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renaerys · 3 years

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22. for reds 🤡

This is 100% not what you asked for (yet...👀), but I give you part 1 of what we're calling the Weird King AU. I'm turning this into a proper multi-chapter High School fic because I love you and I'd jump on any bandwagon for you.

xxx

Like most young, conventionally attractive Supervillains, Brick had made a bit of a habit of failing upwards. It was pretty easy in a town full of simpering morons content to project their own narrative assumptions onto him, and who was he to crush their dreams when they made his life a little easier?

For example, dating.

“You can tell me, you know.” His cute date, Tracy, sipped her milkshake across from him.

“Tell you what?”

She softened and reached her hand across the table. “Your tragic backstory. I’ll listen without judgment, I promise.”

Brick tried to think of something tragic, but it all seemed pretty underwhelming as far as Supervillain origin stories went. “You mean like how I was born in a toilet?”

She made an oh shape with her lips. “We all have those days where we feel like we were born in a toilet, Brick.”

He’d dated Tracy for three months before she broke up with him out of the blue in tears: sorry she couldn’t fix his baggage, she just wasn’t strong enough to handle all that tortured darkness, but she wished him nothing but health and happiness. Brick deleted her number from his phone and spent twenty whole minutes staring at the toilet in his bathroom, wondering what the lesson here was.

But everything changed when Mojo got out of prison and moved Brick and his brothers back to Townsville, where he enrolled them in the local high school alongside their former arch nemeses, the Powerpuff Girls.

Suddenly, everything Brick did pre-supposed ill intent. These people remembered him as the pest who had graffitied their local monuments and blown up their cars and endangered their children. They held no love for him, and at best they feared him. This was not Citiesville, where he’d been a tall, cold glass of Voss water in a sea of recycled Dasani.

He found himself thinking about his birthing toilet again as he stepped into the cafeteria alone and the conversation quieted down as his new classmates watched him from the safety of their tables. His next moves here were critical. He was no longer at the top of the food chain, but fear and mystery surrounding his origins and character gave him a certain power over his peers.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of social suicide, I will fear no cringe,” he said to himself.

The jocks were out. Capable though he may be, Brick was not much of a team player unless there was a blood contract involved requiring his participation on pain of satanic torture. The drama kids were also a hard pass, not because he thought drama was lame, but because they had barely noticed him walk in, and Brick did not have the energy to deal with people more self-involved than himself. Some of the unaffiliated tables could be safe, but without a good understanding of the nuanced social dynamics in the high school, he could be heading toward irreversible doom, and that was a risk he was not willing to take.

He saw his salvation just ahead. It was the only option, all else being equal. In an environment where he couldn’t be certain of his baseline status and potential for upward mobility, there was greatness to be had only by association and certainty only in the devil he knew.

Brick helped himself to the empty seat directly across from Blossom Utonium to a chorus of gasps and staring.

Blossom did not startle like her table mates had. She watched him critically behind a head full of bangs as she balanced her soup spoon in her hand. “Really.”

Brick unwrapped the burrito he’d purchased in the lunch line and brandished it before him. “Really.”

He took a bite of the burrito. It was not hot enough. The two girls to Blossom’s left whispered to each other about that bad boy and he’s hot, though.

Blossom daintily spooned soup into her mouth without spilling a single drop as she continued to watch Brick for signs of his imminent dark side transformation.

The guy next to Brick was brave enough to ask him what his next class was. Brick had a mouth full of disappointing burrito, so he passed the guy the printout of his class schedule in lieu of answering.

“Wow, all APs, huh? Hey, we’re in U.S. History together next period, nice. I’m Mike Believe, by the way. Brick Jojo, right?”

Brick didn’t answer him immediately on account of the burrito currently occupying his mouth hole, and Mike took it the wrong way.

“Oh, yeah, we all know who you are. Blossom sort of filled us in.” He winced like he’d inadvertently revealed a terrible secret.

Brick swallowed his food and washed it down with a gulp of water. “Saves me some time.”

Mike looked super relieved. “For sure! Hey, I could lend you my notes if you want to catch up. Gershwin’s giving a quiz on the Progressive Era on Friday, and she’s a hard-ass who definitely won’t care that you just transferred…”

Brick chewed on his lunch as Mike continued to talk at him about classes and other vaguely helpful, albeit uninteresting, information. But Mike seemed normal enough, a little chatty but not in an overeager sort of way. Blossom was no longer clocking his every move and seemed to be absorbed in her friend’s latest swim team cheating scandal, until Brick reached for his water bottle and she suddenly laser-focused on his wandering hand.

Her keen attention to him was honestly flattering, if expected. It was in his nature to be noticed, and in this narrow respect she was no different from anyone else whose head he turned. If she chose to feed her interest with the flames of suspicion, then it was no difference to him.

But if she was anything like him—and on a chemical level she was probably the closest to him that a person could get—he suspected it took tremendous effort to hold her full and sustained attention. The world they inhabited was as vapid and mundane as the humans that surrounded them, and even the most gracious of gods grew bored of worship. Which explained all the smiting and fucking and generational curses upon entire households in everything from Greek mythology to the Old Testament.

Brick was pretty deep into a fantasy of Blossom going full Ixion and the Wheel on the swim team when Mike tapped his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

It took him a moment to realize the bell had rung and he had a class to get to—AP U.S. History with Mike, apparently. Brick gathered his tray and his bag and followed Mike. When he looked back at the table, Blossom was already gone.

xxx

That whole first week was painfully boring. No one bullied him, or pranked him, or picked a fight with him, of course. But no one really approached him, either. His brothers were more determined to make an effort. Boomer announced he was trying out for the soccer team because there was no rule saying a Super with extremely well documented ties to active criminals and the forces of Hell couldn’t kick a ball around a field. Butch had gotten himself invited to a midnight screening of Snakes on a Plane in some rich kid’s home movie theater, but only after that same kid had accidentally spilled milk on Butch and burst into tears in front of a cafeteria full of Juniors and Seniors. Brick declined the invitation Butch extended to him. He had that AP U.S. History exam to study for on Friday, anyway.

He shared all of his classes with Blossom. Even in the classes where her assigned seat was behind his and he couldn’t see her, he could feel her lobotomizing stare at the back of his head whenever she glanced up from her notebook. And while Mike’s notes were perfectly adequate and the friendly gesture counted for more than the content (a gesture Brick would not soon forget), there was a far more efficient way to accomplish his goal of murdering the class averages while also taking the edge off his loner doldrums.

“Can I borrow your class notes?”

Blossom rose from her seat and pulled her hair tie out to re-do her extremely long ponytail. She held the elastic between her teeth as she worked. Her teeth were very straight, he noticed. Some pretty nice girl-teeth, generally speaking.

“Which class?”

“All of them.”

He watched her wind the elastic around her hair with quick, adroit fingers. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“You’re the top of every class. No point in asking anyone else.”

She moved toward the hall. He followed her out. “Why would I help you?”

A legitimate question delivered without venom. Unlike her sister Buttercup, who’d “run into” Brick after school on Monday and told him to watch his back, Blossom didn’t have to do anything but maintain a general proximity to make her superiority complex known. Which was the kind of flex he could fuck with.

“Isn’t helping people sort of your mandate?”

They had arrived at her locker, which she opened with enough force to rattle the hinges. “I help the helpless. Are you helpless, Brick?”

Brick smiled at her baiting. Had she ever actually said his name at a normal volume before? It sounded good even in her baseline bitch timbre. “Critically helpless. I’m the new student who transferred in the middle of the semester, and you’re the only person who knows me.”

A couple other students clearly trying to get to the lockers Brick was blocking hovered just out of reach. They whispered to each other, but neither of them actually worked up the courage to ask Brick to move. He ignored them.

Blossom rummaged in her locker for the binder she would need for the next class. “Make friends.”

“Working on it.”

The locker door slammed and she faced him. There was something confrontational in the way she held herself before him that kicked him in the nuts back in time thirteen years to their more uncouth days when all he wanted to do was destroy her so he’d be the only one. Now they were older and wiser and he actually did need her notes to study, so destroying her was not high on his list of priorities.

“You want to be my friend.”

“We have so much in common.”

“So do lions and hyenas.”

“Both are apex predators, so.”

She took a step closer and peered up at him. Brick did not move, although he wondered what was so interesting about his face. She probably just thought he was hot. She was probably as bored as he was. She probably—

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

Brick pulled back and covered his mouth on instinct. God fucking damnit.

Blossom was already walking away from him by the time he’d picked the food from his teeth. “I’ll expect my notes back in mint condition before first period tomorrow morning.”

Brick pressed a fist against the lockers and quietly fumed. “Dumbass…”

“Um, sorry, but do you mind…?”

The student who’d been waiting for her locker space to clear up had her palms up as if to assuage a feral stray. Brick pushed off the lockers, but his fist left a dent where he’d unleashed some of his impotent self-pity. He looked back at the girl, and she shook her head.

“It’s fine! It, uh, it happens sometimes.” She pointed a couple lockers down to Blossom’s, which was dinged up worse than the others.

Brick stared at Blossom’s locker, and then back at the girl. Her narrow, dark eyes were wide, but not out of fear. She was waiting for something, and like an idiot it took him a moment to catch up. “You’re trying to make me feel better about fucking up your locker.”

She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s really fine! You just looked so miserable for a second there, and I just thought…”

Great, he was moping so hard he had an audience.

The five minute warning bell rang, and a flood of students rushed past them on their way to fourth period. Brick stepped aside so the girl could get to her locker.

“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

The new guy, yeah. How quaint. Except, she was waiting for a response, which wasn’t the absolute worst thing that had happened to him all week.

