Souleblade - Avengers AU fic
Apr. 9th, 2015 07:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
This kind of stemmed from this video. I started thinking what weapons the other Avengers would have. Then I started think of what it would be like if everyone had magic weapons but the movies stayed the same.
So I wrote this.
Only compatible for the marvel movie!verse up to phase one.
Prologue
There have always been demons. Sharp fangs, sharper claws, able to tear though stone and steel. Drawn to places of misery and violence to destroy and feed.
But from the dawn of time humanity has always had one defence against them.
The Soulblade.
Weapons which hold part of the users soul. They are the only thing a demon can't destroy. They are only thing that can kill them.
So mankind flourished. As the ages went by demons became less of a threat. But the soulblades, and those who wield them, have always been humanity's best defence.
Captain America
The First Avenger
"So, wanna see?" Bucky asked. He knew he was going to be getting his orders soon and shipping out but he wanted to show Steve his soulblade now that it had been activated.
All soldiers had a souldblade, battlefields always attracted demons so they were expected to be able to defend themselves. Of course the army couldn't be expected to forge a soulblade from scratch for each solider so they received specially prepared blanks. Looking like ordinary weapons, they were kept though training and were activated when the solider was ready to be sent to battle. The massed produced ones were never as good as those forged especially for you but they killed demons and could only be draw from there invisible, intangible sheaths by their wielder. The signs of a true soulblade.
"Alright, lets see it." Steve grinned.
Bucky drew the standard short sword he was given, making it appear as if from nowhere, and held it out to his friend. The smaller man hesitated momentarily before taking it carefully.
There was a bit of a taboo about letting someone else handle your soulblade but Bucky knew there was no one else he'd trust part of his soul to. Besides, they both knew that this would be the only time Steve would get to hold one. He was far too poor to get one made and had too many health issues to get into a profession where he'd be supplied one.
"I thought they were supposed to look different after you put your soul in them. This just looks a bit skinner and I think it's shorter."
"Maybe my soul just remembers a certain punk we both know," He laughed. Steve's glare belied the careful way he handed the blade back.
"Nah, changing to an entirely different sword when activated is just a myth," Bucky explained, "You have to have one for years before it'll change to match you. Now come on. You and me have a fine pair of dames to show a good time to tonight."
-=*=-
"Fondue's just cheese and bread my friend," Howard explained to Steve as the walked into his workshop.
"Really? I didn't think-"
"Nor should you pal. The moment you think you know what's going on in a woman's head is the moment your goose is well and truly cooked. Me, I concentrate on work which at the moment means making sure you and your men don't get killed. And to that end... Follow me."
Walking to the end of a table, Stark continued, "It's probably a good thing they never activated a blank for you when they shipped you off with the showgirls."
Steve tried not to be nervous as he realised Stark was leading him to get his soulblade.
When the weapon maker said he was going to forge him a personal Blade Steve had been surprised.
He hadn't been given a blank in training because no one had thought he'd make it. Then, after the serum, when he finally was given one, he was told that it couldn't be activated straight away as the time it was kept during training was needed to acclimatise it to a person. Since he couldn't have it on stage (it didn't go with his costume apparently) the blade ended up lost in a pile of props.
"Honestly," Howard continued, "Considering what your soul wanted to be made into no blank would have fitted you properly anyway."
Steve had tried to ask what his soulblade was going to be before Stark started, only to be told it didn't work like that. Howard had given a long technical explanation when he had measurements and other things done that were apparently part of the prep-work for making the Blade but Steve hadn't been able to follow it. As near as he could figure it was something like staring at a blank page and waiting for inspiration.
Pulling aside a cloth Stark proudly said "I bet you've never seen something like this before."
"It's a shield." Steve said, surprised.
"Don't look at me, it's your soul. Besides, it's not just any shield. Pick it up."
He did, marvelling at how right it felt. He'd never seen a personally forged soulblade before, only the massed produced ones. They were, by definition, masterworks, as so were incredibly expensive. And, while he knew in theory that Blades didn't necessarily have to be blades he had never heard one being a shield.
It was, somehow, perfect.
"And that's not even the best part," Howard said happily, "It's made of vibranium, the rarest metal on earth. It's stronger then steel and a third the weight. It's completely vibration absorbent. You won't just be fighting demons with this. It can stop bullets!"
Peggy walked up in time to hear the last of Howard's little speech. "Are you quite finished Mr. Stark? I'm sure the Captain has some unfinished business."
"What do you think?" Steve smiled somewhat nervously at her.
