Tony Stark Imagines [Requests Open]

tony//butterfiles

Before events of IM3 and there is no Pepperony
The reader can enter the dream realm and is able to manipulate people's dreams.

TW: Nightmares, anxiety attacks

Words: 1450

He always loses.
Every time a little piece of his life, whenever it would be a person or thing or even his trait.

And after all those events, his old self was forgotten. He had changed from a man who thought that he owned the world to a scarred, tiny being, hiding behind his shell.

He was being able to keep this mask on in public, but when alone, his pain was leaking through the cracks till it fell completely and he would finally cry, until there were no more tears to come, falling asleep. But even there rest would never come. Nightmares welcomed him every time, making his already miserable life hell. Darkness would greet him with worse and worse ideas every time.

Exhaustion started to reach its critical peak, causing him to stand at the brink of death. Again. But this time it wasn't because of his self-destructive tendencies like partying till death, not this time. It was all because he tried so hard to be a hero. To save everyone except himself.

He just wanted to be better. Why then life hated him? Why he had nightmares? He was doing everything in his power to redeem himself, to help the others. Is this his redemption? Does he have to suffer all his miserable life for all the deaths he caused? He only knew that he was living through hell and that he deserved it (even if he don't).

Today was one of those days when his exhaustion reached the point when he would fall helplessly on the ground with no strength to move. He wanted to avoid that, so that's why he was standing in his lab drinking his fifth coffee today, with a small dose of whiskey. It truly was a miracle that he didn't drink oil at this point.

His slow movements above another part of his suit were snarly and aimless. He already missed the wire he was supposed to cut three times already. Frustrated, he threw lineman's pliers and slammed his fists on the table, unconsciously causing half of the parts to fall on the ground.

Holding his head in his hands, he sighed and tried to focus on anything. His thoughts were blurry and made no sense. Desperately trying to stay awake to keep nightmares away, he picked up a metal shard and stabbed himself in the hand. Unfortunately, even pain was dulled and partly ignored by his body. Blood flowed outside his veins, leaving marks on the floor.

Sliding on the floor, he saw crimson blood becoming rainbow-like, everything blurred. He could hear a faint voice of JARVIS in the background however darkness was stronger, sucking him into another world of his greatest fears.

Battle of New York, again.

He flew through the sky, holding nuke, trying to save everyone whos lives were way more valuable than his.

Red around him was giving him chills, that he won't be able to do the only thing he is good enough to do. To die for the others, to bring redemption upon himself. Maybe then the world will become a better place.

Feeling the last boost of his armour, he bounced off his tower and flew through the scape gate. Even if it was impossible, he could swear that temperature rapidly dropped inside his suit, deadly breeze crossing his bones, penetrating his guts, leaving ice inside. Fear was overwhelming, causing him to ironically freeze, leaving him to watch small light of nuke flying towards mother ship of their enemy.

He saw the growing explosion, light engulfing everything. The rapid pace of flames consuming empty space rushing towards him. After a few seconds, it reached him and blew him far away from the place he previously stopped. Gate was closed, so instead of going back, he floated in space, with no hope of going back. No power in his suit caused coldness of space to slip through damaged armour, slowly and painfully freezing him. This was the end.

Screaming hopelessly for help, he froze, dying alone in the darkness. His biggest nightmare becoming reality. Suddenly it was all gone.

His suit, complete darkness, coldness. Everything disappeared, leaving him terrified of another fear coming back to life. However, nothing like that happened.

He was standing in the middle of a meadow, placed on a small hill. On the right side of him, there was a dark, crystal-like tree with leaves made with some kind of metal. The sky looked like a beautiful painting, with purples and dark blue mixing with oranges. Stars were small and there were no moon or sun, despite delicate glow consuming this whole place. Dark purple grass and dark red and gold leaves were rustling in the cold breeze. But this cold was more comforting than harmful.

He sat down on the ground, confused by this peaceful anomaly. He wasn't scared anymore. It was quiet but not completely quiet. He was alone, but he didn't feel lonely. He felt presence somewhere near him, maybe behind this tree? Nevertheless, he didn't want to disturb this peaceful atmosphere and lose his chance to have some calming experience, being no stressed at all.

Suddenly, two levels fell from the tree. They melt into one single butterfly, black with (f/c) highlights. It slowly wandered around him while he leaned back and made himself comfortable on the soft, cottonlike grass. The small animal sat on his chest, sitting in place, unnaturally not moving for a little while. When he was becoming suspicious, a butterfly flew away, however stating in his range of sight. It was the first peaceful night he had since New York. And he didn't want to wake up.

But everything had co time to an end.

Annoying beeping welcomed him in the real world. Not the greatest welcome in his opinion.

Slowly opening his eyes, he felt rough sheets around him. Feeling way more rested than any time before, he stretched, not alarmed by a hospital like an environment. At least it wasn't a cave.

The door opened revealing a young nurse and a doctor behind her. They entered the room and started talking.

***

After returning to his mansion and explaining that he hadn't tried to commit suicide and that it was just an accident, his fears came back again. He was afraid that his dream was just a one-time thing it a hallucination from a bloodloss. He didn't want to have nightmares again, even if he thought that he deserved every single second of it.

Falling back into his avoiding dreams routine, he again closed himself in the lab, focusing on making perfect armour, making one for every single ridiculous situation he could come up with. Drinking again gallons of coffee and alcohol, he tried to mollify his pain. But sleep wasn't going to leave him that easily. It came and consumed him, this time while waiting for the coffee machine to provide him another dose of glorious caffeine.

Nightmare struck again, throwing him this time into the cave in Afghanistan. Pain overwhelmed him, from the moment the deadly shrapnel entered his chest to all kind of neverending tortures to built weapons for terrorists. His hopeless screams of pain and fear transfixed this cruel reality yet again, to the moment when his throat became sore. And again, it all stopped in one moment, when he returned to that peaceful place.

But this time when he lied down, there were two butterflies instead of one.

When he woke up, his mind was still a little foggy and he asked his faithful A.I. on what planet he is. After the obvious answer, he silently thanked whatever was causing his nightmares to become dreams.

This was happening every time he went to sleep. The first nightmare would arrive, then everything changed to that blessed place. And every time there would be something new, more butterflies or beautiful flowers. He never thought that peaceful meadow would be his heaven, but he definitely preferred that than nightmares. He was slowly overcoming his fear of falling asleep.

This time it was different. The presence was more palpable than ever.

He sat up slightly shocked the moment somebody sat beside him.

The person had (h/c) hair and (s/t) skin. Its surface was reflecting the soft glow of the environment, causing them to look like they were glowing. Their mesmerizing (e/c) eyes were gazing on his own chocolate brown orbs.

Soft material they wore was floating a little in the breeze, looking like the most beautiful galaxy. Overall, he thought that he just saw a divinity.
On their hand, a butterfly slowly formed, joining the others on the field filled with flowers.

"Greetings"