#honestly whatever. people are fine i'm fine i'm safe and the nightmares are stupid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beetlebug-bii · 11 months

Note

can you maybe also do Mammon with nightmares Bug?

Authors Note: absolutely starling! I hope you're ready for more silly writing!

Content Warnings: Cussing, Mammon Mammoning

Requests Open!

Mammon's Nightmares

TLDR: Mammon has trauma and needs a hug my friends but also he is the most crackhead brother and I love him

Mammon's nightmares are...

Honestly probably some of the sadder ones

While Lucifer dreams of dozens of different terrible things, Mammon's nightmares all concentrate in one place

And that's you and his brothers

Yeah he feels guilty about Lilith, he misses the little shit every day

And yeah, he also is scared of Michael and father but...

The thing that really digs at him is the idea of his brothers and you actually just...hating him

Like yeah they all say it

But only half of him believes it's true!

He and his brothers used to be so close...

He and Lucifer were practically inseparable, he and Levi were best gaming buds, he was always there to help Asmo, he practically helped raise Satan and the triplets...

And then there's you and oh my stars does he just adore you

From your personality to your looks to that starry gaze you hold just for him he just cannot get enough

Usually, he sleeps fine, you are always there to reassure him and he typically dreams of his marriage with you, Goldie, and his baby coins with little faces which by technicality could totally be nightmares

(note, mammon needs to stop thinking of money as people in his dreams, it's really starting to freak him out-)

But on the nights you aren't there well...

The two of you sleeping in the same bed happened long before you two were actually together

You were awoken on countless nights by the creek of the door and nervous footsteps before he found his way under the covers

You would ask him what was wrong and he would remain silent, tracing the lines of your hands with his fingers

After a while, he would ask if you thought he was stupid, worthless, or any number of other absolutely heartbreaking things that clearly came from a bad dream...

Eventually, he just couldn't seem to get a wink of sleep without you. Like he would be absolutely vibing with his hot girl racecar bed (its secret, its in his closet, shhh don't tell anyone)

And then he would fall asleep and have the most mind shattering nightmare

Like bro get ur ass in his racecar bed okay?

Like you're his emotional support human what are you doing slacking off

"oh I'm sleeping in my own bed"

Uh, no, he doesn't want to hear it.

If you're in your bed, so is he

Watch yourself

He's YOUR parasite

Smh

Still though nowadays in your relationship when he has a nightmare he is honestly a mix between heartbroken and absolutely OFFENDED

LIKE HOE

WHEN HE SAID

"I cant get a good nights sleep without ya, you're like...my home and you make me feel safe...or whatever..."

HE MEANT THAT SHIT

MOVE YOUR ASS HE IS GETTING IN BED

YOU TWO ARE CUDDLING NOW IT IS

M A N D A T O R Y

ARE YOU COMFY

wait no seriously are you comfy he has to know

Do you need a snack or some water-

Yeah he may have been the one with the nightmare, but you are his precious human and he needs to make sure you're okay

So the two of you cuddle and chat, cracking jokes, every so often you mention things like wanting to marry him just to watch him stutter and fumble

Both of you are so cozy too

you might be in your bed, you might be in the racecar pretending to run from the cops

you might be in the racecar actually running from the cops MAMMON WHY CAN YOU DRIVE YOUR BED

Regardless Mammon feels safe with you and you never manage to fail at making him feel better

Like its gotta be a skill at this point

"I love ya Mc" he would tiredly yawn in your ear, part of him wanting to just put his tongue in there out of spite

he doesn't though

You're having a moment

You whisper it back

You shove your tongue in his ear

he screams.

Fucker.

Romance💕

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me mammoney

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aquamoonchaii · 3 years

Text

•• genre: fluff, angst

•• warning: mentions of alcohol

•• pairing: xiaojun x fem! reader

•• wc: 1.4k

•• collab: Resonance Beach by @amorajae

•• charlie's notes: enjoy this cheesy piece <3

•• summary: you two choose the worst time to argue and separate each other for a while so xiaojun is now a party pooper and he is a sappy drunk asshole. did he even understand what you said that night?

