#they kept the time travel thing secret at first and then when he hysterically confronted them they explained kind of badly.

[nevertheless-moving]

stormlight au number 35 (help me i'm lost in the sauce)

Jasnah, Dalinar, and Renarin (surviving Kholin Radiants) travel from End of World all the way to right after Gavilar's death.

Vengeance pact still happens, but plays out very differently. We don't need absolutely every man in the kingdom to join the army, alright Elhokar? And we're making sure Dalinar is there to accept their surrender, actually win in reasonable time frame and 'conquer' them (no Alethi want to live out there anyway, and as long as they send gemhearts in tribute we won't enslave them. actually elhokar, your sister wanted to talk to you about slavery—).

Honestly, just an excuse for:

A) Adolin to have a breakdown that his entire family has been replaced by voidbringers, before eventually accepting with relief that they're still his family, they've just become voidbringers, but its ok because he loves them and will protect their increasingly heretical actions with his life. Hugs his glowing red and green eyed little brother a lot.

Adolin: do I — should I also learn to read?

Jasnah: do you want to?

Adolin: not really, no.

Renarin: to be honest, it's probably for the best if you just focus on being, well, a good Vorin Alethi. One of us probably should be, if we don't have a desolation as a distraction.

Adolin: ok! sure! I can do that. Also thought id mention that if possible, I would personally appreciate *not* having a desolation.

Jasnah: it may prove necessary.

Adolin: I know, i know. Just thought I'd put my feelings out there.

Dalinar: and we'll need you to produce Kholin heirs. Neither Renarin or Jasnah are likely to, and I'm not remarrying a younger woman.

Adolin: Sounds good!

B) Kholin family to have way too strong a reaction to this random darkeyed surgeon in training when they visit Kharbranth, scaring the absolute shit out of said darkeyed surgeon. Adolin walks into a wall when he sees Kaladin. He doesn't even know about the Radiant thing, it's just that

C) Kaladin dresses really hot in this au. Ok. I lied. this is actually the main reason for this au. It — there's a whole chain of events. I – don't look at me like that. The character development works, alright?

A lot of it boils down to distracting people from groping the female medical trainees.

He realizes that breathing in a certain way, while it makes you focus better and move faster, it also makes you more...present somehow? people pay attention to you, for better or worse. Some of the ladies teach him that there are different ways to channel people's focus on you, if they're looking anyway.

And apparently, for the first few years Kharbranth medical students, light and dark eyed alike, have basically no protections from wealthy patients or Lighteyed chief's of staff who are a bit too interested in teaching you to use your safehand, and its not like Kaladin can challenge them to a duel - he doesnt know how to fight, and it would get him and the person hes trying to protect kicked out of the program. So much for honorable lighteyes being real.

But I mean. If wearing some eyeliner, and a gemstone in your hair, if taking your right glove off first after an exam, conspicuously leaving the left on while talking, if bending over to pick his clipboard up in a certain way... if it gets people to not focus on his friends...

...one could probably get pretty angsty with this concept, ngl.

The Stormlight understanding and oaths come in time. There might also be some Radiant Disguise Superhero hijinks, havent fully decided but it's not really a major stretch from canon to say that Kharbranth struggles with violent crime. Also Kaladin gets to learn about institutional racism in school. It's great. I have a lot of Kaladin thoughts but so does everyone in this au so its ok.

Kholins visit Kharbranth:

Jasnah: you've been moping for days. Is your new fixation of the week not responding to your advances?

Adolin: I don't want to talk about it

Dalinar: son, you've clearly been in a mood—

Adolin: look, I'm not — the individual is not suitable for my station, alright? I'm not courting someone I could never actually marry, because that would be stupid.

Jasnah: while it would complicate matters, you know your brother and I have plans to alter the alethi codes around eye color, considering they're clearly a crude derivative of radiant mythologization

Dalinar: I thought we agreed that was low on the priority list

Jasnah: You said that uncle, Renarin most certainly did not agree, and his arguments are sound

Adolin: He's just some surgeon, alright! He's not just darkeyed, he's a darkeyed man. I said I'll get over it! I always do.

Dalinar: ah.

Jasnah: ...did you say surgeon?

Adolin: Yes? Why?

Dalinar: why does it —

Jasnah: how did you meet?

Adolin: He was — he was with this group of women at a winebar, and he was dressed like – but it turned out he just goes to protect them from - and it was so — why are you asking me about this?

