#‘oh!!! yes i am aware that you are hellbent on killing us however i do believe we can come to an agreement’

[frosteee-variation]

Looking at some doodles I did a month or so ago — I should probably make a full reference for Creature at some point, I think. Not much has changed design-wise, but it’s got a cool pair of sunglasses now, so that’s a plus? Also it may or may not have used itself as a prison for a demonic(?) entity so that might have some. lasting effects. it’d be cool if so ngl I might just do that

One of the perks of just being a funky lil thing, I suppose!

[calpalirwin]

(Don’t) Leave Me in the Dark

Summary: When Bucky gets turned into the Winter Soldier, Steve has a plan for dragging his old friend out of the darkness: you.

A/N: Heavily inspired by Repeat by Luke Hemmings.

Word Count: 8.1k

And away, and away we go!

__

1943

Y/N’s eyes watched the crowd, flickering from person to person. Studying. Observing. And yes, maybe even ogling as her gaze locked in on two men in particular: a tall, strapping brunette in a sergeant’s uniform, and a scrawny blonde man with a stance designed to make him appear bigger than he actually was.

“You can do more than just look, you know,” a voice said in her ear, making her jump slightly.

“Stark,” she scolded with a soft giggle. “I’m working.”

“So am I. It’s called mixing business with pleasure. And there’s no harm in it. Especially when they look as good as that one.” Howard shot the woman a wink, jerking with his chin towards the soldier she couldn’t stop staring at. “A sergeant, too? A girl’s got taste.”

“I was actually looking at his friend,” Y/N half-lied.

Howard snorted, not believing the lie for a single second. “Oh really?”

She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, really. He’d be a perfect candidate.”

“You SHIELD agents are all the same. Always plotting and planning, and never enjoying,” he told you with a roll of his eyes. “Gentlemen!” he then called out loudly, grabbing the mens’ attention, the blonde pointing a finger at himself. “Yes, you two right there! Come take a gander at all that Stark Industries has to offer.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide as the men approached, and she could have killed Howard right then and there, but the men were growing closer, and oh! the brunette’s eyes were such a pretty shade of blue as they drank her in. “And would you be talking about the newest technology for the war, or the dames, Stark?” the soldier asked with a laugh, his stare still fixated on Y/N.

“She’s not one of mine,” Howard told him. “Which is unfortunate because Y/N is as smart as they come. Which is why SHIELD got their hands on her before I did.”

“SHIELD,” the blonde said. “That’s the government agency, yes?”

“That would be us, yes,” Y/N answered. “Interested in joining? We could use someone like you.”

“Really?” he questioned at the same time his friend let out a bark of laughter.

“Yes, really,” she said, ignoring the brunette. “If contributing to the war effort is something that’s important to you.”

“Oh, it’s important to both of us,” the sergeant told her.

“Yes, and it would seem that one of you has already managed to make their contribution, soldier,” she said, eyeing his uniform purposefully.

“It’s Sergeant,” he corrected. “Sergeant James B. Barnes, if you want specifics. But if you’re lucky, I’ll let you call me ‘Bucky’.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” she provided in turn, shifting her attention back to blonde. “And you?”

“Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“Give SHIELD a call, Rogers. I promise it’ll be worth your while. Mention Operation Rebirth when you do.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you,” Steve said with a smile.

“Of course. Gentlemen,” Y/N gave a small nod to both Howard and Steve before turning to Bucky. “Bucky. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that, she walked off leaving Steve happy with his hopeful opportunity to at long-last join the war effort, Howard shaking his head at her antics, and Bucky completely in over his head about her.

~~~

1944

Y/N frowned as she looked over the debriefing. “So not only does Hydra have it’s hands on the same serum we created, they also are using it on POWs? Essentially turning our own men against us? Is that what you’re telling me?” she demanded, her voice sharp as she waved the folder in her hand.

“Yes, ma’am,” the agent told her, nodding their head, eyes wide with fear.

She slammed the folder on her desk. “So who’s going in to get our men back?”

“N-no one ma’am. General said it’s too dangerous. Waste of resources.”

“Well you tell the General that he c-”

Her threat got cut off by a new voice. “What do you mean the 107th got captured a month ago?! Do we know where their location is?!”

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t quite place it. The voice that answered the man, however, she could place. “Yes, we have their location. However-” Peggy Carter spoke.

“However what?” the man asked. “You’re not staging a rescue mission? Those are our men!”

“You want me to tell the General what, ma’am?” the agent still standing in front of Y/N piped up awkwardly.

Y/N waved her hand at the agent in frustration. “You’re dismissed,” she told them before shouldering past and out the tent.

Sure enough, just outside the tent stood Peggy Carter and a tall blonde man, a wooden shield hanging off his arm. “Ah, Y/N,” Peggy smiled. “Might I introduce you to Captain America?”

Y/N looked up at the man, him both familiar and a stranger. He regarded her with the same look of confused recognition. “Steve,” he said, extending his hand to her. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

“Steve, Steve Rogers, Steve?” she asked, shaking his hand. “Scrawny kid from Brooklyn, Steve?”

Steve gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “The one and only.”

Y/N shot Peggy an excited look. “The serum worked?!”

“I knew your name seemed familiar!” Steve beamed, now understanding how he felt that he knew the woman. “Thanks for the recommendation.”

“I’m glad it worked!” Then, the excitement vanished as she remembered the folder in her hand. If their serum worked, then that meant… “Oh, no… Peggy, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow in silent question, her eyes flickering to the folder. “Oh, yes. I wanted to talk to you about that as well.”

“They have our men. Why isn’t the General sending in a rescue squad?”

“Which men?” Steve asked.

Y/N opened the folder, running her finger down the document, rattling off a couple of squadrons, “... 107th Infantry Regiment…”

“That’s Bucky!” Steve interrupted. “That’s Bucky’s unit.”

“Your friend,” Y/N recalled. “The brunette who’s too good-looking for his own good?”

Steve spared a wry smile, “That’d be him.”

“Why isn’t the General sending in a rescue squad?” Y/N asked Peggy again. “Do you know how dangerous this could be? How much it compromises all the work we’ve done?”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m aware. The General however-”

“The General doesn’t know his left from his right!”

Peggy sighed. “He can’t spare the men.”

“So what do we do then?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’re getting a team of SHIELD agents to rescue the POWs at a known Hydra base nearby.”

“This nearby Hydra base that contains the 107th?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” both women told him.

“I want in.”

It took two weeks for the plan to come to fruition. Armed with volunteers hellbent on revenge and a handful of SHIELD agents, Steve led the group in infiltrating the Hydra base. It was a mission with two prongs. Prong one involved Steve and the soldiers locating the POWs and getting them out. Prong two involved the SHIELD agents destroying any and all progress Hydra was making with the serum.

Y/N and Peggy waited back at a basecamp they had set up closer to the Hydra base without drawing unwanted attention. “Oh, would you stop with the incessant tapping of your foot?” Peggy asked in an exasperated tone. “They’ll be back when they get back.”

“There’s too many unknowns,” Y/N answered, moving to picking at her fingernails.

“Mmm, and these nerves would have nothing to do about seeing Steve’s friend again, would they?”

“No…?” Y/N said slowly. “What does Steve’s friend have to do with any of this? Where’d you get that idea from?”

“Steve. He mentioned the story of you meeting the both of them in New York. Something about an unknown potential between you and the sergeant.”

“Mmm, and we’re growing close to Steve, are we?” Y/N returned the teasing.

“Steve and I are merely work acquaintances. Much like how you and I are.”

“Tell that to Steve. He fancies you something awful.”

While Peggy and Y/N continued to tease each other about Bucky and Steve, the men were on their way back, having a similar conversation of their own.

“So… how did you become this?” Bucky had to ask, sweeping a hand up and down Steve. “A year apart, and you go and have a growth spurt on me?”

Steve chuckled. “Uh, do you remember Y/N from New York? The woman with Stark who told me to talk to SHIELD?”

“You mean the bombshell dame that I should have asked to dance? Oh, yeah,” Bucky smiled dreamily.

Steve chuckled more. “Well, her telling me to go to SHIELD turned me into this. An experimental serum to create the perfect soldier. And I guess it worked, because here I am.”

“Mmm, is there where you crush my spirits and say that you took Y/N dancing? I mean, surely if you caught her eye when you were the scrawny kid from Brooklyn…”

“No,” Steve said with a shake of his head. “Plus, I think she was only interested in me because of the experiment. And my eyes are on someone else. A different SHIELD agent.”

“Oh?” Bucky grinned, nudging his shoulder into Steve. “Look at you! A little serum, and suddenly you’re a ladies man. You’re all grown up.”

“And you’re still the same, I see,” Steve laughed.

Bucky laughed along with Steve, but the laugh didn’t hold the same trace of humor. “Yeah… So, tell me about this new lady.”

“Peggy. She’s wonderful. Smart. Fierce. And she’s here. Y/N is too.”

“Y/N’s here?”

“Yeah. A lot of SHIELD agents are. I was a little surprised to see her myself. I mean, I only saw her that night in New York, same as you. I almost didn’t recognize her at first. I’m shocked she remembered me at all.”

“She’s here?” Bucky repeated.

“Yes,” Steve nodded. Then, “And yes, she still looks like she’s available. So if you wanted to ask her for that dance, now would be your chance.”

Bucky gave a shy scoff of a laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I dunno about all that.”

“I thought you wanted to dance with her?”

“I do! But… Look, there’s a reason I didn’t ask her in New York. I was leaving for here. I didn’t want to risk either of us getting attached, and then something happening to me. I mean, imagine if I had asked her to dance, and we started exchanging letters, and then she stopped hearing from me. I couldn’t do that to her.”

“So, you were going to hope that when the war’s over you’d be able to find her?”

“Yeah. A girl like that deserves stability, Steve. No matter how badly I might wanna share a dance or two with her.”

“Well, you can tell her all that yourself if you like,” Steve told him, nodding his head in the direction of a camp coming into view. “Cause she’s here, here.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide. “No! And you don’t tell her either, you understand me?! I’ll tell her when I’m ready. When the time’s right.”

Steve gave a roll of his eyes. “Whatever you say, Buck.”

“Steve?” Peggy asked, rising from her seat, hearing the voices as they drew closer. “Y/N, I think they’re here.”

With a sigh, Y/N also stood up, following Peggy out of the tent, watching a large group of men walking up, Bucky and Steve in the front. “You did it,” Peggy told Steve proudly.

“Of course,” Steve smiled. “Peggy, this is Buck. Buck, this is Agent Carter. And I think you’ll remember Y/N.”

“Hi,” Bucky said, his voice growing shy as he offered both women a small wave. “Good to see you again, Y/N.”

“Likewise,” she replied, taking note of his appearance: battered uniform, a slightly haunted look still lingering in his crystal blue eyes, scruff decorating his jaw, disheveled hair, a dirty face, and a scratch just under one of his eyes. A seemingly out of place scratch that set alarms off in her head. “Would you mind coming with me?”

“Me? With you?” he asked, waving a finger between them.

“That’s what I said, yes. We need to get you examined.”

His eyes widened for the briefest second as he swallowed thickly. “You can just point me in the direction of the nurses’ tent. You don’t-” he stammered.

“Our nurses are going to be swamped checking over all the other men,” she explained. “And if you’re worried about my own nursing skills, I assure you that I’ve picked up on a few things during my time here.”

“It’s true,” Peggy confirmed. “Y/N actually might be better than some of the nurses on our staff.”

“Uh…” Bucky continued to stammer, uncertain of what to do.

Y/N started walking off, pausing when she didn’t hear the sound of boots following after. “Bucky?” she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder. “You coming?”

He gave a shake of his head to clear it. “Yeah. Yeah.”

Silently they trekked through the camp, past the nurses station crowded with soldiers waiting to be seen, and into a smaller tent that held a cot made up neatly, and a desk with a chair behind it. “Have a seat,” Y/N directed, motioning towards the cot. As Bucky took a seat, Y/N pulled a first aid kit out of a desk drawer, before dragging the chair over to the cot. “I’m aware that I’m about to ask you some difficult questions, but I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?” she asked as she sat down, opening the kit in her lap.

“I think so?”

“How’d you get this scratch?” She wiped an alcoholic pad across it, creating a patch of clean skin on his otherwise dirty face.

He shrugged. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Lying to me already?”

“I’m not lying!” he snapped.

“Then tell me how you got the scratch. And don’t tell me a guard hit you because we know that’s a lie. That’s an abrasion mark. Like you scraped it against something. So how’d you manage to scrap your face against something?”

His mouth pinched, the look in his eyes growing more haunted. “I don’t wanna talk about it…”he muttered.

“It wasn’t normal torture, was it? Did they experiment on you?”

“I said I don’t wanna talk about it!” he snapped again, his tone carrying a hard edge.

“I know you don’t want to. But I need you to. It’s important that you tell me everything that happened,” she said, keeping her voice calm and controlled.

He screwed his eyes shut tight, clenching his hands into fists. “They injected us with something…” the words started to spill in a rapid rush. “It made some of us stronger… And others… It was painful… Like facing a firing squad would hurt less. The screaming… And we couldn’t see what was happening. They’d strap us in these chairs like at the dentist, and then they’d put these things over our faces. And then there was more pain. Like getting electrocuted. They’d do it for days. You never knew which day was yours. The screams never stopped. God, I just want it to stop!” His eyes snapped open, his chest heaving, body trembling, tear tracks down his cheeks. “What did they do to me?” he asked, his voice a broken, hoarse whisper.

“They turned you into a super soldier.”

“A what?”

“It’s an experimental procedure. It’s what we did to Steve. It’s designed to make you faster and stronger. Harder to kill.”

“You tortured Steve?!” The hard edge was back in his tone, almost murderous.

“No! Steve only got the serum. And it was painful, the way it changes your body on a molecular level. But we don’t brainwash our soldiers with electrocution afterwards.”

“So why did they electrocute us? If it's the same experiment?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. But I’d say it has something to do with stripping away your humanity. Turning you into an obedient killing machine. Nobody wants a soldier who questions orders, right? Hydra… they somehow learned about Operation Rebirth, which is our program for creating super soldiers. We wanted it to give ourselves a competitive edge in the war, and cut down on our own casualties. But Hydra just wants the competitive edge, no matter the cost to human life. They want the perfect, undefeatable army.”

“But why us? Why me?”

“Why not you and other POWs? Better for them to risk enemy lives than the lives of their own soldiers.”

“It’s not right…”

“Nobody said it was. And you have my deepest condolences for what you and your men have suffered through.”

“I don’t want your condolences!”

“What do you want?”

“To murder every one of those bastards for what they did to me.”

“Then it looks like we’re on the same side.”