“He is the luckiest asshole in the whole resort.”

“Not as lucky as me, remember I won the tickets to get here in the first place.” YangYang brags and a couple of mocking “thank you sir” echo the room.

“But really, who the fuck brings this alcoholic to his room?” Hendery questions and the man in question scoffs, sitting up just to find all the idiots gathered around him.

"Are you really talking about me….around me?" SiCheng, without a word, grabs his face like searching for something then proceeds to grab his hands and puts them up as he is shirtless. "He is complete, no organs removed or bruises. This guy right here is indeed lucky." Xiaojun furrows his eyebrows as SiCheng gives him a slap on the back, stands up and leaves as everyone follows him talking about what they should have for breakfast but the only rational one stays.

Kun rolls his eyes at his hungover friend when handing him a glass of water with pills he got there. "You know this resort masters at wild parties and strong liquor so why are you drinking so much? The blackout thing and being lightheaded are not sexy nor a good combination."

"I'm a grown man, it's fine."

" I know, that's why no one follows you."

"Don't lie, I heard the bartender calling you."

"...maybe. But that's not the point, how do you even get here?" XiaoJun groans because it's too early for this and he is hungry, thinking how he wants to go home and be at peace. "Whatever, just don't die DeJun. Do you have any news?"

He lowers his head and shakes it, no one really mentions it as they promised to shut up about it hoping he shuts up and enjoy.

Xiaojun indeed has been quiet but drinks one beer and he is sobbing about Y/N once again. Goddamnit. It's been a week of him drowning in his tears and three days of him drowning in alcohol, his friend is really heartbroken and he secretly wonders if this type of codependency is actually good for him.

Kun bites his hand to not call you and ask what happened because XiaoJun won't talk about the whole stuff. You two were basically glued to each other since you started dating and it was a bit awkward but XiaoJun looked happier and you were really nice to everyone.

He wonders if his probably now single friend is going to be alright. For now, he just listens to him talk for a bit and forces him to swallow a lot of healthy snacks so his liver doesn't collapse.

……….

It's been two long days at the resort and everyone is having fun except XiaoJun. He has been basically brought here as another suitcase anyways, one night he has been slurring words about Y/N and how the guys would have to kill him to make him accept the invitation to the resort and the next day he woke up at lunch time with a huge hangover at a king sized bed... at the Resort.

Fuck them all.

Until Kun made some sense because well, they didn't do it to mess with him. Actually, yes but also because XiaoJun was one of the most excited when Yangyang played a stupid lottery and won tickets to a luxury resort for a week. He helped Kun to organize everything for the other chaotic asshats, it was gonna be an unforgettable summer vacation.

Yangyang and the guys approved Y/N so they invited her but no one asked anything, maybe it was because he arrived late at the dorms looking like garbage after meeting you. He remembers reaching them and opening his hand to show them both of your rings, how embarrassing but at least that stopped the questions.

After Kun leaves, he slurs a thank you because he knows he is making this trip a nightmare for him. But a question keeps running through his head, does he actually reach his own dorm by himself?

DeJun can't even stand on his feet when frick an he acts wild almost screaming what he feels because the alcohol softs his vocal chords and makes him rant about his feelings he prefers no to talk about sober.

He doesn't stand up but leans to the little table at his left to search for his wallet and grab a lot of cash, he'll search the person and tip him extra because it's probably one of the service people that looks the worst side of him.

Let's give us some time. It would be good for both of us, DeJun.

Honestly, fuck you.

How is this good?

It was a silly argument that turned into something big as stress and miscommunication clashed, you both hurt each other with harsh words and stormed out in opposite directions. The next day he met you to talk things out and you forgave each other but it had turned awfully when you returned the promise ring to him.