Dalinar: Oh! A darkeyed surgeon. Protecting, you say? He sounds...honorable.

Jasnah: Very honorable.

Adolin: He is! He volunteers at this house for injured soldiers, and you wouldn't believe he'd never been to war, I mean his spear Katas — he's – it's like he was born for it —

Dalinar: He sounds like a fine young man. Perhaps you should bring him to meet us.

Adolin: I — while I appreciate that father, I really do, I thought I was the one who was supposed to well. I mean my role in...all of this is to produce heirs and look proper, right?

Jasnah: Hm. when you put it it that way...

Dalinar: I mean, Navani and I might be able to...

Jasnah: Don't be ridiculous. I'm perfectly capable of producing a child, should it prove absolutely necessary,

Adolin: Jasnah?

Jasnah: Provided the man you're courting is of worthy quality.

Adolin: We're not — I haven't been courting! I didn't think it was an option! I don't even know if he's interested! From what I can tell he has people throwing themselves at his feet all the time!

Jasnah: An abnormally honorable darkeyed surgeon, natural warrior, magnetically charismatic personality...yes that might make a worthwhile addition to the family.

Dalinar: I can write to Elhokar at once, recommend that he and Aseuden —

Jasnah: Uncle we've been over this — this is exactly the sort of thing that led to me insisting you come with me on this trip! If we cripple his ability to lead—

Adolin: Are we — are we moving into the discussing the future part of the evening, because I can go guard the door—

Dalinar: wait, when you say produce a child, you don't mean through soulcasting, right?

Jasnah: I don't see why I should answer that question.

Adolin: Yeah, i'm just going to go guard the door now

#stormlight archive #my au #stormlight au #nevertheless cosmere #stormlight au no 35 #adolin kholin #just to be clear adolin fully believes his family is voidbringers now he's just ride or die #they kept the time travel thing secret at first and then when he hysterically confronted them they explained kind of badly. #Dalinar: we're not—well technically we are the voidbringers. but that term is widely misunderstood! #and once Adolin was convinced they were still the same people he stopped asking religious questions

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: and I told the world Summary: Padmé is pregnant, Anakin is the father,” Obi-Wan replied and held up his bottle of Serenno wine. Or, Obi-Wan and the realization that Anakin is going to be a father at an age Obi-Wan wasn't even a Knight. AN: More light fix-it verse! Tackling the anidala verse.

The Temple was eerily silent as Obi-Wan walked through its halls. Not many Jedi were on Coruscant right now and the number of nocturnal Jedi was even lower. He was thankful for the quiet, unsure how well he’d handle a conversation right now. Someone’s kind fussing would eventually lead to Obi-Wan needing to confront the fact that Anakin’s last steps into adulthood had been done on bloodied battlefields, far away from him.

He reached his destination without a single interruption and soon found himself knocking against a familiar door. Years ago, even before the war, he might have hesitated to act so boldly over an issue that wasn’t even truly one and could have waited until morning. Fortunately, Obi-Wan was a member of the Council and had learned that not one member of it kept regular hours. As expected, the door opened and Mace stood in its entrance, looking as put-together as on a Benduday afternoon. He blinked, equally non-plussed about Obi-Wan’s appearance, his expression just a bit questioning. Obi-Wan ought to be sleeping, he’d just gotten home from a rather gruesome campaign, but he hadn’t been able to fall asleep after getting Anakin’s hysteric call.

“Obi-Wan, what can I do for you?” Mace asked.

“Padmé is pregnant, Anakin is the father,” Obi-Wan replied and held up his bottle of Serenno wine. It was an expensive gift from Dooku to Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan had meant to open it or smash it so many times but never ended up deciding on either course of action.

Now he finally knew what to do with it.

Mace closed his eyes and Obi-Wan thought he could hear a curse pass his lips, then the older Master stepped aside and let Obi-Wan inside.

He’d been in Mace’s quarters often enough that they were familiar to him. Shelves with plants and books covered the walls. Many of them were on various meditation techniques from across the entire galaxy. In one corner, his contrabass was starting to collect dust from months of no usage. Obi-Wan’s thoughts returned to his own violin, resting in its case in the corner of his wardrobe. Despite the dust on the instrument, the wall covered by trinkets and gifts of Padawans and thankful people alike was as pristine as always.