~~~

1945

It took another year for the team to gather more intel on Hydra’s plans for the super soldier serum. A year of small missions led by Steve and Bucky with their own small squadron of soldiers. A year of Peggy and Y/N pouring over debriefings, fitting together as many pieces of the puzzle as they could. A year of Y/N listening to Bucky wake up in the middle of the night, struggling to catch his breath as his mind forced him to relive his days in captivity. A year of feeling the tug to leave her tent for his, to provide any sort of comfort for him she could, but ultimately always deciding against it. Instead, she’d seek him out in the mornings, offering him a small smile as if to offer congratulations for surviving another night with his demons.

Bucky grew to live for those morning smiles. Lived for the way that Y/N could go from demanding SHIELD agent who could strike fear in the hearts of war-hardened soldiers, to a woman with a soft laugh he swore was only reserved for conversations with him. He reveled in the fact that she grew comfortable enough around him to feel like she could drop the hard facade she gave everyone else. As if around him, she didn’t feel like she had to prove herself like she did around the other men.

“So defeat Red Skull. Should be a simple enough mission, eh, Buck?” Steve joked during a debriefing meeting.

“Piece of cake,” Bucky answered, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder.

“No,” Y/N cut in. “The mission is to defeat Hydra. Defeating Red Skull is just a piece of it. An important piece. But a piece all the same.”

“But kill the head of the organization, and the rest will fall,” Bucky told her.

She rolled her eyes. “You know what Hydra is, right? The monster from Greek myths?”

“Yeah, it’s the snake with multiple heads. Everyone knows what a Hydra is.”

She rolled her eyes more. “So you know that it’s not as simple as just killing the head of the organization? After all, kill the head, two more grow in its place. Hence, Red Skull only being a piece. You have to take down the whole monster, not just its head.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said, waving his hand dismissively. “So, we go in to defeat Hydra once and for all. When do we leave?”

“Captain Rogers, you, and your team leave at dawn,” Peggy told him, a finger pointing at a map. “You catch the train here. It’ll lead you straight to Hydra.”

“That’s a mountain…” Bucky pointed out the obvious flaw in the plan.

“How else are you supposed to catch a Hydra train? Buy a ticket?” Y/N asked him, tone heavy with rhetoric. 

Bucky looked at Steve with raised eyebrows. “So we’re gonna catch a train on a mountainside, huh?”

“Easy, right?”

“Piece of cake. Anything else?”

“No, that’s all,” Peggy told them.

“Oh!” Y/N said, suddenly thinking of something. “Actually yes. One last thing.” She got up to grab a suitcase, setting it down on the table and opening it, revealing small devices inside.

“What are those?” the other three asked her.

“Trackers. In the event anything happens. Make sure each of your men is equipped with one. You just slide it on like a bracelet and hit this button right here,” she demonstrated. “And then I can see your location here,” she pointed at a monitor screen that showed a green light blinking steadily. She turned off the tracker and the blinking went dead on the monitor. “The Navy’s been a great help with their radar technology. And Stark of course.”

“Of course,” the other three said.

Y/N snapped the suitcase shut, handing it to Steve. “Don’t forget.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now go get your rest. It’s gonna be a long mission.”

In the morning, Peggy and Y/N were up to see the men off. While Peggy and Steve had their own hushed farewell, Y/N stood facing Bucky, her arms crossed over her chest. “Be safe, James.”

“Oh, I’m ‘James’ now?” he asked with a bemused smile. “What did I do to warrant that?”

“Bucky!” she said, her cheeks flushing. “I meant to say ‘Bucky’.”

His eyes flickered around, noting how close the other men were. “Whatever you say, Agent Y/L/N.”

“Sergeant Barnes,” she said, her nostrils flaring.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I don’t like that one. Not from you. ‘James’ I can make an exception for. But I still prefer when you call me ‘Bucky’.”

“Just… be safe, okay?”

He nodded, giving her a mock salute and a cheeky wink.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, watching as Bucky joined Steve, and the team rolled out. Once they were out of her line of sight, she turned into her tent, pulling out the monitor screen for the trackers, watching the green lights come blinking to life.

While her energy could have been better spent on other tasks, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything besides watch the steady blinking, a calm reassurance that all the men were exactly where they were supposed to be.

As expected, as the mission went forward, some of the trackers didn’t move forward with the rest. Each one felt like someone had stabbed Y/N with a knife, and her only hope was that it wasn’t Bucky or Steve.

One tracker however caught her attention. It stayed behind while the others went forward. But then, it stopped blinking.

Y/N quickly jotted down the coordinates of where it had been blinking, drawing a small star next to it. She also jotted down the other coordinates of the trackers that stayed behind. But the one that went dark made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She didn’t like that it was the only one that stopped blinking.

Hours ticked by. More coordinates were jotted down. Then, a cluster of the trackers stayed together while one continued onward, and her heart dropped to her stomach, knowing that nothing about that could be good.

At that moment, Peggy came barging into her tent, radio in hand. “Steve, where are you?”

“All I see is ocean,” came the garbled radio response. “This plane’s going down. Let’s get a raincheck on that date?”

Peggy’s eyes looked at Y/N frantically, and the other woman pointed a finger at the monitor, tracking who she assumed to be Steve, as it was the only light still moving on the screen. “We have your coordinates. We’re sending someone to get you. Stay put,” Peggy told Steve.

“It’s hard to stay put when I’m crashing.”

Static crackled through the radio. “Steve?” Peggy asked. “Steve, do you copy? Y/N, where is he?!”

“There, he’s there!” Y/N told the other woman, following the blinking light with her finger. “Have the Navy pick him up.”

Peggy watched the monitor over Y/N’s shoulder while she called into the radio for someone to send Steve’s location to the Navy. “And which are these?” she asked, pointing at the cluster of blinking lights.

“That’s the Hydra base. So we need to send someone to go get the survivors.”

“Yes, and these?” Peggy’s finger moved to the spattering of random locations of blinking lights.

“Bodies to pick up. Peggy, was Bucky with him?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“One of the lights. It dropped off in the mountains. But then the tracker went dead. It’s the only one that went dead.”

“And what does that mean? The tracker broke?”

“Or someone broke it. None of the others went dead. The tracker stayed blinking in the same spot, but it stayed on the map. All but that one. Something about it feels off to me.”

“We’ll figure it out after we get the team back.”

It was a long, and tense wait for Steve and the survivors of the team to make it back, Y/N scanning around for Bucky. “Where is he?” she demanded, pulling Steve aside.

“Hello to you too, Y/N.”

“Hi, Steve. Glad you’re back after your nice swim in the Atlantic. Where’s Bucky?”

Steve swallowed, lowering his head.

“Steve…” she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. “Where is he?”

“Let’s go talk,” was all he said, ushering her into a tent where they’d have more privacy.

“Just tell me if he’s dead or not,” she said, her voice cracking as she crossed her arms.

“I don’t know…”

“How do you not know?”

“I mean, I don’t know. On the train. It was a set up. Hydra was waiting for us. There was a fight. I tried to grab him, but he slipped.”

The blinking light that went dead in the mountains. “Steve…”

“I tried, Y/N. I tried to keep him safe. But he just slipped. And I dunno how anyone could survive a fall from that high up. You’d have to be super human or something.”

“The serum.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The serum!” she said again, hope rising in her voice. “Steve, the serum!”

“What about it?”

“Bucky has it! It’s in him like it’s in you!”

“He’s a super soldier?!”

“Yes! It happened when his unit got captured last year.”

“So he could have survived?!”

“He could have survived!”

“Well, where’s the tracker?! Let’s go!”

Y/N frowned.

“What? What is it?”

“The only tracker that stayed in the mountains went dead two minutes after your team went forward. It’s the only tracker that went off the radar.”

“We were pretty high up. Is it possible it just broke?”

“Let’s hope so.”

Two hours later, Peggy, Steve, and Y/N trekked through the snow in search of any signs of Bucky. Thousands of feet up in the air, Y/N could make out the train track. “I don’t get it,” she grumbled, her boot kicking at a patch of snow. “The coordinates are right here. So where is he?”

“Uh… Y/N?” Steve said, holding up two pieces of a black bracelet.

“My tracker…” she mourned the two broken pieces.

“But look at how it’s broken. It’s like someone snapped it in half. Buck wouldn’t have done that.”

“But whoever took him would,” Y/N said.

“But who took him?”

“I’ll give you two guesses.”

“But Hydra’s done. We won,” Steve said, not understanding.

Y/N shook her head, kicking at more snow as tears started to slide down her cheeks. “You said you were ambushed right? That they knew you were coming?”

“Yeah…”

“Steve, Hydra is more than just the Nazis. It’s everyone that opposes SHIELD. How many enemies besides the Nazis does America have?”