“Brick,” he said. But of course, she already knew that, and she was just being nice.

“I’m Kim. Kim Chan.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say to her, so he decided to get his shit and get to his next class.

“Welcome back to Townsville, Brick.”

Brick shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off. It didn’t occur to him until later that Kim was the first and only person who had properly welcomed him back home.

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #blossick #ppg reds #ppg blossom #ppg brick #september fic prompts #weird king au #i have no idea what i will call this yet #but it'll make its way to AO3 and it'll be a Thing #i have to think of themes and shit now #i came here to shit post and here we are with another full on Reds fic

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sebseyesandbuckysthighs · 5 years

Text

Three Soldiers and a Baby | Part Nine

summary: Three handsome bachelors find their day to day operations disrupted when an unexpected new roommate (who comes complete with a diaper and a pacifier) shows up at their doorstep. How will they deal with this new and baffling responsibility without losing their minds or killing each other in the process?

pairings: Bucky x Reader (eventual) featuring Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

warnings: none, just make-believe goodness and cute boys with a baby

a/n: Who’s ready for more domestic soldiers?! I know for damn sure that I always am. Heck, that’s why I wrote this series! To provide all the fluff and angst-free domesticity for y’all. Sorry if that may seem a little boring to some, but I think we all deserve some nice easy reading every once in awhile. Love ya’s!

*warning to mobile users, the “keep reading” tab may not work so apologies in advance*

| previously |

Bucky didn’t even notice Sam walking away as he slowly inched closer and closer. He was just glad no one called him out on taking his sweet time getting there. When he finally reached the edge of her bassinet, Bucky felt as though all the air left within his lungs rushed out in a single exhale. Looking down at the slumbering face of his daughter was almost too surreal for Bucky to handle. In that moment he was sure that she was the most beautiful being in existence. “Holy shit. She looks just like her mom,” Bucky quietly whispered, his voice hoarse from all the emotions flowing through him. “She’s fucking beautiful.”

Steve had remained quiet as he watched the scene between his best friend and his daughter. He too was overcome with emotion, but was holding it together better than Bucky was. He walked forward to join the pair and noticed the moisture building up in Bucky’s eyes while he continued to stare at Ellie. “Yeah she is, Buck. Congratulations, man.”

Bucky finally looked away from his daughter, a light stream of tears flowing down his cheeks as he reached out to his best friend and pulled him into a tight hug.

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Bucky was still staring down in wonder at the small bundle that slept without a care to the changing world around her. It was still the middle of the night, but none of the men felt like they could sleep now that Bucky had returned home early from his mission. During the earlier debrief of the baby situation, Bucky took a minute to explain why he had come home so soon. The truth was as simple as the mission being easier than they had initially anticipated and there was no reason for him to stay behind for any cleanup procedures. Now here he was, back in the same home he left behind, but everything was different. His entire life was set to change and he hadn’t even known about it until only an hour ago.

Sam returned from his late night shower in a robe and waved his arms trying to grab the attention of the two men still staring down at the baby. “Alright I’m off to get some much deserved beauty sleep back in my own bed. Barnes. Good luck, buddy.” Sam turned on his heel and slowly walked towards his door. At the same time, Steve yawned and started to walk away as well. “Yeah me too. Good night, pal. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Wait, what?!” Bucky spat out in a panic. “No no no. You guys can’t leave me alone!”

“You’re a big boy, Bucky. You can handle this,” said Sam with a thumbs up. “Just like we did.”

Bucky gawked in disbelief. “But you guys did it together! I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here!”

“You’ll figure it out.” Steve suppressed another yawn and turned away again.

“But wait, what if I...what if I hurt her,” Bucky quietly expressed his true fear, looking away from his two friends and down again to the young innocent life before him. Then he looked to his left arm, the one made of neither flesh nor blood. It had been years since it was last used as a weapon for the forces of Hydra. The Wakandan tech was the most state of the art advanced technology that existed and Bucky had never had any reason to mistrust it. Yet, he wasn’t ready to take any chances on his daughter’s well-being.

Sam and Steve shared a look of understanding, but it was Steve again who spoke his reassurances to the neurotic new parent. “Bucky, you’re making excuses now. You haven’t felt self-conscious about your arm in a very long time. You’re in complete control, over the arm and your mind. Something tells me it has a lot to do with how this baby came to be here in the first place.” Steve referred to his time spent with you. “I had a feeling that whatever was going on with the two of you, she went a long way towards making you feel a certain kind of way.”

Bucky’s face depicted a range of emotions battling through him as he listened to Steve’s words, knowing that the man was right about every single thing he said. “Yeah, she did,” he confirmed. “She made me feel whole.”

The other two men smiled appreciatively, happy that their friend could finally admit the integral part you played in his life. Only hoping that it wasn’t too late for the two of you. “Alright then, Buck. We’ll see you two in the morning, okay?” Steve said, settling that this was how it was going to be. Bucky took in another series of deep breaths before nodding somewhat confidently.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I can do this.” Bucky looked down to his daughter and finally smiled. “I have to.”

It was at that exact moment that a wave of odor bloomed upwards from the bassinet. It started out faint, but soon burst into one of the most offensive odors Bucky had ever experienced. He tried to keep his face from contorting in reaction to it, but after another waft hit him he couldn’t help but reach for his nose to plug it. It took a second longer for it to reach Sam and Steve and by that time they were already on their way out of there to the safety of their rooms.

“Woah, wait a minute!” Bucky yelled out in horror. “What the hell have you guys been feeding my kid?!” By the time he looked down at the baby then back up to his friends they had already left and Ellie was starting to stir awake. At first her cries were soft and barely there, Bucky figured it was now or never to make this happen. Also, the last thing he wanted to hear were the uncomfortable cries of his little girl.

“Okay I can do this. C’mon, man. Get it together.” Bucky psyched himself up, unknowingly much like Steve had the first time he had changed Ellie all those days ago. He didn’t have time to think of the weight of the situation. The milestone moment of picking his daughter up for the first time as he pulled the soft white blanket away from her squirming body and reached in for her.

Distant memories floated through his mind of picking up babies in a past life, but much had changed since then. This time would be different than all those others. His head felt light as the little bundle in his hands felt even lighter still. She was tiny and soft and squishy. The smell emitting from her didn’t even seem to phase Bucky anymore, especially the second she opened her pretty little eyes and looked up at him for the first time.

Bucky was petrified in that instant. What if she cried? What if she didn’t like him? What if she was scared of him? Each question tore at his chest one by one, but he wouldn’t let his fears keep him from being here in this moment with his child.

“Hello beautiful,” he spoke his first words to her tenderly. The low timbre in his voice must have triggered something in her because instead of wailing cries of terror, Ellie smiled. It was more akin to a grin than anything, but Bucky swore that this was the most magical moment he had ever experienced.

It took time and a lot of guesswork, but Bucky eventually succeeded in changing Ellie’s diaper for the first time and he couldn’t have been more proud. Of her. She had just stared up at him the entire time, babbling in her cute little baby talk and being patient with him as he figured out how to clean her from the mess she made. Once he was finished and the offensive diaper was disposed of, Bucky wasn’t sure what to do next, but he knew he wasn’t ready for this time to be over with her. The future was unpredictable and even so far as tomorrow was an uncertain time.

He needed to cherish every moment he had with her, so for the next half hour, Bucky spent his time walking around the apartment with his little girl in his arms. Talking to her was quickly becoming his new favorite thing to do as she seemed to cling to every word he said. Completely enraptured in the way his lips moved and the sounds she couldn’t comprehend. The times when she would smile or giggle were the best and Bucky was sure his heart stopped each time.

The next morning Steve and Sam woke up earlier than usual, practically jumping with anxiety about Bucky’s first night spent at home with the baby. Upon reaching the living room, though, they learned that all their fears had been completely unfounded. There on the large living room couch was Bucky with his hands protectively cradling Ellie, both sound asleep.

———————————————————————

Feedback is always appreciated, leave it here!

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part eight << part nine >> part ten

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Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

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tags:

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #three soldiers and a baby #my writing

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caps-lockdown · 5 years

Text

Trick or Steve (One Shot)

chHello boo!! I are here to request a Steve x Reader halloween one shot. Where the reading is out trick or treating and runs into a few VERY realistic looking Avengers. Who she then awkwardly learns later on, were actually the real Avengers. Not just guys in costumes. 🤣 can’t wait to read what you come up with for this in Octobeeeeeeer!! 😍😍😍 eeek! So excited!!

As requested by @katurrade! I’ll be posting 4 Halloween themed one shots this month in celebration of over 100 followers and SPOOPY SEASON!!! Hope you enjoy!

In Y/N Y/L/N format.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Rating: PG 13 for violence, language, alcohol, party scene, adult themes (ish)

Words: 5,341

AU because no one died in Endgame, Steve didn’t go back. I can’t move on.

Summary: You’re taking your niece and nephews Trick or Treating proves to be an event in itself, but running into three of the Avengers was not part of your plan.

No beta and so I only own the mistakes and the reader!

Trick or Steve

Take the kids trick or treating your sister said. It will be fun she said.

And so here you were, taking yet another picture of yet another group of knock-off Avengers at precisely six thirty on the evening of Halloween, listening as your two nephews and niece squealed over the men dressed in painstakingly obvious mass produced costumes. They had been nice enough sure, one poorly body painted Hulk giving the kids some of the candy out of his bag when they complained the houses they had been hitting during the night were being stingy with their offerings. A very tan, we’re talking spent- his-whole-summer-on-a-cruise-ship –in-the-Bahamas tan Hawkeye helping the youngest of the three pose correctly. It was quite cute.

