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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

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tony stark x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Summary: After Tony and you break up, you get kidnapped by Loki. When you’re found, you’re not the same person you once were.

Warnings: mentions of rape and abuse, nightmares

You were an agent of SHIELD, assigned to be Tony Stark’s personal assistant due to him being Howard Stark’s kid. You two were always flirtatious, even up to the day he was kidnapped. You searched and searched for him, until you and Rhodey found him in the middle of the desert, three months after he had gone missing. You stayed by his side through everything. Helping him recover and defeat Obadiah, falling in love with each other along the way.

It wasn’t all lovey-dovey for the two of you though. Your relationship was built on heavy sarcasm and teasing, which often led to disagreements and/or nights of heated passion. You mostly fought about Tony’s decision making, especially during the time you didn’t know he was dying. During that time, the fights became more hurtful, either bring on the most heated passion you’d ever experienced or nights spent in different rooms. By the end of his disastrous birthday party, you decided that you were through. Leaving nothing but a voicemail for him, telling him that it was over.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” you voice clearly showed that you were crying. “But I can’t do this anymore. We’re too different, constantly trying to change each other and fighting. It’s not good for us. I’m so sorry, Tony, but it’s over."

You busied yourself in missions after that, ignoring your broken heart and his own desperate voicemails. You were at the SHIELD facility when the Tesseract formed a portal, allowing Loki through. He took both you and Clint as mind-controlled hostages. He used you for a bit before deciding that you were nothing more than a play thing to him, allowing his other controlled hostages to use you for their pleasure. You were beaten, raped, starved, spit on, and many other vile things. When they finally left you, in that cold dark ceil, you had no clothes or food. And you knew not where you were.

Tony was enraged when he found out that you had been taken, even more so when Loki wouldn’t give anyone your location. While having the chance to be near you, Loki was able to see in your mind the love you still had for Tony. And he couldn’t wait to taunt him with it.

When Tony arrived at Stark Tower to confront Loki, Loki used the Mind Stone to enter the billionaire’s mind. Causing him to see what he wanted him to see.

Tony was suddenly in his Malibu mansion. He quickly spun around, examining the place. It was the same, but different. There was clearly a woman living there with him. Tony walked around, seeing the stories of Iron Man saving the day framed on his walls. There were also a few picture of the two of you. He grabbed one, taking if off the wall to look at it. You both were all smiles, him in a tux and you in a white wedding dress. Tony’s mind was running a mile of thoughts a minute, when he heard singing. He followed the sound of singing he heard coming from the kitchen. When he entered, he froze at the sight of you cooking in the kitchen. You were there, safely in his kitchen. You turned to the side to grab something, allowing him to see that you were pregnant and that there was a ring on your left hand. His breath left him. When you finally noticed his presence, you turned and smiled widely at him.

“Hey, honey,” you walked up to him, giving him a sweet kiss. “How’s life down in the workshop?”

“It’s… It’s… I’m sorry,” Tony was in shock and very confused. “What’s going on here?”

“What do you mean? I’m making dinner.”

“I mean, like… what are you doing here? And how are you pregnant?”

“Umm… sweetie, do we really need to go over how babies are made? Cause when a mommy and a daddy—“

“No, I mean, you aren’t suppose to be here.”

“Did something happen down in the workshop today, Tony?” You rested a hand against his scratchy cheek. “Did you hit your head again?”

“No, I did not hit my head!” He stepped back, frustrated.

This wasn’t you. You shouldn’t be this sweet to him and you shouldn’t be here. You were no where to be found right now. There was no way you were at the mansion, and pregnant.

“But I’m afraid someone’s messing with yours,” Tony stated. “We aren’t together. You broke it off, left, because I was too much. We were too different.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony. But I think you need to get some rest before dinner.”

“Yeah, Tony,” Loki’s voice mocked him. “Maybe you should get some rest. Maybe then you’d be fast enough to safe her.”

Quickly, the setting changed. Tony was now in a dark, cold cement room. He turned, slowly, analyzing every inch of the place, until his eyes landed on the scene behind him. A man was stand over you, zipping up his pants. While you, naked and bleeding, were shivering and curled up on the floor.

“Y/N!” He shouted, rushing towards you. But when he went to touch you, his hand went straight through you. “Y/N?”

The man left, leaving you there to cry on your own. Tony went to try and hold you again, but his arms went straight through you. It was breaking his heart to see you like this and not be able to do anything to help you.

“She fought, at first,” Loki appeared beside him, looking down at the two. “She’s quite the fighter. But then, she was slowly worn down. An interesting process to witness.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Tony muttered, standing up with his fists clenched tightly. He spun around, aiming to punch Loki, but he had disappeared. “Come out and fight!”

“Oh, I don’t need to fight when I’ve already won,” Loki chuckled. “If you hadn’t let her get away, then she would have been with you instead of with Barton, where I was able to get her.”

Tony growled, throwing himself at the god. He grabbed his clothes and pushed him onto the ground, causing the scepter to leave Loki’s hand. The illusion faded from around them, back to present day Stark Tower. The two fought, until Tony was thrown from the tower and saved by his suit. Tony fought harder than ever to end Loki and his army. When the army was defeated and Loki was detained, the Avengers set out to find their missing person, you. Using Clint, they went back to every location Loki had been hiding in. Finally finding you in the last possible location, a week later.

You were still naked and extremely thin, close to death. Tony immediately pulled you into his arms and flew out of the building, heading straight for the SHIELD hospital. You were taken out of his arms almost as soon as he landed. But he swore to never leave the hospital until you could.

It took you a few days to gain full consciousness and, even then, you weren’t yourself. You were more quiet, closed off. You flinched at the slightest touch from anyone. It pained Tony to see you this way. At first, you had refused to let him in your room. But one night, he was sitting just outside it and heard you screaming in your sleep. He rushed inside and brought you out of that dark place your tired mind had taken you. After that, you let him stay close by.

Tony made it his goal to see you smile again, to hear that laugh. He was willing to try anything to get you to feel better and open up to him, even if that meant embarrassing himself. He tried preforming obviously bad talent shows with various instruments, singing, and magic tricks. He tried reading to you and showing you funny videos. But nothing. It was like all the happiness, everything that made you, you, was sucked out of you.

When the doctor’s said that you were physically healthy to go home, he took you back to his place in Malibu. You didn’t even put up a fight. You slept most of the flight there, allowing Tony to make goals to help you heal and make you fall in love with him again.

Some how make you laugh and/or smile everyday.

Show his love through acts of kindness.

Limit his daily time down in the workshop. Unless you’re down there with him.

Stop taking life risking missions, or making life risking decisions, unless absolutely necessary.

Get you to talk. Even if it’s just getting you to tell him how much you hate him. He needed to hear your voice.

