#ℒ

[fangsforhire]

Crossbones.

The moniker was rapidly spreading throughout the criminal underground like a disease, causing mass hysteria within certain individuals. Very few knew of its origins but research and meticulous manoeuvres meant Lucien was an exception. Rollins had been effortless, he’d plucked him from the confines of his so called safe-house, receiving a butt of a gun for the pleasure. ( Rumlow? Not so much. ) He’d always been capable of exploiting the vulnerable, of covering his tracks. The Navy taught its recruits every technique known to man. Elusive was an understatement. He’d gone off grid, operating only in the shadows, but that suited Lucien fine. The commander wasn’t the only one capable of being evasive. HYDRA had not been his first rodeo either. They’d merely wormed their way in when he was at his most vulnerable, rendering him into a villainous victim. In a sense they’d woken him up. After tragedy had struck he’d never been quite the same. He’d been consumed by his own affliction. Guilt really was a killer wasn’t it? Yet his eyes were now wide open. HYDRA had been naive. How could they break what had never been whole in the first place? Sure they’d managed to fracture a piece of him away. Managed to provoke the monster within, but they hadn’t understood they were in the process of producing their own undoing. ( Humans were nothing, if not arrogant. Which brought him back to Rumlow. The egotistical bastard. ) Hands balled into fists, staring at the shadowed figure in the confines of the cell. Rollins was convinced he had perished, being burned alive. Bless his soul. So naive. So suffocated in grief that he cared very little about his captivity and yet where was the fun in that? Tongue swiped his teeth, observing every twitch of muscle, bemused by his suffering. It was kind of perfect wasn’t it? Giving them all a taste of their own medicine. Satisfying in that sort of sick way. Not that they didn’t deserve it. They’d been more than content to prod and poke those in their custody. He’d lost count of the times some agent had tried their luck with him, inserting their finger into his cage. How could he have been responsible for following instinct? He’d never been taught anything but cruelty. Being gentle did not come naturally, especially when trapped in a corner. ( He’d paid the price of course for their blunders, and ah yes, he still had nightmares about that. Not even he was immune to torture. ) Bastards. What had given them the right to think they were above him? To kick him into place and force him to the ground? They were simple-minded, mortal. To him they were in a blip in time. A snippet of existence. Did they honestly believe they could even comprehend his power? Rage kindled, distracting him momentarily and he was thankful to see Rollins spasm, bringing him back to Earth.

Footsteps echoed on the floor as he made his way across the basement, clearing his throat, and when that didn’t work? He had the audacity to take off his Louboutin and throw it at him. Jack woke with a start, bleary eyes, disgruntled to say the least, and he stepped through the force-field and retrieved his shoe with a knowing look in his direction. ( Another nightmare. The stench of his sweat was proof of that, it dripped down his forehead, and he looked cold and clammy. ) For a moment Lucien considered loosening the cuffs around his wrists and giving him some respite, though the hurled insult that was shot his way, took away that consideration of mercy, causing him instead to growl at him. Fucking humans. So ungrateful for what they had. Flipping him off, he checked him over, ignoring his spitting.

‘Stay. Good Rollins.’

A roll of his eyes followed, quick to leave him once sure he’d not harmed himself, and for his own benefit he pressed the panel which triggered the sedative gas, deciding it would be better for him to sleep deep while he was away. Naturally the buffoon attempted to react, to fight it, but the never-ending abyss took him, before he could do too much damage and Lucien was free to proceed with his next plan, extracting intel from another who wouldn’t be so lucky. ( In fact by the time he’d finished with them, he was covered in blood, and had to get changed, their screams having been drowned out by the sound proof walls. ) Not that he gave a fuck, having gotten what he wanted. The last piece of the puzzle. Time to move then. Decision made, he focused on transporting himself out of his own sanctuary, landing abruptly back on Earth. Right next to – 

‘Who the fuck are you?’ 