“My feet hurt!” The five year old aforementioned child whined and you were suddenly aware of two things.

One, you were in no rush to have children of your own.

Two, you were entirely too sober for this.

~~~Earlier~~~

“Andy will you stand still? I need to fix your left wing.” You huffed, hot glue gun locked and loaded as you stared down at the fidgeting five year old. The living room was silent other than the preening of your sister, too caught up in snapping a thousand pictures to help you with her own kids. Gee thanks for the help Sis.

Your peripheral vision caught your niece reaching to grasp at her newly straight long blonde hair, your voice making her jump. “Hana don’t touch your hair it’s still hot from the straight iron!”

“Yea Hana leave your hair alone!” Her twin brother mocked whilst opening his third piece of candy. You raised an eyebrow as you directed your playful scolding his direction.

“Liam you take one more piece of candy out of that dish and I’m not taking you!”

“Sorry Ant.” The chorus of small voices around you had a hint of a smile cracking at your lips as you tried to remain stern. After a few extremely short minutes of holding Andy’s cardboard wing at a forty five degree angle, it looked like you had finally managed to get them even in height.

“There! Everyone ready to go?” You sat back on your heels to look at the three, a big smile overcoming your features as they all got excited over their outfits.

“But Ant,” Andy exclaimed, pointing to your sock clad feet, “You’re not wearing any shoes!”

“Thanks Buddy, you’ve just saved my entire Halloween!” You snatched your nephew and flew him through the air of the living room, the small human giggling and squealing as you made whooshing noises, his arms out in front of him. Whatever kept him in good spirits and helped the glue dry faster. Placing Andy on the floor of the foyer you made a quick grab at your heeled boots that sat by the door, zipping them up to just above your knees before standing to look in the mirror.

The black tactical suit you had made yourself looked great, the matte fabric the perfect choice for your costume. You had taken a few liberties with the original suit design, trading the slightly loose pants for something a bit more feminine and curve hugging, eighty-sixing the knee coverings and opting for sleek heeled boots instead of chunky combat ones. You were sure your feet would hate you later, but Carpe Diem right? The black straps and buckles were still covering the top half of you, although you had chosen to turn them into more of a corset of sorts, your chest pushed up under the dark gray vest you had made. It wasn’t overly cool outside so you went sleeveless, allowing for more mobility. You readjusted your hair, smoothing away any fly aways of your current bobbed style. At least you didn’t have to wear a wig. Readjusting the straps that held your very fake guns to your thighs you wrapped your hands around the handles of the three appropriately painted jack o’lanterns, the plastic thunking together as you passed them to their owners, the kids pooling around you to get a final group picture. You headed out into the crisp air as your sister waved you on, saying she and her husband would see you all later at Maria Hill’s party.

That was an hour and three groups of Avenger wannabes ago.

Of course the kids all but tackled their respective counter parts, save for Andy. You felt bad that no one had dressed up as Falcon yet, but you were constantly assuring the slightly upset child that he would see him tonight. You hoped anyway.

It was when you finished sacking the last house on the block when you saw them.

“ANT LOOK IT’S HIM IT’S HIM!!!” Andy’s shrill voice shot off with the rest of his body as he sprinted as fast as his small legs could carry him towards the three men, one of them no doubt dressed as The Falcon. You groaned as the two twins followed suit, racing to catch up, and then outrun their youngest sibling to the group of guys. You silently prayed this would be the last time for the night, your phone only able to hold so many pictures.

As you reached the three kids, once again mooning over the “superheroes” you couldn’t help but notice that their outfits looked extremely authentic. And they were equally extremely good looking. Thor’s hair was perfect, Falcon’s gapped tooth smile made you smile back. Hell even Captain America had an ass on him that made you want to sing the national anthem. Out of tune and all. Your face flushed as you came up to them, the kids talking a mile a minute and their questions making your face burn.

“Well if it isn’t the Walking Lightning Rod, Bird Brain, and America on Ice. You guys look great, did you assemble the rest of the girl scout troop or is it just you three tonight? Sorry about the kiddos. Wish I could say they’re mine, but they aren’t. Thanks in advance for being nice to them, they kinda can outrun me in these heels.” Your greeting forced the three men to break their eye contact with their miniature versions to give you a quick once over. The man dressed as Falcon took one look at your costume and about died.

“YOU DRESSED UP AS BARNES?!” He exclaimed, voice laced with gulps of air and hard laughter as you adjusted the duct tape and silver painted left arm you had fabricated. You noticed the blue eyes of Captain America’s wander over your figure as Falcon bent at the waist, trying to catch his breath and failing miserably. “Sorry it’s just…” He breathed, standing back up to fully give you a once over, “You managed to make him look good. And that’s a big deal. Doesn’t she look amazing Steve?”

The man in the mask sputtered out jumbled words in agreement, and you felt your face grow hot even though your smile grew. He took a breath and composed himself “What’s…what’s your name Doll?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, and my eyes are up here Mr. American Dream.” You caught him staring at your chest through your mostly unzipped vest as he awkwardly cleared his throat, his face a few shades of pink that you were quickly finding adorable.

“So, ahem, why the Winter Soldier?” His blue eyes sparkled when he talked to you, and man you’d be lying through your teeth if you said they weren’t making you feel some things. Out of all the Captain Americas you had met this evening, this one was very quickly becoming your favorite. You admired the long hard lines of his body, that suit not leaving much to the imagination. Jesus you could pray with your knees upward with him anytime. You snapped your head up realizing what you were doing and forced your mind to focus.

“Well it was either him or Stark, and I don’t have the face for a goatee.”

“You would have made a hilarious Tony!” Sam was laughing again, and you were trying to hold your own inside. His joyous noises were infectious.

“But what’s with your arm?” The star spangled man stuttered and you smirked, showing the kids handy work in the form of “get well soon”s, hearts and happy faces.

“Ah well you see,” You leaned in closer to the man, motioning the other two closer to you, “The kids uh, the kids think he just hurt it really bad and that it’s in a cast. I don’t have the heart to tell them the truth. Especially Andy, he’s really sensitive.” You looked pointedly down to the five year old who was clinging to the last of the three as if his life depended on it.

The Falcon gave a smiling nod before crouching down to unwind the child in question from around his legs, chuckling as the kid attempted to hold on tighter. “So your name’s Andy huh? That’s a pretty cool name kid. I’m Sam. I like your costume.”

“My Ant made it for me! I wanted to be you because I think Falcon is the coolest!” Andy pumped his fist in the air with a shrieking holler that reminded you for the eighth time that night you were too sober for this shit. But you couldn’t help but smile as he continued to gush over his favorite super hero, your heart warming to see him get the interaction you’d been hoping for all night. “He can fly!!”

“Did you make all of your garments then?” Thor’s voice was deep, booming, and beautiful and for a second you almost regretted not dressing up as him, giving him a small nod. “They are exceptional Lady Y/N.” You scoffed, waving off the compliment although it was the first one you had gotten all night.

“Yea Ant is the best fairy godmother in town!” Hana squeaked, twirling around in circles to show off her red cape that hung from her shoulders. “She worked super hard for months so we could all be our favorites tonight! Even our mom and dad have costumes!”

“So I am your favorite hero then?” Thor inquired, taking a knee to look at the small blonde girl.

“Yep! You control lightning and we both have blonde hair, and you’re really nice to girls. My momma says it’s cause your momma raised you right, and that’s why you have a kind smile. I don’t know what that means but my momma is always right.” Hana smiled, showing the tall man her missing two front teeth, who looked like he just about melted into a puddle at the girl’s statement. He opened his arms and before you could object your niece ran into them, hugging the man fiercely.

“Wow little one you are incredibly strong!” He complimented her, breaking away as she fell into a fit of giggles. “What is your name?”

“Hana!” Came the squeak of your niece, beaming with pride.

“My name’s Liam and I think Captain America is the best!” Liam piped up, finally finding his voice and bringing a large smile to his counterpart, who reached his hand out to give him a high five from his waist. “You were frozen! You have super strength and you’re like really really old.” Sam snorted at that as Liam went to cover his backside. “Like a cool old though! Not like my dad old.”

“Nice save Li,” You rolled your eyes as the man in blue laughed heartily at how much Liam looked like he was going to spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

“So how old are all of you?” Sam questioned, finally giving in and hoisting Andy up to sit on his hip, you rubbing your temple in exasperation. These kids.

“I’m seven and the oldest!” Hana called, Liam shoving into her slightly.

“Only by three minutes.” She stuck her tongue out at her twin, Andy staring down at hand, hardened expression on his features as he thought up his answer. His face lit up as he swung his whole hand out, nearly falling out of Sam’s grip as his shifted his body weight in excitement.

“I’M THIS MANY!” He promptly smacked Sam in the face as he held up his small chubby digits into his field of vision.

“Oh I am so sorry, Andy my dude you gotta apologize for hitting the nice man.” You lightly scolded the child, his face falling as he avoided his gaze and stared at his bucket.

“Sorry mister Falcon sir.”

Sam grinned as he put the kid down, “It’s alright Andy, I accept your apology. And you can call me Sam. Now how about we take a photo huh?”

All the kids cheered as you pulled your phone out from your cleavage, watching Steve’s eyes widen at just where you hid your electronic device.

“Alright kids, pose like you’re about to save the city!” You snapped multiple shots, the kids breaking into different stances with their idols. Sam offered to take a picture of you next to Captain America, and after much convincing from two particular seven year olds you allowed him to oblige. You pulled out one of your guns and stood back to back with him, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all. After he had finished capturing a few memories for you the group went to separate.

“Alright kids, we’re losing candy time and we still got hit up the rich people before we head to Miss Hill’s house for her Halloween Party! So tell the nice men goodbye and move your butts!” The kids nodded at your order, hugging the men and saying thank you.

“Miss Hill? Like Maria Hill?” Steve asked, you nodding.

“Yea she’s having a party, we worked together briefly and have stayed friends ever since. You know her?”

“We’ve..uh heard of her parties before.” The blonde smiled tightly, your bright smile making his pulse quicken.

“Cool beans well small world! If you’re in the neighborhood stop by yea? I’m sure she won’t mind! And I wouldn’t mind seeing you again blue eyes.” With a small flirty wave in Steve’s direction you were gone, moving to catch up with Hana and Andy already ahead in their trek. You came to a stop when you realized Liam wasn’t with you, turning your body to motion him with a “come on” motion. He held up a finger to you and you sighed, pointing to your nonexistent watch.

“Pssst! Mister America!” Steve crouched in front of Liam, who had called him over and was now digging through his pumpkin vigorously. You had turned your back, not wanting to intrude on their private moment, missing your cheeky nephew pull out one of your business cards from his plastic treat holder.

“What’s this?” Steve whispered, Liam’s eyes glinting with mischief as he smiled broadly in your direction. Thor was speaking into his comms link while Sam edged closer to the two to eavesdrop. Which wasn’t hard because Liam hadn’t quite mastered whispering yet.

“That’s my aunt’s number. You’re her favorite and she thinks you’re a total hottie. My mom says she needs to fall and love and get married so her womb doesn’t shrivel up and she dies alone with like eighty nine cats. So if you like her you should ask her out. She likes coffee and pink roses but hates bad breath. And A-holes who don’t use their blinker! Okay, bye!”

Sam saved his laughter for when Liam was long out of range, racing to grasp your hand as you walked away with the rest of the kids. Steve only smiled warmly at the slightly crumpled card.

“Dude I need that kid as my wing man.” Sam was shaking his head when Thor came back to them. “Nat have news?”

“Yes she believes they found the location of the Arsonist’s next target.”

With that the three men were back on the mission, their moment of carefree fun over. That was the whole reason they were in the neighborhood patrolling as it were. There had been six massive fires over the course of the last two months, all with the same cause behind them. They had gotten a letter earlier that day saying that the arsonist, Mr. Ash, yes that was what he had chosen to go by, would be striking this very evening. The team had split up to cover more ground as Nat and Pepper worked back at the tower to crack his pattern and thus tracking him down to his next target to apprehend him. They had all agreed to go to Agent Hill’s party in celebration after they caught the asshole, but now Steve was more determined than ever to make sure they made it. Even if it was just to see you again.