You stayed up in your room for the first week in the mansion. Tony didn’t question it, bringing the food and entertainment to you. While eating, he would talk about the inventions he was working on or the things his friends were up to. After the first week, you began joining him in the workshop, silently watching him work from the couch. One day, he brought a stool to sit beside him and offered it to you. It was clear that you were nervous to sit that close but you did it anyway. Finding your new spot in the workshop. He began to teach you things and explain what he was working on. He’d even offer for you do help, and was surprised when you shakily took the tool from his hand in acceptance.

That became your new routine. You’d eat and sleep up in your room, and then spend the rest of the time helping Tony in the workshop. You two were in the midst of working on fixing one of the arms of his suit, while it was on him, when the arm fired up and shot him back into the wall. You immediately covered your mouth, trying but failing to suppress the laughter bubbling in you. Tony groaned against the wall, rubbing his head, before he realized what was happening. He looked at you with so much pride, you almost were embarrassed and stopped laughing, but you continued anyway. Causing Tony to laugh along as well. A week after that incident, you began to talk. It wasn’t much, mainly just asking for a certain kind of food or for Tony to pass a toll. But it was progress.

During the weeks you were with him, Tony left notes around the mansion, reminding you that he cared. He’d stopped taking missions. Fury agreeing to it until you were yourself again. Which Tony was slowly seeing. There were still some hard days and nights. Days were you would go back to not smiling, laughing, or talking. Nights that were full of nightmares, no matter what. There was one night that was particularly bad. So bad, that it scared Tony.

He was getting settled into his own bed, not long after checking on you for the last time that night. This was the most good nights that you’d had in a row, making Tony feel like things were getting better faster than he originally thought. But he thought that too soon. Tony had probably been asleep for no longer than an hour when he woke up to your screams.

“Please! Don’t!” You screamed. “Stop! AAHH!”

Tony was up and sprinting to your room faster than he ever had before. He threw open the door to see you thrashing around and still screaming.

“Stop! Don’t touch me! Please!”

Tony raced over to your bed, sitting beside you. His hands found their place on your shoulders, trying to keep you from thrashing.

“STOP! LET GO OF ME!”

“Y/N, it’s just me,” he calmly said, trying to coax you out of the state you were in. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just need you to wake up. Please, sweetheart.”

“Get off me!”

He tried to shake her shoulders as gently as he could, trying to wake her up without making it worse. “Y/N listen to my voice and wake up.”

Your eyes snapped open, but were clearly still panicked. You were breathing heavily and shaking beneath his hold. When you realized you were being pinned down, you began sobbing.

“Pl-please don’t hurt me…” you whimpered. “I’ll do anything… just please… don’t touch me…”

Tony held his hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

“You aren’t?”

It was clear to Tony that you were still stuck in that nightmare. “No, I’m not. I would never. I’m here to protect you.”

“All the others have hurt me… why are you different?”

“Because I care about you. And I would never do anything like that to hurt you.”

Tony patiently waited for your breathing to calm and for your body to relax. You were almost back asleep when you spoke up again.

“Tony?” You called quietly.

“Hmm?” He hummed from beside you, relieved that you were back with him.

“Thank you… for being here…”

He leaned down and held a kiss to your forehead as your eyes fluttered close. “Always, honey, always.”

While Tony was slowly seeing a positive change in you, you were seeing a change in Tony. He was less selfish, still sarcastic to no end and teasing. But he was caring, and showing that he cared more. It warmed your heart to see that he was working hard to better himself without changing too much of himself.

Before the two of you knew it, you were talking like normal again. Teasing him back and throwing a sarcastic comment his way every now and them. It felt like the old days, but with less fighting. It was so nice. Eventually, though, it would have to end. You were better and couldn’t live with Tony forever, especially since you two were no longer together. But the two of you longed to be together, you were just both afraid to voice that to one another.

It was the night before you were suppose to move out. Tony went looking for you, wanting to try and get his feelings out. He finally found you sitting in your designated spot in the workshop. You were staring out into nothing, twirling a screwdriver in your hand.

“Hey,” Tony called, coming up to you. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” You answered with a sigh. “Just not ready to leave yet…”

“You could always stay.”

You shook your head. “I can’t do that to you, Tony. It’s not fair. You need to start living your life again and I mine.”

“But what if this became my life. You here, with me.” Tony came around to stand in front of you. “I know we ended things badly. But I want to give us a second chance. We’ve both had some time apart and have experienced things that have changed us. We aren’t the same people we were when we were first Goethe. And I’d like us to try again. I understand if you don’t want to, but I couldn’t let you leave without you knowing how I—“

Tony was cut off by you grabbing onto his shirt and smashing your lips on his. He was taken by surprise, briefly, but quickly kissed back.

“What was that for?” Tony asked when they parted.

“That was to get you to shut up,” you answered. You let go of his shirt and moved around the table. “This is for staying by my side for all these months.” You pressed another kiss to his lips. “And this,” you whispered once you parted again, “is because I love you.” You brought Tony in for another long, passionate kiss.

“I love you too,” he whispered, panting after parting for the third time. “Now, are you going to stay?”

“I think I’ll stay for a little while longer,” you smirked. “See what life has in store for us.”

#Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #Iron Man #iron man fanfiction #iron man x reader #iron man imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #avengers fanfiction #avengers imagine #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader

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captainjimothycarter · 4 years ago

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can u do another peggy is tony’s birth mom but from a 1 night stand w/ Howard (maybe she’s wasted or up 2 u, resulting n a late n life pregnancy. Howard and Maria adopt him b/c of reasons (up 2 u)

Hopefully, this is what you imagined! Just a warning, abortion is mentioned several times

Things just happened.

Peggy isn’t sure how point A and point B ended up together to make this triangle sort of events, but here they are. Here she is, sitting on the bathroom floor of her new office in DC, staring at the positive pregnancy test.

She was filled with some complex emotions that she didn’t know where to start with first. Frustration for herself? Angry at herself for letting her guard drop? For not thinking at the moment, no excuse of alcohol in her system despite it was a reason to celebrate. How could she be so stupid?

A pregnancy was dangerous to her in general, the doctors had told her when she had the distant thought of wanting to start a family. Shrapnel from an explosive had cut through her lower stomach, tearing through several important organs. She told me she had almost died on the table twice during surgery and pregnancy was out of her future if she wanted to see the ripe age of at least fifty.

That reality had hurt, the idea that she couldn’t get pregnant without risking her health, but Peggy had packed away the pain as she always did to visit on a rainy day. She made peace with this reality. She threw herself into her work. She focused on the tasks at hand with the SSR, Howard, Leviathan, Howard, Whitney Frost, Michael, Howard, Shield, and Howard.