Obi-Wan sat down at the living room table as Mace returned with two wine glasses. Obi-Wan poured their glasses full and emptied his in one go. It was a very dry red wine, bitter too. Qui-Gon would have disliked it; Obi-Wan hated it.

Still, it seemed appropriate for the given situation.

“So,” Mace said, wetting his lips. “Care to repeat that first statement again?”

“Anakin called me about three hours ago,” Obi-Wan started. “He was frazzled. I thought it was because of his mission, but instead I learn that the cause for his distress is the message he got from Padmé about ten minutes before he called me.”

“Which, I assume, was of her informing Anakin that she is pregnant.”

“Yes.”

It had been a short text message. Anakin had read it out to him thrice in varying degrees of emotional turmoil, from cheerful excitement to bone-chilling terror. From the way he spoke, it had been clear to Obi-Wan that Anakin’s first instinct, before even attempting to sort through his emotions on his own, had been to call Obi-Wan. While it warmed him to know that Anakin trusted him so much and sought his support, Obi-Wan could have done without needing to calm Anakin down when he was still so unsettled himself.

Mace sighed. “Is Senator Amidala going to visit the Temple Healers tomorrow then?”

“Today,” Obi-Wan corrected absentmindedly. It was already far past midnight and Obi-Wan liked to try to keep track of time. It didn’t necessarily make the days spent in the trenches easier, but it ensured he didn’t totally lose contact with reality and got lost in the war. “And no, she won’t. She is currently on Alderaan, visiting Queen Breha, and I don’t think Anakin told her to visit the Healers here after. I’ll tell him or message her directly, perhaps.”

The entire situation was surreal.

His Padawan was going to become a father.

At his age, Obi-Wan hadn’t even thought about teaching a Padawan someday, had three years still until Anakin would be sleeping curled up next to him.

“We have to provide an alibi,” Mace stated. “If the public catches wind of why Senator Amidala is visiting the Temple, the situation is bound to escalate beyond our control.”

And that was putting it nicely. Padmé and Anakin’s relationship was a bit of an open secret in the Temple and among Padmé’s guards, but the public could not be allowed to learn of it. Padmé’s integrity would be doubted, each and every decision the Order made regarding Naboo since the Trade Federation’s invasion would be questioned. The Centrist faction would demand that Padmé lose her seat in the Senate. The balance between the Jedi and the government was already fragile and complicated enough without a scandal of this size threatening to throw everything into discord.

It wasn’t even as if Anakin were unaware of the danger.

No, Master, we’re not going to do anything stupid.

Well, stupid just happened.

Obi-Wan massaged his temples, feeling the pressure behind his forehead build up. Either his migraine was returning at full force – not unsurprising in these circumstances – or he was due for a particularly unpleasant vision.

Or maybe it was just the alcohol.

“And if Padmé won’t leave the Senate, and we honestly can’t afford her to leave, Anakin will have to leave the Order. Keeping an affair under wraps is one thing, but a child?” That wasn’t going to end pretty.

“The war comes closer to its end with every passing day,” Mace said. “Senator Amidala is well-trained and everyone close enough to Anakin to know can keep their mouth shut for a few more months. How far along is the Senator?”

“Three months.”

Which left them with six to end the war and let Anakin and Padmé decide which path they’d take after. Obi-Wan emptied his glass once more.

Anakin would be a father in six months.

Kriff.

His horror must show on his face because Mace readily refilled his glass but kept his own empty. One of them should keep their wits about themselves and Obi-Wan certainly wasn’t going to be it.

“Do you want me to help you come up with excuses for the Senator, keep you from emptying this bottle on your own, or listen to you talk some more?” Mace asked after a long silence.

Obi-Wan was a good orator, he didn’t need any help spinning a story, and he could drink much more than just one bottle of wine before he truly needed someone to keep an eye on him.

“I don’t know the first thing about newborns,” Obi-Wan said, choosing the third option.

This was not the most conventional way for a lineage to grow, but theirs wasn’t exactly one to do things by the book necessarily. And, beyond wanting politics to stay out of their business, Obi-Wan wanted to be there for his family. Anakin had lived half in his mind for over a decade now. Even days’ travel away, shields locked tight, Obi-Wan could still feel the other half of his soul.

Regardless of what the parents-to-be chose, Anakin and Obi-Wan were still Jedi and their Order raised its children in a loving community. And if that could not happen in the Temple, Obi-Wan was sure that nobody would mind if he took a few years off once this blasted war ended.