Peggy picked up a gun from the bench beside her.
Steve hid behind his shield as she fired.
When she finished he carefully peered over the top only vaguely noting that there wasn't a scratch on it.
"Yes," Peggy said satisfied, "I think it works" She put the gun down and walked past.
Howard and Steve just stared as she walked out of the workshop.
Incredible Hulk
General Thunderbolt Ross frowned as he signed off the last of the paperwork from the latest mess with Banner. Another man had to be honourably discharged once he was out of the hospital. He didn't know how Banner had managed to turn himself into some kind of demon that couldn't be killed by a soulblade but that was obviously what he must have done. He'd lost too many soldiers when they instinctively attacked with their soulblades only to for them to be shattered by the monster. At least this time the solider hadn't died from shock. He'll never work in the army again, though. No solider could be expected to go into a battle defenceless against the demons attracted to the violence.
Ross stood up to find Blonsky. It might not be possible to make stronger soulblades but he may have another idea.
Iron Man
Yinsen watched impressed as his fellow captive worked long into the night.
When Stark had been brought in it had taken all his skill to save the man from the shrapnel making their way to his heart. And then again from shock when the terrorists snapped his soulblade in a vice while recording it for ransom.
He wished he was more surprised that had happened.
He had hoped that as stark wasn't a solider he would have been spared that particular method of torture. But, as was the trend with the rich, it seemed he had one for fashion purposes.
It was the big weakness of soulblades. Although none but their welder could bring them forth when they were sheathed, unless you were trained otherwise, it was instinctive to reach for the closest weapon to hand when your life was threatened. And this situation was most definitely life threatening. It was an unfortunate fact that while a soulblade cannot be damaged by demons, they were forged by mortal hands and so could be destroyed by mortal means.
But the Ten Rings miscalculated this time. Instead of breaking as they had obviously hoped, Stark just seemed more determined. He had correctly guessed that they had no intention of releasing him even if he cooperated and had launched himself into activity. First with Yinsen's help making a device to replace the car battery. And now re-forging his soulblade. It was like something from a legend.
It was definitely a re-forging, not just a repair. The ornate fencing blade that had been snapped in two was now thicker. The golden decoration bent & flattened to form a new handle. Although still obviously unfinished, the soulblade was straight and strong with no evidence of previous damage. It appeared that, like his farther, Tony Stark was not just a weapons-maker. He was a Master Smith.
Thor
Agent Coulson watched from a distance as the despondent blond man was hustled into a holding cell. Agent Barton ambled over, still dripping from the rain and holding his bow. Coulson didn't even bother to raise an eyebrow at that. He knew when he gave the order for someone to be up high with a gun if Hawkeye answered he'd undoubtedly pick his preferred weapon.
Barton nodded to the direction of his former target, now out of sight in the cell. "I never heard of someone not being able to wield their own soulblade before."
"You think that's what happened here?" Coulson asked, mildly.
"Must be," Clint nodded "You gotta admit, it's all very sword-in-the-stone like."
Coulson nodded.
Everyone knew the legend of Arthur and the sword forged to hold the soul of a king. Not to be confused with Excalibur, the sword given to him by the Lady of the Lake to fight his mortal foes. After all, soulblades can't cut living creatures.
"Well," Coulson began to head to the cell, "time to have a chat with our would be Arthur."
Avengers Assemble
Coulson only had a fraction of a second to register Thor's shock before the blade of Loki's staff reached his back. Far too small a time to consciously register the danger let alone act. But not too small a time for him to instinctively reach for his soulblade.
Too short a time to draw it but fast enough to make it appear from where it usually lay, invisible and intangible, sheathed on his back. Directly in the path of the spear.
His two handed great sword was enough to deflect the blow somewhat so it did not strike his heart but it was never designed to withstand the force of an angry Asgardian.
The shock of it breaking was almost more then the pain of the spear tearing a hole in his side.
Phil slumped to the ground as Loki went over to gloat at his brother.
That was a mistake, he wasn't dead yet.
After all, he still hadn't found out what the gun did.
Avengers: Hawkeye
Clint pushed all the pain, exhaustion, guilt and confusion from the last few days aside and concentrated on hitting the aliens invading New York and calling out positions to the team he found himself on.