It’s not that Peggy didn’t want kids, she loved kids. She just never found herself the mothering type, even as a child. She would rather roll around in the dirt, get her dress dirty, and play pirate than to learn how to take care of a baby doll or even sew [even if that skill would come in hand at a much later date in her life]. Her mother had frowned upon the idea, told her that she would never get a husband, that no man would want her, and even as a child, a teenager, she shrugged it off.

She lived for no man.

The problem wasn’t the pregnancy so much, she could deal with the pregnancy if she was to keep the child. Was it even too late? Too dangerous to abort? Surely her medics at SHIELD could think of something. The main problem lied in her job. A pregnancy meant things on hold because of the danger of the situation. A pregnancy meant no more field missions, a pregnancy meant she was exposing herself as a weakness to the world by carrying a child. Especially this late in life.

Then there was the fact of actually birthing this child. Of raising it. Could she even do it? Did she even want to?

She felt guilty for even thinking no. Not that she wouldn’t love the child, she was sure she would, but looking in his face? Seeing who the father was made her sick. How could she do that to Maria?

It wasn’t just that. It was exposing a child to the daily life of leading Shield would result in the child being in danger, expanses she wasn’t sure they could afford to be stretched to protect the child too.

No, she couldn’t go through with this. For the better good of herself, of the world. The best she could do was get an abortion and move on, put it all behind her, and tuck this into the nice little box to visit on a rainy day.

“I’m afraid no,” the doctor with gray eyes and a mole on his cheek sighed at her, tapping the clipboard on his arm. “Going by your lab results and your history, it’s far too late to do as you ask. If there’s an emergency, then yes, we can risk it, but given your age and your medical history, there are ways around the main risks with constant monitoring.”

That’s not what Peggy wanted to hear. She expected it was far too late. How long had she been sick and put it off as just stress? Nausea, vomiting, heartburn. She just chucked it up to the lack of self-care. Now, it was coming to bite her in the ass.

She could press if she wanted to, she knew that. There would be some doctor in some part of this city to say yes, but part of her was relieved. She didn’t want to. She wanted some excuse, to put reasoning behind this budding guilt in her that she had to do it for her health.

Now she had to carry to term for her health too.

And maybe there’s a chance she lied on the forms, on the questions, her subconscious told her. Her period had been far earlier, the date of conception had been different. In reality, she wanted to keep this child that was now growing inside of her and had been for some time.

So pregnancy was dangerous in both her late age and her war-torn body, but it was doable. She should be upset, raging, storming off to find another doctor. So why did she feel so relieved?

And where in the hell was Howard Stark?

The answer was her office. Helping himself to a tall whiskey, a sour look on his face that had nothing to do with the glass in hand. She rolled her eyes as she marched inside, snatching the bottle and glass from him to put it out of his reach. The smell made her stomach roll.

“Tastes like shit anyway, all watered down,” Howard grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his salt and peppered hair. He set Peggy with a hard look, eyes dropping instantly down to her belly and back up to her. “So, when were you gonna tell me? Why did I have to find out through Shield gossip that you’re pregnant?”

This is not how she wanted to do this.

Peggy sighed as she shut the door, instructing her secretary Rose to please push her meetings back by an hour. She sat behind the desk and slipped her heels off, feet already starting to swell in them.

“I only found out today.” At Howard’s look, the brunette sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I’m serious, Howard. It’s not like I would keep this from you! I only found out today and took that pregnancy test on a complete whim. I already went to medical and I’m too far along to consider...anything but carrying it to term.”

Howard was still giving her a funny look, turning the information over in his head.

“Whose the father?”

The silence stretched between them as she stared at him, turning that night over in her head. Plenty of drinks. Celebration. He had kissed her.

“You are.”

Howard’s face paled of all color, making the dark strands in his hair and mustache stand out. He’d aged as they all had, carrying SHIELD and Stark Industries on his back. More recently he’s been talking about diving into weapon trade, and designing weapons for more than just SHIELD to create a steady income and a good source to fall back on. She’d voiced her displeasure but until she saw the proof, there was nothing she could do.

“You’re serious,” he sighed, dropping his face into his hands. “I thought...I thought…”

“We did.” It had been a wild night. She’d just made Director. Phillips had officially passed the mantle on to her and she’d just moved to the office in DC. It had been a private celebration between them, to honor the falling as well. Her thoughts had faded back to Steve when he kissed her. And maybe it was the loneliness that had crowded in on her at night, or the illusion that she was drunk, or the fact that Howard, despite all her reserve to admit it, he was a good kisser. Regardless, it had happened.

She’d woken up to Howard gone from her bed, the memory of that night filling her mind. He’d left shortly after looking smug as he used to in his young age when he’d bed someone. Not just smug, he looked...relieved, almost longing in those eyes. She had fooled herself to think so, too desperate for human contact she denied herself.

“And,” Peggy continued. “We need to tell Maria.” Howard looked just as panicked as she felt but she shook her head, continuing firm. “I will not lie to my friend about this, Howard. She deserves to know how we both screwed up.”

Maria was a beautiful woman and quick to wit, never afraid to put Howard in his place. It was one of the many reasons Peggy had liked her from the start. She helped them out plenty of times, no matter if it was three in the morning, she stumbled in with a bleeding shoulder from a stray bullet or just to gossip about her day. She could pick up the signs that no one else noticed or well ignored.

Peggy liked her, loved how good she was for Howard, and hated this reality.

“You’re pregnant,” Maria said the second the pair had sat down for their earlier-than-usual afternoon tea. She held the cup in hand, looking at Peggy over the steaming rim. “And it’s Howard’s.”

Peggy blinked, feeling her body run cold. Feeling sick to her stomach from more than just the smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen. All she could do was nod, eyes dropping down to her steaming cup. Maria had purposely fixed her ginger tea.

“How did you know?” She finally asked when she found her voice.

The woman shrugged, a smile curling on her lips was the last thing Peggy had expected. She should be angry, she had every right to be. Not only did her husband cheat on her, but he cheated on her with her friend.

“You’ve been sick for a few weeks now, complaining of lack of sleep, but a lady knows.” Her hand moved to cover the back of Peggy’s, giving a gentle squeeze. “As for how I know it’s Howard’s… He told me. I know underneath it, he’s sorry. He’s sorry for putting your life at risk, our marriage. I’m not angry, I should be but… You were always the exception to him. He loves you, Peggy, to a degree that is not the same as he loves me. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s no competition between you and me for his love, but it’s there. And I’m not mad about it. I’m glad that you’re okay.”

Peggy was not a crier. She’s never broken into tears, hysterically sobbed before. Yes, maybe in times of stress. Maybe during the war a time or two or when she forced herself to say goodbye to Steve far before she was ready, but never now. Yet she did cry, holding onto Maria who, bless this woman, was calming her down.

Nine months later, Anthony Micheal Stark was born.