Mace smiled. “Then I suggest you learn.”

#obi wan kenobi #mace windu #anakin skywalker #padmé amidala #anidala #star wars #fanfic #light fix it verse

[awkwardplantwrites]

Finding Magic Chapter Four

Posting early this week! 

Chapter 4: 2090 words / Reading time: 10 minutes

Genre: Fantasy/Adventure/Action

Find the chapter on wattpad (Bippick is my wattpad username)

New to the story? Missed some updates? Find all the chapters here on tumblr

(Artwork by @pe-ersona ~ Reblogs and comments are appreciated :D )

When Renato woke up the next morning, Pepi wasn't sitting by the door. Renato drew the curtains open and looked out the window. People pitched coloured tents in the town center, they hung triangles on strings between buildings, and children (or small people?) dressed in costumes of creatures he recognized from his folklore books. Someone knocked at the door.

"Come in," Renato said, rubbing his eyes.

Helaine walked in holding a hot drink that steamed. "Brought you a hangover cure. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, surprisingly. I don't even have a headache."

Helaine rolled her eyes and tutted. "To be young... Okay, in that case, this is a thank you for finding Rizze."

"Thank you. Or you're welcome? I would've brought him back even if you didn't serve me beverages." He took the drink from her and blew over the top, the liquid rippled. "You're ten years older than me, aren't you? Thirty-three is still young."

"A lot can change in ten years," she mused and sat on the bed. "For example, I travelled here from Bhārat as a merchant, selling my family's spices. Fell in love with a beautiful girl. Found myself at home in this town. Had an argument with my family that spanned hundreds of letters when I told them I wouldn't return. Opened a spice shop. Closed it. Re-opened and began selling flowers. Met a duo with outrageous ideas who pulled them off without a hitch. Earned a headache after a night of celebration..." Helaine grimaced and took a sip from her cup.

"What a wonderful way to spend ten years. Though last night was hardly without a hitch, we nearly got caught. Rizze kept scratching me on the way back too," Renato trailed off. "I think there's something going on with Pepi. He was cheerful last night, but it felt forced. Normally he waits until I wake up to wander off, but..." He gestured to the empty chair. "I'm not sure if I should ask him about it. Pepi's good at talking without saying much of anything at all."

"Kater is similar, I know how you feel."

"Don't you find it frustrating? How can you get along with someone who's like that? I feel like he's lying to me by not telling me the whole truth."

Taking another sip, Helaine was quiet as she thought. "It can be tiresome, having a relationship with someone who avoids issues when you'd rather confront them, get it over with. Kater gets so concerned about hurting my feelings."

Helaine pushed up her glasses. "Sometimes she avoids problems because she's indecisive, and would rather figure it out herself before giving me an answer. It's about trust. Sharing secrets means there's a chance the other person will learn the truth and never speak to them again. Or they'll think differently of that person for the rest of time. It's a vulnerable place to be. And it's not an unfounded fear, as no-one can predict the future."

"Try telling that to Pepi. He visited a diviner the other day."

"Kater tries to read her palms. She's convinced she'll die young because her'health line is shorter than average,'" Helaine chuckled. "You're a nice boy, I reckon Pepi trusts you but isn't ready to take down his emotional barriers. It's like a shield for him. He respects you too much and doesn't want to bother you."

Renato frowned. "Too much?"

"He's your squire, right?" Renato nodded. "That's not quite equal to a knight, is it? Especially not one chosen by a god." She scrunched her nose. "What does that mean exactly? How are you different from regular magic users?"

"Me spells are more powerful, and I'm able to use more magic than the average person. I can speak to Lidion if I stare long enough at some water. It's not all that special. Gives me a lot more work to do though."

"You're doing a great job. No-one would think you're ill," she remarked.

Renato blinked in surprise. "Apart from you, somehow."

"I like to pick up on the little things. They matter the most." Helaine smiled.

Nodding, Renato turned to look out the window again. "What's happening outside?"

Helaine peered out the window. "It's Spirt's Eve already? Oh, Kater will be in a hurry to set up decorations today. She's always leaving these things to the last minute."

"What's Spirit's Eve?"

Searching Renato's eyes, Helaine scrunched her nose. "It's a holiday, where we celebrate the lives of people who lived, and walk amongst beings and creatures from folklore."

"It looks exciting. We don't have holidays in Llantry."