Spotting a demon drawn to the battle he pulled back on his bow, his soulblade appearing before he finished the draw. The arrow sped towards its target, hitting it right in the eye. The demon dissipated, destroyed, and the arrow appeared back in Hawkeye's hand momentarily before he dismissed it, pulling a mundane piece of ammunition for the next target, an alien heading toward a group of cops evacuating the area. There weren't many demons around yet but Clint knew that'd change soon. At least they seemed to be treating the aliens as prey as well.
One of Clint's secrets was that his soulblade hadn't always been an arrow. He had been trained to use a sword as well as the bow when he was younger. Until his teacher had beaten him, broke it and left him for dead when he had refused to follow him into a life of crime.
Clint was pretty sure the only thing that saved him was that he was still young enough at the time to bounce back from the shock.
He had tried to find someone who could fix the Blade but all he could find was a lot of empty promises for money he didn't have.
But he learned.
He'd never be a Smith but he knew how to make arrows. So, on a hunch, he tried and experiment. And it worked.
The tip of his old blade was now the point of his Arrow and he'd never have to worry about being unarmed again.
Avengers: Black Widow
Natasha breathed a sigh of relief as the Hulk caught Stark. The aliens all collapsed when the portal closed. It was over.
She immediately cursed herself for thinking that as she saw demons climbing the tower. Having gone unnoticed in the commotion until now a swarm was converging on the centre of the catastrophe. Crawling, slithering and flying, they were all heading towards her.
How very unfortunate. For them.
She had been trained by the Red Room, an organisation that wanted perfect spies and assassins. They forged children into weapons but they also forged weapons for children.
The Black Widow drew her soulblades.
The Red Room had ignored the taboo of forging only one blade. While twin blades were not unheard of they were always forged at the same time, from the same piece of metal. But the Red Room didn't care if their charges soul was split too many times. They thought it would just make them more pliable.
Natasha had eight blades. Long and thin, double edged and double pointed. They had been originally forged without handles. If they were ordinary weapons they would have been unusable. But these were masterworks, forged solely for her.
All master-worked personal weapons had special properties. The most famous recent example was Captain America's shield, that was unbreakable and always returned to his hand no matter where he threw it. Another example was Stark's re-forged weapon, that fired its own repulsor blasts, ones that harmed demons when his normal ones couldn't scratch them.
But hers were different.
Eight sharp blades drew themselves from her back. Hovering in midair around her, they stared to spin. With them swirling around almost too fast for the eye to follow, Natasha walked towards the incoming swam.
It had been a long day and she was tired.
The demon horde didn't last ten minutes.
So I wrote this.
Only compatible for the marvel movie!verse up to phase one.
Prologue
There have always been demons. Sharp fangs, sharper claws, able to tear though stone and steel. Drawn to places of misery and violence to destroy and feed.
But from the dawn of time humanity has always had one defence against them.
The Soulblade.
Weapons which hold part of the users soul. They are the only thing a demon can't destroy. They are only thing that can kill them.
So mankind flourished. As the ages went by demons became less of a threat. But the soulblades, and those who wield them, have always been humanity's best defence.
Captain America
The First Avenger
"So, wanna see?" Bucky asked. He knew he was going to be getting his orders soon and shipping out but he wanted to show Steve his soulblade now that it had been activated.
All soldiers had a souldblade, battlefields always attracted demons so they were expected to be able to defend themselves. Of course the army couldn't be expected to forge a soulblade from scratch for each solider so they received specially prepared blanks. Looking like ordinary weapons, they were kept though training and were activated when the solider was ready to be sent to battle. The massed produced ones were never as good as those forged especially for you but they killed demons and could only be draw from there invisible, intangible sheaths by their wielder. The signs of a true soulblade.
"Alright, lets see it." Steve grinned.
Bucky drew the standard short sword he was given, making it appear as if from nowhere, and held it out to his friend. The smaller man hesitated momentarily before taking it carefully.
There was a bit of a taboo about letting someone else handle your soulblade but Bucky knew there was no one else he'd trust part of his soul to. Besides, they both knew that this would be the only time Steve would get to hold one. He was far too poor to get one made and had too many health issues to get into a profession where he'd be supplied one.
"I thought they were supposed to look different after you put your soul in them. This just looks a bit skinner and I think it's shorter."
"Maybe my soul just remembers a certain punk we both know," He laughed. Steve's glare belied the careful way he handed the blade back.
"Nah, changing to an entirely different sword when activated is just a myth," Bucky explained, "You have to have one for years before it'll change to match you. Now come on. You and me have a fine pair of dames to show a good time to tonight."
-=*=-
"Fondue's just cheese and bread my friend," Howard explained to Steve as the walked into his workshop.