The pregnancy had been an easy one to Peggy’s relief. She had managed to hide the pregnancy for as long as she could. She took maternity leave straight away, working from home when the pregnancy abled her. When it came time to give birth, she opted for a c-section to avoid the unnecessary process, even if that meant another scar on her body.

He was beautiful. Brown eyes. Black hair. Screaming on top of his lungs. Her heart ached for him. Yet, as Peggy looked at this bundle of joy in her arms, the way he held onto her finger and smiled, her life was not meant for him.

She could provide, yes but, she couldn’t trust herself to be there for him as a mother should. It’s why she made the difficult decision to give Anthony up for option - to entrust him to be cared for by Howard and Maria.

It might be a reminder of what happened, as will the scar that will always be on her body, but Peggy could keep a secret. She’d know they would love him in the same manner that she did.

“Are you sure?” Maria asked one night, a hand over Peggy’s belly. “You don’t have to say yes, just because Howard-”

“I’m sure, Maria. You and Howard will give Anthony a loving home. I couldn’t entrust him with anyone better,” Peggy sighed, feeling Anthony’s foot collide with the underside of her hand.

It seemed like Anthony agreed.

This was the best choice she could make for all of them, the difficult choice, but the best one to ensure Anthony had the future he deserved.

#HowardPeggy #Pregnant Peggy Carter #Nonny Prompt #Writing Prompt #Peggy Carter Prompt #Peggy is Tony's bio mother

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sunlightdances · 5 years ago

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At Peace (Steve Rogers x Reader One Shot)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Rating/genre: Romance, a bit of angst. PG for a single swear word. Summary: Sort of Endgame compliant (we’re rewriting a scene and keeping some folks alive). When Steve and Tony go to Camp Lehigh to get the Tesseract, they’re almost caught. Steve turns to the one person he thinks can help them get out unscathed, and finally closes the one remaining door to his past so he can move on in the future. Author’s Note: No Endgame hate here, please! I didn’t hate the ending for Steve, but didn’t love it either. This is my take on what could have happened with the addition of a reader insert. I came up with this idea in the shower and wrote it in 2 hours so pls be nice if it sucks!!!!

“You know,” Tony muses on Steve’s right, “You’re not normally the one with the stupid ideas. It’s a nice change, honestly.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but the pair keep walking, eyes downcast, hats pulled low over their foreheads. Yes, this is probably the worst idea and it’s sure to screw the whole plan. But what else do they have to lose?

“That woman from the elevator is already onto us, so this is our best shot.”

“It’s our best shot to get arrested, yes.”

Steve stops short, jaw clenching hard. “Do you have a better idea?”

Tony sighs. “I guess not. Come on, let’s go meet your woman--”

Steve stops short again, his tone icy. “Don’t--” He shuts his eyes. “Please, Tony, for once in your life, leave the talking to me.” There’s a sad undertone to his voice, a kind of desperation that Tony doesn’t hear often, so he nods, leaving the jokes behind.

Steve finds the office door he’s looking for, and takes a deep breath before opening it and shoving Tony inside, locking the door behind the both of them.

Peggy stands, affronted. “Excuse me, this is a private office--” She stops as Steve steps into the light, her eyes widening for half a second before they narrow.

Steve isn’t sure which Peggy to expect. He doesn’t think she’s going to break down and cry, but he’s also not entirely sure she’s not going to shoot him either. Tony takes a large step back when she glances down and grabs the first thing she can threaten them with - a letter opener.

“Tell me who you are, right now.” Her voice is stern, though a little shaky.

“Peggy, put it down.”

“If you think--”

“It’s me, Peg. It’s Steve.”

He sees her shoulders sag, though she doesn’t drop her guard. “You’re dead.”

“Not anymore,” Tony mutters, and Steve elbows him hard in the ribs.

“I know this is hard to believe, but I can prove it,” Steve says, taking a small step forward, heart tightening when she takes an imperceptible step backward. “That last conversation we had, when I was in the plane. I told you I’d meet you at the Stork Club. That we’d have the band play something slow so I wouldn’t step on your feet.” He smiles softly. “Remember?”

“Of course I remember, you idiot.” She says, voice choked, a single tear making its way down her cheek, despite the letter opener she’s still brandishing.

“I don’t have a lot of time, but I need your help,” Steve says as he gets a step closer, close enough to gently grasp her wrist and lower it.

“Steve.” She says on a sob, and then she’s in his arms.

“Let me get this straight. You need to steal the cube and something from Hank Pym’s lab?” Peggy asks incredulously.

Tony snorts. “After everything you’ve heard, and that’s the part you’re not sure about?”

She gives Tony a look. “Mr. Stark, you may be your father’s son, but you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t find your jokes all that hilarious at the moment.”

Steve bites back a smile. “I know we’re asking a lot,” he says, serious once more, “but the entire world is at stake. Please, we have to get out of here unseen. If we fail at this--”

“We’re not going to.” Tony says, firm. “There’s no other option.” He meets Steve’s eyes. “Whatever it takes, remember?”

Steve swallows. All the arguments and years lost between him and Tony evaporate. Just like that, they’re brothers in arms once more. “Whatever it takes,” he murmurs.

Meeting Peggy’s gaze, she looks between the two, and Steve thinks he sees in the moment when it clicks for her how serious this is. “First of all, stop talking about the future in front of me. I’ve read enough novels to know that isn’t a good idea, and the two of you don’t need to get in any more trouble, clearly.”

“So you’ll help?”

She fidgets. “Yes. I’ll help you. I’ll schedule a meeting with Howard and Hank so they won’t be near their labs when you go down. I can’t do much about security, so you’ll have to be quick and stay out of sight.”

Steve nods, “Thank you.”

It’s not until over an hour later, after some sneaking around, some nearly getting caught, and Peggy having to save their asses yet again, that he gets a minute alone with her.

“I just wanted to-- I have to go back, but I couldn’t leave without telling you something.”

“Steve, don’t.”

“No, it’s-- it’s nothing that’s going to change anything.” Steve smiles. “I just want you to know-- I loved you, Peg. Still do, really.” He takes a deep breath. “Probably always will.”

“Steve,” it’s a warning, but there’s old feelings there that he can hear in her voice. “Then I need you to know -- I’m happy, Steve. You saved my life. You saved all of our lives. And I miss you terribly. Underneath it all, you were my closest friend.” Another tear slips out. “And I love you too, Steve. But you have to know that I’m happy. I found someone, and I have a career that I love… you did exactly what you were supposed to do. You saved the world.”

Steve’s eyes are a little glassy, but he hardens his resolve. “I have someone, now. In my time.” He shrugs. “I think, anyway. It’s been-- what we’re going through right now has been hard. I haven’t had the guts to have the conversation with her yet.”

