, James. Please. She did it once, what’s stopping her from doing it again?”

It’s silent for a very long time, the two of you staring at the man, waiting for him to make his decision. When you see his shoulders tense and his jaw clench, you know you’ve won this fight.

The soldier turns to Nat, metal plates in his arm whirring as he clenches his hand in a fist.

“Leave. Never come back. If I ever see you near here again I will kill you.” His words are spat with a thick Russian accent, and it takes all of your self-control not to smile wickedly at the redhead.

“James please! Please, you’ve gotta listen! She isn’t who you think she is!” He says nothing, simply takes your hand and nods at you.

“He picked you last time. Now he’s finally picking me,” you whisper, smiling softly at the man only to grin wickedly at Nat when he turns away.

“Leave now,” he barks, glaring at her until she starts moving. She half runs half limps out of the house, leaving you alone with the soldier.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly then hissing as the wound in your side burns.

He lays you down on the ground, inspecting the gouge before nodding to himself. He stands without another word to retrieve a first aid kit and when he’s beside you again he starts stitching you up, his fingers gentle and kind.

You spend the rest of the day relaxing with the soldier, Bucky hardly making an appearance at all.

You’re getting ready for bed when you feel someone’s eyes on you.

“God, do none of you have any respect for other peoples’ privacy?” You demand, turning around with your hands on your hips.

Steve stands by the door, his arms crossed over his chest and a stern look on his face.

“You know why I’m here.” Is all he says. You nod, pursing your lips and plopping down on your bed.

“The redhead sent you. Came and tattled on me for being a bad girl, right?” He says nothing, but you see a muscle in his jaw twitch.

“Fury’s gonna find out.”

“Oh yeah? And then what? Is he gonna deprive his pet of the one person who can keep him calm and contained?” Steve’s silence is answer enough.

“Don’t act like I’m the bad guy here. You and I both know that you’re just as fucked up as I am, if not more.” He swallows hard and avoids eye contact, making you chuckle.

“Imagine what would happen if people found out about Captain America’s depraved fantasies. Imagine if they knew how badly he craves power... how he longs to make people cower before him. Well, I don’t think they'd react too well to that. Do you?” His nostrils flare as he finally looks at you.

“What do you want?” He asks.

“I want to help you find her. Whoever it is you’re planning on taking. I want to be a part of it.” He furrows his brow, taken aback by your request.

“Why?”

“Because,” you whisper, pushing yourself to your feet and standing right in front of him. “The power is euphoric. It’s addictive. And I wanna feel it again.”

He stares down at you, blue eyes fighting a battle as he mulls over your words.

It’s wrong. He knows it’s wrong. He knows you’re not a good person and that wanting the things he wants isn’t something a good person, a normal person, wants. And yet... there’s something so alluring about you. Something addictive about the darkness inside of you. And he desperately wants a taste of it.

With a huff out of his nose, he glances down.

“So we have a deal?” You ask, a smile playing around the edges of your pretty lips.

“We’ve got a deal.”

[granolabird]

I realized I never posted my Peter x Reader fic on here so I thought I might as well do it even though everyone and their grandma has probably already read it on Ao3 oops.

(Also idk how to do all this fanfic fancy tumblr formatting stuff I apologize I'm an old woman)

Late Nights With Peter

Notes: I wrote this at 1AM during a mental breakdown a few weeks back :) University is a bitch.

It’s late, and I’m half asleep. The tv drones on, displaying some horror movie I can’t recognise past sleep-bleary eyes. Beside me sits Peter, my head resting lightly on his side as I slowly pass out. He doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t seem to care, only focused on watching the movie and seeing how many marshmallows he can fit in his mouth at once. From what I can tell, it’s at least ten. I adjust myself slightly, snuggling closer to him, and he looks over eyes wide. “Hey, are you still awake?” He speed-chews the marshmallows before he asks, giving me a small nudge. “Barely.” I huff and he gives a small chuckle. “You need me to run you upstairs?” He offers and I shake my head as well as I can from the position I’m in, curled up on the couch. “I’m too comfy. You make a good pillow.” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. “As much as I appreciate the compliment, I think it’s time we get you to bed. I don’t know how long I could stay still, even as your honorary pillow.” He reaches over and presses a button on the converter to turn the tv off, before scooping me up, bridal-style. “Fiiine.” I lament knowing it’s too late to try and stay on the couch, seeing as I’m already in his arms. He grins, before running us up to the bedroom and placing me swiftly under the covers, then following suit.

He snuggles close to me, laying one arm over my side as I press into his warm chest. “How did I get so lucky to find someone like you?” I ask, my words muffled in his baggy sleep-shirt. “I could say the same about you.” He sighs, running a hand through my hair. We’re quiet for a moment, but he doesn’t stop moving his hand through my hair slowly. “Hey, I know it’s late but can… can I ask you something?” His words are uncharacteristically quiet and I look up from his chest, searching his face to figure out what he’s thinking. Peter is notorious for late-night pondering of the worst kind. After everything he’s been through, I can’t blame him. “Anything.” I offer in response, but he doesn’t smile this time, he just keeps petting my head lightly. “This is kind of weird, but do you think the guys back at the school care about me?” He questions, and I lift my head to meet his eyes. “What?” I shake my head, a little confused and still sleepy, and he takes a moment to ponder. “It’s just that, I go on all these missions, I do all this work to help them, and they just… keep going. They don’t thank me, they don’t pay me any mind, and then they go off for drinks after the mission and half the time they don’t even ask me to join them. I’m just a comic relief to them, I think. What if they leave me? My dad left me, Logan left all of us, I’ve never had anyone stay as long as you have really, so who’s to say you won’t leave too? Shit, I don’t know, maybe I just need to go to sleep.” His anxiety seems to grow with every word he says, and his eyes are staring off into somewhere far away. His hand has stopped moving across my hair now and it falls softly onto the bed.

“Peter.” I say, lifting a hand to his cheek to snap him out of his daze. “I do think you need to go to sleep, your mind goes much too fast.” I huff out, before continuing. “But they care about you, I can promise you that. Scott told me the other day that you’re one of his best friends. Did you know that?” I offer, and Peter tips his head slightly, leaning into my hand. “He did?” “Yeah, he did. And you know why they don’t invite you to drink with them. You can’t-” “Get drunk.” He finishes my sentence for me, a gleam shining in his eyes. “But it was pretty funny when I got the video of Kurt drunk off his ass, wailing ABBA on karaoke night.” His sense of humor is returning, and I grin up at him. “He’s never going to forgive you for that one.” I chuckle, moving my hand from his cheek so that it can grip his free hand. He chuckles too, and I feel warmth light up my chest. “And Peter, you know I’d never leave you.” “I know.” He responds almost immediately, pressing his face into the top of my head. “I know, I just get worried sometimes. I’ve lost so many people. Been through so much shit that it just...” He trails off, his words muffled against my hair. “The others on the team care about you Peter, everyone does. You’re basically a son to Charles, and your dad? Who gives two shits about him, the dickhead is a mass murderer. He doesn’t deserve you.” I tell him, and he lifts his face to look at me again.