~~~Two Hours Later~~~

“Come on Ant, you got this!”

“Yea you can do it!”

The kids cheered you on from the front porch of Maria Hill’s home, the large basin of water and floating apples the only thing in front of you. You gave them a wink before putting your hands behind your back. Quickly finding your target you felt the cold splash of chilling water hit your senses as you dove after you prize, the kids clapping loudly as you emerged victorious. Biting into the tart granny smith you stood up wiping your eyes and smearing some of your mascara in the process.

“Pretty impressive stuff there Y/N.” Your vision adjusted to the figure of Maria, who was holding out an orange solo cup and a towel to wipe your face, which you happily took.

“Helps when you have your own cheerleading section.” You shrugged, taking a large gulp of the apple cider that had been mixed with fireball whisky. The alcohol burned your throat for a second as you weren’t expecting that much to be in it. Note to self, don’t have too many of these. She laughed and handed you your apple back, taking the slightly damp towel from you.

The five of you wandered into the spacious house where you could see everyone in costume, loud party music blaring through every room of the house, kids and adults alike playing games like Sorry and Pin the head on the Zombie. The rooms were all lit in different eerie colors, streamers and scary window clings decorated the house. There had to be at least 60 people here, and that wasn’t including those bobbing for apples or playing yard Jenga outside.

“Hey Ant Y/N look!” Liam pointed to the large T.V screen, you turning your body to face it and feeling your entire body go rigid. “It’s the Avengers from earlier! They were the real deal!”

Your eyes widened in shock as you instantly recognized three of the men from earlier, albeit their perfectly authentic suits were just a bit charred, they still looked incredible. And you looked like The Incredible Idiot. They were exiting a building that had been on fire, Thor holding a screaming man while Steve and Sam went to help put out the flames with the local fire department. You were pretty sure your face could give the warehouse a run for its money with how hot you were. You swallowed hard at the questioning look on Maria’s face, opting to just pull your phone from its hiding place and shoving it in her hand once you pulled up the photos.

“Holy shit Y/N, you didn’t tell me they were…” She tried to cover her escaping giggles with her hand as you began looking for a rock to climb under. She especially found the picture of you and the very real and very handsome Steve Rogers to be absolutely hilarious.

“How was I supposed to know Maria?! They were like the fourth group of Avengers and I was completely done with the whole thing by group two!” You whined, sitting down in a large overstuffed recliner with an ungraceful thump. This was single handedly the most embarrassing moment of your entire existence. And that was saying something. You had once forgotten to wear pants to school your sophomore year of high school and had to loan a pair of god awful gym shorts from your best guy friend at the time. They did not smell clean and didn’t match your bright orange fall sweater. It was also Winter, and the shorts were two sizes too big. You never thought anything would top that. “I’m just going to die here now.”

Needless to say between finding out they had met their actual heroes and all of the candy, the kids were absolute beasts to put to bed. Maria had been kind enough to let them crash on an air mattress in a spare room upstairs when your sister and brother in law texted saying they were running a bit behind. They had won first place in the costume contest at their party, so they were celebrating a little longer than intended. When you realized your plans had changed, you had opted to have a couple more drinks. It’s not like the absolutely attractive earth savers would actually show up.

“Heeey the party still going on?!” Sam’s deep voice came bellowing through the house while you were draining your third drink, nearly choking as the three Avengers from earlier, and an extra few including the one you had dressed as entered the living room. You quickly dodged your way into the kitchen, wondering silently if you could fit in the very tiny water heater closet and they wouldn’t even know you were there. You listened as the room gave them a round of applause, finally reaching your “fuck it” meter for the night and pouring yourself another drink. You were never a lightweight, but the effects of the booze would at least keep you from being a total freak when you came in contact with them.

“Y/N you’re still here, how fortuitous!” Thor clapped loudly causing you to jump and sputter into your cup. You steeled your nerves and turned around and felt your face pale for the second time that night. That was a habit you didn’t need to be forming.

“So I am.” You pretended to shrug in indifference, a small shy smile on your features. “You guys were pretty great out there tonight, thanks for catching that asshole and saving that family. Guess that’s why Stark keeps you around huh?”

“Well it’s isn’t because they’re pretty to look at, but everyone’s a critic. Tony Stark. Hi, great to meet you.” The man wearing a simple “This is my Halloween costume” tee shirt approached you, you smiling wider and shaking his extended hand. “I see you’ve met my coworkers. Wilson told me about the names you called them tonight, they were great. Mind if I steal them?”

“Oh umh, um, no not at all!”

“Great, because I was going to regardless.” He winked and moved to the side, allowing you to introduce yourself to Clint and Natasha, who shook your hands with happy chuckles.

“Nice arm.”

“Thanks, made it myself.” You winked at the woman who shook her head at you, Bucky coming up with to stand next to Steve, giving you a once over.

“See Barnes didn’t I tell you? She made you look good for once!” Sam slapped the quiet man on the back, earning a glare from his otherwise stoic face.

“Shut up Wilson.” Bucky responded, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yea, you actually look pretty great. I can see why Steve here was all bent out of shape thinkin he wasn’t going to see you again tonight.” Came his gruff reply, his blonde friend groaning and jabbing an elbow into his side. “Ouch. What where you’re throwing that thing Punk.”

You brought your vision to look at the handsome Captain, wondering if it were possible to drown in his blue eyes. You felt yourself smiling, your eyes crinkling as you took a step closer to him, watching him swallow hard. “Awwwh. Did you miss me Captain?”

“Are you kidding? He’s the whole reason why we had to work double time at tracking the arsonist down, just so he could see you.” Sam grinned, running to hide behind a very amused Tony as Steve contemplated murder for the sixth time that evening. “He wouldn’t shut up about you boo..”

“Mister Sam… Falcon…sir?” You were never so thankful for a child in your entire life. All of you turned to look at Andy who stood alone in the kitchen doorway, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. His wings were long since off of him, you knowing full well with his thrashing the cardboard and hot glue would not withstand the rage of a five year old with constant night terrors.

“Yea buddy it’s me. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“You have a nightmare again Andy?” His teary nod at you had you placing your cup on the counter, leaning down to motion him to you. He hurried into your arms, you effortlessly picking him up, taking your silver arm covering off to allow yourself more range of motion as you cradled your sobbing nephew.

“Shhh you’re okay my dude, I’ve got you.” You muttered, listening to him cry uncontrollably into your neck, the evidence of his emotions soaking into your skin. “Tell me what you dreamt.”

“It was AWFUL Ant!” The boy exclaimed, pushing off of you slightly to look at Sam, tears still stinging his eyes. “Yo…you guys..didn…didn’t make it…out and the the building..” He started crying again and you felt the whole room melt around you.

“Hey Andy it’s okay see, we’re okay though.” Sam whispered reassuringly, asking you without words to take the child, which you gave him over with a nod. “See look, no harm done.” He let the little boy place his chubby hands all over his face, brushing over the soot and ash that had stuck to the man’s skin.

