Featuring:Steve attempts to enlist in the army yet again and after a scuffle in an alleyway, Bucky tends to Steve in more ways than one. Meanwhile, in Brooklyn, at a registration office, there were dozens of men in their underwear, reading newspapers and chatting as they waited to be examined and recruited. In the midst of muscle and skin, however, was a small, fragile, skinny boy named Steve Rogers. He had short, blond hair, a pale, narrow face and very pink lips. Finally, the man behind the desk called the boy’s name up. Steve folded his newspaper and stood up, before walking over with his half nude, thin body on complete display. He walked to the desk and handed his papers to the older man.
“What did your father die of?” He asked as he read through them. “Mustard gas. He was in the 107th Infantry.” Steve answered, calmly. “I was hoping I could be assigned-” “Your mother?” “She was a nurse in a TB ward. Got hit. Couldn’t shake it.” Steve explained. The man’s eyes scanned down the long list of medical issues on Steve’s papers. “Sorry, son.” “Look, just give me a chance.” “You’d be ineligible on your asthma alone.” “Is there anything you can do?” Steve asked, desperate. “I’m doing it. I’m saving your life.” And just like that, Steve was denied. Despite his ambition to become a soldier and serve his country, his body wouldn’t let him. It was depressing and soul crushing, no matter how many times Steve tried to sign up for the army.
0 Comments
In March, 1942, during the Second World War, there was a church in Tensberg, Norway. Inside, an old man stood there as it’s guardian, watching over an ancient artefact that was so secret, not even he had laid his eyes upon it. He had messy, white hair and a long, grey, dirty coat. But the small, defenseless town was under attack by the Nazi army and as the old man hid inside, he feared they were after the hidden treasure of untold powers. A young soldier assigned to help protect the man rushed over, warning him that the Nazis were coming to the church. He was fit, handsome and wore dark, earthy tones. The ground beneath them shook, making candelabras rattle on shelves and dust fall from above. The large doors were shaking and they could hear a violent rumbling. Then for a moment, it paused. The soldier and guardian stood there, looking up at the doors in frozen terror. Boom! The short silence was disturbed as the wall surrounding the doors blew up. It blasted forwards and began toppling over towards the old man and the soldier. Although the old guardian was able to evade the falling, heavy, stone bricks, the young soldier wasn’t quite fast enough. They crashed into his skull, crushing the man beneath the bone crunching wall. As the dust cleared, the old man saw a large, steel battering ram retracting back outside. The guardian reached down and lifted one of the fallen bricks, revealing the dead soldier whose head was caved in from the sheer mass of the church’s wall. A tank was sitting outside as the sound of a car engine grew closer and closer. Johann Schmidt, nicknamed the ‘Red Skull’ and leader of the Nazi scientific division, Hydra, parked outside of the church in his long Coupe. The Hydra logo was on the emblem at the front of the car, a skull with tentacles protruding from the bottom. Johann is a tall, peculiar looking man with slick black dark hair and very defined cheekbones. His eyes were bloodshot and his body was muscular, though it wasn’t obvious when he wore his long black coat. He also wore a cap and black, leather gloves. He followed other soldiers into the church as they tried to push the lid of a stone coffin, but it was far too heavy even for all four of the Hydra soldiers. The lid of the coffin was carved to look like Odin, the Norse God, holding a sword. But as Schmidt stood in the large void the wall once was, all the soldiers paused and looked up at their commander.
“It has taken me a long time to find this place.” Schmidt began as he walked through the rubble, so smoothly it was like sand. “You should be commended.” He said as he approached the guardian, looking him in the eyes with arrogance and confidence. “I think you are a man of great vision. And, in this way, we are much alike.” Schmidt told him. “I am nothing like you.” The guardian spat. “No, of course, but what others see as superstition, you and I know to be science.” Schmidt continued. “What you seek is just a legend.” The guardian lied, in hopes of keeping it secret. “Then why make such an effort to conceal it?” Schmidt said before calmly walking towards the coffin. He took a moment to study the coffin, before he easily pushed the lid straight off, sending it crashing onto the concrete floor on the other side. It revealed a skeleton inside, still wearing armour and holding a strange, glass cube with a blue tint to it. Schmidt reached down and ripped the cube from the bones, snapping the fingers off of the skeleton as he held it up. “The Tesseract was the jewel of Odin’s treasure room.” He said before dropping it to the floor, making it smash to pieces. “It’s not something one buries. But I think it is close, yes?” Schmidt questioned, getting intimately closer to the guardian. “I cannot help you.” “No. But maybe you can help your village. You must have some friends out there. Some little grandchildren, perhaps? I have no need for them to die.” Schmidt threatened before the tank outside aimed it’s gun out towards the village. The guardian’s eyes flashed towards a mural carved into a wall of a very intricate looking tree with roots that tangled like tentacles. Schmidt noticed. He began walking towards the mural in awe. “Yggdrasil. Tree of the world. Guardian of wisdom. And fate, also.” Schmidt said, spotting a detail in one of the roots. A snake was coiling around it, with a mysterious looking eye. He pushed in the eye and a section of the mural clicked open, revealing it to be a secret compartment. He pulled the drawer out from the wall and turned towards the church keeper, who was shaking in fear. Schmidt slid open the drawer and a bright, blue glow painted his face as he looked down onto the Tesseract. Inside was a luminous cube that looked far more magical and precious than the fake version in the coffin. “And the Fuhrer digs for trinkets in the desert.” Schmidt tutted. “You have never seen this, have you?” He questioned the guardian. “It’s not for the eyes of ordinary men.” He muttered. “Exactly.” Schmidt sneered before shutting the box. “Give the order to open fire.” Schmidt instructed his soldiers. “Fool!” The guardian said, in one last act of bravery. “You cannot control the power you hold. You will burn!” “I already have.” Schmidt said, pulling out a gun. He shot the defenseless old man, blasting a hole into his chest. As he fell, Schmidt’s jaw twitched and his leather-clothed fingers massaged his cheek for a moment. He looked uncomfortable as blood dripped from the Hydra pin on his coat. |
About MeI write tons of smut based on TV shows, movies, comics and celebrities. Whether you want a series about Riverdale or an exclusive escort, there'll always be something you'll enjoy! Categories
All
|