"Really? I didn't think-"
"Nor should you pal. The moment you think you know what's going on in a woman's head is the moment your goose is well and truly cooked. Me, I concentrate on work which at the moment means making sure you and your men don't get killed. And to that end... Follow me."
Walking to the end of a table, Stark continued, "It's probably a good thing they never activated a blank for you when they shipped you off with the showgirls."
Steve tried not to be nervous as he realised Stark was leading him to get his soulblade.
When the weapon maker said he was going to forge him a personal Blade Steve had been surprised.
He hadn't been given a blank in training because no one had thought he'd make it. Then, after the serum, when he finally was given one, he was told that it couldn't be activated straight away as the time it was kept during training was needed to acclimatise it to a person. Since he couldn't have it on stage (it didn't go with his costume apparently) the blade ended up lost in a pile of props.
"Honestly," Howard continued, "Considering what your soul wanted to be made into no blank would have fitted you properly anyway."
Steve had tried to ask what his soulblade was going to be before Stark started, only to be told it didn't work like that. Howard had given a long technical explanation when he had measurements and other things done that were apparently part of the prep-work for making the Blade but Steve hadn't been able to follow it. As near as he could figure it was something like staring at a blank page and waiting for inspiration.
Pulling aside a cloth Stark proudly said "I bet you've never seen something like this before."
"It's a shield." Steve said, surprised.
"Don't look at me, it's your soul. Besides, it's not just any shield. Pick it up."
He did, marvelling at how right it felt. He'd never seen a personally forged soulblade before, only the massed produced ones. They were, by definition, masterworks, as so were incredibly expensive. And, while he knew in theory that Blades didn't necessarily have to be blades he had never heard one being a shield.
It was, somehow, perfect.
"And that's not even the best part," Howard said happily, "It's made of vibranium, the rarest metal on earth. It's stronger then steel and a third the weight. It's completely vibration absorbent. You won't just be fighting demons with this. It can stop bullets!"
Peggy walked up in time to hear the last of Howard's little speech. "Are you quite finished Mr. Stark? I'm sure the Captain has some unfinished business."
"What do you think?" Steve smiled somewhat nervously at her.
Peggy picked up a gun from the bench beside her.
Steve hid behind his shield as she fired.
When she finished he carefully peered over the top only vaguely noting that there wasn't a scratch on it.
"Yes," Peggy said satisfied, "I think it works" She put the gun down and walked past.
Howard and Steve just stared as she walked out of the workshop.
Incredible Hulk
General Thunderbolt Ross frowned as he signed off the last of the paperwork from the latest mess with Banner. Another man had to be honourably discharged once he was out of the hospital. He didn't know how Banner had managed to turn himself into some kind of demon that couldn't be killed by a soulblade but that was obviously what he must have done. He'd lost too many soldiers when they instinctively attacked with their soulblades only to for them to be shattered by the monster. At least this time the solider hadn't died from shock. He'll never work in the army again, though. No solider could be expected to go into a battle defenceless against the demons attracted to the violence.
Ross stood up to find Blonsky. It might not be possible to make stronger soulblades but he may have another idea.
Iron Man
Yinsen watched impressed as his fellow captive worked long into the night.
When Stark had been brought in it had taken all his skill to save the man from the shrapnel making their way to his heart. And then again from shock when the terrorists snapped his soulblade in a vice while recording it for ransom.
He wished he was more surprised that had happened.
He had hoped that as stark wasn't a solider he would have been spared that particular method of torture. But, as was the trend with the rich, it seemed he had one for fashion purposes.
It was the big weakness of soulblades. Although none but their welder could bring them forth when they were sheathed, unless you were trained otherwise, it was instinctive to reach for the closest weapon to hand when your life was threatened. And this situation was most definitely life threatening. It was an unfortunate fact that while a soulblade cannot be damaged by demons, they were forged by mortal hands and so could be destroyed by mortal means.
But the Ten Rings miscalculated this time. Instead of breaking as they had obviously hoped, Stark just seemed more determined. He had correctly guessed that they had no intention of releasing him even if he cooperated and had launched himself into activity. First with Yinsen's help making a device to replace the car battery. And now re-forging his soulblade. It was like something from a legend.
It was definitely a re-forging, not just a repair. The ornate fencing blade that had been snapped in two was now thicker. The golden decoration bent & flattened to form a new handle. Although still obviously unfinished, the soulblade was straight and strong with no evidence of previous damage. It appeared that, like his farther, Tony Stark was not just a weapons-maker. He was a Master Smith.