Lovely. Well he certainly didn’t forget his manners did he? Lucien’s gaze bore into the riff-raff who was attempting to challenge him, a casual wave of his hand sending him flying, without a word. Oops. Of course now they came - Rumlow’s so called guards. Such a pity. ( A smirk graced his lips, making quick work of them, leaving them lined up against the wall, pocketing one of their guns as a souvenir and simply because he could. ) Eventually reaching his destination, he booted in the reinforced door, dismantling the trip wire before it could blow him to kingdom come and surveyed his surroundings with a hum of approval, appreciating the architecture and most of all the weapons - his weakness really.

‘Impressive, no human would have been able to enter here, hm? Did HYDRA teach you that old boy?’

Sure. Dismantling the cannon fodder had been a piece of cake, though finding himself face to face with the so-called terrorist himself, his original intentions of just talking to him, all but evaporated. Fuck it. ( With a movement that couldn’t be anticipated, he appeared behind him; refraining from snapping his neck, as the syringe of specialised  tranquilizer plunged into the back of his throat, the whispered ‘night night’ enough to send shivers down the spine. ) His grip was like a vice, squeezing like a cobra would a rodent and he didn’t loosen his hold until he felt him slump. Even then he didn’t relax, wasting no time in taking his prize.

They landed back at the Lake House, and he slipped the needle from his flesh, disposing of it in a sharps bin, before inspecting him. He hadn’t assumed he would be in great shape, and his suspicions were confirmed, a sigh departing into the air, grabbing his med-pack. ( While Rumlow was out for the count, he worked, patching up what injuries he could before hauling him into the glass prison. Jack was still slumped, peaceful enough, and Lucien fastened the same gear to Brock, the cuffs HYDRA’s own. ) Propping up the ex-commander, he restrained him effectively, keeping his leash tight figuratively at least, before stepping out of the cell, and well it was several hours later when he released the valve, enabling him to come back to consciousness slowly. Though a slap to his face was given to aid this, ignoring Rollins’s sleepy babbles nearby. The other having cocooned himself into a ball.

‘Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey. Someone’s been missing you.’

[fangsforhire]

sesyeuxocean bared their pretty throat : “better get out of my way” . From Sin @pleinsdemuses

‘I’m sorry I must have misheard you, can you repeat that?’ Talk about fucking cheek. The audacity of some people never failed to astound him. Did they simply not understand that he could swat them away like flies? Ugh. It was too easy, too tedious. The majority of species who had the absolute nerve to challenge him were left alive because putting them down wouldn’t be satisfying and yet they were some that just pushed him to breaking point. ( Any mention of HYDRA these days was enough to set his teeth on edge and fuel the fire within. ) The entire organisation needed ripping from it’s foundations and yet to eradicate an idea took careful prep. Cut off one head wasn’t enough for him. He planned on decapitating them all. 

It had started with stalking the big-shots, making them just a little too uneasy. Once they’d upped their security, he’d moved on to freezing their assets, and feeding their enemies intel. ( He was more than happy to play the long game, only increasing the speed when he grew bored or something took precedence. ) Before he knew it, he’d gathered himself quite the collection. The agents had very little hope of ever seeing the light of day, but he wasn’t without mercy. Well not entirely. He’d given them a chance to repent, to atone their sins.

Some of them had chosen to crack their cyanide, others had mocked him, and several had cracked under the pressure, proving that for all their ideologies, they  were nothing but frightened little men. ( The belief that no one left HYDRA, except for a body bag had been proven, it wasn’t merely a rumour and yet to him, it barely made a difference. ) He couldn’t afford to take pity on the weak, on those who had been so susceptible to exploitation, that hadn’t questioned what was right or wrong. The funny thing is, given several decades and shifts of circumstance, he would have once thought HYDRA had the right idea. Yet even someone as sadistic as he was able to see they had gone too far. ( Power had turned them hungry, arrogant. They believed they were bloody invincible, the whole lot of them. ) Take now for instance. Despite her hatred to her so called-father, she still had bluster to challenge him? Stupid, no? Was she not aware of what he was capable of? Did she like them completely underestimate him, or was she just asking for a smack?

‘First of all, Princess. It’s a free country. I’ll go where I please, and second of all? I’m not even in your way. I wasn’t aware you’d even be here. You know why? Cause you aint a special snowflake like your Daddy made you believe, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Jeez, next you’ll be expecting me to play butler and open doors for you – not an invitation by the way.’