"You celebrate nothing? You don't even have one day to share a feast? Or a day of rest?"

As Renato shrugged and shook his head, Kater's voice resounded through the Inn while she yelled.

"I'm telling you, I've met no one of the sort! Get out of my establishment!"

Pepi appeared at the door, poking his head through the crack. "I may have, uh, tipped off the folk at the manor about our location last night by accident. We should go."

Kater screamed downstairs. A glass smashed.

"Preferably now," Pepi added

Helaine rushed out the room. Renato threw his blanket to the side of the bed. He got dressed, brushing Pepi off when he tried to help, and told him to find a way out instead. Pepi left with Finlay trailing behind him, pulsing black and red light.

Renato stuffed his night clothes into his bag, taking out his pocket mirror for a moment to fix his hair. Pepi opened the door again.

"There's a patch of straw outside the hallway window," Pepi told Renato. "We have to jump, there's no other way out."

Wanting to protest, Renato opened his mouth, but closed it again when he realized he didn't have time to argue. The sound of shouting spurred him on. He clutched his bag to his chest and followed Pepi to the window. When it was his turn to jump, he sent a short prayer to Lidion, hoped he wouldn't break anything a healer couldn't fix, and leapt onto the straw. He landed with a roll and limped to the wagon, peeking at the front entrance of the Inn where Kater kept the Wakefield knights occupied. A man wearing an apron turned at the sound of their horse neighing, which Pepi tried to calm down, and he pointed in their direction.

"That's them! Hurry, before they get away!"

Renato tumbled into the back of the wagon, Pepi climbed into the jockey box and tugged at the reins.

"Bye Kater, Helaine! Nice meeting you for the first time, again!" Pepi yelled. "We'll come back someday. Save me some ale!"

Renato also called out a goodbye, waving from the rear of the wagon, then ducked down when the Wakefield knights started bombing them with spells. The wagon swerved, Pepi tried to dodge the spells and the tents on the street.

"Sorry!" Pepi shouted. "That pumpkin looked swell, carve another masterpiece, kid!"

Renato watched as the knights found a wagon of their own. "Pepi, they'll catch up soon, what do we do?"

"I don't know! You're the hero, figure something out, I'm driving!"

Searching for any tools, Renato noticed children hitting colourful horses with wooden sticks, which exploded with treats after being beaten. He grabbed the next one he found, snatching it off the string as children wailed. Ripping the horse apart, it revealed rock-solid cinnamon buns. Renato threw them at the knights chasing them.

"Are these supposed to be edible?" he cried.

They turned a sharp corner, and Renato lost his grip on the shredded treat filled horse, while Pepi struggled to steady the real horse. Renato watched the corner they'd passed, and a smile formed on his lips. They'd lost their chasers!

That smile vanished when the knights also turned the corner, using magic to propel their wagon to go faster.

"Stopcheating!" Renato made a face at the other wagon.

"Wha- are you a child?!" A knight he recognized from the previous night, who'd invited him to play Bone Crowns, shouted at him. "Stop your vehicle this instant!"

"I thought we were buddies!" Renato narrowly avoided being struck by another spell. "You said I was more fun than regular Larry, and I am! But I won't be if you try to kill me!"

"This isn't a game, you dunce!"

"It is so, now let me win!" Renato grabbed a flower basket, apologized to Helaine in his head, and threw it at the wagon. It hit a knight in the face. "Fifty points to me."

For a second they faltered, but they grew faster, eventually overtaking them. The knights banged the wagon into the side of theirs, tearing at the cover with daggers. Renato yelped and tried to stay on the safe side. Then Pepi cried out, and Renato saw they caught him in a magic rope that tied itself around his wrist. Their cart veered out of control. Renato raced over to the jockey box, yanking at the rope, which flew from the apron man's grasp. Unfortunately, that end of the rope tied itself around Renato's wrist, tying the two of them together. He scrambled for the reins with one hand and screamed with every ounce of energy in his body.

"LIDION, I NEED YOU! PLEASE!"

With a great gust of wind, Lidion answered his prayer; the wind slowed the other wagon down to a halt; the wheels snapped in half, rendering the knights immobile. For the first time in months, Renato laughed. It became hysterical, and he clutched his stomach when he saw the knights still trying to shoot spells at them as they rode away.

Then a ticking grenade landed inside the wagon and it wasn't funny anymore.

"Jump, Pepi!"