You are not coming back, he can feel it.

Honestly, he wants to run to you and do something for you to get him back. But what if you end things right away? You said something about giving him a week to enjoy himself as the most repetitive thing of him at the argument was you being everywhere and he couldn't breathe.

He sighs, how stupid of him.

Basically, DeJun is the clingy one so that didn't make sense. He was the one expecting for you to come and cuddle him as you bicker with Yangyang as he tried to roast him, you caressing his hair as he played the guitar and sing for you, the little kisses on his cheek when he felts sad, how you didn't leave his hand even when you were paying for the snacks. He loved it, he was the one to search for your hand so you can hold him a bit more.

If you are taking your revenge now, it's working and he wishes once again being at the dorm so the wondering and the waiting eats him alive.

You are not coming back but he is hoping you do somehow.

…….

"DeJun! Are you drunk?" He shakes his head as he arrives at the fun stuff to do, maybe doing something would make him stop thinking about you for a bit. Everyone pats their back as he probably looks like crap and make him go to beach and learn surf.

...it doesn't work but he feels less miserable at least.

No headaches are cool too as night arrives and they are invited to a party. SiCheng bet him 100 dollars he couldn't pass the night without a single shot and he raises an eyebrow.

"I'll be the one who takes you to the dorm, I won't clean anything tho."

"Deal."

The variety of cocktails makes everyone drunk as hell and XiaoJun actually has fun watching Kun dancing on the table as everyone cheers for him. Hendery breaks empty glasses as he tries to do a house of cards with them, he is the one in charge of apologies tonight. SiCheng literally passes out on his lap and he can't move.

Luckily, the staff helps him and takes each asshat to their room and he gets the chance to ask who is the person who takes him to his own room.

"No staff was needed, sir. A lady came the first night and handed me her number so I could call her when you were passed out."

"Uh, what?"

"We allowed it as he addressed herself as your girlfriend. The friend who slept over you confirmed to us she made you arrive safely."

WHAT.

"Can you call her please?"

And there you are coming hurriedly from another side of the resort, waving at the bartender. "Where is he?"

He lifts his hand and nervously waves, you approach him awkwardly and waved too. "So you caught me."

"Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

"Well, you weren't in conditions for it."

"And what's the best condition?" He doesn't know how to feel, but being embarrassed is the first thing that gets the best of him as you saw it all.

"Maybe sober?" You shrugged your shoulders and sat down in front of him, his cheeks heated because he remembers talking to someone about how sorry he feels for the woman he loves. "You really don't know how to listen to me, huh?" He looks at you utterly confused but his heart flutters when you extend your hand to him. DeJun carefully grabs yours and lets out a shaky sigh like he has been holding his breath since you left.

"Y/N…"

"There's no need to explain further, I heard it all with hiccups and everything." You chuckle and caress his hand. "It was too extreme for me to return the ring, I'm so sorry for that. But I really thought a week alone would make us think if this relationship was going well and… I felt awful. I literally made you cookies twice and kept forgetting we were on a break. I am not sure how to ask this but, how did your week go?"

"I literally can't see because of how swollen my eyes are. Never do this again please I'm so annoyed I'm going to cry again."

"I won't I promise, I also can't see." You laugh and he looks at you, your sweet eyes lighten up as he stands up and kisses them both over the table as he mutters apologies again.

"Can you keep it as a secret what I did hen drunk?"

"You screamed my name but I loved it." XiaoJun groans and covers his ears as you laugh, he searches his pocket and give shou the ring.

He is never going to drink again but he makes you write on a napkin a promise to wear the ring everywhere.

#nct reactions #wayv reactions #xiaojun #dejun #fic #fluff #resonancebeach #collab #nct collab #xiaojun fic

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imaginetonyandbucky · 6 years

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I see a lot of prompts in which Bucky loves Tony but thinks he's with Steve (and in the end he's not). What about a prompt in which Tony really is with Steve but Bucky is in love with him anyway? Tony would be totally oblivious, but Steve would find out. I'm curious about how Steve is gonna react, and what Bucky would do when confronted about it.