“…but what about smoke infal..mathc..ion? Momma says you can…di..die from too much smoke infalmathcion.” The brunette boy hiccupped at Sam, and you didn’t miss Tony’s huge smile at the kid’s difficulty at pronouncing big words.

“We’re gonna be fine. Don’t you worry. Takes a lot more than nasty smoke to take out the Avengers, don’t you think?”

“Y..yea! You guys are the best in the whole galaxy!” Andy cheered, as if he hadn’t had a complete meltdown just moments prior. Sam smiled back at him, turning his head to mouth a simple “I’m gonna keep him.”

You were almost tempted to let him, until you remembered he wasn’t yours.

“Hey there’s my little love bug!” Your sister cooed from the hallway, stopping for no one as she reached for her son, eager to hold him.

“Uh honey…” Your brother in law motioned to the group of super heroes, her face reddening as she looked at Natasha and Clint, who looked back at their doppelgangers with wide eyes. Tony and Thor howled with laugher as the pair took an extra step apart from each other as they took in your sister and his costumes. “I never thought we would meet like this. Man no one is going to believe me at the office on Monday.”

“Of course they will, you’ll have proof!” Tony belted, motioning for Maria to come and take pictures of everyone. You all elected to stand on the front yard, your sister going to drag the sleepy kids out of their slumber so they could be a part of it. After many different poses and many different phones later, everyone seemed happy with their captured memories.

“Night night Ant Y/N, sleep tight. Don’t let the bad guys bite!” Liam joked, the two of you breaking into your secret handshake.

“And if they do, I’ll beat them til they’re black and blue with my shoe!” You called back, hugging Hana and waving to Andy who was already nearly passed out in his dad’s arms. He gave a half wave back, all of their figures fading into the distance as they swam through the sea of parked cars.

The rest of the party cleared out a bit later, you staying behind to help clean up the apocalypse level mess in Hill’s house.

“You’re really great with kids Y/N.” Steve held the trash bag open as you piled cans and cups into it, meeting his gaze with a grin.

“Only because they’re related to me.” You admonished, the large man chuckling as you continued about the living room, you both being the only ones in there while the others helped take down decorations in the other rooms and outside. “Listen about earlier, I’m sorry if I may have seemed a little forward. I had no idea it was actually you and I’m not normally that flirty.”

“Ah I see. Well if it helps I’m not offended.”

You shot your head up to look at him, arm mid swipe to push more cups into the trash bag. “You’re…not?”

“Nope. Especially knowing I’m a total hottie, and your favorite. According to Liam anyway.” Your voice died in your throat as the man lost in time actually had the nerve to wink at you. You placed the cups in the bag, coming up to your full height to stare at him. Your feet were burning from the whole night in heels but you’d be damned if you backed down now. You didn’t know if you wanted to kill your nephew or hug him until he complained about it.

“Oh really? Well then can I ask you out for a cup of coffee sometime?” You spoke lightly, question almost coming out in a whisper on account of your nerves.

“Sure, I’ve got no plans in the morning.”

“Eleven work? I’ll be dead with a hangover until at least ten.” He laughed at your honesty, reaching to pull out his phone so you could type your number in. You procured your phone from its warm resting spot, taking extra care to slow your movements. Steve actually looked away from you after staring for a beat or two, his ears the same shade of pink from earlier. Cute.

“As long as we can yell at a-holes who don’t use their blinkers, sure.” Hug Liam it is. “There’s a café on 23rd and maple by the tower…”

“Queenie’s?” You finished, smiling brightly at Steve who nodded back enthusiastically. “Then it’s a date Cap.”

“Yep,” He pulled you into a surprising yet warm hug, you nose breathing him in and taking note that he smelled exactly how you thought he’d smell. All masculine and deep and smooth and rough and your brain stopped trying to think of good words to use. He offered to walk you to your sister’s house, a pensive look washing over you as you looked at the clean living room.

“What about saying goodbye to the others?”

“What, like you’re never going to see them again? Not if I can help it” He mentioned nonchalant, another blush sweeping over your face as he bluntly admitted to seeing you more than once. You only nodded, accepting defeat as he put his arm around your shoulders to keep you warm on your walk home, not that you needed it with the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

A short fifteen minute stroll of content and happy chitchat about yourselves later you were at your sibling’s door, finding the spare key in a ceramic frog just along the edge of the fish pond that sat on the left side of their stairs.

“Well this is me, see you at eleven hundred?” He smiled at you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Eleven-hundred. Pleasant screams Y/N.” You outwardly giggled at his pun as he pulled back, turning towards the street and walking away with a noticeable pep in his step.

Take the kids trick or treating your sister said. It will be fun she said.

She was right for once.

End

Taglist: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more @cuffski @chrisevansfanfic @zombiepotterfour

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #marvel fanfiction #captain america #fanfic #avengers fanfiction

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nitaescence · 6 years

Text

The Howling Wolf | Part IV

↳ Pairing : Lycan!Taehyung x Human!OC ft. Vampire!Jimin & Human!Jungkook Genre : Mythicalcreatures!AU, Royal!AU | angst, smut, fluff Word Count : 2.8k ↳ Moodboards | story masterlist ↳ Warnings — Depiction of violence, blood and injuries, drowning

Taehyung shifted himself halfway through after he had jumped in the air to dive in the water to allow himself easier and quicker mobility. His vision was not the best in the new milieu yet he could see better than he had stayed in his human form. He rapidly spotted your smell but relief turned into worry when metallic molecules reached his tongue the one time he lapped at the water.

He clenched his jaw and swam fast towards the taste of your blood. His pace quickened after he spotted your unconscious figure. His clawed hand grabbed your arms and promptly pushed you upward. When he eventually emerged at the surface, he nimbly positioned you on his shoulders, making sure to keep your head out of water.

The rocks cracked every time he clawed the hard wall as he climbed up the cliff. He knew he needed to be quick and the thought of losing you had him rushing even more, so much so, he nearly fell down several times.

Taehyung very carefully laid you down. He tried to calm, telling himself he still had a chance to save you if he did not let panic get the upper hand over rationality. His hand dragged down from your wet cheek to your cheek and a sigh of relief escaped him when he felt a pulse. A faint one. He double-checked, making sure his mind was not failing him.

Your chest was not moving and his first reflex was to free it. Straddling you, his hands tightly gripped your corsage and in one go, he harshly pulled it apart. Your once compressed lungs let in air which made you choked out the water inside. Taehyung’s frown softened a little as he watched you, rolling on your side and coughing.

You lied on your back again, your breathing slowing gradually.

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung’s hoarse voice breathed out. “Everything’s alright.”

His brows lifted as he watched your mouth part, no sound coming out. He leaned down and softly took your face in his hands. The air coming out of his mouth fanned your face, “I’m right here, darling. I’m so sorry.” He pressed his forehead against yours.

You frowned and weakly moaned in pain when you felt his hand on the back of your skull. Taehyung leaned up and removed his hand from your head when he felt something abnormally warm spreading. A gasp escaped his lips when he saw his palm covered with your blood.

“_____?” He trembled, brows frowning again as he looked back at you. Your eyes were closing a little more with every second passing by. “No, no, no, no, no-” He shuddered, rubbing the side of your face, “_____. Stay with me.”

🎼

Taehyung brought inside the lovers’ cave, sheltering you from the bad weather.

He had gotten rid of his shirt and pressed it against your wound. His heart was beating frantically as he tried to think of solution that could possibly save your life. He felt helpless and he was loathing it.

His eyes squinted towards the entrance of the cave when he finally had an idea.

“Jimin. I know you are somewhere here. Come as fast as you can. I’m begging you. _____ needs you, right now.”

He did not need to speak any louder nor to repeat his request. A breath of cold air blew inside the cave. You shivered and Taehyung pressed you even into his burning hot naked chest, his arms tightening around your weak body. Within the next second, Jimin arrived silently and stood still, staring down at the two of you.

His voice sounded measured, “What happened?”

“She fell in the water, “disclosed Taehyung, looking down at you with worried eyes. “She must’ve hit herself. She’s lost so much blood.”

Jimin moved quickly to your sides in less and Taehyung hissed.

“_____.” The vampire ignored the lycan and took a closer look at you. Your heart was still beating yet so weakly, he almost could not hear it.

“Just do what you have to do.”

Jimin was looking only at you as he moved you in his strong embrace. You frowned when the comforting warmth of Taehyung left you. Jimin seemed to hesitate for a quick second before he cooed to you, “I’m going to make you feel better.”

He clawed the immaculate skin of his neck, pure as the driven snow, and two cerise drops instantly appeared. He lowered himself closer to your face while securing your head in his hand, minding your injury. The hot drops crashed down on your lips, at first you did not react but as Jimin’s blood slowly seeped out of him and leaked inside your mouth, you found yourself drawn to it.

The fingers of his hand holding your head, curled in your hair and warmth spread around your wound ad he gently scraped your scalp. He nuzzled his face more into your neck when he felt your lips moulding his skin. “That’s it, drink it.”

His blood tasted like the sweetest of drinks you were ever given the chance to savor. The more you had of it the more you wanted it. The metallic drink felt soothing inside you, healing all your aches and giving your strength back.

Your once weak limbs became powerful again and your arms raised to grip onto Jimin’s nape. Your head injury was entirely healed and you felt much better than a couple of seconds before.

The vampire gently grabbed your wrists to prompt you into ceasing your suckling. You eventually stopped, slightly disgruntled to do so but your thirst eased gradually. Taehyung looked at you scrupulously, ready to welcome back in the warmth of his embrace. You laid back in his arm and looked up at him underneath heavy lids.