Peggy smiles. “Still have no idea how to talk to women?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but chuckles. “I guess not.”

“You should be happy, Steve.” Peggy’s voice is soft.

Steve’s mind drifts to you, how happy you already make him, even if you don’t realize how much. He has so much he needs to talk to you about, but he has to keep you alive first. He has to keep himself and his family alive.

“Thanks, Peggy.” He says, and pulls her into his arms one last time.

They did it.

They actually fucking did it.

Steve has never been more tired in his entire life. He’s exhausted, and every single bone in his body hurts. He’s on his knees next to Tony who is barely hanging on, and has to take a minute to let it all sink in.

They won.

There’s voices all around him, frantic, asking about the cradle, and if the medical bay survived the explosion, and Steve has to fight to get back into Captain mode and save his friend’s life.

On his right, Natasha limps forward, her cheek bleeding, but a bittersweet smile on her face. “You did it,” she whispers, and Steve shakes his head.

“We did.”

He and Scott and Rhodey get Tony somewhere safe, and Bruce manages to stabilize him, despite knowing he’s going to lose functionality in a lot of his arm.

“I’ll just get one to match Tin Man, it’s fine,” Tony mumbles, and that’s when they all know he’s going to be okay. Leaving Pepper and Peter with Tony, Steve sets off to find the one person he had to force himself not to look for during the fight.

Some of the Wakandans are setting up a triage area in parts of the compound, and he passes through them as he scans the crowd until he spots you.

You’re there with Sam, his arm slung around your waist, yours over his shoulder, keeping all your weight off one leg. His breath leaves him when your eyes meet his, and he’s moving before he can even comprehend what he’s doing.

Your name escapes on a breath when he’s close enough, and then you’re letting go of Sam, almost collapsing into Steve’s arms.

“Steve,” you say, “You’re alive.”

“So are you,” he says, your face pressing into the side of his neck as you embrace. Steve shudders, thinking how close it could have been to losing you forever.

He finally has closure with Peggy, but he almost didn’t have it with you. He can’t make that mistake again.

He meets Sam’s eyes and nods, holding you to his side as he tries to give a half-hug to his friend, his heart overflowing with relief.

“Bucky?” He stutters, grief eating at him when he doesn’t see his oldest friend anywhere amongst the crowd.

“He was helping people get inside,” you say quietly, “He’s probably in there.”

Steve’s eyes fall closed at one more confirmation that so far everyone he loves is in one piece. “Of course he is,” he laughs quietly, “he’s just hoping there’s nurses there.”

“I heard that,” a gruff voice says behind him, and then there it is, the final piece of his family clicking into place.

The residences are part of the only bit of the compound that wasn’t destroyed by the explosion. Steve hasn’t been to his room in months - only when he would come by to check on Nat, and when they started work on time travel.

It’s a little strange for him to be in here now, but his focus isn’t on that. You were exhausted and after being told (none too gently) by Pepper that there wasn’t anything else for him to do now, he carried you back here.

He can’t seem to let you out of his sight.

He’s bone tired too, and the prospect of a nap with you is too much to resist. He carries you bridal style through the dark living area and kitchen until he reaches his bedroom, the sheets tucked neatly into the corners, army style.

You stir in his arms slightly, but otherwise stay asleep. He sets you down and gets you situated before straightening, his eyes committing every bit of this scene to memory. You have stitches on your cheekbone and dark circles under your eyes, and Steve curses himself for not checking in with you more, making sure you were okay…

He shakes his head and tries to quiet his thoughts. A shower first, and then he’s going to join you, propriety be damned.

His own body is tired, the serum working overtime to heal the cuts and bruises scattered across his arms and torso. His left hand is likely broken, he thinks, remembering it shaking when he tried to take off his broken shield.

He’ll worry about it in the morning. Right now he has more important things to sort out.

He’s only gone for fifteen minutes, but it’s enough for you to be awake when he comes back to the bedroom, and there’s a minute where you both stop and stare at each other, time suspended.

“Hey,” you say, and he crosses the room to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Hi.”

“Long day,” you sigh, winking at him.

“The longest.” He agrees, moving a little closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder.

“I can’t believe we actually pulled it off.”

Steve shakes his head. “I know. I’m-- You have no idea how relieved I was to see you.” He hears Peggy’s voice in his head telling him to finally have this conversation. He can’t put it off anymore. He’s done wasting time.

“Me too, Steve.”

He reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “I hope I’m not getting this all wrong. I-- I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

Your hand shakes a little in his. “Thank me?”

He smiles, nods. “Yeah. Thank you for… for giving me something else to fight for. Something that I never thought I’d have.”

“Steve…”

“Wait, just-- before you say anything, let me get this out.” He tells you everything, about how the trip back in time was with Scott and Tony, and how he had to go back even further and about Peggy. “She basically told me to quit moping and just tell you how I feel.”

You laugh, but it’s a little watery. Steve plows on, “I fell in love with you years ago, and I should have told you from the start. Either one of us could have died today, and I can’t let any more time go by without you knowing how much I care about you.”

Your throat is too tight to say anything, but you pull him close, arms around his torso, soaking up his warmth.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant,” he says quietly, lips brushing against your neck where his face is pressed. “The last few months… you didn’t deserve that.”

“You were focused on trying to save the world,” you scoff. “As excuses go, that’s a pretty good one.”

Steve pulls back a little so he can meet your eyes. “I don’t know what the future holds for me, but as long as you’re here, I think I can handle it.” He smiles, that crooked smile you’ve grown so fond of. “I’m done trying to make up for the mistakes of the past. I’m ready to move on.”

“Me too, Steve.” You whisper. “I love you.”

Steve knows there’s more to do - he has to help his family and the rest of the world adjust to their new lives post-Thanos, but knowing he finally has all the broken pieces of his life safe, alive, and by his side for the process? It’s more than he could have hoped for.

Going to sleep that night with you in his arms, he finally feels at peace.

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #marvel fanfiction

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toledoendo · 5 years ago

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You’ll Rise Up, Free and Easy

This is the second story in my series Amphora, an alternate-reality historical fan fiction based on the characters Tony Stark and Peter Parker from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The characters’ personalities remain mostly intact, but I’ve inserted them into my own reality for them. The series is set at the turn of the 20th Century.

This story is considerably darker than the first; it follows Tony Stark’s difficult childhood. Please exercise safe reading-- the story is not meant to hurt anybody!

I’ve used this platform to purge some personal demons through the metaphor of child abuse. Keep yourself safe and feel free to read the next story in the series (at this time, it is unwritten) as it will not have that focus.

Story Summary: Peter Parker, a brilliantly talented ceramicist-in-training, has been Tony Stark's apprentice for ten days. To his delight, he's able to work closely with Tony and begins to learn more about him and bond with him. However, just as it seems that they are becoming an established part of each other's lives, tragedy puts distance between them.Peter strives to be a source of comfort and support for Tony during a season of grieving, adapting how he shows love to the ways Tony knows how to accept it.