"I have to unharness the horse!"

"No time!" Renato pushed Pepi to the road.

The horse screeched in fear, racing on ahead with no-one to guide it. Lying on the road, Pepi and Renato shielded their eyes as the wagon exploded. A sharp, loud buzzing filled their ears. Pepi looked like he was shouting, but Renato couldn't hear his words. Looking back, he noticed the knights followed them on foot. He pulled Pepi up with the hand tied to him and ran past the wagon.

Pepi tried to go back for the horse but Renato had a firm grip on his hand and heaved the other man away from the scene. Glancing back at the knights, he saw they'd stopped running, standing at the outskirts of town where a sign stood, thanking them for visiting. He blew a raspberry at Wakefield and continued dragging Pepi as fast and far as they could go.

As Renato's hearing returned to normal, he noticed both their panting and slowed to a halt, shoving off his bag, collapsing alongside Pepi onto the grass. How far had they ran from Wakefield? He didn't know. It didn't matter as long as they were safe. He couldn't gather the strength to see where they lay. All he knew was: it was raining, the surrounding trees stood taller than any he'd ever seen, and Pepi's hand was warm in his.

"Pepi," he gasped. "Why didn't we take a boat?"

"... Shit. Wait, no, I can justify this! Uh... Do you know anyone who has a boat?" Finlay darted around Pepi, flashing a purple light.

"Well, no," Renato replied.

"Neither do I."

"We could have asked someone who has a boat though," Renato noted. "I don't think your reasoning covers up this plot hole or my wounded pride enough."

"In that case," Pepi breathed. "They enchanted the water around Adhur. See, Adhur's a low floating island. One too many ships bumped into it. So they cast a spell that meant no-one can sail near Adhur," Pepi explained. "Sailors get confused and go around it. The island has griffins that pick up people from the mainland."

Renato sighed. "Could've got a boat somewhere close to Adhur though."

"I get seasick?" Finlay began to turn orange. "Finlay stop giving me away, you're supposed to catch other people's lies not mine," Pepi whispered.

"Okay, and I'm afraid of large bodies of water. So that's why we couldn't sail. That makes a logical argument. I can sleep soundly knowing the plot makes sense."

"We could be sailors in another universe, another story." Pepi squeezed his hand.

Renato laced their fingers. "In another universe I'd be Rizze, sleeping all day in a sunny spot of The Ugly Snail."

Renato and Pepi wheezed with weak laughter, resting where they lay.

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[novarainart]

Before Sunset (Stony part 2)

“Stark never mentioned you.”

Steve immediately regretted his bluntness when he saw the shadow of hurt cross Peggy’s beleaguered eyes. Damn his lack of tact.

During Peggy’s final days, it was painfully obvious her condition was only worsening. It was apparent in her thinness, the sparseness of her whitened hair, the strain with every movement, and rarer lucid moments. Yet, as a testament to the strength she once exuded as The Agent Carter, she fought tooth and nail to last one more day--one more moment--for those she loved. Those, who weren’t ready to say goodbye.

Like Steve.  

Of course he tried to be strong for Peggy, starting each visit with the decision of losing her, a life before the ice. At least, that’s how it would start. Instead, each visit ended with an unspoken plea for her to stay and, without fail, she would hear him. He knew he was being selfish, knew she was content with her own mortality, but...

Steve was just a man.  

Not a super-soldier--damn being a super-soldier--but a man. And he was absolutely terrified of losing her, of what that could mean.  

Steve gently grasped her hand, pulling it close to his chest as he leaned in from where he sat beside her hospital bed. Peggy was already smiling at him, soft and understanding, her reassurance cutting off his apology.

“It’s all right, Steve,” she said firmly. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. In all honesty, I’m not that surprised.”

Steve brushed a light kiss over Peggy’s knuckles in gratitude, then rubbed little circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Sensing she had more to say, he waited for her to continue. Her eyes flickered down to their joined hands, her smile turning sad with bitter edges. Closing her eyes as if to steel her nerve, she breathed a sigh before squarely meeting his gaze.  

“After we lost you, Howard completely changed.”  

Steve quietly listened as Peggy recounted Howard’s descent into alcoholism, fueled by the irrational belief that with Steve’s death went his only chance of ever creating anything good for the world. (“Stupid man,” she hissed.) The man tolerated living by existing down the neck of a bottle. Too stubborn to end his own life, Howard fashioned himself a new purpose: weapons manufacturing. Stark Industries became an empire of weaponry, built on Howard’s need to mask his weaknesses, to destroy any lingering vulnerability.