“Hey! That's my father you’re talking about!” He exclaims quietly, but the light in his eyes tells me he’s joking. “He may be your father, but he’s still an asshole. The only good thing he’s ever done is bring you into this world.” I say sternly. “I don’t know, that time he killed the president was pretty awesome.” He offers, and I force myself to put on the most fed-up face my exhausted brain can create. He laughs fully now, and I feel his chest rumbling as he goes. “Why are you laughing.” I huff, trying my best to sound annoyed despite the smile pressing at my lips. “Because you look so damn cute when you try to look mad at me.” He whispers, and I sigh letting my smile come through and shaking my head. “You’re such a ladies man.” I say mockingly, and he grins at me. “I know, right?” Peter lets another chuckle escape him, before he leans himself down to kiss me. It’s not intense but rather light, soft and subtle, as he uses the one arm he has thrown around me to somehow pull me even closer. I lean into him, and we rest against each other's lips for a long while, just enjoying the presence of one another.

I feel him smiling against my mouth, before he pulls back and looks over me, eyes tracing my face. “I love you.” He says, and I laugh and bury my head in his shirt again. It smells like marshmallows and faint cologne that reminds me of an autumn breeze. It reminds me of home. Peter, my love, my sweet, my everything. You are my home. I don’t voice any of this though, and instead opt for “You smell like marshmallows.” He responds by half-heartedly kicking me under the blanket. “Wow, thanks. I feel so loved right now.” He grumbles, and I look back up to him. “I love you too you big goof. I’d probably love you a lot more if you just let me sleep.” I tell him, and he sighs, letting his head flop on his pillow. “Right sorry, I forgot you’re little miss sleeping beauty. Remind me to wake you up in the morning with a kiss?” He jokes, and I press my face back against his chest. “I know you won’t need the reminder.” I tell him as I settle myself into a comfortable position to sleep in. “You’re right.” He mumbles, and I can tell he’s getting tired too. He adjusts himself, his one arm still flung around me and trying, to no avail, to bring me even closer. Then, Peter settles my head in the crook of his neck, and sighs, clearly feeling comfortable. “Goodnight.” He says, and I smile into his chest. “Goodnight Peter, I’ll see you in the morning.” I tell him, before fading into the lull of sleep. I’m not sure what I dream about, but somewhere running through my dreams I know there is a handsome silver-haired man, who owns my heart, and I know I am loved.

[lesbian-deadpool]

The Assistant

Part One Of Two: To Kill Tony Stark

Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Platonic!Tony x Reader

Words: 2,699

Warnings: Uhhh... Cannon violence? Drinking, mentions of death, dying, and killing. Swearing. Idk. I think that’s it.

Request: For the @ryostephi who donated to the Australian Bushfires. (I’m sorry the tag doesn't work)

Summary: You’re infatuated with a red-headed newcomer. And you’re gonna kill Tony.

A/N: I’m not gonna lie. I had absolutely no idea what to do for this, so I hope this is okay. And I haven't watched IM2 in a while, so forgive me if I get anything wrong. Not proofread. I know there’s not a tone of Nat stuff in this. But there will be more in the next chapter.

(Not my GIF)

***

2011

Tony Stark’s Malliabo house.

10:36 A.M.

You were awoken from your peaceful slumber by your covers being removed from your body, robotically slow. Groaning, you grabbed the edge of your cover, that now sat at your waist. Tugging them back up your body. Fully intending to go back to sleep. That is before they were once again removed from your body, robotically slow.

Groaning louder this time, you finally peaked one of your eyes open for the first time this morning. The metal statue of Dum-E blurred, from your sleepy vision.

“What do you want, Dum-E?” you asked groggily.

“Miss Y/L/N. Mr Stark requests your assistance in his workshop,” Jarvis spoke for the robot.

“What time is it?” you yawned, cuddling into your pillow more.

“It is ten-forty, Miss,” Jarvis’ robotic voice rung throughout the room.

You groaned, “Tell Tony that if I come down there, I’m shoving a bench up his ass.”

The AI was silent for a few moments.

“He said he’s ‘looking forward to it’, Miss.”

Grumbling, you moved to sit on the edge of the bed, about to get up, when Dum-E handed you your pants.

“Oh, thank you Dum-E,” you said surprised. Before continuing with what you were previously going to say, “And what have I told you about calling me ‘Miss’?”

“Then what would you prefer I call you? Your Majesty?” Jarvis suggested.

“Jarvis,” you chided.

“Okay. Very well, Y/N. Shall I tell Mr Stark you’re on your way?”

“Yes. Thank you, Jarvis.”

“It’s a pleasure, as always, Y/N.”

***

“Right Tony, hand me a bench, and pull your pants down,” you said loudly, clapping your hands as you entered his workshop. Stopping dead in your tracks once you saw Pepper- However, it was normal for you to say this stuff in front of her, considering she had to deal with Tony. And you. Both of your antics. A lot of the times she had to deal with Tony, you and your antics together- Happy by her side- Who was also used to this shit-

The thing truly catching you off of your guard, being the gorgeous red-head woman. Standing on Pepper’s other side, holding a clipboard, with a small collection of files upon it, sat in her arm and pressed against her chest. Her dark auburn eyebrows scrunched up as she surveyed you, looking you up and down.

“-Oh, hello pretty stranger!” you greeted her, voice going an octave or two higher, that it’s usual tone.

Realising what you just said, your eyes widened, and you were quick to correct yourself. However unbelievable it may be.

“I didn't call you pretty. That never happened.”

“I’m afraid you did, Y/N,” Jarvis notified you.

“Thanks, Jarvis!”

Finally getting a hold of his stifled laughter, Tony gestured to introduce you.

“Y/N. This is Natalie Rushman, she’s Pepper’s new assistant. Natalie. This is Y/N Y/L/N, one of my best friends.”

Natalie hummed. Raising her head up at you with a small smirk. “Nice to meet you.”

“Uh. Yep.” You nodded. “I don’t want to say anything else, because I don’t want to embarrass myself more.” You smiled.

“How ever will you live this down?” Tony asked sassily.

“Give me five minutes, and I’ll be back to normal.”

“You know what? I don’t doubt that,” Pepper said.

“Hey, Y/N, guess what!” Tony clapped his hands excitedly, moving up and down on the spot.

“What?”

“Natalie kicked Happy’s ass.” Tony pointed to the girl, then gestured to blushing Happy.

“Really?” you asked Natalie, slightly surprised. Her reply being a single nod.

“No, she didn’t,” Happy blatantly lied.

“Uh, yes, she did,” Pepper assured.

“Well, no offence, Natalie,” you started, “But, anybody can kick Happy’s ass.”

She smiled at your little joke, as the Head of Security protested to your words.

At that moment, Natalie turned to Pepper.

“I should be getting back to work now, Miss Potts.”

“Yes, thank you, Natalie.”

With a nod she was off, stopping only once, by your side, turning her face towards you.

“It was really nice to meet you,” she spoke almost sultry.

“Yeah...” you breathed, “You, too.”

Watching as she walked away, the other three amused by your infatuation with the red-head, you had only just met.

Turning back to the others, surprised to see their smug faces. Like they knew something you didn’t. Or something that you would deny.

“What?”

“You love her,” Tony teased, in an almost sing-song voice.

Quickly you grabbed the nearest object upon the bench you were next to, which just so happened to be a bench. Pointing it at the man, you said, “Bend over.”

***

Apparently, the only reason Tony had requested your presence down in his workshop, was so that you could meet the new Assistant. Or as Tony liked to call her now, ‘your future Wife’. But still. He had managed to “convince” you into helping him.