Read the story after the break.

Chapter One: “Chokeberry and Baby Cheeks”

Early May, 1868

“Young Sir?” Jarvis peered around the trunk of a young chokeberry tree at the youth who was crouching in the knoll at its roots. He stepped around, keeping a gingerly distance for he could see that the boy was vulnerable, like a raw nerve.

Tony, blushing from exertion and violence, sat panting a few moments longer, ignoring Jarvis. He clutched at his right fist which was torn across the knuckles. Sweat was heavy on his face and neck and the smell, like well water, hung on him. There was blood peeking under his nose, a thin film across his teeth, as well as a cut on his left eyebrow.

Finally, Tony swallowed to force the remaining moisture evenly in his dry mouth and said, “Is Father going to be home tonight?”

Jarvis removed a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to him. “To my knowledge.” When Tony didn’t take the handkerchief, Jarvis pressed it under his nose himself. Tony resisted, but ceased struggling almost immediately. “Perhaps, though, when he arrives tonight, you’ll already be in bed, Young Sir.”

Tony looked up at him and said in a questioning way, as though expecting betrayal. “You’ll tell him.” Then he added, without waiting for an answer, “Damn British butlers and their sensibilities…” Tony took over the pressure on the handkerchief and Jarvis stood upright again.

Jarvis said sternly, “Let’s leave damnation to the clergy, shall we, sir? Unless you’re studying to become one?”

Tony scoffed then lowered his gaze deferentially.

Offering a hand, Jarvis said, “Strand up, please; crouching on the ground like a gopher is not dignified for a young man.” Jarvis noticed Tony roll his eyes as he obeyed; the butler stifled a smile. The boy pinched the handkerchief and removed it. Jarvis saw with relief that his nose was not bleeding anymore.

When Tony was standing before him, meeting his eyes, Jarvis leaned toward him confidentially. “As far as a British butler’s sensibilities are concerned, I am your father’s servant, not a spy. I have no inclination to report your behavior only for the sake of it.”

Tony listened, blinking at him passively.

Jarvis’s voice softened. “The only time I might do so is if I deem your actions would lead you to greater danger than you would receive at Master Stark’s hands. Are we at an understanding?”

At this Tony smirked and Jarvis nodded in a decisive manner. “Besides, any injurious behavior I witness from you, I shouldn’t wonder to think that we two could reach an understanding without need to concern your father.” He gave Tony a poignant look. “Do you agree, sir?”

This time Tony nodded but still smirked. He seemed to remember the times Jarvis could have handed him over to Howard, but didn’t. That was good enough for the boy to trust him. On those occasions, Jarvis would let him explain himself, rant, cry, and blame others, firmly correcting him if he was disrespectful, but otherwise allowing him to fully express his grievances. Then, he would speak to Tony solemnly but patiently, like he was a man.

“Now,” Jarvis said, shifting to a more curious tone, “might you inform me what foreign object collided with your face so as to leave you in such a state? Perhaps also, what response to the object you gave?”

Tony erupted. “I was trying to keep these boys from carving up my friend’s tree!” Unleashing his pent up desperation caused Tony’s voice to crack. His hand swung wide behind him to indicate the chokeberry tree. “He told them not to and they keep coming back to do it anyway! And they laughed about it because they knew it upset him. He’s real keen on this tree for some reason.”

“Your friend, Master Potts?” Jarvis asked.

Tony nodded. He huffed and tried to hide his emotion by chewing on his lip. There were little tears at the corners of his eyes. He was much more comfortable showing anger than any other emotion, even joy. Often he would mask his feelings with shouts, huffs, shoves, scowls, glares— or sarcasm and jokes, which Jarvis considered a “creative form of aggression.” Of course, if his father were around, he adopted a sullen disposition, or, at times, was an avatar of Howard Stark’s own persona. When Howard was away, his son became Tony again -- guarded, but more volatile. However, Jarvis had a talent for flaying the rage from the sadness or fear underneath.

“The other boys wish to carve it, you say?”

“Yes, you know, Jarvis, like their initials or something, like people do.”

“I see, sir,” Jarvis said and paused to think. He looked at the chokeberry tree; it was still a sapling, though nearly mature. The foamy white buds swayed in their clusters in the Northern wind.

Tony also turned and looked at the tree. “Samuel thinks the flowers look like lace. He’s kind of silly, but a good kid .”

Jarvis was slightly amused by Tony’s condescending use of the term “kid�� when he was scarcely eleven years old himself. “A special tree indeed, sir. However, I couldn’t advise you to endeavor to stop them by force.”

Tony shuffled. Though he rolled his eyes, Jarvis felt respect in him, so he continued. “Or your fists for that matter.”

“We ought to put up a wall.” Tony muttered. “With barbed wire.”

“A creative solution, though, it would quite obstruct the view, wouldn’t you agree?” Jarvis deadpanned.

Tony sighed through his nose. “What about a trapping pit, then?”

Jarvis examined the grass stains on the knees of Tony’s trousers. “Better widen the scope of your innovation, Young Sir.” He replied absently while considering how he could clean the blood from the shirt and jacket so that Mrs. Stark wouldn’t notice. She kept strict inventory of her son’s wardrobe, particularly when they were abroad, as they were now.

Then, he remarked, catching Tony off guard, “I am pleased to see you’ve made such an important friend here, sir.”

Tony sniffed and shrugged. After a couple kicks at the ground beneath, he said: “Jarvis, I’m hungry. Is it luncheon yet?”

“You should just have time to bathe and make yourself presentable, sir.”

Jarvis led him back to the Starks’ Toronto estate by a covered path in the garden that was seldom used so no one would see the rough condition he was in.

January, 1903

When Peter threw open the front door of his and May’s house in Queens, Tony couldn’t help but notice the cotton scarf wrapped over his ears. “Mr. Stark! Come see how my latest test glaze turned out, sir!” He stepped quickly out of the way so Tony could enter and held out his arms to take his mentor’s coat, muffler, and hat. “I’ve decided to leave off on the layerings of celadon and copper red glazes and am trying some strike firing techniques with a different glaze mixture.”

Tony’s brow knotted in concern, but he remarked, lightly, “Interesting head adornment, Ms. Mozart. Do you have a toothache?”

Peter touched the thin cloth around his head. “Oh. No, May wants me to wear this to keep my ears warm.” He added, as though trying not to lie: “I’ve had an earache the past few days.”

“Small wonder!” Tony scolded. “I seem to recall you running around most of Christmas week in the icy wind with no hat. Probably blew all manner of viruses into your empty head!”

Peter looked at him unhappily. “But! I’m not contagious, the doctor says. I don’t even have a fever! Anymore.”