Bucky doesn’t know what it is that finally gives him away—his usually stuttering replies when Tony addresses him directly, the constant blushing, the way his breath hitches and his heart skips a beat when Tony smiles at him, something else he hasn’t even noticed doing yet—but he can see the exact moment Steve figures it out; his brows draw together into a confused frown before his eyes suddenly widen, hand freezing halfway to the beer he’s reaching for.

There are few things Bucky wants to do less than admit to his best friend that he’s been dumb enough to fall in love with said best friend’s boyfriend, so Bucky pushes to his feet instead, ignoring everyone’s curious looks, and flees. He jabs the button for the elevator with much more force than strictly necessary, and slumps against the mirrored wall, defeated, as soon as the door has closed behind him.

“Fuckin’ stupid,” he scolds himself, thumping his forehead against the wall.

He runs agitated hands through his hair, yelling out a choked, “Fuck!” when some of it gets caught in his prosthetic fingers. He’s still trying to untangle the mess when the elevator arrives at his and Steve’s floor, and no. Just no. Steve’s undoubtedly already on his way to make Bucky talk about all this, and their apartment is the first place he’s going to look.

The gym is out as well, unfortunately, because Bucky really feels like punching things right about now. He can’t go to Tony’s ‘shop, either, for obvious reasons, but the thought of that does give him an idea.

(Watch out for the break, everyone!)

Somehow, despite his negative associations with labs and creepy machinery, Tony’s workshop has become a sort of safe haven for Bucky. Watching Tony in his element, somewhere far off inside his own head, is almost hypnotic, and never fails to calm Bucky down after waking up from nightmares, or remembering something particularly gruesome from his time with HYDRA. He often takes a book or his tablet down to the ‘shop, letting the background noise of Tony working wash over him, and curls up on the couch to read, or plays fetch with DUM-E until he’s worn out enough to fall asleep again.

The garage isn’t the same, of course, but it’s deserted, and it smells of oil, metal, and gasoline, which is just similar enough to the workshop to settle Bucky’s nerves a little. He chooses one of the limos, and sprawls out in the spacious backseat, closing his eyes, and tipping his head back with a sigh.

Bucky’d tried so damned hard to not be obvious about his feelings after finding out about Steve and Tony, but he should’ve known better. Steve knows him, probably better than Bucky knows himself at this point; he was bound to find out eventually. Bucky can only hope that Tony hasn’t figured it out, too, and that Steve won’t be angry enough at Bucky to tell Tony. That’s a disaster Bucky doesn’t want to deal with, at all.

He’s not sure how long he’s been beating himself up for when the door opens again, and Steve ducks into the car, lifting Bucky’s feet into his lap to make room for himself. He squeezes Bucky’s leg, which means he can’t be too pissed at Bucky, and Bucky manages a wobbly, uncertain half-smile in return.

They’re quiet for a couple of minutes, which suits Bucky just fine. They never have to talk about any of this, as far as he’s concerned. Denial is a beautiful, friendship saving thing.

Steve, of course, doesn’t agree with that, and breaks the silence eventually. “Tony and I,” he starts, slow, like he’s picking his words carefully. “We’re—we’re not—it’s like,” he trails off, waving his free hand around helplessly.

“You’re not,” Bucky prompts, doing his best to not give in to the sudden, bubbling hope in his chest. “You’re not—not together?”

It’s not like either Steve or Tony have ever confirmed being in a relationship with each other, but Bucky’d made certain assumptions after walking in on them, obviously post sex, still partially undressed and all snuggled up together. It had been pretty telling, or so Bucky’d thought.

“No, we are,” Steve says, and ouch.

Some of the hurt must show on Bucky’s face, despite his best efforts, because Steve winces, apologetic, then goes on, “We’re together, but we’re not exclusive.”