You would be happy to help him, no matter what.

But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t act begrudgingly towards it. And Tony knew that.

That wasn’t the only reason.

Tony needed to tell you something. You were like his family, and he was scared.

“Y/N...” Tony started, his playful demeanour dimming, and you knew it was serious. Whatever it was he wanted to tell you, “I need to yell you something.”

“Okay...” you gently pressed, not wanting to make him close up and never tell you.

“Something. Something’s going wrong... I, umm... the reactor, it’s- I...” He sighed. Not knowing how to get the words out.

“Hey. It’s okay.” Reaching over you grabbed his forearm, squeezing it in a comforting manner. “Take your time. I’m right here.”

“Don’t tell Pepper- Or anyone really. But especially Pep. Okay?”

“I swear.”

“Well... basically... I’m dying.”

“You're what?!” you yelled, jumping to your feet.

Tony followed you, shushing you as he did.

“You’ve got to keep quiet. You swore,” he reminded you.

“But you’re dying,” you whispered softly, shocked to your core, “What-? How?”

“The shrapnel. It’s poisoning me.”

“Shit!” you swore under your breath, a hand coming up to rub at your forehead. Turning back to him you asked, “Can you fix it.”

He said nothing else, only shaking his head solemnly. Which caused your shoulder to drop.

“How long have you got?”

“Not long.”

No more words were spoken for a while after that. You were both too busy holding each other, the hug was tight with fear, afraid if you let go of him he would disappear into the air.

***

“Hey, Rhodey!” you called over to the man, clad in his airforce uniform. You had just gotten done helping Tony out with his inventions... amongst other things.

You felt a little better after Tony had explained everything, but you were still broken-hearted at the news but kept it locked and tight against your chest. Not wanting to cause the Tin Man any more pain. You knew he did felt better too. Finally getting all of that off his chest. To one person at least.

“Hey, Y/N. You seen Tones?”

“Yeah, he should be down in the workshop,” you told him, “Why? He in some trouble?”

“Isn’t he always?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

Rhodey walked down to the workshop, he was here on business, you could tell that much. If the way he walked with a purpose told you anything.

“Can I give you a hand?” you asked, jogging up to Natalie, who had just walked through the door. She busy carrying thick binders, full of imported documents.

Before she could object. You had grabbed most of the binders out of her arms.

Natalie let out a slightly scoffed breath, as you both continued to walk, side by side, towards Natalie’s destination.

“You know I could have done it myself.”

“I know.” You nodded. She hadn’t seemed to be struggling. “But it doesn’t stop me from being chivalrous. Now, does it?”

She laughed. “Yeah. You’ve God chivalry pouring out of your ears, haven't you?”

“Yes, I do. Thank you for noticing.”

As soon as you had dropped the files off at the coffee table, where Natalie and Pepper would be busy working away. Tony walked past you -Rhodey ranting quietly beside him, so only Tony could hear-, lowly humming ‘The Wedding March’ so only you would hear.

You were, so, going to kill him yourself.

***

Tony was smirking over his glass at you, eyes shining with mischief, and that's when you knew something bad was coming.

“So. Natalie?”

She hummed, turning her attention away from the food she was cutting, and to the man, topping his glass up.

“You got a boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

You spread your arms in a ‘what-the-fuck?!’ manner, behind the red-head, Tony being the only one able to you. Face looking that of pure embarrassed shock, your willingness to murder him shining through.

“No.” She shook her head. “Nothing like that.”

“Well, if that’s the case. Maybe you’d like to go out with Y/N, sometime?”

Natalie looked over her shoulder at you.

You, however, were busy gazing up at the ceiling, like it had the most interesting story, the world has ever seen, written upon it. With your hands now on your his. But you still managed to see her lips upturn in a smirk, before her gaze returned to Tony.

“If you don’t mind, Mr Stark,” Natalie started, “I much prefer the people I date to ask me out themselves.” And with that, she took her leave.

“We’ll now you know what to need to do.”

“Kill you?” you asked, voice slightly manic with anger at the man.

“Ask her out.”

You never got the chance to vocalise your reply, because Tony took the same route Natalie did, heading back to his workshop. Leaving you in the kitchen alone with your thoughts. And desire to beat the infamous Iron Man to a pulp.

***

“I hate that guy,” you mumble, disdain on your tongue. Natalie being the only one who heard you, as she was right by your side, walking to where you were meant to watch the race.

“Hammer?” she asked curiously.

“Yep. He’s so full of himself- And not in the way Tony pretends to be.”

“Wow, you really do hate him,” she says, and you're thankful that she brushed past what you said about Tony. But hey, she works for the guy. She can probably tell that a lot of what Tony does is put on as a front so that he won't get hurt.

Sighing at her words, you nod.

“Come on.” Natalie places a hand on your arm. ��The race is about to start.”

“Natalie,” Pepper calls over to he worriedly, making the red-head rush over to her, “Did you know about this?”

You turned to the TV as Natalie spoke to Pepper, seeing the missing billionaire fitted out in a race suit, and jumping into the Stark owned racecar.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” you yelled. Running out of the room.

You were gonna kill him. You were so gonna kill him.

Or he was.

Wait.

Who the fuck is that?!

A large man, with what seemed to be a very light version of the Iron Man suit strapped upon his body. Long chains, acting like whips, yellow with electricity. Cutting up cars like they were nothing but paper.

Tony zoomed past, just as you managed to slip through the chainlink fence separating the crowd and the track. Vaulting over the metal barrier, ignoring the people calling for you to ‘stop’, and that it was ‘dangerous’. When the chain-whip-man, cut Tony’s car in half.

“Holy fuck!” You yelled.

A Rolls Royce screeched up beside you, snapping your attention from Tony rolling away from the destroyed car, to see the driver.

“Get in!” Happy ordered. And so you did. Slipping in beside Pepper. And then you were off again, to help Tony.

Soon enough, Happy had run into the man, successfully trapping him between the expensive car and the protective wall of the track. Narrowly missing Tony, who jumped up onto the chain-link fence to get away.

“Were you aiming for him, or me-?” Tony asked Happy.

“I was trying to scare him.”

“-’Cause I can’t tell.”

All the while you were trying to process everything.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” Pepper screeched at Tony.

“You’re Head Of Security-!”

“GET IN THE CAR!” she cut him off.

And before he could voice his reply, you joined in, “Get in the fucking car, Tony!”

“-I was attacked!”

Repeating this earlier sentence to you, Happy also told Tony to get into the car. But by this point, you were so done, that you just blanked the rest of what they said. Raising a hand to your forehead, and shaking it.

That is until you heard Tony mutter, “First vacation in two years.” Then the door, he had just opened, was sliced in half, by the appearance, still alive man, trying to kill Tony.

At this point, you wished you had put on a seat belt, as Happy started ramming into the man, as Tony asked for his “suitcase”. But was unable to get it, because of Happy’s driving.

You were so done with this shit.

You had begun to reach over, to take the suitcase from Pepper try and hand into Tony easier. When the car was chopped in half, like a knife through hot butter.

“AAA! Fuck!” you yelled, whipping your arm back.

Tony was still asking for his case, as the unknown man continued to chew up the car.

Oh.

Oh, of course.