“So Buck could be anywhere?”

“Yes, and once news breaks of your mission, and with the war itself starting to end, any of the remaining Hydra heads are going to lay low.”

“And we can’t find Buck until we find Hydra. If he survives.”

“He’s a super soldier. If he managed to survive that fall, I’m sure Hydra will want to keep him alive as long as they can. Turn him into an asset they can exploit. Provided he doesn’t cause them any trouble.”

“Oh, it’s Buck. All he does is cause trouble,” Steve chuckled humorlessly before sighing. “I don’t know which reality I wanna live in. One where he’s dead. Or one where he's missing, and I don’t know how or when I’ll find him, or what he’ll be when I do.”

“I know,” she nodded, more tears falling down her face. “But at least when I believe he’s alive, there’s hope. And I need that hope, Steve.”

Steve pulled her in for a tight hug. Steve wanted to give her more reassurance, to tell her the truth about how Bucky felt about her, but he decided against it, understanding finally why Bucky had never said anything himself. He couldn’t bear the idea of breaking her heart more than it was already breaking. Likewise, Y/N wanted to give Steve his own reassurance. For him to know how much her heart was breaking for him because she knew how much Bucky meant to him, because he had meant just as much to her. But instead, she sniffled into Steve’s chest, his own tears dropping into her hair while he whispered, “We’ll find him. Somehow. We’ll find him,” on a loop as he held her to him, both of them mourning their friend.

~~~

1953

“Y/N!” Steve said loudly as he burst into the woman’s office, a wide grin on the captain’s face. “You’re gonna love me.”

“I think your wife might have a problem with that,” she teased, barely looking up from her work to acknowledge her friend.

He placed a folder down on her desk. “Just look at this, will you?”

She opened the folder, giving it a look through. “Hydra intel? Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”

“Yep. They’re still staying low. Taking advantage of civil uprisings to eliminate threats to their cause.”

“Well, that’s certainly one way to go about being undetected. Where do we come in?”

“We’re the next threat. Or at least, Washington D.C. is. You in?”

“Who’s the team?”

“Right now? Just me.”

“Rogers…”

He raised his hands. “I know it sounds bad. But, a lot of people aren’t willing to believe Hydra’s behind the attacks. So it’s not an official mission we have any clearance on.”

Y/N waved the folder. “So this isn’t an official report? What is this then?”

“My own personal research,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“Rogers…”

“Look, I can’t explain it. I just have a feeling that I’m right.”

“So you want my help staking out the meeting at Capitol Hill next week on the feeling that Hydra might be plotting something?”

“Yes. You in?”

“You better not be wrong.”

A week later, Steve and Y/N stood watch, both of them silently hoping he was wrong, but also hoping he was right. For the first half hour, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The lull into the false sense of security before the sound of a bomb went off, sending everyone into panic mode.

Y/N crouched down, eyes scanning around for anything that didn’t fit the pattern of how a terrified citizen would act. “You see anything?” she spoke into her earpiece.

“There!” Steve’s voice shouted in her ear. “Long hair. Mask. Metal arm. Gun,” he rattled off the details.

“Location?!”

“Headed your way. Run!”

Y/N took off, eyes on the lookout for whoever Steve had described. “Run! Move!” she shouted as she pushed people aside. Gunfire rang out, and she felt a sharp white-hot pain in her chest as she took cover behind a car, her heartbeat drumming loudly in her ears. Applying pressure to the wound, she looked around for the shooter, hoping Steve was on his way to her.

She turned her head to the sound of a gun cocking, eyes going wide with fear as she spotted the person Steve had described, gun pointed her way.

She held her breath as the man took aim, then changed his mind as Steve came charging at him. With his metal arm, he threw a punch at Steve, who quickly threw up his shield to block it, the sound of metal hitting metal creating a loud clanking sound. Quickly, the man pushed the shield aside, kicking Steve in the chest, the action causing both men to fall backwards.

Y/N watched from her vantage point as the shooter pulled up his gun, shooting a rapid succession at Steve who curled up behind his shield, the bullets ricocheting off. Steve took advantage of the man pausing to reload to draw in closer. The shooter got in more shots, before Steve roundhouse kicked the gun free. Not missing a beat, the shooter pulled out another gun, firing off more shots that got deflected by the shield.

In another brief pause, Steve took a swing that the shooter dodged. Steve immediately came up swinging with the shield, which the shooter grabbed easily, both men trying to punch each other around it. Annoyed, the shooter grabbed onto the shield with his other hand, giving a sharp twist, flipping both Steve and the shield, leaving Steve defenseless. Y/N gasped, knowing she needed to get moving and help. “C’mon, c’mon,” she hissed, pressing her palm firmer into her wound, wishing she had a way to hold her shirt in place as a makeshift bandage.

Not caring, Steve raised his fists, both of them going back to exchanging blows until the metal arm connected solidly into his chest, knocking him backwards. Steve quickly rolled back to his feet before charging at the masked man again, who launched the shield. Steve twisted out of the way, the shield embedding itself into a car right behind him. Steve kept running, as his opponent freed a knife from his side, slashing at Steve’s punches. One of Steve’s punches got the man straight in the jaw. As the man grunted from the impact, Steve jumped to deliver a kick to the chest, knocking the assailant backwards. Wasting no time, Steve went in for another kick, his foot connecting again.

The blows however, did little to stop the other man as he came back at Steve. He threw a punch with the nonmetal arm that Steve grabbed onto and flipped the man onto his back. But in a swift blur, the man got up, the metal hand gripping tightly around Steve’s throat before throwing him.

Steve fell to the ground, gasping for air as the man kept coming. A punch that Steve narrowly missed shattered the asphalt. Somehow Steve got to his feet as his attacker pulled out another knife. Punches and knife slashes were deflected, as Steve lured the man closer to free his shield that was still lodged in the car.

Freeing the shield, Steve brought it in between where metal met flesh at the man’s shoulder, trying to cut the metal arm loose. When that didn’t work, Steve flipped the man in a backwards somersault, his mask clattering to the ground.

Everything froze for a terrible second, Steve’s chest heaving with exertion as the shooter rose to his feet, turning to face Steve. The captain’s eyebrows pulled together in stunned confusion, recognizing his opponent instantly. “Bucky?” he whispered, not sure if he wanted to believe what he was seeing.

Y/N decided it was now or never to provide Steve with much needed backup. Without being able to take pressure off her wound, she decided her only option was to somehow kick Bucky from behind. But she first had to get up somewhere high enough to land a kick where it would do the most damage. With a grunt and her free hand, she pulled herself up onto the roof of the car she’d been taking cover behind, Bucky right below her.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the man asked, pulling a gun on Steve and taking aim. He was about to pull the trigger when Y/N jumped, kicking Bucky in the back of the head as she came down almost directly on top of him.

Bucky fell forward, rolling to his feet as Y/N landed on hers, preparing for him to turn his attention to her. Instead though, he kept his attention on Steve, scared confusion on his face. He pulled a grenade free, throwing it at Steve, and while both Steve and Y/N crouched to cover themselves with the small explosion, Bucky used the distraction to disappear.

“I knew it,” was all Y/N could say as she winced from the pain.

Steve rushed over to her, eyes full of worry as they took in the gunshot. “We should get that checked out.”

“And figure out how to get our Bucky back. Steve, that was exactly what I feared was going to happen when we didn’t find him.”

“I know. I know.”

“How though? Steve… he was only with Hydra a month before you rescued him last time. And it was bad. I don’t know how much you saw compared to what I did. But it wasn’t good. He had nightmares right up until you guys left for that last mission. A month had that kind of effect on him. Now we’re up against eight years. How do we bring him back from this?”

“What stopped me from becoming that?”

“The fact that we didn’t brainwash you of your humanity.”

“So, all we gotta do is tap into that humanity. I mean, did you see how he stopped once I realized it was him?”

“You mean how he threw a grenade at your head? How he shot me?”

“His humanity is still there, Y/N. We just have to get to it.”

“How?!”

“By using you.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Steve sighed. “I was never supposed to be the one to tell you this. He was. But Bucky liked you from the minute he met you. But he was adamant about not telling you he did until the war was over. Because he couldn’t bear the idea of something happening to him and it breaking your heart. He wanted to make sure he was safe first, able to give you stability in not worrying about him.”

“Well, he’s a fool, because I worried about him and my heart broke anyway.”

“He meant well. But, because of how he felt about you, I think you’re the answer to bringing him back.”

“How though, Steve? He looked right at me, and still tried to shoot me again.”

Steve sighed again. “You might hate me for this suggestion. But kiss him.”

“You want me to kiss the man who just tried to kill us both? Are you insane?!”

“It could work.”

“Like some fairytale? True love’s kiss breaks the spell? Only in this case the spell is eight years of brainwashing him into an obedient assassin?”

“Yeah, basically,” Steve nodded.

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I thought we were friends, and here you are telling me to kiss the assassin who shot me, Rogers! Are you trying to get me killed?!”

“I’m only saying it might be our best bet at getting our Bucky back. But, if you’re not up for it, I understand. It’s a huge risk.”

She narrowed her eyes. “If I die kissing Bucky, I will haunt you for the rest of your days, Rogers,” she threatened.

Steve flashed her a charming smile. “I’ve been reliably informed that dying kissing Buck would be a heavenly way to go.”

It would take awhile to get Operation Fairytale going, as Y/N healed from her gunshot wound and Hydra had the smarts to go back to laying low.

All in all, it took about two months before Steve was bursting back into Y/N’s office with a wide smile. “Find him?” was all she asked.

“Yep,” Steve said, grinning wider. “You ready?”

“Let’s go.”

As they traveled to where Steve claimed he had found Bucky, he reminded her of what she was to do. “Keep your distance. You don’t wanna be on the receiving end of his regular arm, much less his metal one. But you have to get close enough at the same time. Something about using his name will start to draw him out, so use it a lot. Then you can probably get close enough to where he won’t actively want to hurt you.”

She nodded. “But you’ll be close by if your hunch doesn’t work?”

“As close as I can without tipping him off that I’m there, yes.”

“This plan is insane, you know that, right?”

“Why do you think it’s just me and you?”

She sighed, closing her eyes and taking a slow breath to steady herself. “Just don’t let me die, yeah?”

“That’s part of the plan.”

“Love that confidence…”

“Last chance to back out. I can try to tap into his humanity on my own. I already did it once. I just think you’d have a better chance at cracking into him than I do.”

“Just don’t let me die, Steve. Because one way or another we’re gonna get Bucky back. But if I die in the process, I don’t want it to have been for nothing.”

“That’s why keeping you alive is an important part of the plan.”

Both too soon and not soon enough, Y/N found herself face to face with Bucky. Well, face to back. “Bucky,” she called out, her voice soft and soothing. “Bucky, it’s Y/N. It’s me.”

The soldier turned, mask obscuring the lower half of his face, eyes cold blue steel as they regarded her. She silently cursed herself and Steve for forgetting about the mask. Another obstacle to figure a way around. “I don’t know who that is.”

“Yes, you do,” she said, taking a step forward. “You’re Bucky. And I’m Y/N. We know each other.”

“No, we don’t!” his voice rose, hands curling into fists at his sides.

Y/N dropped a hand to her side, ready to grab at her gun if she needed to. “I don’t want to fight you, Bucky. But I will if I have to.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” she taunted, fingers wrapping around the grip of her gun.

With a yell of frustration, Bucky advanced on her. In a swift motion, she freed the gun, firing off a few shots at him, stepping backwards as she did so.

He kept advancing, deflecting some of her shots with his metal arm, but one grazed across his ribs, causing him to hiss as blood splattered.

“I guess that makes us even?” she huffed as he stopped advancing, his fingers staining red as he brushed them against his wound, assessing the damage. “Stop now, and I won’t have to shoot you again.”

She couldn’t see the way his lips pulled aways from his teeth in a snarl, as he pulled a knife. Quickly he advanced, slashing out at her. “Really?!” she yelled angrily as she dodged and jumped backwards, trying to keep out of his arm’s reach. “You’re gonna try to stab me now, too?! James Buchanan Barnes!”