Bucky’s shaking his head before Steve’s finished talking. “Stevie, you know me. ‘M not the casual type. I lo—I like him, a lot. Sorry.”

“No, Buck, I know that. I’m not suggesting you, I don’t know, sleep with him once to get it our of your system, or anything like that. I know that’s not like you,” Steve says. He rubs at his forehead, looking sheepish. “I’m not doing a good job explaining this, huh?”

“Always been a dumb punk,” Bucky teases, and grins when Steve rolls his eyes at him.

“Okay, uh, how about—why do you think we haven’t told anyone about us? Not even the team, our friends?”

Bucky arches a pointed eyebrow. “‘Cause they’re a bunch of nosy, meddlin’ assholes?”

“That, too,” Steve allows, laughing softly. “And we didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression.”

“Which would be?”

“That we’re in love,” Steve says, without hesitation. “Or permanent. Don’t get me wrong, I care for Tony, and I know it’s mutual, but we’ve always been on the same page about what it is that we want from each other. There’s attraction there, no doubt, and he’s one of my closest friends, but neither of us went into this relationship with the intention of settling down, of a happily ever after. That’s not what we are, we’ve always had an expiration date, and we’ve always been okay with that.”

Bucky blinks, taken aback, not sure what to say. “You were always seein’ other people?” Steve nods. “And now. Now you’ve, what? Broken up?”

Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t think you’d want me to tell him about, well. You.”

“Yeah, no,” Bucky says, worrying his bottom lip. “So. What is it you’re tryin’ to say, here?”

“You should talk to Tony, I think.” He holds up both his hands, cautioning. “I’m not saying he feels the same, I honestly don’t know, but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? You’re friends, you like each other, he thinks you’re hot—”

“Wait, what?”

“—so why not go for it? Tony and I have always agreed that we’d step back if one of us found someone they wanted to try a closed, committed relationship with.”

It’s a lot to take in, Steve’s confession, and Bucky says as much, making Steve chuckle. He can’t say that he isn’t tempted, though, but he can’t rush this, no matter how much he wants to. He’s got to process everything Steve’s said, think about it, figure out where he wants to go from here.

“Whatever you decide,” Steve says, and flops down on top of Bucky, as if he still only weighs ninety pounds, and isn’t crushing Bucky’s kidney, “I’ve got your back, Buck.”

“Sap,” Bucky accuses, but he does pull Steve closer, and plants a wet, smacking kiss on his cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. Sap.”

(Bucky does end up talking to Tony. Tony is surprised, but seems happy. He asks Bucky out on a proper date four days later, after talking to—and amicably breaking up with—Steve. Steve is smug, because he’s an ass.)

- Potrix

A/N: Committed, monogamous relationships between two people aren’t the only ones with the potential to be happy. Open, honest communication is the key, no matter what.

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #pre-slash #background steve x tony #background stony #implied open relationships #break-up #amicable break-up #stony break-up #getting together #monogamous winteriron #these tags #everyone is okay with everything #healthy communication #prompts #potrix

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striving-artist · 7 years

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I'm not sure if you take prompts but I had this idea where the avengers have a stimulation where they have to fight against each other(one of them will be the villain and the others fight against them) and Tony never participates but one day he gets super angry at them and just crushes all of them and achieves world domination? Like either with the power of the iron man suit and his weapons and cages or with his connections and money and intelligence. Just BAMF Tony and the team terrified.

Normally I don’t take prompts. This one worked for me. So. Enjoy?

Iron Man was a menace, and taking him down rose on Steve’s to do list with each wave of robots he fought. They were endless, clever, zippy things. They hovered mid-dair and used some kind of pack or swarm mentality. Two dozen launched themselves at the team as they breached the perimeter, and it nearly ended the assault on the spot.

The hole in the surveillance had lasted all of ten minutes. Long enough for Natasha to get them past the fence, not enough to get them to the next potential safe point.

