"you're literally just changed their ages—" shussshhhhh
Steve Rogers was the only child to survive when the Howling Commandos stormed the HYDRA laboratory where children had been kidnapped and taken. Not only that, he was the only child with the original super-soldier serum coursing through his veins.
Dr. Abraham Erskine, who had failed to escape from Germany, was forced to assist HYDRA in developing the super-soldier serum by using children as test subjects. They could have simply used their own soldiers, but in wartime, higher casualty rates among soldiers were expected on the battlefield, not in the lab.
The U.S. military and government clearly wanted to take Steve in for further study, but Bucky couldn’t bear to see Steve taken out of one cage only to be put into another. Therefore, he instead took Steve with him to the battlefield as his sidekick. He even gave Steve the shield that was originally created for him. Steve’s duties also focused more on managing information and devising strategies (because, my goodness, that kid is so smart).
In the end, when the two of them were on the plane rigged with a bomb, Bucky—who had already made a vow to protect Steve— kicked him off the plane, knowing that Steve had a better chance of survival thanks to the Super Soldier serum.
Just as expected, Steve was frozen and found decades later, while Bucky would become the Winter Soldier.
So yes bcs i make old characters younger and young characters older, you'll have teacher Peter Parker, law student Matt Murdock, MIT student Tony Stark, college students Reed Richards, Sue Storms, and Bruce Banner, etc etc
felt very inspired by yesterday's post, so here you go guys, a tiny treat from me while i work on the main story.
—
Bleach, Sprite; all the same!
DESC: achlyss stores weird things in even weirder places. one thing leads to another, and thor just so happens to mistake bleach for soda.
WC: ~1400 words (this was supposed to be max. 800 words im so deadass)
WARNINGS: mentions of sui attempts; (mildly) suicidal achlyss. no other warnings (i think) !
teenie weenie bit of angst at the end, idk if that can rly be considered angst tho lol. achlyss is a crybaby what else is there to say
—
What had Achlyss *not* consumed at this point? He’d eaten soap bars, forced chunks of lithium down his throat, and ingested many chemicals that no one knew where he got them from. Everyone was aware of his eating habits — and they could easily guess *why* he had them: He searched for something that would ultimately kill him.
So far, he had no success regarding that. Not that the others minded; in fact, it had become a running gag. Every other day, Ruler would come out of his room, or come back after a suspiciously long mission, looking like a kicked dog, and someone would always ask him what it was he tried to kill himself with this time. Usually, it was Banner, giving him a smile that looked both amused and pitying at the same time. But the news spread fast, and by the end of the day, everyone would have found out about Achlyss’ most recent try at dying. They usually laugh about it, seeing how it harms no one. Besides, basically all the Avengers had humor as one of their coping mechanisms. And Achlyss never minded them making fun of his silly attempts. No — not at all; it actually made him feel accepted and normal. A reason his attempts weren’t as frequent as when he was “just” a SHIELD agent. No wonder he had so much trust in Fury’s Avengers project. It really served as a bridge to a better life for him.
Achlyss kept his food stored in the kitchen — the only problem was that it *wasn’t* food. He usually put it in food containers, into bottles that previously held something drinkable, sometimes even into empty snack packages. Hell, he’d once put radioactive — but very edible looking — goo into a sauce bottle. Natasha had given a heads-up to everyone about the boy’s odd habit of putting non-edible and hazardous things into food packages, but sometimes it still slipped past one’s thoughts. I mean, come on, are you really going to spend ten minutes figuring out if the Oreos are real or made of some life-threatening chemicals when you’ve just come back after a mission and crave cookies like *crazy*? Thankfully, for such cases, Achlyss had a camera stored in the fridge that notified him when there was movement, preventing any kind of unfortunate accidents from happening.
Until today, that is.
That Sprite bottle had gotten into the fridge only last evening, when Ruler filled it up with his favorite brand of bleach — “The one that burns just right,” as he liked to say. Or rather, excuse the obsession with annoying the shit out of Virus by forcing it to keep him in a constantly healing state by drinking bleach every day. His goal was for it to get exhausted healing him passively all the time and stop for once — then he would die. Perfect plan; flawless, amazing — *genius*, even. Regardless, he prided himself on his smart ideas. What he *hadn’t* expected, however, was his camera’s battery going out and a certain Asgardian mistaking the thing for normal soda. Just as Ruler started feeling safer with his food-related habits around the other Avengers. Great.
Now Achlyss had to figure out how to deal with a passed-out bulk of muscle lying in a spilled puddle of bleach. Well, damn him. Who told him it was okay to touch others’ stuff, anyway? The thing had Ruler’s name written on it in thick, readable letters with a Sharpie. Then again, could Thor even read English? Ah, nevermind that — what kind of stupid question was that? Of course he could.
Achlyss felt terrified. He hadn’t ever been involved in something like this; it was usually *him* experiencing death, not those he considered his only friends. What if he died? His heart nearly jumped out of his ribcage at the thought, his binder suddenly feeling very constricting. He couldn’t just let his favorite blondie pass like that. Especially since it would be his fault entirely — so much that he could be called a murderer. So, Ruler rushed towards his room, remembering he kept some medicine there for emergencies (others’ emergencies, not his), leaving Thor unconscious on the ground.
—
“Oh, *fuck*! Guys! Does anyone know what happened to Thor?!” Clint called out, eyes wide at the sight of Thor lying on the floor, gurgling something intelligible. He was *way* too sober for this; “Ugh, it reeks of bleach — what the hell, dude? Did you drink that? Thor!” Hawkeye leaned down, crouching as one hand brushed the prince’s forehead, checking for fever, then moving down to assess his pulse. Seemed alright, he noted.