[fangsforhire]

Anonymous bare their pretty throat : ❛ have you ever had a recurring dream? ❜ - Bucky

‘Bold of you to assume I sleep there, Buck.’

Hands pushed through hair, eyebrow arching at the somewhat dishevelled figure in the doorway of his bedroom, having left it open a crack just in case the super-soldier became restless and required some kind of grounding. ( He’d learned through Valentin that conditioning often came into play during slumber and so was it a surprise he couldn’t settle? ) HYDRA may be gone, but their trauma was still raw, and adjusting to normality was not so simple. They were accustomed to obeying orders in Russian, even requiring permission to rest. To say it had fucked up his already erratic sleep schedule was an understatement. It was now more hit and miss than ever, whether he managed to take a doze. He’d spent the night sketching wolves for his alter; keeping half an eye on the monitor which displayed Valentin curled up, sedated.

‘Why are you asking anyway? Is it happening to you?’

[fangsforhire]

@ghostsandmirrors asked:“you are unbelievable.” (from buck bcus I miss these two. Also it kinda gave me both 1940s and modern vibes)

‘You are unbelievable.’ The first time those words had been uttered, they’d been blind drunk, waving around empty liquor bottles, about to be drafted to the war, oblivious to the rollercoaster of emotions that awaited them on the battleground. The men around them were loud and rowdy, excited at the prospect of doing their bit for King and country, naive really. ( Lucien had known back then that it wouldn’t be plain sailing. ) War never was, it was messy and left it’s mark on you. That hadn’t been his first and he assumed it wouldnt be his last, but amongst the humans, he’d blended in - forcing himself to down the Daiquiri in his hands. He’d snorted off the sargeants comment. The second time he’d been yelled at - shielding James from an explosion, the spray of shrapnel in the air causing him to grimace. They’d been at it none stop, defending their territory, sore and spent. ( He’d lost count of how many near misses they’d endured, certain that it was only a matter of time before one of them ended up at deaths door. ) He’d sensed the danger long before they’d triggered the trip wires; and instinct had kicked in, becoming an inhuman barricade, spluttering as he threw him across the ground and took the brunt of the damage. He’d gone down fast, knees buckling, and the last thing he’d seen was dust before his vision had rolled back. The third time - that he could remember that was - memories foggy of that time. Had been there, at the hellhole they’d been forced to call home. It had been the soldier who had grunted it, twisting his arm out of place; as he fought against the metal holding him down. ( They’d been sparring and he’d done what he did best, discovered a crack in his armour. He’d struck and taken his opponent by genuine surprise. ) What had followed was the beating of a lifetime; refusing to give in, spitting at superiors as the solider of Winter scolded him, like speaking to a child. No recognition in its eyes. He winced now stood before him, having shed his shirt and stretched. It had been a day, and to say he was in need of a shower was an understatement, scattered in blood, grime and bruises; they adorned his skin, a plethora of colours. ( He’d been reckless enough to take a pair of steel toe caps to the ribs, feeling them shatter upon impact, and then he’d had enough ) - making mince meat of the remains of a HYDRA cell, finally returning after burying their bodies and while the sarcastic response was at the tip of his tongue; it died in his throat. Instead all he could do was nod numbly; overwhelmed by lost recollections.

Yeah he was - he would always be unbelievable. 

[fangsforhire]

becomelions

Well, that reaction wasn’t what he expected. It caused Brock to stop walking himself, to turn partially and look over at the figure as he seemed to process the information Brock had given him. All the former agent could do was nod slowly in reply. It wasn’t something he liked to think about often, especially because it made him think about all the horrible things he could have done under HYDRA’s control. Seemed to be a habit of their’s to have agents forcibly join but what else was a dying organization supposed to do? A hand lifted to wave it off knowing the other had nothing to do with it and therefore didn’t need to apologize. “You’re fine, no need for that.” He huffed out though he was still properly processing the fact the other was serious and actually upset at this piece of information. Maybe it was also because he so wholeheartedly believed him right off the bat. It was refreshing, something Rumlow didn’t think he’d have from anyone who knew him before the whole reveal. What he did know was that he wasn’t sure how many there were like him, but almost all of his STRIKE wing had been either willingly members or in a situation like him. But the conviction in the others words pulled him out of his thoughts and caused Brock to nod once more as he turned to continue their advance towards the base. “I appreciate that man.” He finally replied as they got moving. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