Why did you expect any less?

The fight was scary. That’s for sure. But you were just glad it was over quickly.

“God...” you uttered, “I need to sleep.”

***

“But the after-party starts now!”

““Holy shit,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes because of the man's behaviour.

“He's hammered,” Natalie spoke, sliding up next to you, “How did he get this bad? He was relatively fine fifteen minutes ago.”

You sighed.

“Yep. That’s Tony for ya.”

After that... let’s just say you lost track of things. You knew you shouldn't have, but you took a walk outside around the pool, getting some much needed fresh air, before you went back in, and tried to talk some sense into the drunk raging genius.

You understood why he was doing this. You really did. That doesn't mean you liked it, though.

When you entered not even ten minutes later, you were welcomed with destruction. People running out the door, Tony, Pepper, Natalie, and Happy nowhere to be seen. And loud crashes coming from the floors above you.

That's when you spotted Natalie and Pepper. Arguing.

What the fuck happened?

They didn’t like each other. You knew that much. But this was new for them.

Rushing over, you hoped to resolve whatever was going on between the two.

“Hey-” You hadn't even got two words out, when suddenly...

You jumped back, as Rhodey -Rhodey? When did he get here?- and Tony tore through the ceiling, landing upon the coffee table, fighting like stupid children. Noticing Natalie taking up a fighting stance in front of you, as Pepper screams.

“Boys!” you yelled. Failing to gain their attention, as they instead of hearing you, and stopping their fighting, decided to crash through walls, knocking the hell out of each other and their metal suits.

This was all too much for you.

So, you did what you did best.

As Pepper ran off towards the fighting “adult men”, and Natalie... going wherever she did.

You left.

You walked out the door and got into your car.

They could handle this themselves. You still had that much faith in them.

But right now. You had something else you needed to do.

***

The bell above the diner’s door rang, alerting the three conversing people to the newcomer.

Surprising to only two of them.

Tony and Natasha’s mouths dropped agape, at what they saw.

You.

Walking straight towards them. SHIELD uniform clasped around your body, the sleeves rolled up, showing your forearms.

Stopping by the table, you slid in, next to Tony. Staring straight into Natasha's green eyes, as the billionaire beside you screeched, “What the fuck?!”

[attackthepinata]

Flirting means Death (I think)

Pairing: Roceit

Word Count: Idk forgot to check, well over 1000 tho

Content & Warnings: Pride!Roman, Sympathetic!Janus, flirting, kissing, food mention, Roman is a smug bitch, Janus is in Love™

A/N: So like this was written at various 2-4 a.m’s throughout the week, so if it really choppy, I’m very sorry. This is just something I’ve kinda been craving for some reason so I wrote it. I don’t think this has any plot or continuity or anything but I’m posting it anyways because it took too damn long to write and I’m not going to let that sit in my drafts so, here you go. I’m sorry in advance.

Janus stumbled into the living room, “He’s flirting with me”

Virgil looked up from his phone and gave him a quizzical brow, “Who?”

Janus’ human cheek was flushed pink, he had a look of what was either disgust or love (maybe a mix of both), and he was rather mishappen. He looked up from his spot on the floor, “Pride”

An uneasiness settles over the room at the mention of the Side, like just by saying his name, he would show up. There was no real downside to him being around, it was just rather awkward.

“Well,” Logan started, “That can mean one of two things. One, he thinks you’re rather handsome and would like to date you. Or, two, he absolutely hates you and wants you to die”

“Those are two entirely opposite scenarios” Virgil commented.

Janus ran a hand over his face and groaned, “I think the second one fits best”

“Yeah, he does seem to really hate you,” Virgil pointed out.

Janus just glared at him and said, sarcastically, “Why thank you, Virgil, for that reassurance”

Virgil smirked, “Just doing my job,” he said as Janus sunk out.

—————————————————————————

Janus has locked himself in his room the rest of the day. It was his best chance on not getting murdered by Pride. He had allowed one person in his room that day and it was Remus. Actually, allowed is a lie. Janus had dropped something under his desk and bent down to find Remus smiling up at him. He didn’t force the Side to leave, and he didn’t mind his company too much.

Right now, Remus was laying on Janus’ bed, head hanging off the side looking at Janus upside down. Janus had seated himself in his office chair, making small talk with the chaotic Side.

“I don’t usually pride myself on being cowardly-” he was cut off by Remus snorting a laugh.

“Pride yourself! Get it? Because-”

“Yeah, I get it. Unintentional”

Janus sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. For some reason, he was so caught up about Pride, and what Logan and Virgil had said. That he was flirting with him, because he hated him. But there was still a slim chance he liked Janus.

Remus have a soft expression and rolled over so he was looking at the snake side properly, “You know, Jan,” Remus said softly, “If I didn’t know any better, you share the same feelings with Roman”

“I- what?” Janus sputtered, “I do not- He doesn’t- I shouldn’t- We could- I-” Remus cocked an eyebrow and Janus. Janus just sighed, “Roman hates me”

Remus let out a loud laugh, “You think he hates you?!” he cackled some more, “Wow! I guess love really does blind people!”

Janus looked up from his spot on the ground, “Wait, what?”

Remus jumped off the bed, “Well I gotta go now. It was nice talking with you J-Anus, why don’t we do this more often?” he said before sinking out.

Janus sighed and called after him, “That’s not how you pronounce my name!”

He groaned and buried his face in his hand. He couldn’t keep hiding in his room to avoid Pride. Though, the consistent thought of him was better than not being able to form a sentence as a tall handsome man dressed in dark clothing is towering over you saying your scales look pretty when they shimmer in the dark.

Oh, Janus was dead. Either it was because Pride took his sword and drove it through his heart or because he was so lovestriken that he would collapse.

What Remus had said didn’t help with his thoughts either. How could Roman possibly like him, he saw Janus as a villain. Maybe he did manipulate him once or twice, but the majority of that wasn’t a lie. When he did compliment him, he meant it… and there seemed to be a double use in complimenting someone. But Roman would never believe that.

Janus was suddenly pulled away from his thoughts when he heard a low grumble. He rested a hand over his stomach, and groaned for the eighteenths time that day. He needed something to eat.

He looked over at the time. 1:02 A.M. Surely Roman would be asleep right now, so Janus had nothing to worry about.

He got up from his chair and slipped out of his room down to the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re avoiding me” a voice said from the shadows.

Janus jumped and stifled a scream. He turned to see a figure leaning against the wall, red eyes seemingly glowing in the shadows.

Janus let out his breath and tried to relax, “Pride” he said rather evenly.

“Deceit,” he returned smoothly, “What are you doing out here so late?”

Janus shrugged and fixed the capelet around his shoulders, “Midnight snack,” he answered quite honestly, “You?”

Roman stepped out from the shadows, eyes toning down from red to a softer brown. He unfolded his arms and let them rest at his sides as he said, “Just couldn’t sleep” Something flashed behind his eyes but Janus didn’t detect a lie nor did he push.

He just cleared his throat and turned to start back down towards the kitchen, “Well, it was nice seeing you, Roman. I’ll be off now”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Roman said disapprovingly while grabbed Janus’ wrist, spinning him back to face him… or to stare at his chest. Janus let out a small squeak of surprise at the sudden movement. Roman spoke again, “You didn’t answer my first question, are you or are you not avoiding me?”