Clint was already limping.

Thor eventually built up enough electricity in Mjolnir to fry the entire swarm, but he had to wait until they were all covered to do it right.

None of them got away unscathed. The injuries only goaded them onwards: They were going to finally take Iron Man down.

***

It was his own fault for getting drunk and nostalgic and building a holodeck.

It wasn’t cost effective, and probably never would be. There wasn’t a commercial market for it. Or, there was, but he couldn’t get the price point below a hundred thousand a simulation. It kept the Avengers fit though. They could run simulations beyond their previous capacity, and prepare for potential wars. They could practise. They could train.

Now that Bucky was Bucky and no longer an ice pop, they could work him into the fold.

Usually, they ran against simulated opponents. Friday ran the enemy, and each time Tony reprogrammed the system to make them harder to beat, harder to predict. But the team knew that not even brilliant AI could compete with human thought. It was best for them to spar against each other.

Well. “Spar.”

One or two of them would be the Villain of the month, and the rest would try to defeat them.

It was a point of pride, and betting. They wanted to be able to defeat their teammates, just for bragging rights, even if it did imply that the Avengers had lost to Evil. The team got into it. They planned and plotted. They gave themselves fake names for the event. The Spider was excellent in what turned into a three day bout of espionage overthrowing a government, but not quite enough. Captain Hydra’s utter lack of deception nearly won him the day with his straightforward attack on Buckingham Palace.

They got competitive, and the winner got to claim a boom, which was about as important as the right to strut for the next month.

So, the team loved it.

Tony didn’t.

He participated when they ran against Friday, but he wouldn’t even stay in the compound when they ran against each other.

It drove the Avengers crazy.

They wanted him on their team during simulations, sure, but what they really wanted was to have him run the side of Evil.

They wanted the challenge of trying to take down a genius opponent.

Tony didn’t participate, didn’t explain, and didn’t care when they all pouted at him.

Two years after Siberia, sixteen months after the team came home, ten months after Bucky defrosted, eight months after the holodeck was functional, the Avengers declared that they wouldn’t run another sim until Tony played for the other side, just once.

Billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist, idiot.

He agreed.

***

Steve flung himself behind the wall as another explosion tore through the hallway. The heat from it licked at his arms and hurt enough that his hand itched to shut off the uplink on his neck. But that would be admitting defeat. He tucked into a tighter ball behind his shield, nose pinching with the smell of burning hair.

The heat ebbed, Steve gestured to Bucky across the hall, and they surveyed the new damage.

A twenty foot break lay between them and the door they needed. The blast had taken out at least three floors above and below, and with the debris on the ground, the run up would be rough.

Bucky shrugged, latched his weapons in their holsters and sheaths, and sprinted. He landed bare inches past the ledge, turned and taunted.

Steve’s mind tripped on memories of the first mission he took, of Bucky and Red Skull, and of a desperate leap to reach safety. He brushed it aside, believing it was a coincidence.

Anything he would have shouted across was lost to the percussive explosions beneath his feet. Iron Man was blowing the whole area. There was no time to wait, no time for fear and memory. Steve flung himself forward to jump.

***

Tony didn’t play along and come up with a villain name.

When the rest of the Avengers got their data packages, it talked about the activities of Iron Man, eccentric weapons designer and billionaire, morally untethered and brilliant. There were recon photos of the base Tony designed, and enough information that they could potentially beat him. That was part of the rules of the simulations. It always had to be possible. So the team read every word of them. The packets talked about the crimes Iron Man committed and the number of people he’d killed, and, huddled in their command center, the team didn’t mind anymore that he hadn’t come up with another name. He was taking it seriously. He had written articles and op eds. He had photoshopped images. He had in memoriam pieces about his victims. If some of them itched with a faint sense of deja vu, it was probably because those kinds of articles ran together after a while.

Name change or not, the Avengers knew this was going to be the best simulation they had ever run.

