[ a nuisance is hardly the worst thing steve’s been called. hardly the worst thing he’s been called while fighting something he shouldn’t, being somewhere he wasn’t supposed to, etc. etc. etc. the point is, it doesn’t bother him now. especially not when he can tell it’s working.
it’s working! nero’s claws in her underbelly and steve’s use of her other limb. she screams, something curling and off and shrieking. steve winces at the sound, and then pulls the limb away, the squelching of tissue and ichor schlepping to the ground under it the wound. she stumbles away, and steve follows her, eyes on her every move. he has a feeling that’s it, and the relief may be a little early as it floods him, but god- god. her body quivers, her exoskeleton starts to bubble, and as the god’s attention turns on him - steve is sneering back, the adrenaline giving him a kind of confidence he very rarely, truly feels. ]
Fuck you! [ he spats, watching her body swell, and then burst, ichor exploding outward in every direction.
it’s honestly…..disgusting. like. truly awful. steve’s heightened sense of smell has his stomach turning, threatening to hurl, but he swallows it back once, then twice, before he can’t hold it back anymore. just like the great heroes of old, steve turns to the side and feels his stomach revolt, puking out anything and everything he had left in him.
it takes a moment- actually, one or two. he breathes, heavy, feeling the exhaustion and the pain of the cuts and everything, all at once. his hands are on his knees, but he’s still upright when he huffs out a laugh. ] If we can- not mention the barfing, that’d be. Awesome. [ the words come without steve really thinking about it. assuming nero will be standing there, that he’ll be walking up any moment and holding out a hand to help steve stand back up. he’s never gonna hear the end of this, he knows, but even that embarrassment can’t cut through the thought, the reality-
they did it.
but the hand never comes, neither does the comment. one second passes, then another, and steve suddenly feels a kind of chill. ] Nero? [ he blinks, straightens, and then- ] Nero?
[ he bolts, lunging around the carcass of the old god and sliding to his knees where nero still lays, hot panic and a cold, hard, overwhelming fear replacing any relief he might have had.
steve falls to his knees at nero’s side, eyes darting between open wounds, at the blood, at what is the black goo of the monster and what isn’t. he’s trying to see what he needs to do, what’s even going on, but it’s starting to be hard to breathe.
his hands go to nero’s chest, trying to stop the bleeding. shouldn’t he be healing? why isn’t he healing? ]
Shit, shit- Nero. What’s- hey, hey man, you’re okay. Yeah? Hey, c’mon, you gotta get up. C’mon-
no subject
it’s working! nero’s claws in her underbelly and steve’s use of her other limb. she screams, something curling and off and shrieking. steve winces at the sound, and then pulls the limb away, the squelching of tissue and ichor schlepping to the ground under it the wound. she stumbles away, and steve follows her, eyes on her every move. he has a feeling that’s it, and the relief may be a little early as it floods him, but god- god. her body quivers, her exoskeleton starts to bubble, and as the god’s attention turns on him - steve is sneering back, the adrenaline giving him a kind of confidence he very rarely, truly feels. ]
Fuck you! [ he spats, watching her body swell, and then burst, ichor exploding outward in every direction.
it’s honestly…..disgusting. like. truly awful. steve’s heightened sense of smell has his stomach turning, threatening to hurl, but he swallows it back once, then twice, before he can’t hold it back anymore. just like the great heroes of old, steve turns to the side and feels his stomach revolt, puking out anything and everything he had left in him.
it takes a moment- actually, one or two. he breathes, heavy, feeling the exhaustion and the pain of the cuts and everything, all at once. his hands are on his knees, but he’s still upright when he huffs out a laugh. ] If we can- not mention the barfing, that’d be. Awesome. [ the words come without steve really thinking about it. assuming nero will be standing there, that he’ll be walking up any moment and holding out a hand to help steve stand back up. he’s never gonna hear the end of this, he knows, but even that embarrassment can’t cut through the thought, the reality-
they did it.
but the hand never comes, neither does the comment. one second passes, then another, and steve suddenly feels a kind of chill. ] Nero? [ he blinks, straightens, and then- ] Nero?
[ he bolts, lunging around the carcass of the old god and sliding to his knees where nero still lays, hot panic and a cold, hard, overwhelming fear replacing any relief he might have had.
steve falls to his knees at nero’s side, eyes darting between open wounds, at the blood, at what is the black goo of the monster and what isn’t. he’s trying to see what he needs to do, what’s even going on, but it’s starting to be hard to breathe.
his hands go to nero’s chest, trying to stop the bleeding. shouldn’t he be healing? why isn’t he healing? ]
Shit, shit- Nero. What’s- hey, hey man, you’re okay. Yeah? Hey, c’mon, you gotta get up. C’mon-