Failing to hide his amusement as Peter fell over himself verbally, Tony waited and said, “Easy Pete. No one’s planning to take you behind the barn and shoot you.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’ll get you sick, Mr. Stark.” Peter said. “I’ve been so looking forward to experimenting with you on peach bloom glaze. And, well…” A look of contrition contorted his face. As he began wringing his hands, Tony removed his coat. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. It’s selfish of me.”

Tony hung his hat on the hook and then placed a hand on Peter’s head, tousling the scarf along with his curls. “You can’t run me off so easily, kid. I’m not worried over earaches.”

Peter grinned and led him through the hall and dining room, into the kitchen and to the scullery, his little ceramics alcove.

“Read me the recipe notes for this one,” Tony said. He tapped one of the five flat slats of clay arranged before him. The tiles reminded him of dominoes and he came to enjoy the plink clink sound when he handled them. On each was the same glaze mixture but each had undergone a variant firing schedule.

Peter hurriedly finished chewing a piece of sponge candy so he could complete the request. Tony had brought over a box of the candy as a treat while they worked. (“Pepper would like you to believe this is a present from her , but, as I am the one who brought it to you, and in this weather, I think the credit is due to me. So, you’re welcome.”)

Peter leafed through his small notebook. “For this test,” Peter read, “Gerstley Borate, 10.7%; Whiting, 10.7%; NC-4 Feldspar, 40.3%...” Tony nodded as he listened. He plucked the tile from the table and rubbed his thumb over it absently. Peter finished. “Then I added the tin oxide.”

“What percentage to the mixture?” Tony asked. He returned the tile and picked up his favorite. The freckling green, created by the high reduction period of the firing, spider-crawled through the patchy blush of peach. It truly bid his heart to rush at the beauty.

“.5% but I’m thinking of adding a higher percentage next test.”

Tony smiled and looked at him. “Why’s that?”

Peter was leaning eagerly toward him across the table, resting most of his weight on his elbows beneath him. Like a small animal, his eyes were round and animated as he piped: “More tin oxide will create a milkier effect on the glaze. Right?”

Proudly, Tony nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, too.”

Peter seemed to realize that his mentor was pleased with him and he ducked his head, grinning. It was such an unrestrained expression of delight that Tony looked away. Peter had received so little guidance from his previous master that the kid was starved for feedback. Blessed now with more attention, Peter was accelerating in his pursuit of the craft.

Tucking away a surge of affection for the boy, Tony followed up, confirming, “That’s the effect your artistic little heart is set on, right?”

Peter chose another piece of sponge candy from the box. “Yes,” he said and Tony caught how that dreaminess he sometimes got began to cloud his eyes. “The glaze is meant to resemble a ripening peach, sir, with green mottles on a blushing pink.” Peter crunched the candy contemplatively then spread his fingers over his cheeks. “Well, I was very much hoping for a kind of baby’s cheeks look.”

“Baby’s cheeks?” Tony asked and he took some candy, too. “Is that a technical term? Or one of your isms?”

Peter blushed in answer. “Do you know what I mean, Mr. Stark?” He pantomimed a moment, to illustrate his words. “Have you ever held a baby close and looked at their cheeks?”

A slight twitch ran across Tony’s face, but he answered, unaffectedly, “Yes, kid, I have had occasion to see a human in infancy.”

Clicking his tongue, Peter replied, “That’s not what I meant, Mr. Stark.” He mined again, as though it would help. His nose nuzzled into the crook of his elbow. “Have you seen how a baby’s cheeks are so fair that their skin mottles when warm? And they get so rosy, sir?”

“Do they?” Tony said. He was trying to be patient with Peter’s reverie. Normally, he would sit back and enjoy the funny expression on the kid’s face and the rambling explanations for his thoughts that only made it more challenging to understand how his mind worked, but this was a tender subject for Tony.

He and Pepper were unable to have children, except through adoption. Pepper was anguished by the idea, though, so they never had. Instead, they supported and improved the orphanages and children’s homes of New York as well as they could, as benefactors.

“My friend, Ned— his mother had a baby a couple years back, with his step-father and she let me hold her— well, actually his mother had me and Ned hold her for a few hours while she cleaned and mended and took a nap and cooked… but, his sister was pretty as a picture, sir! Her cheeks would go dusky when she cried and they looked like red onions.” He laughed. “It wasn’t a nice sound she made, though.”

Tony regarded him with a gnarled expression. “You’re a rare one, kid. Not many find the inherent attractiveness of colic.”

“Will you and Mrs. Stark have a baby, Mr. Stark?”

Bucking a little, Tony reminded himself that this was a harmless question. Peter was silly-hearted and likely excited by the prospect of a child entering his life, even by some distant channel. Tony composed the ache in his chest. He sniffed and said, “Not likely. My lifestyle is not very conducive for raising a kid. Besides, I have my hands full as it is.”

Peter blinked. He said, “With what?” Innocence was plain on his face.

“With what?” Tony snorted indignantly.

“With me?” Peter asked, even more innocently.

Tony pushed out of his seat and marched across the floor. “Bonehead! I do have a life beyond you and your ceramics. I am a very busy inventor, businessman, and philanthropist. You may have heard.”

Peter stared at him, perplexed.

Tony turned back. His arms flapped at his sides as a segue. “Well, are we going to increase the amount of tin oxide or should I return to my heavily-booked agenda? I’m sure Pepper would not mind having me chained back in the office, if you have no more need of my time.”

“Yes, sir!” Peter said. He managed to hide his smile from his flustered mentor as he donned his apron.

#Amphora #You'll Rise Up Free and Easy

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tarenko · 7 years ago

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Taren’s Games of the Year!

Another year, another set of amazing games and holy shit did 2017 have some knockouts! Please keep in mind this is based only on games I was able to play and there were a few I missed!

Best Art Direction - Persona 5

Persona 5 is a game that bleeds A E S T H E T I C from every single piece of its body. The games use of a red and black color pallet for the menus as well as incredibly smooth animations and a jazzy, upbeat score make it an incredible sight to behold and a joy to hear. The gameplay is the best yet in the Persona series with the reintroduction to demon negotiation as well as a plethora of abilities unlocked through your confidants. It’s an incredible tight package with a good storyline (though I still prefer 3′s overall story). If you are a fan of RPG’s pick this game up. You will not regret it.

Best Soundtrack - Nier Automata

I need to put a lot more time into Nier Automata than I have. This game has 26 endings and I’ve only scratched the surface so far. What I’ve played has been pretty good and I can tell there’s far more to the story. Combat and visuals look and feel great thanks to Platinum Games compared to the original Nier albeit somewhat simplistic compared to something like a Devil May Cry game. Where Automata has truly stood out to me though is in the music. Every single track in this game has been incredible. One specific track that began to play after the conclusion of a side quest has stuck with me ever since and I’ve begun playing it regularly out of how incredibly beautiful it is. Nier Automata is well worth anyone’s time and is sure to touch your robotic heart.