He gave an equally angry yell of his own, slashing at her faster with the knife. As he got within reach of her, she ducked down, sweeping out her leg to try and knock him off his feet. “It’s me, Bucky!” she screamed at him, each word a new attempt at a hit.

Whether it was her words finally getting to him or her taking an offensive position against him, Bucky stopped attacking back, putting all his efforts into blocking her blows. “Bucky!” she kept screaming, swiping at his face to knock off his mask. “You’re Bucky! Remember, damn it!”

“I don’t know who that is!” He grabbed her wrist in his hand before flinging her free, the strength sending her skiddering backwards.

“Yes, you do!” She lunged at him, tackling him to the ground, pinning his arms down with her knees. And knowing she had about a millisecond before he threw her off, she crushed her lips into his, putting as much emotion and power into it as possible.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she braced herself for the impact of getting thrown like a ragdoll. But instead, the hand was pulling her in closer, Bucky’s lips moving to kiss her back. “Y/N,” he breathed against her mouth.

“It’s me. It’s me, Bucky,” she nodded, pulling away with a half laugh/half sob. “It’s me,” she repeated, sitting back on his chest.

“You shot me,” he coughed.

“You shot me first.”

“I didn’t know…” he told her, his breathing becoming erratic with fear and panic. “I didn’t know…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, cupping his face in her hands and brushing at the tears that started to spill. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

“Home,” he nodded as she climbed off of him and onto her feet, reaching a hand down to him. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

After a hesitant, then tearful reunion with Steve, Bucky recounted his time with Hydra as they all sat around Peggy and Steve’s house. Much like how his conversation had gone with Y/N when he recounted his first go at captivity, the words spilled out in a rush, his hands clenched tightly at his sides as he refused to meet anyone’s eye for too long.

“It was like the first time. But worse. As the serum worked with more of us, they had us start fighting each other. The electrocutions… They’d use this list of words to put us in this mindset where our only task is to cause hurt. Like complete mind control. And if we weren’t getting electrocuted, fighting each other, or doing their bidding, we were put in these states of sleep. It’s not an army they’re creating. They’re creating a new breed of assassins.”

“Well, they’re down one super assassin now,” Steve said, relief mixing with the deep concern of what Bucky’s news could mean for the future. “What happened to your arm? Was that them?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. Well… yes, but no. It happened when I was falling. I tried to grab anything to slow my fall, but I was going too fast. And then I was on my back in the snow. And then I wasn’t. And now I’m here.”

“You still wanna murder every last one them?” Y/N asked with a small smile.

Bucky raised his eyes to meet hers: haunted versus home. Slowly he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. So, I guess that makes us on the same side?”

“We were always on the same side, Bucky.”

He looked down at his side that sported a bandage under his shirt. “Plus or minus a few details anyway.” He scanned his eyes around the small house. “You got a spare bedroom here, Steve? Or anywhere I can lay down for a bit? Pretty tired.”

Steve nodded, but it was Y/N who stood up. “C’mon, I’ll show you,” she said.

“Y/N, you can grab him some clothes out of my closet. I think Buck and I are finally the same size.”

Bucky and Steve shared a laugh, as Bucky followed Y/N through the house to a bedroom. Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed as Y/N rummaged around in drawers, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for the man. “Bathroom’s through that door,” she pointed, handing him the clothes.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom to change. “Um, can I ask you something?” he asked her through the door.

“Sure.”

“Would you mind staying with me? I- I don’t want to be alone…”

“Stay with you like sleep in the bed with you?”

“Well you don’t have to sleep if you’re not tired. But yeah. If you don’t mind.” As he pulled the bathroom door open, she could see the traces of fear lingering in his haunted look.

“Yeah, I’ll lay with you.”

“Thanks. And um…” he rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. “C-can the light stay on?”

“Of course, Bucky. Whatever you need.”

“Just you,” he mumbled under his breath, but she heard him anyway, both of their cheeks flushing.

“When you wake up, maybe we can go out for that dance,” she teased as she crawled under the covers with him.

“Only if I can kiss you afterwards.”

“Or you could kiss me now.”

His breath caught as his fingers hooked under her chin, guiding her in for a kiss. “Thank you for not leaving me,” he whispered.

“I could never leave you, Bucky.”

__

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[anartisticexpression]

Mystery Skulls -The Future

Alright, now that I’ve watched “Mystery Skulls Animated -The Future” and am now done screaming into a pillow because I never could have predicted THAT ending in a million years, let me get some initial thoughts down…

*Whenever I listen to “Enemy” I always think how perfectly this fits with not only Arthur and Lewis’s situation but Mystery and Shiromori’s as well so cue a pleased, “Oh!” from me that a snippet of “Enemy” made its way into the beginning of this video. Very nice!

*I’ve completely been expecting for two years that, as soon as doubt crept over Lewis’s skull, that the cave would disappear and Arthur would simply land back in the truck unharmed so that wasn’t a surprise. What WAS a surprise is that, I admit, I had fully convinced myself that the gunshot sound at the end of “Hellbent” was Lance shooting Shiromori so the reveal that it was Lewis all along that was the target really made me dramatically gasp!

*Gunshots obviously don’t affect a ghost… except for the one that went through Lewis’s chest aka his death wound which is one of those details that make you go, “Actually that DOES make a kind of sense. Ghosts WOULD be sensitive in the area that killed them.”

It also shows that Lewis isn’t entirely in control of his actions. Ghosts are beings of pure emotion and it doesn’t take much for him to go right back to irrational anger and rough up Lance which is… not cool, man. He’s going to be sorry later when he can think straight!

*The bit with the changing photograph… At this moment in time, my early thoughts are that with the first photo being only of Lewis and Vivi, it symbolises that Lewis has kept only Vivi in his heart.

Arthur is a green-eyed demon who Lewis must get Vivi away from before it is too late and Mystery is just a dog. He’s irrelevant.

However, when Arthur touches the locket, it reactivates another memory, one in which they were all a solid group and that they were happy. Lewis is clearly shocked to see this new image and when focus is also brought to Lewis’ eye(s) being visible in this photo (I’m going to set aside that they were visible in “Ghost” as well until the photo was redrawn for “Freaking Out” as I think this is pretty much a last minute idea in-between videos) it also serves to remind him of who he used to be. Eyes are a window to the soul after all and I think a small truth just broke through Lewis’ anger there enough to make him drop to his knees and weep black tears. Very effective especially when this is paired with the line, “I’m worried ‘bout the future… and fucking with the past.”

And then of course the truck blows up before they can dwell on this any longer! I love Arthur and Lewis’ dazed, “What just happened?” faces!

*Vivi takes the fact that her dog is actually a fox very well but then again she also has a ghost, a plant lady and her own ancestor connecting with her across the centuries to mentally process as well so that’s understandable.

She’s also a surprisingly effective badass (granted she is getting some help from Mushi) which was brilliantly displayed in the animation, the camera movement, the angles, the special effects… everything on screen! Not bad for someone who has spent most of this series either running from things or being unconscious! A certain Vine though, wouldn’t get out of my head -“Don’t fuck with me! I have the power of God AND anime on my side!!”

*Heh. Shiromori had a manicure in-between videos. ;)

*I really didn’t have any solid ideas as to how the Shiromori problem would be resolved but I still wasn’t expecting that! I actually shrieked out loud and I’m usually so quiet on first viewings! The horror and regret over both her and Mystery’s faces though (those are definitely, -“I didn’t want things to end like this”- tears in Shiro’s eyes) tell me that she doesn’t deserve this. She’s just a plant that let jealousy and a blood-addiction get out of control!

The only thing that gives me hope is that her heart wasn’t actually destroyed; it’s just flown off somewhere across the parking lot. She can still be regrown and start anew!

*The ending. The very definition of a, “Well, I didn’t see THAT one coming!” ending. I guess that confirms a thought that the Green Spirit can only really possess a heart that is in turmoil, one that has its guard down so to speak.

I presume it’s easy for it to grab onto “simple things” such as small animals and severed arms but when it comes to complicated living humans and magical creatures it has to wait for the right circumstances and Mystery’s heart breaking over Shiromori’s fate is just what it was looking for.

Of course there is still the question of why it is doing this. Yes, Mystery is the biggest threat so it’s taking him out of the equation but is its murderous target the whole of Mystery Skulls or just Lewis? The fact that Lewis is adopted and doesn’t know where he came from is really significant to me. It raises the possibility that the Green Spirit killed Lewis as part of a blood vendetta against his birth family that he is not even aware of. I’ll have to wait and see whether the Green Spirit and Lewis’ true backstory is even something that can be told in music video form but I really don’t think it’s causing all this death and chaos simply because it’s bored and doing this would be funny.

*I do notice that Mystery has two plasters on his heart which have to refer to his two missing tails that the Ancestor has to be responsible for. They both appear to grow back though, both as a reaction to Vivi and Shiromori getting really hurt and to the Green Spirit’s possession; it’s not only taking him over but restoring him back to his prime… just with some added decoration (love the collar changing from a ‘?’ to a ‘!?’).

I’m not sure what to think that Vivi’s shade of blue and Shiromori’s white comes pouring out of the plastered areas when they are injured nor of all the liquid seeping out of Mystery’s heart that matches several characters’ colour scheme…  and then his mouth turns green… Possibly it is just meant to represent all the different thoughts and feelings that Mystery is going through right now; all the emotions concerning everyone in his life and the mistakes he’s made with them that the Green Spirit is able to latch on to and corrupt from within.

Possibly when Mystery removed the Green Spirit in the first place, a piece of it remained inside him that the arm can connect with… because I don’t think a zombified arm literally crawled inside Mystery’s wounds and grabbed his heart at the end there!

*For most of the video, I was gasping, shrieking and letting off the occasional distressed whimper… but I really had to clap a hand over my mouth hard to stop myself from screaming with laughter at the end credit scene! Vivi and Arthur just spoke for us all, didn’t they…!?

*Final thoughts: I’ve been really hoping that the song “Magic” will be picked for the last part; it just sounds like a finale song, it speaks to me of happy endings and I have seen posts by Mystery Ben from a few years ago that he would really like to use “Magic” at some point in this story… but with this cliff-hanger, I’m having a hard time picturing the finale going cheerfully right into this peppy tune!

They could of course begin with a sample of a completely different darker song at first and then go into “Magic” but still! I’m not sure now… Wait… a few years ago, an artist named Yuramec posted an animatic of “Magic” on Youtube featuring their own character, Leopold being chased by a demonic spirit (that also has three eyes!) until the spirit is battered down with good magic and turns back into an innocent little ghost girl. Mystery Ben made a comment (Which must be on his Tumblr as I can’t find it on YouTube but I KNOW I’m not making this up!) saying that it was a funny coincidence that this video contains some ideas that he also wanted to implement for MSA but of course, he couldn’t say which ideas due to spoilers… Baring in mind as to what has happened to Mystery and his corruption, is this… is this what Ben was talking about…?

[rayne-storm]

AUgust 5 - Science Fiction

Cooking With Crewmates - Hannigram & Among Us

This is some violent self-indulgent garbage, and also by far the longest thing I've written for AUgust so far, and I've had to edit this intro to fit the Tumbl's block limit. Contains violence and gore inherent in the fandoms. Possibly extraordinarily ooc. No beta, we die like men.

William Graham had not always wanted to do space things. In fact, if you had asked him ten years earlier if he would ever want to do anything on a space station, he would have flipped you off and run the other direction. He hated being cramped up. He hated not having control of his immediate situation. He would never describe himself as "works well with others" in any capacity.

Yet there he was.

In a fucking tin can in space. With a horrible murderer loose.

Fuck.

And all he could do was grumble as he went about his day, desperately trying to repair a rapidly failing piece of garbage, trying to avoid air vents and being followed anywhere.