With the new sensors on their suits, they would feel pain from the holographic explosions and bullets and scrapes, but take no actual injuries. Hand to hand would end in real bruises, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle.

The system was a marvel, using something similar to the non damaging protocols that Star Trek broke every other episode. Once they disconnected the uplinks, they’d retain no pain, not even echoes.

But, the system operated on certain rules. Not even Tony could get around the laws of physics and preset conditions once it started. No one could rewrite the code and add more enemies. No one could change how much gravity there was. All the pieces were on the board when the sim started, and it played out from there.

They had done this many times. They were always excited about getting to play, and yes, it was play for them to go fight knowing none of them would die. Clint was giddy. Steve was predatory and eager. Bucky was as excited as they’d ever seen him – just barely smiling.

So the Avengers suited up, eager to finally face off against Iron Man, and bring the bastard down.

***

There were more of the tiny flying robots once they reached the control room, and Thor was stuck on the other side of the compound with Natasha, trying to override the missile launch controls.

Of course Iron Man didn’t have one plan; he had four. Minimum.

They stopped the plane from taking off, only to find there was no one on it, just a note pinned to the front of a Bucky Bear, and the engine set to autopilot. One metal fist through the controls ended that prospect, but it meant they were in the wrong place, and had to scramble for a new plan.

Bucky and Steve had a technique, not a great one, but batting through the tiny buzzing bastards got them to the next door. One punch at a time, Bucky ripped a hole in it, and Steve stood guard, swatting the robots aside. The metal arm was working fine, but Bucky’s other arm hung limp at his side, still trembling from a booby trap they’d triggered trying to shut down the gas release.

If their intel was right, – and it was, for a few seconds they’d accessed the live video of Iron Man’s inner lair – their quarry was less than two hundred feet away.

Nat and Thor and Clint would take care of the missile launch. Steve and Bucky would bring down the Big Bad, and the Avengers would win the day.

They always did.

***

When Tony tried to back out of the simulation in the week leading up to it, the team protested so loudly they sounded like he was threatening to kill their puppy. He tried delaying, bringing up the idea of improving the system first, and they declared they could just run against him twice. Tony offered to swap out with Rhodey, since they knew Tony better, so War Machine would make the more challenging opponent.

They didn’t let him.

He did try to get out of it. He was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that the simulation would end in anything but disaster.

So, when the system was prepped, and they were in final countdown, Tony decided to let them win. It would be better like that. He’d put up a good fight, and when the team reached him at the center of the labyrinthine compound, he’d be sure they thought he’d given it his all. He’d make it harder than it had been before, and when there was a reasonable opening, he’d let them take him down.

Easy peasy.

He even made sure the robots and tech they faced in the lead up to that final fight would be good training for them. They relied on him for tech based evil too much. They needed the practice. If he ever did turn on them, really turn, they had to be able to handle technological attacks.

He had a plan.

And he would have stuck to it, but the night before the simulation was bad. Very bad.

Almost exactly two years since Siberia, and Tony woke up shivering from a nightmare. He called Steve and Bucky at half past three, ready to beg, to prostrate himself, to tell them honestly why it was a bad idea if he had to, whatever it took to get the day cancelled. He wasn’t going to fight them again. They didn’t need to know what he really was.

Bucky was grumbly. Steve was snippy.

They were happy and cozy together, curled up in Steve’s bed, and taunting him about being afraid to face the team, afraid to lose. They told him when they won, the Avengers had already decided what they were going to ask for: Tony would have to play the Evil again. Steve said it with a grin.

Tony was an idiot.

He hung up, let himself softly cry until the chill in his bones faded, and shifted his plan.

The Avengers had never lost against Evil, simulated or otherwise.

But.

The Avengers had never fought against Iron Man, not really.

***

Vision and Wanda and Thor missed the rendezvous entirely, trapped in cells.

Clint and Nat were too badly injured to be of help on the other side of the door.