“How are you feeling?” He whispered to you like he would to a baby.

You licked your lips leisurely. “Fine. Better.”

He rubbed his nose against your forehead before kissing it and slowly met the other man’s eyes. “Thank you,” finally blurted your husband, looking at Jimin with a serious stare.

The vampire’s lips curved at one side and he chuckled, “I did this for her.”

You turned your head, looking up at your friend with grateful eyes. He smiled and nodded. Jimin’s shoulders tightened as he craned his neck to look behind him. You felt Taehyung’s chest vibrate with low growls and you looked up at him, curiously.

“What is it?” You queried, frowning as you felt his skin increasing in temperature underneath your palm.

He breathed deeply in, eyes staring straight ahead of him but Jimin answered you,“vampires.”

“Why are they coming towards us?” Grunted your husband, his hold tightening around you.

Jimin stood up and walked until he reached the edges of the small cave, looking at the horizon. “They must’ve smelled _____’s blood.” His eyes were accusing when he looked back at him. “They’re coming for her.”

You looked back up at Taehyung when he shifted you in his arms. He cursed himself for not having been more careful with your injury when moving you to the cave.

“They won’t lay a finger on her.” He glowered, brows frowning as he looked down at you. His tone softened again, “darling, I need you to stay here while I deal with them. I’ll keep you safe this time. I promise.”

“I suggest we move now before they get to us and closer to _____,” Jimin explained.

You straightened your upper body against the wall. “You’d fight your own kind? For me?” You quavered.

Jimin’s glowing purple irises met your gaze and he answered steadfastly, “I would for you. Vampires aren’t as fraternal as,” his gaze shifted quickly to Taehyung, “others can be.” He smiled reassuringly at you, “They’re probably wild. Creatures devoid of moral. Not a loss, trust me.” He jumped down the cave with no hesitation.

You slightly flinched at the unexpected move. Taehyung pressed his face against the side of yours, inhaling deeply your scent.

“Please stay here,” he begged.

You nodded, not meeting his gaze and he resigned himself to get a kiss from you. He stood up and walked away. Right before he could hurl outside just like Jimin you called him and he immediately looked back, brows slightly raising with worry.

“Just- be careful,” you stammered. “Both of you.” He nodded solemnly and threw his body in the void, shifting into his lycan form in the air.

🎼

While waiting for his return, thousands of dreading scenarios played in your mind. For some reasons you were more scared about Taehyung’s safety than Jimin’s, probably because you knew how careless one could be when they fought with the people that meant their loved ones harm.

Lycans displayed inhuman physical strength similar to vampires from what you had observed with Jimin and your time in the encampment, such as speed, inhuman strength and incredible agility.

If Jimin turned out to be right about those vampires being young reckless ones, you hoped Taehyung’s could easily overcome them. In his wolf form he had access to his powerful jaw and razor sharp fangs and claws which made him and other lycans just as much deadly close-quarters combatants.

“____.”

“Roman?” You queried at the unexpected voice, surprised not to see Taehyung. “What are you doing here?”

Your husband’s friend’s face was hard and emotionless as he stared back at you, immobile, “I’m here to get you back.”

You stood up and walked closer to him, clinging your torn clothes close to yourself, “where’s Taehyung?”

“He’s hurt. Come with me.” He opened his arms to hold you against him and get down down to the ground safely. Your frowning deepened and you could not help but feel affected by the news. “He’ll get through it.”

The journey back to the camp was short, yet long enough for you to think of all the possible endings the confrontation between Taehyung and the vampires could have led to. At least you knew he was alive. You hoped Jimin was safe as well.

Roman helped you get on your feet once you arrived. Some people were gathered around the doctor’s tent, probably curious to get to know what was happening inside. They parted around as you slowly walked toward the front of the tent.

The thick fabric suddenly flought in the air as the Alpha came out. His gaze immediately found yours and for some time you simply stared at each other. You noticed an ounce of sadness veiling his expression and you expected him to shout on you and blame you for his cousin’s pain. He walked down the stairs, seemed like he would pass by you but he stopped at your level. You kept staring in front of you.

“He is asking for you…” He uttered.

You sighed and shook your head to yourself. “I’d be of no help in the-.”

“You owe him that.” He snarled. You finally turned your head and held his glower. He lowered his eyes and softened, “You’ll do him more good than you think.”

He left you on your own. You breathed deeply in before you hesitantly climbed up the stairs. You fisted the fabric of the tent and reluctantly stepped inside. The air in the room felt incredibly stuffy, hot like in a furnace. The pack doctor, a middle-aged man, was sat next to bed, leaning over as he provided his care.

“_-____.” whimpered Taehyung’s weak voice after he had smelled your scent.

The old man sat up and looked over his shoulder. He stood up, “oh, you’re finally here.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of the lycan. He was tied up to the bed with large pieces of cloth, wearing out and threatening to tear apart the longer he kept jerking and fussing.

“What is wrong with him?” You faltered, unable to look away from his ill figure.

“He was bitten.” Explained the man as he busied himself with his tools and medicines ordered on a trail right next to the bed.

Your eyes immediately flew to Taehyung’s bare upper chest, sweat glistening under the light glow of the candles. You assumed the high temperatures were emanating by him as you observed his upper body, heaving rapidly up and down. His eyes were shut down and his jaw clenching in pain.

“Vampire bites aren’t lethal most of the times but they cause severe hallucinations and can end up with him hurting himself hence the bindings.”

If the worst came to the worst, the poison from a vampire bite could lead to the lycan’s or werewolf’s death, as their viral strains differed, incompatible, and would only lead to their destruction at the cellular level. And vice versa.

Your frowning deepened,“Can’t you ease his pain?”

“The reaction he is showing right now is a good sign. His body is rejecting the venom,” he continued to explain and eventually turned around to face you.

You stared some more at his wounds, quite superficial, some were already healing, others were bleeding. If the injuries were not critical, the invading virus would be destroyed by the uninfected cells before it could cause death.

“If he feels you near him. It will also help him calm him and speed up the healing process.”

You nodded mildly and watched him curling down next to Taehyung near his ear.

“If he feels you near him. It will also help him calm him and speed up the healing process.”

You nodded mildly and watched him curling down next to Taehyung’s ear.

“Your wife is here.” He announced softly. He looked back to prompt you in joining him and you indulged.

You kneeled on the floor and gently took his shaking hand in yours,“ Taehyung. It’s me. I’m here.”

He whimpered and his fingers curled around yours, at first weakly then with a little more strength, to show you he was acknowledging you. You grasped it as a thank-you. The man finally backed away and left the two of you after telling you he would be back to check up on his state.

Here and now, you kept wiping the sweat off of his burning face with a cloth dampened in cold water just like you were told to do. You felt a little ill at ease sitting by his sides; blaming yourself for his pains. The marks on his torso were gradually fading away and his breathing was evening.

You went out to fetch more come clean water in a basin. You sat back on the chair you had been occupying for the past half hour now, huffing, and wiped your forehead before diving the small cloth in.

You were beginning to feel sticky, strands of your hair that you had tied in a high loose bun were poking out in all directions. In the meantime you had gotten rid of your ruined clothes, opting for light ones.

Taehyung opened his eyes, eventually. He blinked slowly, clearing his blurry vision and his head instinctively turned towards where he heard noises.

Gazing up at you, he watched as you busied yourself pouring water in a smaller bowl. Your cheeks were colored with a faint blush, the skin of your face, neck and chest covered under a sheer layer of perspiration. No sign implied your accident. It was as if nothing had happened to you and this made him smile. You had not noticed him yet as you wrung the cloth in your hands and gently dabbed his forehead.

“What a sight to behold.”

You looked down at him instantly at the sound of his husky voice and a lopsided grin stretched your lips, satisfied he was finally awake.

You snorted and slightly furrowed your brows, “I don’t even know what I’m doing right now.”

He swallowed with difficulty and opened his mouth to speak again but only made a noise of discomfort.

“Here,” you whispered, holding a cup filled with freshwater from the basin you had just brought and tilted it between his lips.

He laid back down and gazed up at you with a weak smile. “Is your head still hurt?”

“No.” You mindlessly lifted your arm to touch your hair. “It’s completely healed. I still need to wash the dried blood.”

“Thank you. For staying here with me.”

You shook your head, “I should be the one thanking you. You saved me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“How did you find me? In the water.”

“The instant I couldn’t smell you anymore, I left for the forest and found your little friend.”

“The wolf?” You looked down with a raise of your eyebrows.

He hummed in response. You watched him effortlessly tear apart the pieces of cloth keeping him in place to bed so he could shift closer to you. Your eyes traveled down his chest and you mindlessly grazed his skin.

You trailed softly, “the bites are almost gone.”

He took your hand in his and slowly raised it to his dry lips. You watched it him mumbling against your skin, his eyes were closed. “I felt guilty when I let you run away. I would never forgive myself if something ever happened to you.”

You kept looking down at him as he softly pecked your fingers, finding solace to know you safe and maybe, maybe you were beginning to feel yourself falling for the lycan a little more.

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#bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts angst #tahyung angst #taehyung fluff #jimin fluff #jungkook angst #lycan!taehyung #vampire!jimin #prince!jungkook #bts imagines #bts werewolf au #bts vampire au #bts royal au #bts mythology au #bts fluff #bts x oc

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avereas · 7 years

Text

the antonym of flower

Port Mafia Week Day 5: Childhood

summary: Nakahara Chuuya meets Dazai Osamu in freefall, and Dazai makes a proposal. word count: 2.1k

read on ao3

“Damn you.”

“What?”

“What’d you have to do that for?”