“Well, see, when you first said it, it wasn’t really a question, it rather more of a statement that I was able to contradict…” he trailed off as he fought his gaze up from the centre of Roman’s chest to his face. Where he gave Janus a rather quizzical and smug look. Janus immediately stopped talking and shot his gaze back down to the dark red sash. He was way too obvious, but that smug smirk that Roman gave him just shut down all of his senses.

Roman let out a low chuckle at the sight of the flustered Side. he was still holding Janus’ wrist too. Actually, he was holding both of them. Janus didn’t realize when he did so, until he let go of it. He placed a finger underneath Janus’ chin a directed his gaze back up towards his face. Janus’ breath hitched at the contact.

“Are you or are you not avoiding me?” Roman asked again, a bit more clearly this time.

“I…” Janus trailed off again, trying to look away from Roman’s gaze. Eyes shooting from different places along the walls and behind the taller side.

He was suddenly brought back to reality, when he felt a thumb travelling up the jaw if the human side of his face. He looked back at Roman, who raised an eyebrow at the smaller Side, still wait for a response.

“No” Janus fought out a lie.

Roman didn’t seem to notice the lie, he just gave him a satisfied smirk and said, “Good”

Janus stared helplessly up at Roman. His had was still holding his wrist, and his finger was still under his chin, keeping his head and gaze up at the taller Side.

“You have such clear skin” Roman said, studying the human side of Janus’ face.

“I moisturize” Janus replied sheepishly at the compliment.

Roman softly smiled at the comment, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards.

“Breathtakingly beautiful,” he murmured, meeting Janus’ mismatched gaze again.

Janus’ face heated up, “You sure know how to compliment someone” he said as smoothly as he could muster.

“Learned from the best” Roman replied, alluding to Janus himself.

Janus’ gaze softened. And he remembered what Logan had said, that Roman was flirting with him because he wanted Janus dead. Maybe if Janus tried to apologize, “Listen, Roman, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t mean to?” Roman cut him off, “You weren’t trying to hurt me? And you’re sorry? Yeah, I’ve heard that speech multiple times”

Janus moved his eyes down in shame. There was nothing he could say. Roman would probably drive his sword into Janus any minute now.

“Don’t worry, though,” Roman whispered, moving his face closer to Janus, that there’s were almost touching, “I forgive you”

Janus lifted his gaze up to meet Roman’s. He was…astonished. Roman was never one for forgiving. His soft brown eyes spoke truth.

Roman chuckled at Janus’ shocked face. And the next thing Janus knew, was that his lips were on Roman’s and Janus’ eyes had fluttered closed.

Janus was up against the wall, Roman passionately kissing him back. Roman’s hands had migrated to his hips, and Janus was holding Roman’s elbows.

Roman pulled away after a bit, and brought his hand back up to Janus’ face, cupping it.

Janus’ eyes fluttered open to meet Roman’s find one. Janus spoke, “But I thought,” he sucked in a breath, “I thought you hated me”

Roman chuckled a bit at the statement, “Maybe just a little bit,” he said before kissing Janus again.

They were back again in the middle of the hallway, Janus’ hands on Roman’s chest, and Roman’s hands cupping Janus’ face.

They pulled away from each other’s lips, soft smiles adorned on their faces. Roman laughed as he moved his hands away from Janus’ face, and to his head, plucking the hat off his head and putting it on his head.

“You are officially forgiven,” he said with a large smile, fixing the hat atop of his head. He then softly nudged Janus back in the direction of the kitchen, “Now as much of a snack as I may be, you’re probably still hungry. So go get yourself something to eat or whatever” he said before turning in his heels and disappearing down the hallway.

Janus stood frozen in the hallway for a few more minutes before muttering a soft, “Right” and turning to go get food.

——————————————————————————

The next morning, or the same morning a few hours later, Janus woke up to a bouquet of roses. He picked them up, and noticed they had a note attached.

It said,

To my snake faced friend,

Thank you for the hat and the kiss. They’re almost as half as wonderful as you are.

- Prince Roman

Light or Dark, the Prince did not loose any of his signature touches, including his cheesiness. Janus smiled as he set them down again, before it him.

Memories of what had happened, flooded back to him now. He could have sworn it was a dream but the proof that it actually happened was sitting right in front of him.

He quickly got dressed into his regular clothes (minus his hat of course) and popped up in the living area, where Virgil, Logan and Remus were all sitting.

They all looked up from their various activities to see Janus, eyes wide with realization, standing there.

He finally looked up from his spot on the floor and said, “He kissed me”

[thewhumperinwhite]

Café: Forest

Previous: Teaser 1, Teaser 2, Hospital/Squad Car, Empty Bar, Used Car Lot 1, Used Car Lot 2, Gas Station, Roadside 1, Roadside 2.

Kent and Pax have incompatible methods for coping with trauma. Sol tries to make due with the trio’s one communal brain cell.

TW for: suicidal ideation which is not handled particularly well by companions, Kent gets triggered and doesn’t explain that to anyone, referenced past domestic abuse, gore, eye horror, terrible communication skills, Sol is trying his fucking best but nobody does a great job here, Vehicular Horror (as in many zombies get run over by cars idk how to warn for that exactly)

@whumpitywhumpwhump

Continues directly from Roadside 2.

Sol stares at Pax, revulsion rising in the back of his throat, but he’s honestly startled when Kent is suddenly on his feet and shoving Pax in the chest.

Pax stumbles back from Kent, who is suddenly his full six feet, eyes blazing.

“You goddamn bastard!” Kent screams. “How the hell could you— I might still have been able to— “

Pax slaps him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Pax says, their voice low and dangerous. “What, you think that was super easy for me, you spoiled little shithead? You think I liked that?” Pax is shorter than Kent, almost certainly, but their slap bowled Kent halfway over, and he hasn’t straightened, his hair hiding his face. “We all. Wanted. To help,” Pax snarls. “But we’re not all trying to feed ourselves to zombies, you dumb asshole, you don’t get to decide that for the rest of us. I’ve got my own reasons for wanting you to get where you’re going but I will not die for you, you got that? You want to be a martyr, go do it someplace else.” He rounds on Sol. “And what the hell is your problem?”

Sol, who has been tugging on Paxon’s sleeve, points.

“Oh, fuck me,” says Paxon.

It’s hard to really make them out in just the truck’s headlights, but there are at least three figures standing at the edge of the trees on the other side of the road. Backing up to stand behind Paxon— he’s pretty sure he’s past the point of being ashamed of himself— Sol spots a fourth. And— there’s a fifth, too.

“Back in the car?” Sol prompts, a tad desperately.

“Back in the car,” Pax agrees, taking a step toward the truck.

Sol reaches down to pick up his bat from the asphalt, and as soon as he closes his hand around it one of the figures breaks from the others and lurches at a jerking, unsteady run toward the circle of headlights.

“Shit!” Sol squawks, stumbling backwards, but Paxon, their sword swishing smoothly out of its sheath, surges forward to meet the man and slices through his neck in one clean swipe.

“There a reason you two idiots ain’t running yet?” they growl over their shoulder, and Sol shakes his head clear and takes off toward the truck, grabbing hold of Kent’s collar on the way past and dragging him along.