His antisocial tendencies had never come so in handy.

There was one member of the team, however, that seemed determined to undermine his self-imposed Exile. The ship's cook and doctor (everyone tried to do double-duty where they could) Hannibal Lecter seemed hellbent on following him everywhere, and it would have been cute if it weren't so frustrating.

The other man wore bright red, with (of all damn things) a chef's hat on top of his helmet. He stood out, in every way possible. Admittedly, Will's little clip-on dog ears weren't the most subtle of accessories, but at least he was a solid color and could blend into shadows if he so wished. Like a ninja. Not like a fire engine.

But it was sweet, kind of, how insistent the older man was that he be with Will so often. He seemed to get his tasks done quickly, and his cooking really was delicious. It was enough, almost, to make Will forget there was a gruesome murderer on the loose.

Almost.

The first time he saw a dead body was back on Earth. He had, for a time, worked with the FBI's Behavior Analysis Unit. He had a sort of "superpower" to be able to get into people's heads, hyper-empathy they called it. He could still remember that first case. It didn't haunt him like it used to, but it was there, the first in a file-folder in his mind that he kept locked tight until he had space to process the things inside.

The things he had seen on this ship were leagues beyond the worst cases on Earth. These bodies weren't just dismembered, they were ripped apart, like they had encountered some kind of… well, creature. Whatever had done the things he was seeing wasn't human. It simply wasn't possible.

He had to reevaluate a lot of personal beliefs very quickly.

The crew eventually came to the conclusion that whatever was doing this to their members was hiding Among Them. They decided on the moniker of "imposter" for the thing.

Now to figure out who it was.

Will had his suspicions. Of everyone, unfortunately. But suspicion kept him alive on Earth, it would work alright here too. Especially as there were fewer and fewer people left.

Will imagined how it would go, if he were face to face with whatever had been destroying their Crewmates. He never came out alive. Best-case was he would airlock it and shoot it into space. Like they had done to several people already (he had refused to participate).

Curiously, Hannibal had also refused to vote, or participate in the discussion. Will wondered if it had anything to do with the Hippocratic Oath, or just personal morals. The strange thing was that the doctor didn't get nearly as much protest against his refusal to participate in these death sentences as Will did. Something about the man radiated this calm, cool authority that Will guessed people just accepted.

Whatever the case, he supposed it didn't hurt that the man was seemingly always on his side.

"They condemn you because they do not understand," Doctor Lecter had murmured to him one evening as another crewmate was launched into the cold void of space.

"Don't understand what?"

"You feel their pain as if you were the one out there, freezing and choking."

Will looked down, shaking his head. He knew that in the empty vacuum of space, ship walls between them, he couldn't really hear the screams, but he felt his ears ring all the same.

"Who are we to play God?"

"I think God must be laughing at this. He kills all the time, and are we not created in His image?"

Will felt a shudder ripple through him. Whether fear or something else entirely he wasn't certain.

He knew he was in trouble, falling way too hard for this mysterious doctor chef. It was ridiculous, frankly, to have even remotely romantic feelings for a fire-hydrant in a chef's hat, but here he was. He wondered numbly if Hannibal had any sort of reciprocity, feeling something for the little edgelord wolf boy Will was dressed up as.

He didn't have to wonder long.

He was in his private quarters after a long day of doing medical scans and fixing wires (reminding him so much of his former hobby of tying his own fly-fishing lures), and was halfway out of his suit when there was a knock at the door.

He debated putting the bulky gear back on, but chose against it, instead walking to the door and opening the little peephole.

It was… an extremely handsome man, in a tweed suit of all things. Will realized immediately who it was when he saw the gorgeous dish of food the man was carrying.

"Doctor Lecter?"

"Please, just Hannibal. We are friends, are we not?"

Will couldn't help but smile. Yes, somehow, despite everything, they were friends. Possibly more?

Will opened the door, stepping back, and he realized that they had never actually seen each other before, without the privacy afforded to them by their suits.

Hannibal was so much more than a red space man with (again) a comical hat. He was slender, and older than Will had initially anticipated. His hair was combed back neatly, and his gorgeous cheekbones looked like they could cut glass. His eyes were just as lovely, and Will realized he was staring only as he became aware Hannibal was as well.

Will wondered what the other man thought of him beneath the wolf ears. He knew he was scruffy and unkempt, far more so now in front of this immaculately groomed man. But Hannibal was looking at him like he was something… beautiful. He felt himself blushing.

Hannibal caught himself and smiled, glancing down as he stepped inside the room. He set the food down on the little table in the room, and Will shut the door behind him.

Hannibal took some cutlery from an inside jacket pocket, setting it down on either side of the dish.

"I didn't see you at dinner tonight, and I thought it might be kind to bring you some food myself."

Will smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Thank you. That is very considerate. It looks and smells amazing."

He sat carefully, wary that he still had his suspenders that attached his suit bottoms to him. He was rather mismatched. But Hannibal didn't seem to care.

He sniffed the meal experimentally, it was some type of meats and noodles in a thick dark sauce.

"What culinary delight have you served me tonight, doc- Hannibal?"

Will caught the little grin that the other man tried to stifle at the mention of his name.

"Teriyaki udon. With blackened chicken."

Will nodded.

"Will you partake as well, or..?"

"Oh, no, I ate earlier. Please, feel free."

Will nodded again, taking a cautious bite.

It was amazing, like everything the man cooked.

He couldn't suppress a small groan of delight, and he didn't mess the slight shiver that seemed to run down Hannibal's body. Interesting…

He devoured the meal, though he did try to at least remember his table manners. He felt embarrassed, honestly, but Hannibal looked so damn happy.

"I am so glad you like it," Hannibal murmured with a smile, packing the container and cutlery away.

"And, I must say, you are… exquisite. If we survive this ordeal, would… could…" he paused, glancing down, and Will felt jitters.

"I would, yes," he answered.

Hannibal blushed - blushed! - and smiled.

"That… makes me extraordinarily happy. Thank you, Will, I… I am so glad I have met you."

Will smiled and nodded. "I am too."

Hannibal ducked his head and waved as he stepped back out into the ship.

Will couldn't help smiling as he watched the man walk away.

--

This became their routine. A break from the monotony of every day, both the anxiety and the boredom. Will felt himself growing ever more attached to his companion, and found that he no longer disliked the doctor's seeming constant desire to be nearby as Will worked. In fact, Will would sometimes speed through his other tasks just to be able to meet Hannibal in Medbay as Hannibal finished his work.

Their evenings were spent together usually with Will eating something amazing Hannibal prepared, the other abstaining due to having eaten already. That was fine. They were together, talking about everything and nothing, confiding secrets. Will told Hannibal about his panic attacks, about how he couldn't work on Earth at the BAU because he felt himself becoming some kind of monster.

Hannibal in turn revealed his own tragic childhood, and confided that the Imposter (and subsequent hunts and ejection) made him uneasy enough to keep a knife on his personal at all times. His left rear pocket, he said, "in case something happens."

They tried to avoid that sort of talk, though. It just led to somber silences.

Mostly, Will enjoyed talking about folklore and food. Two universals of humanity. Hannibal had rich tapestries of experience in both, and Will was content to listen to his companion speak for hours on end, well into the night.

Will wondered, sometimes, when Hannibal walked back to his own quarters, what would happen if Will asked him to stay. To just… be with him, through the night. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He wondered what would happen if they survived this. What would happen if it came down to just themselves and the monster hiding in the ship.

Will knew, without a doubt now, he would die for Hannibal.

It didn't matter if that wasn't reciprocal.

--

One evening, they were down to six, and Will and Hannibal were having dinner (Will was eating, Hannibal talking). There was a knock at the door and Hannibal frowned as he stood to see who it was. He didn't make it to the door when it was forced open and their three remaining Crewmates were there, running in and seizing Will.

"It's you!" Pink screamed.

Will looked around, confused and terrified as hands grabbed at him, dragging him literally kicking and screaming from his own room.

"What?! What's- hey! Stop-!"

The crew didn't pause as they dragged him out, one staying by to keep Hannibal from following.

"We always knew you were a creepy little freak, but damn, Graham, I can't believe we've been so blind."

"It's not me! What the fuck?!"

"It has to be you. You and the Doc were the only two missing when we found the body, and we all know it's not him."

Will tried to process everything happening. He counted, there were only three people surrounding him and Hannibal, who was still shouting (he had never seen the man so upset, so animated), and it clicked.

It was Hannibal.

All this time, the man he was falling for was the monster he was afraid of.

He felt like the realization should have hit harder, should have hurt more, but…

Well it didn't really change much, now.

Hannibal was still the only one who had shown him a shred of decency. Hannibal listened to him, consoled him, cooked for him… cared for him.

Will felt everything move in slow motion. He met Hannibal's eyes. He saw the fear there, of what he couldn't be certain.

He felt a wave of calm come over him. All of this proof, and the crew still had not put it together (he, at least, had been blinded by affection and antisocial tendencies). Hannibal would almost certainly win this morbid game.

He didn't expect Hannibal to go full monster.

His jaw unhinged like a snake's, and his nails became claws, and there was just a pile of meat where the crewman holding him back once had been.

Everything stopped. The pair holding him let go and Will fell to the floor with a sharp cry, the air leaving his lungs all at once. He tried to catch his breath as Hannibal turned to the Crewmates. Will saw how terribly inhuman he seemed, even without the snake-jaw and claws, in the cold light in his eyes, the hard line of his mouth, the fury that Will could tell was bubbling just beneath the surface.

"You!!"

Will wheezed a chuckle. It was so obvious now to him. How Hannibal had almost always just "eaten," how he had so much knowledge about so many things, how he seemed to finish his tasks so quickly. He had attached himself to Will, who protested the ejections, who never noticed whether Hannibal could complete their tasks or not…

Will had to wonder if any of it was real. If he fell in love with a monster incapable of returning his feelings. It had felt real, had felt mutual, he knew he had seen affection in the man's eyes as they talked.

Maybe Hannibal could fake it. But it had been real enough for Will, realer than the simpering cowards who were rapidly backing away, cowering behind Will. As he got to his feet, one shoved him back down, towards Hannibal. Hannibal glanced down at him, worry briefly passing through his gaze as he continued to walk towards the pair of fools.

Will panted, slowly working his way back up to his feet, leaning against a wall. Hannibal stalked towards his prey, and Will was surprised at his own feelings of vicious satisfaction.

They deserved this. They deserved to suffer for all the lives they'd taken in their squabbling.

Hannibal reached towards the pair, a thick black… something… stretching from his hand and wrapping it around the pink crewmate. It squeezed, and with a sickening crunch, that crewmate was no more.

Will staggered towards the action, and saw the remaining figure pulling their gun up, aiming at Hannibal, still busy mutilating the pink body.

Time slowed down for Will. He ran, as fast as he could, reaching for Hannibal.

Back right pocket.

He felt the knife in Hannibal's pocket, gripping it as he felt himself fall, then what his brain could only describe as a chair leg punching through his chest. He gripped the knife as he lay on the ground, and while Hannibal had his attention torn between the crewmate and himself, Will threw the knife.

He hoped that his sense of aim was at least passible and as he felt himself starting to black out, all he could think was that he had been right.

He would die for Hannibal.

--

He hadn't expected to wake up, later. He gasped and sat up, hands reaching blindly, frantically, into nothing. A burst of pain in his chest forced him back down, and he nearly blacked out again.

He looked around, body slick with sweat as he panicked, looking around to figure out where he was, mind trying to figure out what had happened.

He felt a gentle pressure by his feet, and a warm hand pressed to his forehead.

"Welcome back, Will."