Wrong-footed, Chuuya stares at Dazai Osamu. The boy is a skinny little thing: scrawny, quite pitiful. His hair is a wind-blown mess. He looks like he makes a fruitless habit of fighting monsters much larger than himself.

Or something like that, anyway.

“I was just trying to—“ Chuuya trails off.

“Just trying to what?” Dazai Osamu scowls at him. There’s a flicker of something ugly in his uncovered eye, wide and dark against his white face. He wears an armour of bandages, as though the tape is binding together the remnants of a shattered doll. Up close, this is all rather unsettling.

Chuuya has never seen anything quite like him, before.

Chuuya has never felt anything quite like this, either: pulverised, drained, like the vestiges of wetness wrung from a used towel. He lets himself slump against the concrete wall of the alleyway, the night air cold as it threads through the sweat in his hair. The lullaby of Yokohama traffic lures him to the threshold of sleep. He pulls his coat tightly around himself.

“Hey, gingerhead, I’m talking to you.”

“Whatever. I don’t care what you do.” The awareness of pain hits Chuuya like the drop into freefall. He groans and lets his head fall back; Dazai Osamu’s hand hovers in the air and does not follow. Chuuya realises that Dazai Osamu had been, for some reason, touching his face. A grotesque feeling is spreading from the phantom sensation of warmth, crawling through his body like poisoned honey. He feels sick. He feels empty. Nevertheless: “Next time you should throw yourself into the sea, instead. No one will be forced to see your smashed-up corpse then.”

A rustle of clothing, and then silence. Suspiciously, Chuuya cracks open an eye.

Dazai Osamu’s face hovers above his own, and he’s close enough that strands of his dark hair tickle Chuuya’s cheek. Chuuya tenses.

“That’s a great idea!” Dazai Osamu suddenly seems unduly excited. “If I jump from a cliff, do you think the impact of hitting the water would be enough to kill me, or would that only make me unconscious until I eventually drown?”

“Ugh.” Chuuya closes his eye and turns away. “What the fuck. Go away already.”

“Sorry, no can do! You know, I just wanted to kill myself. I didn’t expect some idiot to come jumping after me. But still, you gave me such a useful tip! Of course, at the least, I’ll have to see you home safely. That’s fair, right?”

No, Chuuya means to say, it’s this time of the year, I don’t want to deal with Ane-san now, but the abject exhaustion steals the syllables from his mind. He opens his mouth anyway.

Before he remembers verbalising anything, though, arms close around him. The incongruous warmth is suddenly very welcoming.

…

Sunlight presses insistently into his eyelids, and reluctantly, he draws himself from oblivion. He stares at his surroundings.

A white-washed room: bare, minimally furnished with a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a double bed. He finds himself in the latter, bundled between white sheets. The open blinds of the single window paint stripes on the opposite wall; it is the only disruption to the spartan economy of the place. Gingerly, Chuuya pushes himself out from the covers.

There is the thump of fallen fabric, and he turns in surprise to see his outerwear and gloves fanned out onto the floorboards. He picks them up from their folded arrangement and idly shrugs on his coat, frowning slightly at the unfamiliar shirt that he finds himself wearing. Then, brazenly, he continues to the drawers.

One by one, he silently pulls them out: folded underclothes, coiled belts, boxes of cufflinks, rolled-up socks. Unopened packets of bandages fill an entire compartment, neatly stacked. He moves onto the wardrobe and finds it much the same: suit jackets, dress shirts, trousers are draped on hangers equidistant from each other. A small rack displays a selection of identical black ties. Altogether, a colourless rainbow; immaculate, as though from a catalogue.

Chuuya stands back from the furniture and stares at them for a while.

He finds Dazai Osamu sprawled on the floor in what appears to be the main living space of the residence, paper maps spread out all about him. He looks up as soon as Chuuya steps out from the bedroom.

“What is this place?”

“Well, you see, Chuuya,” Dazai says, drawing out his name in tuneless song. Chuuya stiffens at the assumed familiarity. “Last night, I didn’t particularly want to deal with Kouyou-nee-san and her whole mother duck act. So I took you to my apartment instead! You can make your explanations to her yourself.”

Chuuya stares at him for a moment, before the rage flashes up his spine, red-hot. “Make my explanations? You say that like I wasn’t there trying to save your stupid ass from becoming dead human pancake. She’s going to be pissed as hell that I didn’t go home at all last night." He pauses to take a breath. "What did you do to me, anyway?”

Dazai’s beam doesn’t waver, even as he extracts Chuuya’s mobile phone from his pocket and waves it around. “You do have a couple of missed calls.”

Chuuya scowls. “You even had the fucking nerve to go through my stuff. Give it back.”

Dazai shrugs and throws it at him.

Five missed calls and seven text messages. In spite of the anger that he’s sure to find in them, Chuuya swallows at Kouyou’s evident concern. He tries to draft up the optimum responses to her questions, but there is only really one thing he could say: I saw Dazai Osamu jumping from the top of headquarters, but I don’t know why I jumped after him.

Put like that, there is no conceivable way he could escape Kouyou’s wrath.

“If it’s any consolation, yesterday was a particularly difficult anniversary for your ane-san. That’s probably why she was especially worried.” Chuuya glances at Dazai, but Dazai has returned to his diligent study of his papers. “She’ll be feeling a little silly now, so she’ll go easy on you when you— when you get home.”

“How do you know that?”

Dazai looks up at him and smiles. The light reflects off his dark eyes, like a cat’s.

Chuuya grits his teeth and growls, “What do you know about her that I don’t?” but Dazai simply swings himself upwards and and pulls his arms into a stretch. Chuuya notices a brown-streaked shirt crumpled on the arm of the couch, and irritation wars with curiosity until he gives in.

“Got into a fight?” Chuuya nods at the garment.

“Oh. That’s…” Dazai is staring at him a little oddly. “That’s not mine.”

“It sure looks like one of your boring shirts.” Too late, Chuuya wonders if that gives away his snooping in the closet. Oh, well. He wanders closer and drops down on the other end of the couch.

“It’s not my blood.” Dazai picks it up gingerly between two fingers. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

“What kind of question is that? I only used my ability to save a suicidal maniac and now I feel like I’ve been hit by a car.”

Dazai’s eyes are keen. “Using your ability feels like that?”

Chuuya scowls. “No. It’s never been like this before. It feels even worse than when Ane-san pushes me really hard during training.”

“Training?” Dazai murmurs. “And how is that going?”

"It's going fine!"

Dazai smiles faintly, a gesture appearing to be borne more of habit than of emotion. “That badly, huh...” he murmurs, and serenely ignores Chuuya’s aggrieved “I didn’t say that!”

Dazai’s stare is uncanny as he absently balls up the shirt. He hums in acknowledgement and glances away, gaze blank even as his eyes skim the maps on the ground.

Curiosity wins again, so Chuuya asks, “Were you working on something for Mori-san?”

“Hm?” Dazai’s gaze sharpens and he finally seems to notice the maps around him. His lips curve down in sudden glumness. “Oh, no. I was just checking out some suicide destinations, you know. Turns out that there aren’t really any cliffs nearby. But Toujinbou does sound really cool, so I was thinking of a holiday—”

Chuuya stares at him silently.

…

The whole experience was rather bizarre. Later, Chuuya tries to forget it all.

As luck — or some other manipulative force — would have it, two months later Chuuya runs into Dazai Osamu again. He has now acquired a set of walking crutches and a stack of thick textbooks, and has commandeered the table of one of the conference rooms in the headquarters. Chuuya immediately considers turning right around and exiting, but Dazai has already looked up at the noise.

Instead, Chuuya asks, “Why the fuck are you reading about quantum mechanics?”

“I’m trialling another method of suicide.”

“Right.”

Dazai glances down again as he turns a page. “I wanted to see if it was possible to bore myself to death. But this is too painful. It’s not worth it. Suicides should be enjoyable, shouldn’t they?”

“I’m just going to go,” Chuuya says. “Goodbye, nice seeing that you haven’t offed yourself yet, I guess, whatever—”

“No, no,” Dazai cuts in. He smiles at Chuuya and in that split-second, he looks so young. “Stay. Sit down.”

“What for?”

“I want to talk to you.”

Chuuya pulls out a chair and warily takes a seat. “So talk.”

“How would you feel,” Dazai says, placing a hand underneath his chin and flipping another text-heavy page casually, “about being my partner?”

“Your partner?”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Dazai flicks his eyes up at him, as though bored. “Mori-san will be the next boss. I’m the mafia’s best strategist. I can help you with your ability.”

“What.” Chuuya says this flatly. He doesn’t even know where to begin to address Dazai’s statements, each one as ludicrous as the next.

“Gravity manipulation, right?” Dazai nods at the books. “I’m afraid that the current science has yet to catch up with the specifics, but I think I have an adequate understanding of how your ability should work. I also have the ability of nullification. I can ensure that nothing like what happened to you two months ago happens again.”

Chuuya stares at him, nonchalant and aloof, lounging in the chair in front of the panorama of the Yokohama bay. He carefully tries to avoid thinking about that night two months ago, but the terror rushes to his throat as though he is watching the scene unfold in front of him now. The fall of the slight figure, as though in slow motion— the wind flapping through his coat, the bile in his mouth as his fingers missed the other’s hand. Serendipity made it so that this failing ensured his survival: if he had made contact with Dazai, For The Tainted Sorrow would have been nullified and they both would have splattered onto the streets of Yokohama. But because he missed, he had done— done something and then spent the next week recovering from whatever it was, but.

But they were both alive. He didn’t fail. Not really. Well, from his own perspective, anyway, even if Dazai's peaceful face haunted his nightmares during sleepless nights.