Kent stumbles after him, his head still bowed, and finally croaks, “Wait, we— we can’t just leave them to— “

“I think they got this,” Sol snaps, and glances over his shoulder to see Pax spin to neatly decapitate a second running, bloody-eyed figure. “‘Sides,” he goes on, a bit snidely, yanking the driver’s side door open, “how exactly were you gonna help without a weapon, genius?”

Kent climbs into the back seat, not meeting Sol’s eyes. He’s breathing heavy, and his hands are in tight, shaking fists in his lap. 

It occurs to Sol that he has now seen Kent slapped twice in the very short time he’s known him. There’s no time to think about that now, but it— maybe bears examination later.

“You know how to drive, right?” Kent mutters, at the floor of the truck.

“‘Course I do,” Sol snaps, throwing the car in reverse and taking a deep breath. “Mostly!”

He rolls his window down. “Coming on your left, Pax!”

Paxon pauses with their sword in the stomach of a very large man whose eyes have spilled out in bloody streams down his cheeks— Sol gags a little before he makes himself focus on driving— to glare at the truck over their shoulder, and then they readjust their grip and slice the man clear in half, before swinging their sword straight down through one of his ruined eyes. Sol sees Kent wince and throw a hand over his mouth in the rearview mirror.

“Take your time,” Paxon calls, sword flashing. There’s beginning to be kind of a large pile of bodies around them. “I’m enjoying myself out here.”

“Wow,” Sol says, focusing on reversing the car in such a way that he will not run Paxon over. He does his best to ignore the sickening lurch of the car as it rolls over one body, then two. “You really pissed them off.”

Kent glares at the floor of the truck. Yeah, they’re going to have to have a long conversation about this later, assuming they can actually get out of this.

When the truck rolls to a stop beside them, Paxon yanks the passenger side door open and climbs in, turning as they do so to shove their sword straight into a lunging man’s open mouth and up into his brain.

“Uh—” Sol swallows. “You good?”

“If you are,” they snap, settling into their seat and slamming the door closed.

“We, uh, we are, we’re—” He clears his throat awkwardly. Kent is still glaring at the floor, and Paxon is staring out the window, which a woman with blood running down her chin is now throwing herself against. “We’re great. Yeah.”

Sol puts the car clumsily into drive and slams his foot down on the gas, apparently a bit too hard.

A small dark figure is illuminated by the headlights for a second before they disappear under the truck’s tires. Sol forces himself to keep his eyes on the road and orders himself not to think about it.

He almost swerves to avoid the next one, but Paxon reaches over and puts their hand on the wheel.

“Just hit ‘em,” they say in a low, flat voice. “It doesn’t make a damn difference either way.”

Kent makes a horrified sound from the backseat, and winces badly when the car thumps over the woman’s body.

“Uh,” Sol squawks.

“Look at ‘em,” Pax says. “They’re running right at the damn tires. They don’t give a fuck what happens to them, so why should we, huh?” They look straight forward through the windshield, and don’t look at Kent, who Sol can see jolt in the backsea; Kent tangles a hand in his own hair and pulls it, hard; Sol winces.

The next one Sol hits leaps right at the front of the car and slides up onto the hood, hitting the windshield with a sick crack. Kent squeezes his eyes shut, and Pax glares straight ahead, though their hands tighten into fists on their bloody pant legs.

“Um,” Sol says. “Are we gonna talk about this, or...?”

“No,” Kent says flatly.

“Ain’t a damn thing to talk about,” Pax snaps.

Sol rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah, right, fine. My bad.”

The last one is another woman, and the headlights catch in her blonde hair for a second, and Sol can’t help but swerve to avoid her. He very carefully does not look at Paxon, who scowls at him.

Finally he rolls his eyes and shoots Paxon a glare, and then he glances up at the rear view mirror to include Kent in it, too. “I’m not picking sides here, okay? I think y’all are both fuckin’ nuts.”

Pax pouts. Kent does too, a little bit.

“First of all,” Sol says, “fucking cool it with the martyr complex a little, okay, Kent? Jesus.” Kent flinches, and opens his mouth to protest, but Sol holds up one hand for silence, keeping the other carefully on the wheel. “And you,” he says, rounding on Paxon. “It’s great that you swept to our rescue, and everything, but fucking forgive us for being a little slower to adjust to the whole ‘zombie apocalypse so murder is okay now’ thing, dude. We’re not all fucking naturals like you apparently are.”

“I saved your life,” Paxon says shortly.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sol says uncomfortably. “And, like. Thanks? But do you for real not get how watching you cut a bunch of people’s heads off does not make us more likely to trust you, man?”

“Oh, Christ, not you too,” Paxon snaps, swinging their sword off their back and slamming it down at their feet. “Do neither of you kids get it yet? The world has changed. Y’all’s idealism or whatever is cute, but it’s also gonna get you both killed.” They reach out and shove at Sol’s shoulder, although not very hard. They don’t even look angry anymore, not really, just— tired. “You’re not supposed to trust me, dumbass. You listen, okay, both of you. I do not require that you trust me. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. And I’m not gonna trust you. And then none of us are gonna be disappointed. Okay?”

Sol blinks, feeling kind of confused and— weirdly hurt. “Uh— yeah, fine. Yeah.”

“Don’t worry,” Kent says, sharply. “We won’t.”

Pax turns back to glare at him. “Well good,” they say with their teeth bared. “You shouldn’t.”

Then they both turn and glare out opposite windows.

The tension is so thick that for a second Sol is almost glad when the engine emits a sharp pop and a puff of smoke and the truck begins to roll to a stop.

“Aw, shit,” Sol says, trying to gun the engine. “Aw, shit, no, not now—”

Paxon presses their hands over their eyes and makes a noise that sounds like it would be a scream if their teeth weren’t clenched. Kent leans forward between the passenger and driver’s seats to watch the plume of smoke drift upwards from the engine.

“Either of you know how to fix that?” he says flatly.

“I know how to hotwire cars, not fix them, man,” Sol says, flopping back in his seat and closing his eyes.

Kent hesitates. “...Paxon?”

Paxon removes one hand from their face long enough to give Kent the finger. “Fuck you, blondie, I can’t do everything around here.”

Kent frowns at the dashboard as if he can somehow guilt the engine beneath into running again. “Oh,” he says. There isn’t really much else to say.

There’s a long and very pregnant pause. Paxon massages their temples. Sol counts to ten, twice, and tries without much success to regulate his heart rate. Kent fidgets and turns in his seat to look out the back window.

“Um,” he starts, unconsciously tapping the back of Paxon’s chair like an impatient five-year-old. “I don’t think you quite— got all of them,” he says hesitantly.

Paxon takes in a long breath and then lets it out, and then they drop their hands and toss their long red ponytail. “Yeah, yeah,” they say, yanking the door handle with a little more force than necessary. “It was getting a little cramped in here, anyway.”

“H-hey— hold on!” Sol yelps, reaching for their sleeve. “Are you out of your fucking mind? We can’t go out there!”

They’re already on their feet outside the truck and repositioning their sword on their back. “Yeah, well, it would also be pretty dumb of us to stay in here and get surrounded. Rein in your underage martyr and let’s jet, babe.” They shoot Sol a shiny and very fake grin and cross in front of the truck toward the woods, boot heels clicking against the pavement. They swing their sword out of its sheath as they go and the metal glints alarmingly in the light from the headlights.