That was Hannibal's voice. Quiet, sure. Perhaps it was his own confusion, but Will could have sworn there was something… different. Perhaps a bit of a warble that inferred something beyond the man's usual brand of steady confidence.

It didn't matter.

"I… you… you're okay?"

Hannibal came into view, the same composed man in the tweed suit.

"I am. You very nearly weren't, my silly, foolish, brace Will…" he murmured, sitting down by Will's side.

Will looked down, his chest was covered in bandages, a couple little tubes running from them. So he really had been shot.

"Why did you do that? Why did you put yourself in the way?" Hannibal sounded nearly… angry.

"Because I couldn't lose you," Will croaked.

Hannibal's hand stroked Will's hair, soothing, tender, nothing one might expect from a creature that had done so much damage.

"Even though you knew what I was?"

"You were the lesser evil in my eyes."

"And what now? Will you try to flee as soon as you are well? Will you kill me yourself?"

Will chuckled softly, leaning into the warm hand.

"Seems a bit pointless. I'd starve to death without your cooking."

Hannibal managed a smile, though it was very nearly a grimace, and Will realized with some amusement (and some sadness) that there were tears in the man's eyes.

"Hey now, I'm the one with a hole in my body, no crying," Will chided gently, his own hand reaching out to wipe the tears away.

"I am sorry. I never intended to… get so attached."

Will hummed in agreement. He hadn't either. But that's what they got for being lonely fools, he supposed.

"Just to clarify," Will started, carefully adjusting, "did you feed me my Crewmates?"

That would be… problematic, to say the least, but he would understand.

"I… yes."

"To get rid of evidence?"

"Partially. Partially to… initiate you."

Into what? Was there some kind of monster cult? Hannibal saw his confusion and continued.

"I… wondered, perhaps, if you would… ever consider becoming… more. Than you are. Becoming the purest form of yourself."

"Becoming like you, you mean," Will interpreted, and Hannibal nodded.

"I confess, it gave me great excitement to think about."

Will could imagine. Hannibal must have been even more alone than Will felt, with no one truly understanding anything about him.

"Why not finish it?"

"I would need your consent. I could, in theory, turn you, but…"

Hannibal looked down.

"I would rather you kill me than resent me for turning you against your will. I knew you would likely starve yourself in protest. I… I could not watch you do that."

It was the most vulnerable Will thought he had ever seen Hannibal. There was something deeply endearing about it.

"Well, now what, then? Will you turn me now? If I consent?"

Hannibal looked up at him, tears even greater than they had been.

"You would want to become such a thing?"

"I think I would. If it means I can be with you. If you'll have me."

Will scarcely had time to blink when Hannibal's lips were on his own, and those tender arms were cradling him to the monstrous man's chest.

For such a powerful creature, Hannibal seemed so delicate and fragile now. Will carefully returned the embrace, mewling into the kiss.

He'd never felt like this before. He felt… known. Perceived, all that he was. He loved it.

"Are there many like us?" He murmured as Hannibal pulled away to rest their foreheads together.

"No, there is no one like us."

Will chuckled softly.

"You know what I mean."

"No, I can't say I do, please enlighten me."

"Now you're teasing me."

"I would never," Hannibal purred softly.

"Right, right. I mean, are there more, I guess, imposters? What are we called?"

"Probably. I never cared to know any before. All I need, all I desire, is here, with you."

Will laughed, shaking his head.

"You're lucky you're so charming."

"I am. I'm lucky you appreciate my special brand of charm."

Will hummed in agreement, leaning up for another kiss. He could easily see himself getting addicted to this. It seemed Hannibal could to, because the man was straddling his hips.

"Easy, now, I'm grievously injured, remember? You have to play nice with me," Will teased.

"Of course, of course. Just getting comfortable" Hannibal retorted.

"That so? Well alright, I suppose I can't be mad at that, then."

Hannibal smiled, genuinely, pressing gentle kisses to Will's forehead.

"Don't worry. I'm a patient man. I've waited this long for you, I can manage a few more weeks. Just be patient with me as well. This… is all new."

Will nodded, yawning and adjusting himself again. He felt exhaustion tug at his mind, and though he tried, he couldn't resist just resting his eyes.

"It's alright, my Will. Sleep. You have time to Become something amazing."

[dark-wicked-marvel-fics]

A Warriors Defeat

Warnings! Heavy Non-con and Dub-con (it kind of switches back and forth), magical roofies, loss of control, very dark Loki. If rape offends or triggers you please don’t read this. 

Blurb! You mistakenly decide you are strong enough to capture Loki alone, aware he has set a trap for you. He doesn’t want to just beat you, he knows exactly how to break you. 

 It was most likely a trap, in fact it clearly was. An anonymous tip-off from a ‘civilian’ who had spotted the God of Mischief, an address in Manhattan. Loki had been known to frequent Earth, causing havoc where he could, destroying lives wherever possible. The Avengers had fought him many times now, sometimes winning but never quite defeating him. You had faced of against him with the team and had infuriatingly never managed to defeat him.  Well that ended today, because trap or not, you were going to that address and you were going to annihilate the bastard. You should have waited for back-up but there was a scar along your hip that the god had gifted you in your last fight against him and you wanted to repay him for it.

 Call it hubris, call it stupidity, it didn’t matter. You went alone, racing to the address for the penthouse he was supposedly holed up in, breaking down the door with one swift kick.

 “You came.”

 Loki’s voice slithered through the darkness, stating the obvious. Clutching a dagger in both hands you narrowed your eyes and searched the decedent apartment for him, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the lavish and gaudy décor. The large ornate fireplace burned with green flames, casting an eerie glow about the place. The sharp scent of rich incense wafted through the air, tickling at your sinuses. Black marble floors that echoed every step you took, golden gauzy curtains that fluttered along the open balcony doors, your shadow painted on emerald green walls… It was all as over the top and dramatic as he was.

 “Of course I came, how could I resist your invitation?” You hissed.

“You couldn’t. We both know that you can not resist me, that you would rush here alone, determined to be the one to finally take me down. It’s been there since the beginning, this pull between us, has it not? This desire to do bodily harm.”

 “Do you have a crush on me Loki?” You mocked, turning slowly as you tried to figure out where his voice was coming from.

 His laughter echoed around you, sending a shiver down your spine.

 “A crush. Such paltry things are beneath me, as you will soon be.”

 “You’re even more insane than I thought if you really believe that’s possible.” You snarled, your stomach churning at the very notion.

 “Insane, yes, but I am not foolish. You however… I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist coming here, so hellbent on destroying me that you still haven’t even realised that you are the one who is going to be destroyed.”

 The shadows behind you moved, the hair on the back of your neck prickling and on instinct you moved. You spun around with superhuman speed, the tail of your coat fanning out behind you. Even as he appeared you were poised to strike, your dagger at his throat before your eyes had even adjusted to his presence.

 And then you just… stopped. Held in stasis, your blade against his neck.

 “But it will not be your body that is destroyed, not yet, not until you beg for it. It is your mind that will break and bend to my will, it has already begun.”

 He wasn’t afraid, he barely glanced at the dagger. His eyes brimmed over with malicious amusement and his lips twisted up into a vicious smirk. He was a like a dark angel, terrifying and beautiful in equal measure.

 Wait, beautiful? You had never though of him as beautiful before. Of course he wasn’t ugly, objectively speaking, but you had never been objective when it came to Loki. His looks were insignificant because he was dangerous and evil. So why now were you realising just how stunning he was? And why had you never admitted it sooner?

 He calmly placed the tip of his finger against your wrist and guided it away, removing the dagger from his throat. You let him.

 “I haven’t been a gracious host, allow me to take your coat.” He said pleasantly, neatly stepping behind you.

 You felt his hands on your shoulders as he slid the coat down your arms, tugging it off and tossing it aside. It landed in a heap, the bright Avengers symbol that was sewn in above the right breast pocket drawing your eye. It seemed to be mocking you.

 “Breath deeply my pet, let the magic run through you and strip away that pesky free will.” He whispered, running his hands across your waist.

 “No.” You gasped.

 The incense. It was some kind of spell, something that was infecting your mind. You grit your teeth and held your breath, fighting desperately against his influence. You just needed to break through for a second, long enough to plunge your dagger into his chest and… and…

 His hand slithered across your stomach, fingers trailing along your waistband. Icy tendrils of fear wrapped themselves around your heart, squeezing it. You knew now what Loki had planned for you, what would happen if you didn’t find a way to fight back.

 “Breathe.” He ordered, lips ghosting across your neck in tandem with the rapid descent of his hand.

 He cupped your groin, your mound resting easily in the palm of his hand and you instinctually gasped, little tremors of pleasure running through your body.

 “Loki.” You whimpered softly, what had meant to be a hateful warning coming out a needy beg.

 “Yes, that’s it little pet.”

 He tugged the dagger from your limp fingers, inspecting it thoughtfully before he looked you in the eyes, grinning at the last vestiges of defiance in them. You wanted to scream as he traced the tip of your own dagger across your cleavage, the cool metal almost a balm to your burning skin.

 “Before you are completely lost to this spell I want you to know what is going to happen to you my pet.” He taunted, slicing through your shirt with the dagger and tearing the material from your shoulder, discarding it on the ground.

 “I am going to ravage you and you are going to let me. You will beg for me, beg for my touch like the pathetic little whore you are.” He hissed, trailing the dagger back up your stomach and between your breasts, cutting through the front of your bra.

 The already stiff peaks of your nipples hardened even more in the cool air as you were bared to him and his ravenous gaze, his eyes hungrily drinking in the sight.

 “I am going to crawl between those luscious thighs of yours when you spread them open for me and I will fuck you, like only a god can. I, Loki, who you despise so much will claim your body and fill you with my seed.” He snarled, teasing your nipples with your dagger.

 You had faced off against all manner of threats, fighting against monsters and aliens, and you had never been afraid. You had left all your weakness and humanity behind years ago when you were injected with a knock-off super soldier serum that had against all odds worked. You were a trained warrior, a super-hero. But as you stood helpless in front of him, hearing his wicked promise of what would happen to you, you felt like a scared little girl.

 You wanted to tell him to fuck off, to scream and rage and kill him but what you did was whimper softly and arch your back, presenting yourself to him. He made a low hum of appreciation in the back of his throat and you hear the dagger clatter to the ground.

 “You’re slipping pet, you’re almost there.”

 You knew he was telling the truth, you knew it by the growing heat in your blood, the distant ache in your pussy. Your mind was utterly repulsed by what was happening, by the knowledge that Loki’s cock would soon be inside you but that same thought was what was making you wet, you slick starting to seep through your panties. He wasn’t mortal, he would fuck you like you had never been fucked before.

 You weren’t worthy of being fucked by a god, but you were so so lucky that he had chosen you.

 “No!” You managed to spit out, trying to remind your infected brain that you hated him, you weren’t lucky to be raped.

 “What was that?” He asked, amused by your pathetic attempts at fighting.

 “N…nn…o.” You stammered.

 He didn’t answer with words, only with a salacious smirk. His eyes slowly trailed down your body and he circled you like a vulture, coming to stand behind you, his cold lips brushing against your ear, his breath tickling your hair when he spoke.  

 “Tell me how much you don’t want this.”

 His hands slithered over your skin, pulling the remains of your tattered bra from you, tearing into the material of your trousers. You didn’t fight, in fact you helped, moving robotically to wiggle your hips and rid yourself of the pesky material that was covering you, kicking your shoes off. His fingers lightly traced the scar on your hip and he chuckled as he remembered the day he had given it to you.

 “I don’t hear you.” He hissed lowly in your ear, taunting you for losing control over your voice.

 Your entire body was held captive by him, submitting to his will. Only your mind knew this was wrong, only your mind argued against it as he slid his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, teasing the soft curls that lay beneath.