The whole damn world had turned upside down; he felt like a stranger in his own skin; always so certain of himself that he lived and breathed arrogance. It wasn’t often that he was brought back to earth with such a violent jolt, reminded that even he could be devastatingly wrong. Yet there he was, inner turmoil attempting to take over. ( Why hadn’t he considered that if HYDRA were capable of attempting to bend him to their will, a mercenary such as Rumlow would have been a piece of cake? ) He had been so determined to see him as an enemy, to paint every single one of those dickheads with the same brush. Perhaps it had lessened his own regret, but now it returned with a vengeance; leaving him with an itch underneath his skin.

With a lump now lodged in his throat; he proceeded closer towards the base; allowing his senses to spread, the sound of unknowing heartbeats pounding in his ears. Few things could destabilise him but HYDRA. The very mention of them often provoked savagery, and being so close to any of them was far from pleasant. ( On the contrary; he had to fight tooth and nail not to dissociate and allow that part of himself he would empty his bank accounts to be rid of. The remnants of a demoralised asset, begging to go home. ) How the mighty had fallen in their presence. Never again would he allow himself to be the victim like that, to suffer at their hands. Or permit anyone else to take his place. It was time they were eradicated, but how did one erase an idea? 

‘Six up ahead. Several heavily armed judging by the sound of their weight on the ground - standard sniper at two o'clock, damn they aint taking chances. Watch out for the trip wires, and stay low. It’s your call - you want me to distract or dispatch, Commander?’

[fangsforhire]

ghostsandmirrors  bared their pretty throat : ❛ I’m all for sending the message, but this ain’t the way. ❜ (Buck)

‘Then pray tell, Buck. What is?’

Sometimes murder was the only message that one understood, no? It certainly got the point across. Even if it should always be a last resort, according to the likes of the freedom fighters. ( Not that he could blame Bucky for being against it. ) HYDRA had tainted their souls and twisted their ideals. They'd brainwashed him into a merciless machine.

Lucien had witnessed the brutality inflicted by the Winter Soldier back in the sterile labs of Serbia and yet, things were different now. HYDRA weren't breathing down their neck anymore. ( So of course he'd want him to be the better man. Bloody Barnes. ) A heavy sigh departed his lips, knife shoved aside and exchanged for his fists. Fine. They'd do it his way. Hopefully, they wouldn't be spewing fucking Russian by the end of it. He'd had enough of that for a lifetime.

‘Yanno what, never mind. Your call. I'm just along for the ride. So how you wanna approach this?’

[fangsforhire]

@samhlaiocht  followed from | ℒ |

‘Ouch and I thought I was forever ruining the moment.’

A dramatic response was to only be expected, concealing his inner pride, and deeper disappointment. It wasn’t often that he wore his heart on his sleeve, and softened his stance even around like-minded allies. ( For so long he’d believed himself immune to friendship, above compassion. Instead he’d suppressed sentiment, evaded affection. ) It was certainly easier that way; who wanted to console an arsehole? Yet HYDRA had reawakened a yearning for connection, and oh did he loathe it. Take now, his attempt to be genuine had been brushed off, and out came the mask again. A false grin provided back.

‘You are right though. They don’t, nor do they have such shit taste in alcohol. What even is that you’re drinking, mate?’

[fangsforhire]

mlfns said: you said you had answers. - from Bucky

‘I do, they might just be ones you don’t like hm?’

{ Caution had to be exercised where the tortured war hero was concerned, Lucien was above all aware of that fact - accustomed to managing trauma on a similar level. Valentin often had relapses which would leave him mute and unresponsive. ( He’d sit still as stone and only respond when Lucien adopted his HYDRA mindset, allowing harsh tones to bark his way. ) Sometimes the experience was as harrowing for him and in those circumstances; he dissociated. It had had become second nature to bury the anguish. They all had their methods of coping. Bucky wore gloves and hoarded plums and Lucien, well - his tended to be more self-destructive didn’t they? }

‘I’m assuming you’re not talking like in general terms, love?’