Sol frowns after them, feeling... more intimidated than he wants to.

“I hate to say it,” he mumbles at the back of Kent’s head— the blonde is kneeling on the back seat and staring out the back window— “but I think they’re probably kind of right, man. You coming?”

Kent is silent for a moment, watching the vague forms milling about in the darkness behind the truck.

“Hey,” Sol says, reaching out for his shoulder. “...Kent?”

Kent winces when Sol’s fingertips brush his coat collar, and then he looks down at his hands and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “sorry”.

“Huh?” Sol retracts his hand hastily. That was a bad idea. In fact, it didn’t happen. He 100% did not notice Kent shaking and reach out to comfort him like somebody’s goddamn mother.

“I said, ‘you’re right,’” Kent says, turning to give him a shaky smile.

Sol blinks at him, debates calling him a liar, reaches for the car door instead. “Yeah, sure, whatever, man. Let’s just— let’s go.”

The sky is starting to spit rain, and Paxon is waiting for them with their hand on their hip and and expression of almost violent impatience on their face. They raise an eyebrow at Sol and pointedly do not look at Kent. “You took your sweet time,” they say tightly.

Kent, hugging himself a little against the cold dankness of the air, raises a hand to catch a few raindrops and frowns up at the sky. “It’s raining.”

Paxon frowns at him, and then rolls their eyes, turns on their heel and stomps off into the trees. “Yes, sunshine, it is. Thank you for pointing that out.” They sneer at him over their shoulder. “At least you’ve got your looks, kid.”

Kent wrinkles his nose at them, following. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that,” he says, a few slivers of ice in his voice. “I’m flattered, I guess, but you’re actually not my type, Paxon.”

“Now there’s a surprise,” Paxon says, rolling their eyes.

“Oh my god, you guys,” Sol runs a hand through his hair and tries to focus on not tripping over tree roots. The woods are getting thicker, and Pax is walking very quickly. “Will you please shut the fuck up.”

Kent grumbles, but shuts his mouth. Pax picks up their pace slightly, the ass.

The drizzle is turning into something more like a downpour, now, and still companionable silence is apparently too much to ask.

“What I meant,” Kent snaps after five blissful minutes of nobody snapping at anybody else, “was that it is raining, and we have no shelter, or changes of clothing, or food, or— or anything.”

“Some of us have weapons,” Paxon says sweetly. “That’s not nothing.”

Kent huffs. “I’m sure that’ll be a great comfort when we’re— what, huddled in trees, freezing to death?”

Sol wrinkles his nose. His own coat, while thick enough to stop the old man’s teeth, is not waterproof and is starting to get kind of heavy with rainwater. By morning it’ll probably smell like a wet sheep, too. Kent might be okay in his oversized black coat, but Paxon’s poncho and leather jacket don’t look warm at all, and they’re certainly not waterproof.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s, uh, a fair point. Do you have, like, a plan, Pax?”

Pax turns on their heel, half-skipping along backwards, dancing over the rough ground in a way that doesn’t really seem fair. “Plans are for squares, kid. Everyone knows that.”

Kent glares at them, discomfort written clear across his face. Sol looks from Kent’s shaky irritation to the tight, tense set of Paxon’s shoulders and their white-knuckled grip on their sword.

“We’re all gonna die,” he says flatly.

[vaguely-concerned]

Let’s Read Victory of Eagles; the Prepare to Cry About William Laurence Edition

earlier temeraire let’s reads (yes I’m sticking with it)

- oh man starting with temeraire’s pov is such a good call, I don’t know if I could take getting plunged straight into laurence’s misery without some (very slight) levity first 

- lol and also crey @ laurence gently reminding these young guys how to keep him prisoner 

- temeraire on his way to revolutionize dragon politics after one damn month... I’m so proud ;___; on the other hand him thinking laurence is dead is... nope not processing this laurence is fine let’s not worry about it

- SURPRISE THARKAY! BEST KIND OF SURPRISE 

looool he just keeps coming to get laurence and finding him embroiled in some fresh catastrophe... I’m sorry ur bro is in another castle/war camp/ship wreck/prison tharkay you’re a champ for tracking him down again and again

- He has a new birb!!! good stuff. this part of them walking through the quiet ruined town is really striking too

- laurence feels like he can be just himself for the first time in months huh... cool cool cool

- “You and Temeraire would be welcome in other parts of the world. You may recall there is some semblance of civilization,” he added dryly, “in a few places, beyond the borders of England.”

fsdakhfdasdfsaflj a) I love him so much b) I  g u e s s  Tharkay kind of just asked Laurence to run away with him in his low-key sardonic way... super triple extra cool cool cool extremely admirable even if he and everyone else in the world knows it to be doomed 

resting his hand on his shoulder because he knows Laurence is gonna be Laurence about this... yeah okay just punch me in the heart

- tfw the guy you sort of have a thing for is determined to get himself killed for a government you feel exactly zero personal loyalty to and now you have to watch his back 🙄

- lol laurence is like ‘I’m not gonna start a fistfight’ 

five minutes later: granby pulls laurence out of a fistfight he started because someone talked shit about his dragon

- aw demane and sipho! good boys bein’ good boys 

- temeraire reciting principia mathematica to himself and changing his voice so he can pretend it’s laurence reading to him... that is under the belt naomi novik that is just mean

(all the funnier/more heartbreaking for knowing laurence has no fucking idea what he’s reading out loud when it comes to that book and would never have touched it if temeraire didn’t love it so much)

- “Oh,” Temeraire said, and sat back on his haunches. He was not quite sure what to say. “I am very sorry?” he offered, uncertainly. He supposed it must be very unpleasant to be a coward.

fjfjghfgj how is he so darling

- tbh perscitia is very much me when it comes to fighting; I too am small and slow and cripplingly overly aware of all the ways things can go wrong which everyone seems happy to overlook

- as a professional tharkay spotter: he is in fact present in the proceedings right now, he arrived at the same time as granby and had one (1) line of dialogue! I am not sure why everyone’s talking about this napoleon fella instead of specifying to me what precise dragon he hitched a ride with or what kind of babysitter arrangement he has put in place for his birb but y’know I’ll take what I can get

(there is a peculiar sort of satisfaction in getting reeeeaaal attached to a side character; this reminds me a lot of being nine and scrupulously scanning every page of a harry potter book for mentions of sirius, no matter how peripheral or inconsequential) 

- all of temeraire’s dragons are pure gold tbh, I especially like majestatis and his laconic competency (I may have a type)

- temeraire not getting why laurence isn’t responding to him quite as he should and laurence basically getting his affairs in order... William Laurence if you break both our hearts I will never fucking forgive you this is my stern voice

- adding a second (and tonally very different) pov is such a genius move at this point in the story; it really breathes new life into everything. 

- lady allendale is the real mvp, you can really see a lot of laurence’s good sides in a straight line from her to him

- oooooooooooooooooooooh roland dropping some truth bombs on laurence for being so very very honorable and so very very dumb

thank you jane I guess at least he’s pretty

- having to read laurence trying to convince all the people who love him to basically let him kill himself is extremely upsetting and I Do Not Care for it

- temeraire absent-mindedly putting ‘coming up with some way to let laurence live as long as me’ on his ‘to do’ list is Everything

but also he doesn’t even realize how wrong things are with his captain and I want to curl up in a ball. no bb no one is going to take him but he’s halfway through taking himself out :(

(I will say that there’s something about laurence’s incredible inflexibility and self loathing that is very relatable, which is probably why I’m so mad at him and also so scared for him. incidentally one of hanzo’s traits I really identify with. anyway onwards)

- ah of course granby was kidnapped I was wondering when something bad would happen to him in this book

- “You are not obliged -- ” Laurence began.