 His finger slid between your lips, delving between your fold and discovering the ample wetness there. Shame, fear, embarrassment and loathing burned through you but they were all shoved aside when he inserted two fingers inside you, without care or tenderness. You were dripping, gushing, wetter than you had ever been as the torture truly began in earnest and your worst enemy laughed at the deep throated moans of pleasure spilling from your throat as he fingered your cunt.

 “Yes! Oh god yes!” You whimpered, spreading your legs and leaning back on him.

 His withdrew from you and snatched at your waist, his fingers digging into your hips as he used his hold on you to spin you around, your bare chest slamming into his. Even through his clothes you could feel his body, and it felt good. Your eyelashes fluttered as your eyes rolled back in your head, the sensation too much for you to take. When you opened your eyes again, it was to see him smiling down at you and the green embers of the fire flicker dangerously before they abruptly died out and reverted orange and yellow flames, the magic complete.

 You smiled back.

 “There we are.” He cooed, his voice like velvet.

 “Loki” You whispered breathlessly, his name like a prayer on your lips.  

 Caught in the devils heated gaze and victim to his razor sharp smile, if you believed you had a soul then you would tear your body apart to retrieve it and gift it to him. The god before you had made a believer and a sinner of you in one fell swoop, he could not have more thoroughly owned your heart if he had carved it from your chest and held it in his hands. All you had ever been, all you were was lashed away and in the bleeding wounds left behind, all that remained was what you would be.

 His.

 A whisper in the back of your mind tried to fight through the walls he had put up, tried to remind you to whom you really belonged, but it was washed away by another crashing wave of false lust.

 “Tell me who you belong to,” He ordered confidentially, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

 “You, My God, you,” Your own voice answered, filled with surety.

 “Then kiss me, my faithful acolyte, come and kiss your god.” He demanded.

 You gladly obeyed, surging up with towards his gorgeous mouth. Your lips crashed into his with frenzied hunger, and grateful devotion. His lips were cold but his kiss was not, his kiss was like fire. You lost yourself in it, in him. Your entire world narrowed down to the feel of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, the taste of blood in your mouth, his tongue claiming your mouth. You hands tugged helplessly at his clothes, fuelled by the overwhelming desire to feel his bare skin against yours. You needed him, if you didn’t have him then you would just die.

 “Please, please my god, please.” You whimpered into his mouth, your needy little please being eagerly drunk down by him.

 You felt lightheaded from lack of oxygen, high from his presence. Reality swam out of reach and you found yourself in a wonderful fuzzy kind of world instead, one where flashes of green blinded you, his clothes disappearing under your fingers and his cold marble like skin pressed against your overly warm flesh. It was all divine, too divine for words. You were utterly bespelled by him, completely lost in at all. It was like you were drunk, or high. You didn’t know when you had lost your panties, or how, you didn’t notice they were gone until his thigh found its way between your legs and you shamelessly ground yourself against him, riding his thigh as he laughed at your eagerness. You didn’t want foreplay, you didn’t need it. What you needed was to be consumed, obliterated, taken over and fucked by him and only him.

 When you felt the edge of the bed against the back of your knees you happily let him push you down onto the mattress, scrabbling backwards until you were laid out in front of him in the hope he would take the invitation.

 He stood at the foot of the bed, his pale skin almost glowing in the moonlight. His eyes glittered with satisfaction, his grin so feral his teeth were bared. Dark hair fanned out over his shoulders, like tendrils of ink caressing his skin. You whimpered as your eyes drifted down, across his toned chest and stomach, your gaze following the dark trail that started under his bellybutton and led down to his groin. He was even more blessed than you had expected from a god. You didn’t even think as your legs fell open whoreishly, spread for him.

 “And there it is, the beginning and end of your fall from grace.” He growled, climbing onto the bed and crawling along your body.

 Your hands automatically reached for him, drawing him into you arms like he was a cherished lover as he settled between your quivering thighs. His words didn’t make sense, and it didn’t matter, you were so close to what you needed.

 The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, a promise of the pain and pleasure that was about to follow. His fingers dug harshly into your skin, surely leaving patterns of bruises along your thigh as he held your legs wide open for him. The tip of him slid easily inside you, aided by your wetness. He was barely an inch sheathed inside you, moans spilling from your lips and bleeding into the night air when he pulled back out, a dark chuckle rumbling from his lips when you whimpered.

 “Fuck me, please, my prince, my god, my Loki, take me.” You sobbed, desperate for the aching emptiness in your cunt to be filled by him and only him.

 You repeated the plea over and over again shamelessly, until he slammed his hips forward and speared you with one swift and painful thrust. You screamed in agony, sure he had ripped you apart, and you absolutely relished in it. He was buried so deep inside you that there was no room left for anything else, no room for air in your lungs. You were stretched wide, his girth almost too much for your fragile body to bear.

 “So responsive, I wonder…” He mused, reaching between your bodies to lightly brush his fingers across your swollen clit.

 The primal shriek of pleasure that his action drew from you was inhuman.

 “Only true pleasure can wash away the effects of the potion. Once you have what it makes you want, the spell fades.” He whispered wickedly, pressing his fingers down and using them to push you over the edge.

 Your cunt pulsated around his cock as the searing orgasm burned through your blood. It felt like it lasted for eternity, the pleasure fed by the burn between your thighs and the almost unbearable fullness inside you. Your orgasm raged, forcing wave after wave of spine bending ecstasy through you, and with every wave the magic that made you compliant was washed away. When the pleasure died from a raging inferno to a smouldering blaze you were once again in your own mind, while Loki was buried deep inside you.

 “Welcome back.” He whispered in your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe.

 “No.” You gasped breathlessly.

 His cruelty knew no limits. He had tortured you with the knowledge of how you would be used, and then he had woken you up to bear witness to your desecration when it was too late to stop it. You were already trapped beneath him, spread wide open and impaled on his cock.

 “Oh yes.” He chuckled, grabbing your wrists as you tried to push him away, tried to save yourself.

 He pinned your hands above your head and rested his forehead against yours, forcing you to look into his eyes.

 “Such sweet screams of pleasure, how sweet will your cries of horror be? I have had your compliance, now give me your defiance.” He ordered, releasing his hold on your wrists.

 An unwilling gasp was ripped from your lungs as he pulled out of you almost all the way, caressing every sensitive and tender spot inside you as he withdrew. Against your better instinct you looked between your legs and froze at the sight of his cock glistening with your juices sliding from you. The spell was still lingering in your blood because it still felt good, it still felt divine.

 “Fight me.” He growled.

 “Fight me, or I will fuck you until your body breaks.” He warned when you didn’t move.

 You met his eye, terror coursing through your veins. He had already laid you bare, forced his way inside you and even made you beg for it, made you scream his name in pleasure. You had already been violated, how much more could you take? You tried to sit up, tried to scramble backward and free yourself from him but he only laughed at your pathetic attempts. The palm of your hand connected with his cheek, your nails raking across his face and drawing blood. He hissed, but not in pain. His eyes fluttered closed, dark eyelashes brushing against his cheeks and for a very brief second you thought how beautiful he looked. Like a work of art carved from marble, a depiction of the devil himself given life by Michelangelo.

 And then his fingers closed around your throat and you were pushed back onto the bed as he slammed his hips forward, thrusting back inside you, your breasts bouncing with the force of it. The only thing that stopped you screaming was his fingers on your throat. He squeezed tightly, nearly crushing your windpipe before he abruptly loosened his grip and let you breath. You gasped and coughed, trying to force some oxygen into your lungs but he didn’t seem to care. A drop of blood dribbled down his face, splashing onto your chest and it unlocked something feral in him. His pupils dilated as he watched it fall, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he growled, the sound animalistic and horrifying. His fingers tightened again and  choked the life out of you as he fucked the hope from you. Every thrust of his hips shredded another little piece of your soul, every inch of his cock inside you chipping away at your sanity.

 You were still wet from the forced orgasm so he met no resistance as he slammed into you but god, it still hurt. Every time his body met yours the slapping of skin made you wince, followed shorty by a sob of pain as his head brushed into your cervix. There was no rest, no respite from his brutal and unflinching pace. You tried to struggle, tried to push him away, your nails carving lines into his arms as you fought, but it only spurred him on. For every miniscule drop of blood you drew he grew more frenzied. His fingers alternated between squeezing and loosening just enough to let you draw in a single breath, keeping you on the precipice of unconscious. He didn’t even have enough mercy to let you pass out.

 “Is this not what you craved all along? The freedom to give in to your deepest desires without having to bear the burden of the guilt?” He hissed, releasing his hold on your throat in favour of wrapping his fingers around your hair and forcing your head up so you were forced to watch the way his cock slammed into you over and over again.

 It wasn’t what you wanted, you wanted no part of this, and if your pussy was still gushing it was because of the magic. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist because you were under his influence, not because you loved the way he moved inside of you. Your hands slid up his arms because you weren’t in control, not because you were a willing slave to his cock. Your nails dug into his shoulders because you were spelled, not because he was working your body like a finely tuned instrument. You moaned his name because he had forced you, not because you fucking loved the way he slammed into you.

 “I hate you, you monster.” You sobbed, holding on for dear life as he pistoned in and out of you.

 “Oh I am a monster, and you may hate me but you don’t hate this.” He mocked, his point illustrated by the obscene squelching coming from where your bodies joined.

 Your head thumped back onto the pillow as the will to fight completely drained out of you. He was right, your body didn’t hate this and fighting against both him and yourself was too much. You gave in, squeezing your eyes closed and trying to pretend this wasn’t happening. You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t him between your legs, wasn’t him buried deep inside you, wasn’t his mouth on your throat, wasn’t his teeth grazing and nipping at your flesh, wasn’t his hand squeezing your breasts, wasn’t his fingers pinching your nipples. Your body jolted, your hips being driven down into the mattress with every thrust and you knew if you were anything less than a super-soldier then he would have broken you by now, mangled your body.

 Tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes, sliding down your face and into your sweat soaked hair when you felt that pressure in your groin begin to build again. He was going to force another orgasm from your abused body, and this time there would be no magic to lay the blame on.

 “Please, please don’t do this.” You whispered, broken from a strong warrior to a pathetic whimpering mess.        

 But even as you begged him to stop, your hips rose up to meet him, chasing the mind bending pleasure only he could provide. You had never felt like this, never had your body held so carefully between pain and pleasure. It was killing you inside, but it felt so good, it felt so right. You were torn apart, scattered in all directions, coming apart at the seams and though it was his fault, you clung onto him in the hope he could somehow put you back together.

 “Have I finally broken you, pet?” He chuckled as your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers entwining themselves in his hair.

 You opened your eyes, your desperately sad gaze meeting his victorious one and you nodded, finally admitting defeat. He grinned savagely, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you close as he sat up, settling back on his heels so you were straddling him.

 “Then prove it, and perhaps I will show you mercy.”

 You couldn’t have hesitated if you wanted to, your hips were already moving, sliding up and down on his cock of your own free will, chasing the delightful friction of having him inside you. The last vestiges of shame were wiped away as you fucked him, your thighs working overtime as you lifted your body up and back down, impaling yourself on him with reckless abandon. He kept his arm around your wrist, supporting you as he helped you move, drove your pace form fast and hard to superhuman.