And with it, his humanity.        

After years of obsessive entrepreneurship, wild philandering, and escalating alcoholism; Maria Carbonell entered Howard’s life and managed to stave his self-destruction by loving him. However, the reprieve was short-lived. When Maria gave birth to their son, Anthony, Howard recoiled in the face of fatherhood and retreated back to the comfort of Stark Industries.

And to the bottle.  

Meanwhile, S.H.I.E.L.D. continued to contract Howard, willfully blind to his spiraling so long as he kept them stocked with state of the art weapons. Peggy maintained her close, albeit tumultuous, friendship with Howard and attempted to intervene when she could. It led her to form a surprisingly close friendship with Maria.

Peggy explained their friendship was gradual, starting with a dinner invitation after an impromptu visit to Stark estate on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. Both women bonded over shared interests and it steadily progressed to outings, like for tea and coffee, or to the park for little Anthony. Peggy admitted she quickly grew attached to Anthony, even volunteering to watch him when Howard and Maria traveled abroad, despite their available housestaff.  

“He was such a sweet, sensitive child,” said Peggy, beaming at the memory, “very loving, but so quiet and so painfully shy. It took him some months to get used to me, but he did.”

“That’s hard to imagine,” Steve couldn’t hide his disbelief. The image of a shy little boy clashed with the hyperverbal and abrasive man he remembered from the invasion of New York.   

Peggy eyed him reproachfully, effectively shutting him up.

“It’s true he’s changed much over the years, but I’m certain you can thank Howard for that.” She gave a derisive sniff.

“Anthony was beyond gifted and that kind of intellect would have felt like a curse,” she said matter of factly. “Children like that are branded as different--treated different--they start thinking they’re a mistake or unwanted. It’s even worse when that difference is punished by their own parent.”  

Steve realized he could empathize with Stark.

Steve knew what it was like to be “different” from what society considered “normal.” He was born with a “different” body, near handicapped and unable to play with the other children. His head was filled with “different” thoughts, an attraction to men, a shameful secret too dangerous to reveal back then. “Different” was society’s polite way of saying “bad,” “unworthy,” and “unacceptable.”    

A pang of guilt struck him for judging Stark.    

Seeing Peggy’s stern face, Steve was reminded that she, too, could relate. He recalled their first meeting: Private Hodge’s crude, sexist remarks and Agent Carter’s fist meeting his face in righteous reply. Indeed, she was no stranger to being “different,” spending years judged or rejected solely for being a woman in a supposed man’s world. In the end, she persisted and made others respect her. Peggy never allowed herself to just “make do” with her differences, she embraced them, empowered by them.

She showed Steve what self-acceptance could look like.  

Meeting Peggy had been the catalyst for Steve to begin accepting himself. Before Peggy, those back alley fights and military dreams were attempts to prove his worth, prove he can be good even if defective--a feeble nancy boy. He’d later realize his recklessness stemmed from a seed of self-loathing. It whispered, ‘I’m not good enough.’ After Peggy, he learned to tell himself, ‘I’m more than enough.’

Steve was torn from his musings when Peggy continued.

“Maria loved Anthony, unconditionally so. She tried to protect him from feeling apart from other children, but...” she paused, her hand tightening in his, “Howard was not so forgiving.”    

As their friendship grew, Maria started confiding in Peggy about concerns for her family. How Howard held Anthony to such high expectations. How Howard too readily expressed his disappointment in Anthony. How Howard seemed threatened by Anthony’s budding genius.

Apparently, Howard was willing to go far to punish his son for his own shortcomings.

At three years old, Anthony’s IQ was tested and ranked well into genius level. Instead of pride, Howard justified the need to further distance himself from his son. He was convinced affection would only detract from the boy’s genius and cripple him with childish wants. He believed unnecessary attention would make the boy soft. So, if Anthony wanted acknowledgement from Howard, he would have to earn it.

And, oh, how the boy tried.

He tried everyday to earn his father’s love.    

What little time father did spend with son consisted of condescending lectures and grueling projects. Each test a failure, in one way or another, according to the unachievable bar set by Howard, himself. At times, he would punish Anthony’s failures with vicious insults, other times with a heavy hand, but always with a stiff drink or two (or five) already in him.