{ The sparkle had faded from trade-mark mischievous sapphire blues, gaze lowering as he took a deep, almost cleansing breath, reciting Russian internally - ( knowing better than to speak such language in front of him. ) Instead he rolled his shoulders, preparing himself for the inevitable journey down memory lane, plucking out a cigarette from pristine packet in his jacket and placed it between his lips, taking a deep soulful drag, gesturing at him impatiently. }

‘Shoot - ah - I mean ask away and all that jazz.’

[fangsforhire]

lcstinthewoods said: ❝ you failed me. ❞ from wanda *dramatic music*

‘Failed you?’

{ Venom laced her TONE; power crackling in the air. Her body language however screamed disappointment -  anguish. Standard arrogance was lacking; for at that moment, her grief threatened to choke him, skimming old wounds which burned, close to the surface. ( Had he not loved and lost centuries before? Had his wife and child not perished before his eyes? ) Tongue swept his teeth, unnerved. It had been a long time since he had felt such humanity unexpectedly; the one thing HYDRA had never truly exhumed. It may be FRACTURED; feeble but it lay there; enclosed deep. For there were a time and a place for empathy. For disclosing your soul to another. ( So much safer to be heartless; to keep everyone at arm’s length and say to hell with it all. ) What did caring ever get you? Compassion hadn’t saved her. No, it had swallowed her whole, left her bleeding. Her mourning almost too much to bear.  }

‘I didn’t fail you. You might hurt now but there’s always something to fight for, no? Humanity, HYDRA especially will never understand true power - but you do. I do. It runs through our veins. It is our strength and our weakness. This is the price we pay. You can either rise or fall - that’s your choice, Maximoff. Something they can never take away.’

[fangsforhire]

| ℒ |

~ @becomelions​

{ Some CREDIT had to fucking be bestowed ; Rumlow sure succeeded in surviving. So he didn’t entirely suck but alas, his effort was somewhat futile. ( As commendable as they were, his attempts eluding everything linked to HYDRA inadequate. ) He hadn’t had a hope in hell when certain operatives while burying evidence were out for blood.

Speaking of that delightful substance -

; oh how it now stained immortal skin, DECORATING the ex-asset like war paint, fangs removed from epithelium, the back of his palm swiping his forehead. ( Their last encounter while brief had satisfied him to an extent ) but the need for intel had caused him to pursue him further.

Lucky huh? }

‘You guys are soooooo predictable - it’s disappointing really.’

[fangsforhire]

| ℒ |

~ @infinitexechoes​

Blood oozed from the GASH  lacerating black fur. Crimson a sight to which he was accustomed. Yet in feline form healing, such graphic damage was impracticable; abilities more a hindrance than an asset. ( Alas, patience was paramount, tongue stemming trauma as much as it was able. ) Getting out unscathed had proved troublesome, but current condition could have been worse. Ex-operative, lethal even without arsenal, provided to be a match for the semi-exhausted immortal. Then again his tactics had succeeded; freedom accessible.

Soon he would be back on his feet; returning fire with fire.

Revenge was bittersweet; a basic INSTINCT. Though his motives ran deeper. HYDRA a thorn in his side, a raw burning. There was no realistic alternative other than to eradicate them. Hiding in the shadows an ancient activity of the past. ( No, the sooner crippling afflictions improved, the better. The road to recovery a long and winding road. His fragile mental state being trialled towards the limit. ) Even now ears pricked; jolting at the slightest sound; failing to get comfortable. His location for once unknown; he’d sprinted until he could run no more all but collapsing against an abandoned building; senses on high alert. Hell - it was a good job they were, for footsteps alerted him to a presence; a strange scent wafting his way. 

The fuck was that?