He says, “Choose another partner. If what you said is true, I’m sure there’s someone who’s interested.”

Dazai frowns at him. “I want you.”

“Well, I’m not fucking interested.”

Dazai stares at him in silence. After a few moments, he says, “Back then, when you jumped after me like a fool. You shouldn’t have been able to use your ability on me.”

“I didn’t use my damn ability on you,” Chuuya snaps. “I couldn’t even touch you, could I?”

Dazai smiles. “So how did you do it?”

Chuuya looks away, into the glare of the afternoon sun. “I don’t know.”

Dazai is still staring at him. After a moment, he says, “This is my hypothesis. For The Tainted Sorrow is a gravity manipulation ability. But there is another form of your ability which is far stronger and exceedingly more dangerous. If we can figure out how you can use that, you’ll be an unstoppable force.”

Chuuya blanches, half at the suggestion, half at the distinctly-remembered pain. “Do you even hear yourself? First you say that you’ll make sure that nothing like that happens again. Then you say that you want to figure out how it works.”

The smile has entirely faded from Dazai’s face. Now he just looks back at him, expression grim and betraying nothing.

Finally, Chuuya says, “Just tell me why you did it.”

Dazai Osamu had the grace not to pretend at ignorance, but Chuuya knew that the tilt of his lips promised nothing but bullshit. “The lights were really pretty that night,” is what Dazai says. “I was just thinking that I liked this city a lot.”

#portmafiaweek #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #soukoku #fic

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nedostajeminasaljubavmila · 5 years

Text

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thegrapplingminstrel · 7 years

Text

The Last Garuda

Humanity haven’t fought amongst themselves for almost half a century by now. When the Mythos descended upon the planet, all lines that divided mankind seemed to vanish before a common enemy. That was the case when Axis forces raged across Europe, so it only made sense that it was also the way of things when invaders from the skies decided to try and take away the world.

Years after what came to be called the Mythos war, man once again proved that history has a penchant of being repetitive, just as the eastern turned against the western block, so too did the last three Bastions of Humanity. Across the blue earth, men fought over what was left of their sunken planet. The three Bastions of course refused to wage open warfare, thus little proxy wars were made, using freelancers to claim riches from under the waves.

The Java Sea, being the halfway point between two of the last three bastions of humanity, had been fought over by freelancers for months, each one paying allegiance to either New Babylon or the Dragon’s Garden. It was a war in all but name, but countries do love being diplomatic. One of these freelancers were the Hussars, notorious for their aggressive tactics and a success rate fitting of their legendary namesake. On the third week of August, they went to battle once again.

---

The first shot of the battle came from the Syahbandar stationed above the sunken ruin of Bandung, once a backwater mountain city far from the coasts. The shot landed on the water, as it always does, since the damn thing covers up nine-tenth of the planet nowadays. Even from this far out, Johnny Sunday can see the hulking marine gun-platform glistening under the sun, its large barrels aimed in his general direction. The machine was made to act as a mobile naval fortress and it looked the part.

“Johnny sees the target,” he half-yelled into his radio as he zoomed past the water plume, his mark 2 AEGIS (lovingly named Mary, after his mom) began to rattle due to the speed he’s forcing on it, but good old Mary would hold, like its namesake, she was one tough dame. “Permission to fire hull-buster missiles, boss?” “That’s a negative Heartbreaker,” came the cold reply from the other end of the radio. “Disable their guns, the boarding squadron will take care of the rest.”

Great, Johnny thought to himself, the boss wants him to do this the hard way. If he pulls this off, he looks like a rock star, if he doesn’t, he dies. Not the worst deal he ever had, if he was being honest.

From on high he can see the wall of flak incoming, blotting out the sky with thick dark clouds. It was a primitive weapon, made over a hundred years ago before the continents sank, but high velocity shells and shrapnel have a way of never going out of style.

“If Johnny dies today, tell his mama he loves her!” he said for what must have been the fiftieth time this year alone, he was sure they were sick of hearing him say it by now. His mech dived lower, cutting to the right side of the enemy vessel. He felt his stomach churn, you can get used to G-force, but you’ll never be immune to it. Right before his mech touched the water, he pulled up and levelled himself with the surface, too low for the Flak to target, just right for the rest of the enemy guns. Their first volley of armour piercing shell missed him by at least ten meter, the second one by three at most, and before they reloaded for the third, he was upon them, his heart pounding in his chest so hard he thought it was going to kill him.

The Syahbandar had four gun emplacement and one main cannon, four targets, and Johnny was going too fast to get a second shot on each. He glanced at each one, letting the ocular targeting system get a lock on each, but that satisfying chime that signalled a lock-on never came, so he fired on instinct, letting loose a volley of rockets at each gun.

He couldn’t see the explosion, he couldn’t even hear them; within a few seconds he had already gone well past the enemy ship.

“Did Johnny get ‘em boss?” he asked, finally slowing down enough to make a turn.

“You got the AA guns,” came the reply. “The boarding squad will take over from here.”

---

It was hard to not be wistful sometimes when you’re fighting close to home. Bima had a girlfriend in Bandung once, so he used to visit the little mountain town on weekends (most Jakartans did). She had pale white skin and long dark hair, a Sundanese maiden through and through. They broke up long before he went into project Noah’s stasis pod, he wondered if she died in the city below them. Did she marry before the Mythos struck? Did she remember him, even?

"Heartbreaker took out the AA gun," said a voice from the radio, taking Bima out of his reverie. "Boarding team, prepare for deployment."

The shuttle jerked under him and floated upwards. He still couldn’t get used to how quiet it is, the new generation of aircraft had no rotors, no turbine. Their engineer Shannon tried to explain how they worked to him, but it was all gibberish and he had long since stopped trying to understand the tech around him.

“Three hundred meters to target,” he heard the squad leader said from the other side of the passenger bay. It was odd to him seeing a woman lead a team of men in battle, but the mechanized infantry armour of the day meant physical strength of a soldier meant little, and she was a better shot than anyone else they had.

“Old man, tell us about this city,” she added. She doesn’t look any older than him, but technically he WAS about a hundred years old.

“It was a lake once,” he said

“What’s a lake?” a teammate asked.

Before he could find a good answer, the red light by the shuttle door flashed. It was time to work.

He didn’t wait for the lines to drop, every second counted. They had covering fire from the mini-gun slung under their shuttle, but it had only so many bullets it could fire before reloading, once the hail was gone, anyone dropping onto the deck would be target practice for its defenders. The others were too heavy to jump down, but he wasn’t wearing a mechanized armour, he can jump down just fine.

His knees buckled hard as he landed, adrenaline kept him focused, but he knew tomorrow was going to be painful. “Going in,” he said to his com. The hail stopped, and for a moment, everything was silent save the buzzing noise in his ear. He aimed his rifle, larger but lighter than what he was used to in his previous life, towards the exit hatch from which the defenders would come out. A lone sentry popped out of it, Bima caught him in the centre of his chest once, then another time on the chin, he wasted two more bullets which strayed wildly, but it didn’t matter, the man fell dead. He kept firing, buying time for his squad as they slid down the line from the shuttle onto the enemy vessel.

Once the entire squad has gathered, the battle became a grind. Boarding a ship was bloody work, the narrow corridors making each encounter a personal, up close affair. They tossed grenades around every corner, then Bima would go in for the kill. Sometimes they were already down when he went in, other times he had to cut them down with his knife. It was an archaic weapon used by the earliest human tribes and modern men alike, no one used them in the Mythos war due to the size of the alien invaders, but these were men and a knife works on them just fine as long as he got them through the visor. His enemies were hardened veterans of a very different war from what he was used to. Killing another man was new to them, it was second nature to him.

‘Onwards without fear,’ He repeated under his breath with each new corridor they took, until at last they reached the bridge. It was locked from within, so was the engine room and the cargo hull.

“Ship secured” he said into his comm.

---

As a commander, the mercenary leader known only as Nero never had to step into the battlefield. He was the man who moved the chess pieces from afar, and he was good at it, but he wanted to see with his own eyes what was on the cargo hull. It was more than just easy money to pay his men and upkeep his little army, it was more than that. All the literature he devoured as a child spoke of how the object was a turning point in human history once, it will be so once more.

By the time he was on-deck, the boarding party had pinned the remaining enemy combatants down. They called for an unconditional surrender and Nero agreed. He lied. The moment every one of them were on deck, he gave the order to gun them down. They were loose-ends, he doesn’t like those.

“You disagree with what we’ve done, Bima?” he asked his escort as they descended into the cargo hull. The man was an antediluvian, born before the flood, so he stood heads and shoulders above him.

“They surrendered, sir,” the soldier said. “They’re prisoners of war.”

“I am well aware of what the Geneva Convention said,” Nero said without a hint of regret. “But Switzerland is gone, and so has every other country that signed that treaty.”

Bima was a good soldier. Nero had no doubt the man would follow orders, but like every other antediluvians he knew, he had much to learn about the new blue world.

As they reached the cargo hull, they were greeted by three other soldiers from the boarding crew. They had ransacked the room, breaking open all containers stored within. Most of them had useless relics in them, statues, intact pre-flood machineries wanted only by collectors, none of them worth his time. What they were looking for was something much more important.

The object was kept in a metal crate, waterproof and airtight. It was a tool of war from a time long gone, dangerous exactly because of how primitive it was. “Is that it?” he asked Bima. The man stepped forth to inspect the marking on the crate, recognition clearly written across his face. To the old world, the mark upon the crate was one associated with nothing but fear and death.

“Yes, that’s it,” he said.

“That’s the nuke.”

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