Steve was limping.

Bucky’s right arm was moving slow.

They got the doors open.

Bucky slipped into the smoky darkness first. Steve followed just behind.

They’d faced worse odds. They would win, and Iron Man would lose. And Tony Stark would have to keep participating in these games.

***

Two years ago, Tony Stark fought his teammates. Fought against his friends.

Two years ago, he pulled every shot he took.

Even when he took off the Winter Soldier’s arm, he pulled his shot.

He could have killed him instead.

He chose not to.

***

Steve cleared the smoke and found Iron Man on a riser in the middle of the room. There was a control panel behind him. There was a screen showing DC. A screen showing missile silos. One monitor showed a list of four, only one of which blinked with an error message.

The Avengers had fought Evil, real and imagined dozens and hundreds of times, on scales small and large. They’d faced what they thought was the end when Loki brought the Chitauri. They’d thought they’d failed in Sokovia. They thought there was no saving anything after the fight that tore them apart and sent the majority into hiding in Wakanda.

Steve gaped at the scene, knowing already that it was hopeless. He was the strategist, he knew. Something sickening twisted in his stomach as he realized it.

Looking back on all the times they’d barely survived, barely prevailed, it hadn’t ever been Tony that needed the Avengers. It was the other way around.

Bucky fired, but it ricocheted off the armor into the air. Steve’s thrown shield was caught and dropped to the ground.

The clang of it hitting steel at Iron Man’s feet echoed with the thunk in his memory as Steve left it behind. It wasn’t the same– not at all, the room, the moment, the energy, the constant knowledge that it wasn’t real – everything was different, but Steve could feel a hint of Siberia as the three of them stood there, waiting for a fight to begin.

Iron Man tilted his head to the side, fired twice, and turned to the launch system while Steve and Bucky lay on the ground in agony.

Iron Man typed the passcode, the missiles launched, and the Avengers failed.

***

It was a terrible idea.

The holograms dissolved after the simulation was won, leaving Tony standing in the middle of a massive warehouse, dressed in a bodycon suit, staring at the space where the monitor had been when he chose to destroy the world. Nearby, the rest of the Avengers rose, no longer feeling pain from their various simulated wounds, and gaped at him.

Thor shouted a question about the victor. Natasha answered that Iron Man won the day. It started a round of cheering and congratulations.

Tony glanced to the others for a moment, lingering on Steve and Bucky where they were still leaning into each other. Thor started orating on the excellent battle and the challenge Tony had crafted. The others joined in on it, praising how good he was at being evil. Joking how lucky they were he was on their side. They laughed. Tony didn’t. Steve and Bucky looked at him too intensely to be anything but a question.

Tony smiled at the group, feigned exhaustion, declared he would never do another Evil Sim again, and walked away, keeping to himself how quickly he could have won the game. They didn’t need to know that he had let them get past the guards outside the building. They didn’t need to know that he’d chosen not to set off one set of bombs they’d missed. They didn’t need to know how good he was at playing for the other team.

Behind him, communicating in silent looks and concerned grips, were Steve and Bucky, who were finally starting to see the ending they should have met in Siberia, if Tony had actually wanted them dead. Bucky had his hand clenching the bicep of his metal arm, recalling the pain of it being torn away, trying to stay calm.

That night, Bucky had new nightmares. Steve did too. It was no longer dreams of them losing each other, of going too far and killing Tony in an icy bunker, or Hydra conquering the world. They dreamed of Tony, unleashed, uncaring, unstoppable, razing his enemies to the ground, salting the earth, and turning to the next. They shuddered as they woke, clingy and shaking, but together.

They didn’t know that four floors up, Tony had the same nightmare, and woke up alone.

#my writing #mcu #tony stark #this is bleak?#I don't know what else to call it #post cacw pain #that's what I'd call it #I just wrote this fast bc I need to make the words go #and they haven't lately #so sorry if it's bad

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