Thor
Agent Coulson watched from a distance as the despondent blond man was hustled into a holding cell. Agent Barton ambled over, still dripping from the rain and holding his bow. Coulson didn't even bother to raise an eyebrow at that. He knew when he gave the order for someone to be up high with a gun if Hawkeye answered he'd undoubtedly pick his preferred weapon.
Barton nodded to the direction of his former target, now out of sight in the cell. "I never heard of someone not being able to wield their own soulblade before."
"You think that's what happened here?" Coulson asked, mildly.
"Must be," Clint nodded "You gotta admit, it's all very sword-in-the-stone like."
Coulson nodded.
Everyone knew the legend of Arthur and the sword forged to hold the soul of a king. Not to be confused with Excalibur, the sword given to him by the Lady of the Lake to fight his mortal foes. After all, soulblades can't cut living creatures.
"Well," Coulson began to head to the cell, "time to have a chat with our would be Arthur."
Avengers Assemble
Coulson only had a fraction of a second to register Thor's shock before the blade of Loki's staff reached his back. Far too small a time to consciously register the danger let alone act. But not too small a time for him to instinctively reach for his soulblade.
Too short a time to draw it but fast enough to make it appear from where it usually lay, invisible and intangible, sheathed on his back. Directly in the path of the spear.
His two handed great sword was enough to deflect the blow somewhat so it did not strike his heart but it was never designed to withstand the force of an angry Asgardian.
The shock of it breaking was almost more then the pain of the spear tearing a hole in his side.
Phil slumped to the ground as Loki went over to gloat at his brother.
That was a mistake, he wasn't dead yet.
After all, he still hadn't found out what the gun did.
Avengers: Hawkeye
Clint pushed all the pain, exhaustion, guilt and confusion from the last few days aside and concentrated on hitting the aliens invading New York and calling out positions to the team he found himself on.
Spotting a demon drawn to the battle he pulled back on his bow, his soulblade appearing before he finished the draw. The arrow sped towards its target, hitting it right in the eye. The demon dissipated, destroyed, and the arrow appeared back in Hawkeye's hand momentarily before he dismissed it, pulling a mundane piece of ammunition for the next target, an alien heading toward a group of cops evacuating the area. There weren't many demons around yet but Clint knew that'd change soon. At least they seemed to be treating the aliens as prey as well.
One of Clint's secrets was that his soulblade hadn't always been an arrow. He had been trained to use a sword as well as the bow when he was younger. Until his teacher had beaten him, broke it and left him for dead when he had refused to follow him into a life of crime.
Clint was pretty sure the only thing that saved him was that he was still young enough at the time to bounce back from the shock.
He had tried to find someone who could fix the Blade but all he could find was a lot of empty promises for money he didn't have.
But he learned.
He'd never be a Smith but he knew how to make arrows. So, on a hunch, he tried and experiment. And it worked.
The tip of his old blade was now the point of his Arrow and he'd never have to worry about being unarmed again.
Avengers: Black Widow
Natasha breathed a sigh of relief as the Hulk caught Stark. The aliens all collapsed when the portal closed. It was over.
She immediately cursed herself for thinking that as she saw demons climbing the tower. Having gone unnoticed in the commotion until now a swarm was converging on the centre of the catastrophe. Crawling, slithering and flying, they were all heading towards her.
How very unfortunate. For them.
She had been trained by the Red Room, an organisation that wanted perfect spies and assassins. They forged children into weapons but they also forged weapons for children.
The Black Widow drew her soulblades.
The Red Room had ignored the taboo of forging only one blade. While twin blades were not unheard of they were always forged at the same time, from the same piece of metal. But the Red Room didn't care if their charges soul was split too many times. They thought it would just make them more pliable.
Natasha had eight blades. Long and thin, double edged and double pointed. They had been originally forged without handles. If they were ordinary weapons they would have been unusable. But these were masterworks, forged solely for her.
All master-worked personal weapons had special properties. The most famous recent example was Captain America's shield, that was unbreakable and always returned to his hand no matter where he threw it. Another example was Stark's re-forged weapon, that fired its own repulsor blasts, ones that harmed demons when his normal ones couldn't scratch them.
But hers were different.
Eight sharp blades drew themselves from her back. Hovering in midair around her, they stared to spin. With them swirling around almost too fast for the eye to follow, Natasha walked towards the incoming swam.
It had been a long day and she was tired.
The demon horde didn't last ten minutes.