Best Fighting Game - Tekken 7

Tekken 7 is a beautiful looking fighting game with plenty of content and more on the way. The story mode is silly but fun to go through, there’s an arcade mode, online is tight, and THERE’S BOWLING. Did I mention GEESE HOWARD IS IN THIS FUCKING GAME WHAT THE HELL. Pick this up if you have any sort of love for fighting games. Honorable mention goes to Injustice 2 which I did not get the chance to play but since launch is adding Hellboy AND the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to the roster.

Best Shooty Game - Splatoon 2

Splatoon 2 is more Splatoon with more content. More maps, more weapons, more missions, more game modes, more character styles and customization. More EVERYTHING. Updates are free and the game is still as fun as the original with many different ways to play and a great twist on shooting games as a whole where your primary target is the map rather than the enemies. Honorable mention goes to Wolfenstein 2: The New Colossus which I did not get the chance to play yet but I’ve heard many good things about. You get to shoot nazis so it gets an A in my book.

Best Racing Game - Mario Kart 8 Deluxe

This is kinda cheating as it’s sorta a rerelease of MK8 but Deluxe adds a proper battle mode now as well as a few new characters and all dlc included so I’m counting it anyway. This game is excellent. I have had so much fun with this game and being able to take my Switch to a friend’s place and both of us use a Joycon to have a few rounds is a total blast. Every single course is beautiful and fun as hell and the music for some stages is incredible. If you enjoy playing racing games with friends, don’t pass up this one.

Best 2D Platformer - Sonic Mania

Holy fuck. Sonic Mania is so good. From the visuals, to the music, to the gameplay, everything about it is tight and a blast from start to finish. The game is an excellent return to form for Sonic and the team of fans behind this have shown the world that Sonic can still go fast.

Best 3D Platformer - Mario Odyssey

HERE WE GO. OFF THE RAILS. DON’T YOU KNOW IT’S TIME TO RAISE OUR SAILS. IT’S FREEDOM LIKE YOU NEVER KNEW. Mario Odyssey is my first 3D Mario game ever and I have to say, It’s p good guys. Platforming is incredibly tight, levels are super varied and interesting, exploration is greatly rewarded, and there are so many different abilities at your disposal. The base story of the game can be fairly short depending on how you play through it but the game has hundreds of challenges for you ranging from reaching areas, solving puzzles, racing RC cars, to so much more. It’s a game that screams fun and becomes an incredibly enjoyable challenge once you start searching for those harder moons. Honorable Mention goes to A Hat in Time, a game that looks so incredibly cute and I’ve heard nothing but good things about from friends.

Best Game I Played this Year that Came Out Last Year - VA-11 HALL-A

Va-11 Hall-a. If anyone ever asks me what my aesthetic is I just need to point to this game. The music, the art style, the characters, the setting, everything about this game clicks with me on a personal level that I adore. The premise is fairly simple: you live in a cyberpunk future under a shitty government. You aren’t here to cause a big change in this world but rather to serve drinks for the people who live in it. As you do you’ll learn more about your patrons, the world, and even your player character, Jill. The gameplay isn’t too involved but can have some interesting effects on the story which is the main star of this Visual Novel. The main story and sub stories of this game are some of the most relatable and enjoyable ones I’ve seen in a while from a game and I loved every single one. It requires you to pay attention and remember certain conversations to see how people connect to each other and understand each person’s motivations. There was never a dull point in this game and I can not recommend it enough. Please buy VA-11 HALL-A. It’s time to mix drinks and change lives.

Best Game of the Year - Gravity Rush/The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Okay I’ve been stuck with this decision for the entire year and I still can’t decide between these two. They are both masterpieces and deserve high praise, so let’s go over them both.

Gravity Rush 2 is the sequel to the original Gravity Rush and improves on it in every possible way. The world is beautiful with a cel shaded sort of art style and strong use of color to give each area a different feeling. Music throughout the game is absolutely incredible and the story gives an excellent conclusion to what began in the first game. Combat and maneuvering are greatly improved and the game is simply fun to explore and experiment different ways of using your powers. The characters in Gravity Rush 2 are top notch and found myself loving each one for their unique personalities. Kat is an excellent protagonist and the feeling of flying between buildings, hopping from place to place gracefully is incredible. I can not recommend Gravity Rush 2 enough and think it is a must have for any PS4 owner.

Breath of the Wild is my first ever Zelda game and holy shit am I hooked. This game feels so incredible to play and the world is incredibly beautiful and fleshed out. There’s insane amounts of detail to all the different ways you can approach problems and the feeling of experiencing a world that both you and your character know nothing about and have no requirement to go a specific direction at the start is an incredible feeling. The game rewards exploration and experimentation and tells a story through recovered memories that tie into the present day beautifully. The soundtrack is understated and usually small piano melodies but when things get intense turns into these wild mixtures of techno and classical music. I loved every moment of learning my way through the world and discovering new challenges and quests. If you own a switch or wii u buy this game. It is incredible.

#gravity rush #botw #mario odyssey #sonic mania #persona 5 #nier automata #video games #goty #va-11 hall-a

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ars-simia-animus · 5 years ago

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You’ll Rise Up, Free and Easy

This story is considerably darker than the first; it follows Tony Stark’s difficult childhood. Please exercise safe reading-- the story is not meant to hurt anybody!

Read the story after the break.

Chapter One: “Chokeberry and Baby Cheeks”

Early May, 1868

Finally, Tony swallowed to force the remaining moisture evenly in his dry mouth and said, “Is Father going to be home tonight?”

Jarvis said sternly, “Let’s leave damnation to the clergy, shall we, sir? Unless you’re studying to become one?”

Tony scoffed then lowered his gaze deferentially.

Tony listened, blinking at him passively.

Jarvis’s voice softened. “The only time I might do so is if I deem your actions would lead you to greater danger than you would receive at Master Stark’s hands. Are we at an understanding?”

“Your friend, Master Potts?” Jarvis asked.

“The other boys wish to carve it, you say?”

“Yes, you know, Jarvis, like their initials or something, like people do.”

“I see, sir,” Jarvis said and paused to think. He looked at the chokeberry tree; it was still a sapling, though nearly mature. The foamy white buds swayed in their clusters in the Northern wind.

Tony also turned and looked at the tree. “Samuel thinks the flowers look like lace. He’s kind of silly, but a good kid .”

Jarvis was slightly amused by Tony’s condescending use of the term “kid” when he was scarcely eleven years old himself. “A special tree indeed, sir. However, I couldn’t advise you to endeavor to stop them by force.”