“No,” Tharkay agreed civilly, with one raised brow, and Laurence bowed and left it there. 

fdsfdklsalkjhfkjasdhfjkadshdsfhksdfjakh how... how can anyone be so impossibly lovely and so sarcastic in one word... my heart feels so full

but also ow b/c I think tharkay does see the state laurence is in and it must be extremely stressful to look out for all the swords your bro is determined to throw himself on 

- oF ALL THE DOORSTEPS IN ALL OF LONDON THEY HAD TO END UP AT LAURENCE’S EX’S how many mirrors has this poor man broken to end up here 

- oh uh wow I think I just murdered woolvey’s shitty racist ass with my mind I never even knew I had the power

- Tharkay seeming to suss out the whole Situation here at a glance... *prayer hands emoji*

-  Tharkay shook his head, and when Laurence looked at him said quietly: “It must be difficult to follow an officer of public repute, in the affections of a woman who loves courage.”

...

“My reputation is hardly one any sensible man would covet.”

“It does not name you a coward,” Tharkay said. “Whatever has Bertram Woolvey done?”

as observed completely impartially except for that one awful enormous crush he is developing lol

- oh no... woolvey died... this is... terrible.... *insert ‘shocked’ captain kirk reaction image here*

okay it does put edith in a genuinely awful situation, which super sucks. everything around her is like the one part of laurence’s self loathing that is sort of justified: he’s been making her life so much harder for so long. first she had to worry about her not-even-husband-yet getting lost at sea and he seems pretty emotionally distant, for all that he can be sweet, then he adopts a dragon and she is SUCH AN AFTERTHOUGHT to him in that process (because, as I have discussed earlier, william laurence should just not ask people to marry him b/c he never. actually. means. it. he just thinks he should I think)

and then, after finally disentangling herself emotionally from that she manages to marry a dude who’s a twit, but a twit who by all appearances treats her well and she’s happy -- and then Laurence shows up for three fucking hours and her HUSBAND IS SHOT DEAD 

most of laurence’s guilt is the useless self-flagellation of depression, but in this one case I’m a bit more ‘yeah okay valid bro’

- Laurence’s tendency to describe, in minute detail, what some dude is wearing even under the most dire of circumstances is so endearing. (also he barely ever does it with women; usually it’s like ‘and she was wearing idk a dress?’ lol)

- laurence’s superpower is inspiring people’s affection and loyalty and then wondering why they’re all not cool with him throwing himself off a cliff

- is tharkay like basically a scottish lord on his dad’s side and has been fucked over by either the system or the rest of his family. are you fucking kidding me jfksadflsadfj

- oh. oh okay that’s the king that’s super extra salt in the wound for our golden boy :I

- NOOOOOOOOOOO TEMERAIRE THINKS LAURENCE MIGHT BE ANGRY WITH HIM!!!!!! LAURENCE YOU BEAUTIFUL USELESS DUMBASS PLEASE SNAP OUT OF YOUR DEPRESSION LONG ENOUGH TO TELL YOUR DRAGON SON YOU’RE NOT ANGRY WITH HIM OR SO HELP ME I’LL... CRY AT YOU I GUESS

- okay so this is all very bleak and... borderline war crime-y and laurence is clearly In A Bad Way but also demane has just put every scrap of clothing he could find on his little brother, who now can barely walk for all the layers but is presumably nice and warm, and my heart is doing strange things in my chest

- “Laurence, what are you doing?” 

*ELMO SURROUNDED IN FLAMES GIF* MY BOY THARKAY BEING THE REAL MVP ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

this whole scene is so brief but so good fkdslahfaklsdhfaskld laurence literally slipping back out of dissociation and noticing the smells and sounds around him again... this is So Much, tharkay you fucking miracle of a man  

- there is something incredibly interesting about how laurence is just viscerally terrified by the things tharkay seems to represent to him -- that’s at least twice now that he’s thought straight out, in pretty much the same words, that tharkay’s way of living seems achingly lonely and untethered and frightening to him. (the first time is in black powder war, just as he’s about to give the offer of friendship that tharkay seems equal parts confused and touched by lol) laurence has this intense need to be part of something bigger than himself and doesn’t trust himself to know what’s right (...even tho he’ll historically still occasionally go off and do The Right Thing despite orders anyway because he’s a beautiful idiot), while tharkay obviously puts freedom and autonomy faaaar above any of that (understandably, from his background lol) 

and still it’s exactly this dude who woke laurence up to himself again and reminded him who he really is. this is the man he knew he’d be ‘sorrier to lose than yet I know’ and gooooddamn if he wasn’t right about that. I’m not ready to be coherent about it yet but uh wow this is A Lot

- the way novik writes laurence dissociating is. a bit too close to home, I’m not thrilled about this haha 

- LAURENCE IS TALKING TO HIS DRAGON SON AGAIN AND I CAN FINALLY BREATHE THANK YOU THARKAY

- also let me specify that tharkay coming in and ending laurence’s breakdown by just showing him that he, y’know. doesn’t have to commit borderline war crimes if he doesn’t want to is... yeah. when he’s like ‘yeah no bro I like you and all but this is fucked up I’m out’ and Laurence slowly puts the pieces together and goes ‘...that... is an option? F U C K’  is the Good Stuff (I’m being flippant about it but also I really mean it lol)  

- temeraire is giving the french uniforms the side eye for being boring and admiring the kilts... god bless him, focusing on the real things on the eve of battle

- gOD lien is so fucking COOL, celestial who actually knows wtf she’s doing OP pls nerf

ETA: also I’ve looked up some spoilers for the rest of this series (b/c there’s a couple of characters now who I’m so attached to that if they die I don’t even fucking care anymore lol), and apparently they never get to fight lien/meet her for too long again and can I just say... What The Fuck, why would you come up with such a compelling antagonist and not use her???  

- Tharkay, straight(hah)-faced: yeah I’m coming with you to australia on this prison ship nbd just curious about it that’s all 

Laurence, blinking back tears, barely getting the words out: cool bro 

(I think laurence has been like. crying or on the verge of crying in every single scene he and tharkay have been alone in this entire book. tharkay saw laurence through an ugly ugly divorce (with the government of england if not the land) and is still going with him to fucking australia. that’s how you know it’s love tbh, he’s done for)

also for the meme: AND THEY WERE SHIPMATES! OH MY GOD THEY WERE SHIPMATES!

ALSO also: tharkay getting granby a drink fdsafjsalkdjfh best boy, best friend 

- not connected to anything but I do appreciate that laurence is a rare extremely extroverted protagonist. he just really needs people around him and sort of wilts when he’s isolated, whether by circumstance or his own Stuff.  

- Oh man I really liked this one! the pacing worked better than the last one, the dual pov really shook things up, the new dragon characters were cool and Laurence had a lot of character development that has been in the cards since book 1, even if it was really upsetting while it happened. and Tharkay was there a lot, which is the surest way to my heart at this point, to be fair.