Lips pulled back over his teeth; bearing a SNARL - crouching low as he sniffed the air, trying to detect the origin of the unfamiliar individual. ( Not an agent. One of the tribes from nearby maybe? ) He’d witnessed them in their village although not dared to venture within direct reach. Not just yet; he was binding his time until he could stand straight; his femur fracture roughly on the mend. So who then? He guessed he would eventually find out. So long as he remained motionless, he’d still be undetected, right?

[fangsforhire]

justicetempered : “  you’re being awfully quiet.  ”

‘I’m tired. I don’t mean just physically either Rogers; hell I mean mentally. I’m tired of fighting those fuckers; tired of shit hitting the fan. I’m so damn defeated with it all-cause in the end? It doesn’t even matter.’

{ Fists FLEW against the punching bag; building therapeutic rhythm. Eyes sliding closed; exhaling sharply as lungs tried to shift pent up rage. ( Attention span limited, fatigue like an inferno. )  How many days had he avoided the inevitability of slumber? Exhaustion seeping through worn muscles. Screaming at him to just sleep. }

‘It. doesn’t. matter.’

{ Words were snarled now, CLENCHED knuckles finding their target; repressed memories shoving their way through rather mercilessly. ( Ironic wasn’t it? Half of him yearned for ruthless electricity to seize excruciating recollections. HYDRA’s presence like cancer inside his veins. ) They influenced each decision; horrors taunting behind his eyelids. It was easy to overlook. He hid it well. Shielded by sass and sarcasm. Yet their crumbled faces, their dying shrieks? It was never enough. }

‘I’m just done being a victim. I don’t want to feel like one anymore.’

[fangsforhire]

“Ты не должен быть здесь. Они не будут рады, если увидят вас.”

‘It’s sweet that you think I care.’

{ Heavy duty boots, freshly dragged out for the OCCASION;crushed shards of glass. Unaccompanied cryogenisis tank smashedto smithereens, thrust forwards by considerable force. ( HYDRA would pay in blood, their screams not going to be satisfying enough. Though of coursethey’d predictably dispatch their first line of defence. Nine - stood there, blocking theway to ex-superiors. ) So close he could smell the sweat staining their skin; hear pulsethudding into vein. Were they preparing for lock-down? Unsure what hadinfiltrated them so effortlessly? This time there would no hesitation.He would strike like a cobra - constrict them until there wasno escape. One of their precious pet projectswould have the last laugh. }

‘Доньт гет ин мы щаы.’ Don’t get in my way.

[fangsforhire]

❛ you point that thing at me you better pull the trigger. ❜

WEAPON  BASED  SENTENCE   PROMPTS  . 

‘Don’t-’

{ QUIVERING physique froze like a deer trapped in headlights,unspoken vulnerability making him nauseous. HYDRA demandedperfection with no room for error. Their methods of discipline as heinous as the crimes they forced one to commit. ( Refusing a mission meant you were compromised, resulting in a one-way ticket to the chair, and yet for the first time in decades his mind was completely accessible. ) Repressed memories tugging at whatlittle conscience he’d ever possessed. }

‘Don’t test me.’

{ Harsh WARNING betrayed his conflict, exhaling sharplyas shaking hands fought to steady the gun in his grasp. Currently -aimed at the cameras surveying the scene. ( It had been a test of willsand his failure was palpable. Brock had been disarmed with an effortlessmove. ) Backup was closing in - their footsteps deafening against tilesoutside. The obstacle he’d placed barricading the door; temporary.Soon agents would be flooding the room and his chance to reedem himself would be taken. }

‘Call them off - I haven’tlost control yet.’

[fangsforhire]

UPDATED VERSE / TIMELINE TAGS;

[fangsforhire]

justicetempered said: ❝ You’re always so dramatic. ❞

‘Hm and you should be named Captain obvious.’

{ Feigning mock-horror in a THEATRICAL manner; smug smirk spread like butter wouldn’t fucking melt. Having been loudly demonstrating HYDRA’s next moves. Complete with Russian accents and explicit sketches. ( Apparently, stars and stripes didn’t approve. ) Oh well. He wasn’t about to lose sleep over affronting the righteous. It was time the naive woke up. HYDRA wasn’t done. }

‘Just don’t come runnin’ to me when things go souther than Virginia.’