 Every tender and sensitive spot inside you was massaged with every thrust, your clit dragging over his groin every time you sunk down on him and it all quickly overwhelmed you, propelling you to the point of orgasm.

 “Don’t forget to scream for me.” Loki warned, just as you approached the edge of oblivion.

 Just before you toppled over there was an almighty crashing sound and you looked over Loki’s shoulder, your eyes immediately meeting the shocked ones of Steve Rogers as he stood in the doorway, shield raised high.

 And then your vision went white as you came, unable to fight it off, your body convulsing in Loki’s arms as you screamed his name over and over again. Your second orgasm blew your first out of the water, your cunt convulsing almost violently around him and your spine almost breaking from how far back you arched it. His teeth sank into your shoulder, drawing blood as his cock twitched inside you, his seed filling you. It lasted an eternity, a glorious eternity, and when your soul returned to your body you collapsed back onto the pillows, completely spent.

 It wasn’t until Loki spoke you even remembered you weren’t alone.

 “My apologies Captain, I know she belonged to you but I don’t think she does anymore.” Loki drawled wickedly, his eyes glittering with mirth as he stretched his body alongside yours, draping his arm over you possessively.

 “Babydoll?” Steve whispered, finally finding his voice, calling out for you desperately, hoping what his eyes were showing him was some kind of trick.

 “Tell him who you belong to now, pet.” Loki hissed in your ear, loud enough for Steve to hear.

 You blinked back tears, too ashamed to even look at the man you supposedly loved, choosing instead to look at Loki. He wasn’t giving you a choice, not really. And you were thankful for it.

 “Loki, I belong with Loki.” 

Note - If you feel up to it, please like or reblog, or leave a comment (anon messages are switched on if needed). I'm still very nervous about posting these kinds of works and am trying very hard to resist the urge to flee into the night, never to be seen again. 

[justjen523]

A Child With the Gods

Chapter 8

(Series Rating E 18+)

                                       Love’s Infinite Depth

     “D-Does that mean what I think it means?!” Ichthys asks with eyes still wide in awe. It’s pretty apparent to everyone that the answer is “Yes.” Unable to find the right words to say Zyglavis just stands there in shock unsure of how to proceed. Just looking at him I can see the immense internal struggle. I on the other hand feel such overwhelming joy knowing that the god I seem to have fallen madly in love with is the Father to one of my children. Unable to hide it any longer from my face I burst into tears from sheer happiness. 

     No one else in the room seems to know what to say or do and subsequently does nothing. I continue to stare at that incredibly tiny and precious little hand seeking out it’s Father’s warmth.

     “Z-Zyglavis, look. Your little one wants so desperately to touch you. You  should-” Before I can finish my sentence he is on his knees resting his cheek against my belly and pressing soft kisses to the tiny little palm. As soon as he does this our baby seems to come even more alive almost as if it wants to play with him. My heart is so full it’s painful. Looking up at me with the most beautiful smile I have ever seen Zyglavis himself is in tears making this moment without a doubt the happiest of my life.

     “Wooooooow! How cute is that?! Ziggy is a daddy!” 

     “Pffft....cute? More like terrifying. I actually feel bad for the poor kid.”

     “Leon! That was seriously mean!” Looking completely unfazed Zyglavis simply takes my hand in his, his smile never faltering. 

     “Nothing can ruin this moment for me. Not even the Rabid Lion.” There’s a calmness in him I have never seen before. A sort of serenity.

     “Zig, I ain’t one to tell ya how to do things but, don’t forget she’s still mortal and that makes your kid a demigod. Don’t forget what the King said.” Scorpio’s expression does not match the harshness in his tone. Never having heard anything about this before I can’t help but glance between Zyglavis and Scorpio waiting for one of them to explain to me what he is referring to.

     “I am aware. I must admit I was quite unprepared to face the reality of this situation when all of this began. That is no longer the case. I have found something precious to me worth protecting and I do not refer simply to the life I have helped create.” His confession surprises even me. While I knew he loved me to hear it in his own words and being said aloud in front of the others somehow finally made it feel real. 

     “What about you woman? Do you love Zig the same way?” Suddenly all eyes are on me and I feel a lump in my throat. While the answer is undeniably yes part of me hesitates to say it simply because one of the others is still the Father of my other child. I don’t want to risk making anything unnecessarily painful for whomever that may be. 

     Seeing me fret Zyglavis simply smiles knowing that I absolutely return his feelings but am unsure of how to proceed without hurting anyone.

     “It is unfair to ask something such as that Scorpio. She is faced with many difficult decisions yet to come and I am not selfish enough as to expect her to declare her feelings in this state. Please, allow her time to figure out what to do.” I can’t help staring at him purely amazed that this is the same Zyglavis I met some time ago. It’s like all of this has completely changed him for the better. Though if asked not all of his subordinates would agree. Zyglavis is known and depended on for his strict adherence to the law and also his seemingly merciless fortitude in the face of doling out divine Punishment and Retribution. Looking at this serene and truly happy expression he now wears it’s hard to imagine him that way at all.

     “Tch. You’ve gone pretty soft Zig. Better be careful is all I’m sayn’. You know where the King stands on all this.” That’s the last Scorpio says before exiting the room leaving an awkward sort of tension in the air.

     Another month has passed since the day we discovered one of my children was fathered by Zyglavis. With that knowledge the other’s don’t seem to mind or even complain when Zyglavis starts spending more time with me. I am grateful for his company as I cannot believe I have actually managed to grow so much larger still. Carrying the weight of two extremely healthy and prosperous babies coupled with my gigantic breasts has taken it’s tole on my back. It’s nearly impossible for me to be comfortable anywhere other than my bed in the mansion. Worried for the three of us Zyglavis however sees to it that I at least get out once a day and take a stroll around the garden with him. The air always works it’s magic leaving me feeling refreshed.

     We’re talking and laughing when Scorpio suddenly appears out of nowhere looking a lot more severe than usual.

     “What’s wrong?” Zyglavis instantly transforms into the Minister of Punishments upon seeing his Vice Minister’s expression.

     “There’s been a development overseas. That group we’ve been keepn’ our eye on has finally made a move. The King wants to see us immediately.” Unhappy with the turn events Zyglavis turns to me before placing both hands on my shoulders.

     “I may be unavailable for a few days but do not fear. The moment this situation is under control I will immediately return to your side.” I simply nod in agreement trying to hide the aggravation and disappointment of this situation having the worst timing. With a tender smile he places a gentle kiss to my forehead which as usual causes movement in the womb. Unable to do anything but smile at that simple indescribable joy I watch him go before slowly making my way back to my room. 

          “Do you really love him goldfish?” Leon’s sudden unexpected voice in close proximity startles me causing me to spin around. His cocky grin is nowhere to be found.

     “And if I do?” Leon’s troubled expression starts to turn angry.

     “That uptight nag doesn’t deserve you.” His harsh words leave me speechless as he continues to stare at me intensely. 

     “Have you forgotten his cruelty toward you when we first met you?” The sudden memory of Zyglavis being hellbent on killing me flashes through my mind.

     “I-It’s not like that anymore!”

     “How can you be so sure? He may be playing the part right now but once he has his child you will be of no consequence to him.”

     “H-How can you say that?! Zyglavis would never...” Unable to finish my sentence at the sudden pain Leon’s thoughtless words bring me I feel an anger begin to rise when that ‘I told ya so’ smirk looks down at me coolly.

     “Y-You’re just...jealous!” I shout angrily at him causing a displeased expression to take it’s place.

     “Me jealous? Preposterous. Nothing about that stick in the mud is worth being jealous of. Just don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart.” When he turns to walk away I feel an overwhelming rage wash through me. ‘How dare he say such cruel things and then simply walk away!’  Before he takes more than a few steps, unable to control my overflowing emotions I reach out and grab his jacket to try and prevent him from walking away from me. His expression when he turns around quickly informs me that it was a very bad decision. He grips my wrist firmly in order to remove my hand from him but doesn’t let go. Instead he stares me down overwhelming me with his intimidating presence. Suddenly very much aware that I overstepped my bounds I shrink against myself until a stern voice shouts from down the hall.

     “Please remove your hand, you are scaring her.” Looking past Leon I am surprised to see my ex looking almost as severe as Leon. I am utterly shocked. Neither of us have said so much as a word since we went our separate ways.

     “Oh-ho! Nice to see you finally take an interest in this mess you made.” The two gods stare daggers at each other before Leon surprisingly relinquishes his grip. His trademark smirk returning before simply turning and walking away before disappearing into his room. Unsure of what exactly just happened I can’t help but stand there shaking. I can’t tell if it’s due to fear, anger, sadness or any combination thereof. 

     Hue silently makes his way toward me before taking my trembling hands in his cool one’s. When our eye’s meet the all too familiar pain of what transpired many months ago still lingers. 

     “Umm...t-thank you.....for protecting me and stuff.” As usual he says nothing but offers a small smile in return.

     “Are you alright?” Now it’s my turn to remain speechless as I simply nod. Several moments pass awkwardly before one of us speaks again.

     “I apologize for the distance I have caused between us. I simply couldn’t bare to see you with hurt that I caused you in your eyes. It was cowardly and selfish of me I know.” He finally offers.

     “N-No. I understand. It was difficult for me at first to even look at you.” I begin to tell him honestly.

     “But now, after everything that’s happened.....I.....I want us to at least be able to talk. I can’t pretend I’ll ever understand your reasons for doing what you did, but....I do however forgive you. I...miss you. I miss your snarky jokes and....the way you always seemed to know exactly what I needed.” Now that I’ve started I’m finding it hard to stop, the tears dripping from my chin. Hue too is teary eyed but says nothing and instead smiles warmly before wrapping his cool hand around the back of my neck bringing my forehead to his. His eyes close a moment and a single tear falls down his cheek. When he opens his eyes again there is a sadness I haven’t seen since we first met. 

     He quickly lets go and transforms back into the god I have come to know as Huedhaut. 

     “You are always welcome to talk to me and I hope in time we can once again become good friends.” 

     “But what if you’re-”

     “I am not the other Father.” 

     “What? H-How do you-”

     “I saw it, just now when our foreheads touched.” There’s a wistful sadness in his smile utterly breaking my heart. I can’t help myself from reaching out to gently caress the side of his face with my palm.

     “Hue....I....”

     “Aren’t you curious as to who the Father is?” 

     “It doesn’t matter.”

     “What did you just say?”

     “All I care about at this moment is you. I’m so sorry...”

     “Sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

     “I’m sorry that you got hurt regardless of how we got here. I’m sorry for whatever the reason is that you sometimes look at me with such a sorrow I probably will never understand. I’m sorry that I didn’t handle everything better when you opened up and told me the truth. Most of all I’m sorry that ....in the end....we couldn’t stay together. But I mean it when I tell you this, nothing can ever change the love I will always have in my heart for you Huedhaut. There’s a part of me that still even now feels like it belongs to you and only you and in the same sense I feel like a part of you is always with me.”

     “You. What am I going to do with you? A million lifetimes can come and go yet I promise you my feelings for you will never change. Not ever. All I want....all I have ever wanted is your happiness. If it is not with me than I will simply wait until the next life to find you once more. Then I will earn your love and prove myself worthy to keep it.” My heart hurts so impossibly deeply I can barely breathe as he says those words to me. He presses one last kiss to the back of my hand before smiling.

     “I will always be here for you no matter what. You can always come to me without need for an explanation so please, do not hesitate anymore. Let us begin to rebuild, only this time as friends.”

     “Thank you Hue. Truly. Thank you.” Wrapping my arms around him I hug him tightly hoping he can feel how much I still care.