Natasha and Steve were the first ones to arrive at the crime scene; together, they lifted the God off the ground, helping him onto a nearby couch. He coughed. Once, twice. It sounded painful. Very much so. Banner quickly strode into the room, followed by an evidently unamused Tony. “Now, which one of you is the culprit? Do you want trouble with Asgard, murdering their Prince *oh-so* heartlessly? Shame on you,” He cooed, stepping in front of Thor and snapping his fingers multiple times in front of his face.
“He’s not dead, Tony,” Steve retorted firmly, brows narrowing, shoulders tensing. The billionaire only shrugged, smirking — of course Cap would get all bothered by his words. Who else, if not him?
“Your… so-called Soda—” Thor groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes; “is brutal, friends.” Banner’s brows narrowed. When had soda ever been an issu— Oh. He exchanged looks with the others, eyes landing on Steve, who shot both a pleading and concerned look into Natasha’s and Clint’s direction. She shrugged, sighing; “We’ll get him.” Clint nodded, jogging toward Achlyss’ quarters with Nat close behind him.
—
Achlyss frantically rummaged through his shelves. Panic rose within him at a rapid pace, making his movements clumsy. Where had he put that damn med kit again? He’d been so sure that it was in his room that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of it *not* being there. His hands trembled. He couldn’t be *killing* his friend. No, no, no — he simply wouldn’t allow that to happen. Just *why* did the situation have to unfold like that? At least it was Thor who drank it, he thought, a foolish attempt to cheer himself up. Surely it would’ve killed anyone else — maybe not Banner or Steve, but you get the idea. Dang it, that thought didn’t comfort him in the slightest. In fact, it worsened the panic: What if someone else tried the drink? Fuck. He needed to get going. “Nobody drink that Sprite — it’s bleach — guys; *bleach*!” He yelled, standing up and bolting out of his room after the unsuccessful search and the painful realization that worse things could happen any moment; “Thor, hold on for me, I’m coming to save you!” Just as he turned the corner in the hall, he ran headfirst into Clint — stumbling backwards as Natasha’s hands reached out to steady him, doing so with practiced ease. Ruler had quite the history of colliding into people, or other things such as furniture or even walls.
“Oh, *boy*, do you have some explaining to do,” Clint crossed his arms, a deep sigh escaping him when he noticed his guilt-ridden expression. The two gave each other perplexed looks as Natasha smiled lightly at him, tilting his chin up when he’d lowered his head in shame; “C’mon. We’re not mad. Just worried. Thor’s fine. Well, mostly. He’s talking about some brutal soda.” That pulled a snort out of Achlyss, his heart rate steadying moderately. The Widow had a way of calming down, that’s for sure.
“I—I’m sorry,” He started, feeling his throat lock up; “I didn’t mean any harm — he… he took it, I didn’t even know! M—My camera, it was off and—” His words faded into a broken sob, a gentle hand on his back anchoring him as he cried. Conscience gnawed at him. He had meant no harm, really. These stupid, stupid habits of his — it was all his fault for not fixing them, for not even attempting to fix them at least once. Self-loathing snuck into his thoughts, making him blame Virus for everything again. That dumb thing; it was its fault that Thor got hurt. If Achlyss had been dead, none of this would have happened! If Virus didn’t constantly hold him back from dying, he would have just quietly disappeared and no one would have to deal with his antics *ever* again. His tears wouldn’t stop falling as the two had led him to where Thor was. Thor, who had already mostly recovered, safe for the noticeable croaking in his voice. And the burning pain in his throat, which he did not mention.
—
there we go ^_^ !!! big big thanks to @capturedmorn for giving me the inspiration to write this 🥹🥹 it is not exactly as youd said it im sorry im bad to sticking to a storyline 100% </3
i mighttt consider giving this a second part, but that one will definitely involve some more angst and pain for achlyss because hes js stupid like that lol
feedback/rbs appreciated ^_^ im still improving, and id be grateful for any form of criticism !
I just think AvAc Superior Iron Man!Tony will conquer the world in the least harmful and cutest way. (but Steeb will probably still be very worried haha)
(btw Plague Inc. is really amazing! I spend too much time playing it recently lol)
my dear, our love isn't beautiful
it's grimy with hate and despair
worn with desperation and doubt
stitched together with the thread of regret
and stained with tears of betrayal
but my love
despite all that it is
our love is true
its fabric crafted of compassion and hope
ripped apart and made anew
darling, our love isn't beautiful
it's meshed together of terrible burdens
hemmed with unspeakable things we both shared
pain and guilt embroidered in every surface
pieces of us cut away with blades of contempt
but my beloved,
we continue to spin yarn
of our endless suffering and age-old stories
you and I, together
the wheel toils to repair our tattered love
dearest, our love isn't beautiful
it's tragic and the stars whisper
the moon cries and the sun aches
the world regards us with pity
a romance threaded with sacrifice
but my sweet,
all i need is the universe in you
the very comfort you breathe
the warmth you give
and the way you move
my adored, our love isn't beautiful
but i will follow the trail of agony it leaves
because one day
i believe our love will be beautiful
and it will be ours
the christmas after his parents die, it’s him and jarvis and aunt peggy, and by the end of the night he’s singlehandedly finished the alcoholic eggnog that someone sent in the mail (and had probably gone bad the week before).
the christmas after afghanistan, it’s him and rhodey and pepper, and the eggnog is passed from person to person, just as intoxicating but not nearly as deadly when it can be shared among three.
the christmas after the battle of new york, it’s him and steve and barton and nat and bruce, and while the eggnog is sober the company isn’t, and they set aside a sixth glass for the big man from another world.
the christmas after the accords, it’s... him, and there’s no eggnog to pair with the alcohol anymore.
but when he sees steve again, when the battle is over and the war’s won, the christmas after the snap is so much sweeter, no eggnog needed to savor the taste.