At four years old, Anthony created his first circuit board. A big achievement for a little boy with hands too small to even nudge his father awake from a drunken stupor to appreciate it. At five years old, Anthony contracted chickenpox. His father forbade his mother from risking contamination by visiting the hospital. Their butler, Jarvis, was sent to check in on him as an afterthought. At six years old, Anthony found the courage to share his academic accolades with his father, like sacrificial offerings to appease a wrathful god. His father simply pushed past him to pour a drink, remarking on the ridiculous trend of schools celebrating mediocrity.  

Steve swallowed hard as he forced himself to continue listening, his body drawn taut, but keeping his hands gentle around Peggy’s. Disgust gnawed at the pit of his stomach as he took in the information he was fed.   

“What Maria was unable or unwilling to tell me, I learned from Anthony when he would stay with me. I felt so betrayed--not for myself, but-- for Maria and for Anthony. I confronted Howard, of course, and it was ugly.” Peggy’s voice began to rise in anger, her eyes flashing like dark clouds heralding a maelstrom.

“I couldn’t protect Anthony, not with Howard’s endless resources. He made sure I was kept away and any cage rattling I did was stilled, any court I appealed to was swayed by his money. ‘Silly complaints from a hysterical woman,’ they said. (She scoffed) S.H.I.E.L.D. was no better; one child’s safety was worth trading for a better arsenal. After a year or so, I learned Howard removed Anthony to boarding school and Maria was made to sever ties with me. I had no way of reaching out to him.  

“After the accident, I had to stop myself from combing the media for news about Anthony. All the revolting things they’d smear about him, soulless cowards--it was destroying a part of me. I had to move on. But even though I lost Anthony, I still...I-I still...think a-about h-him.” She faltered.   

With a sharp intake of breath, Peggy leaned back into the mountain of pillows stacked behind her. Closing her eyes, brows knitted, she grimaced as the brunt of the pain hit her. Steve knew it would be pointless to ask her if she was OK. Increased pain was par for the course, unfortunately. Freeing a hand, he gingerly rubbed her blanketed stomach and attempted to distract her.

“When I came back, I tried tracking down everyone from the war. I wanted to know who made it out, who got to live it out like we talked about in the trenches. I never would have guessed all of this about Howard,” he said, disillusionment laced with disappointment. “But, if you and Stark were so close before--I mean, even if Howard prevented you from seeing him, he would have remembered. He should have at least mentioned you, right?”

Steve recalled the S.H.I.E.L.D. reports issued to him when Loki stole the Tesseract, each a detailed profile on the Avengers. He knew his own profile was likely given to the others and would have included Project Rebirth, would have documented the involvement of one Agent Margaret “Peggy” Carter. Stark would have seen that, put two-and-two together, and...

He said nothing to Steve.

Granted, what Stark divulged or not was his choice and they were busy fighting a massive alien invasion at the time. Somehow, a part of Steve still felt unsatisfied by this. However, if he were honest with himself, their introductions were less than ideal, so really, would he have been open to a heart-to-heart with Stark then? Probably not. At least they parted on agreeable terms or he liked to think so.  

Besides, reconnecting with the past has been Steve’s mission. Not Stark’s.

After tense moments of paced breathing, Peggy eventually relaxed. Opening her eyes to stare up at the bland ceiling, a noticeable shimmer glossed over her world weary eyes. A tear managed to glide down the many valleys of her face when she turned her head towards Steve, but she paid it no mind. The corners of her mouth curled, heavy with emotion and with a knowing that only the seasoned in life were privy to.    

“What you are missing, Steve, is how tempting it is to run away from ourselves when all we know is pain. The deeper the pain, the further we run, especially when we think ourselves responsible, like all children often do. Genius or not, Anthony was no exception and even if he was, Howard made sure he thought everything was his fault. So, no, I’m not surprised he didn’t mention me. I’m forever tied to something much too painful.”

More tears chased a path down her cheeks, her next words gaining a depth of meaning.

“All we can do is our best and, sometimes, the best that we can do is to start over. I wanted that for Anthony and now, I want that for you, Steve. Live this new life and be happy. Forget the past, but remember to live today.”

#fanfiction #steve rogers #peggy carter #tony stark #howard stark #maria stark #memory sequence #been sitting unfinished forever #just wanted to get it out there #tired of staring at it in my saved files #unfinished Stony fic