#brain: handler curt

[meyerlansky]

lowkey wanna write more puppy bucky but don't have any other ideas 😞

[musette22]

Hey Minnie, hope you're well. I love the discussions people are having about civil war Bucky even now. Though part of it makes me feel annoyed (not at you or anyone else here but at Marvel).

It really sucks seeing all the effort Marvel put in to make Bucky less sympathetic after Winter Soldier. In that movie, we saw Bucky completely vulnerable and alone and scared - a victim through and through. Which makes it so weird that leading up to cw the Russos kept saying stuff like 'Is Bucky a dangerous assassin or the world's longest serving pow?' 'Is he a killing machine or can he be Steve's friend again?' Like my guys, you already answered this in the previous movie! Especially when the first real scene we're given of Bucky is him buying plums at a market and smiling at the seller. How terrifying 🙄

Even the torture scenes are wildly different. In catws we see Bucky getting backhanded by his abuser followed by his terrified reaction to the machine. We saw him trembling, breathing heavily, saw the whites of his eyes and heard him whimper before he started screaming. The scene in cw is very . . . distant in comparison. There's a mask covering his face so we can't see his expression and the chair puts him in a much less vulnerable position. (And why include a torture scene if you're trying to leave it up to debate if he's innocent? They could've written him like 616 Bucky, who wasn't tortured and just had his memory erased. He still had a personality and autonomy to fight back against his handlers. Mcu Bucky had none of that).

Also I really hate the retcon of the code words. They should've kept the story from catws - the mind wipes + torture + drugs + brainwashing techniques. It was so much more complex and interesting and showed how bad it was for him. But then cw changed it to 'there's a switch we can flip in his brain to turn him into an uncontrollable killing machine when it's convenient'. It didn't add anything to the story, it was just a tool to make Bucky look more dangerous and to give a reason for him to be shoved in a freezer at the end. It also made it like getting rid of the code words just got rid of the trauma and pain that hydra gave him. (Even though after the code words were removed he was treated like he'd suddenly snap and kill everyone. Stupid writing).

And don't get me started on all the obvious rewrites, done to make Bucky look more dangerous and to stamp #nohomo all over Steve and Bucky. The soft, gentle 'Buck, do you know me?' versus the curt 'Which Bucky am I talking to?' There's some other really stupid dialogue, like when Steve and Sam are talking about Bucky. Sam suggests Nat is right in her saying Steve should not help/protect Bucky. Steve says 'He'd do it for me,' to which Sam replies 'In 1945 maybe.' The problem with this is at the end of catws, Bucky, with almost no memory of Steve, injured and scared, saved Steve from drowning, even though he'd been trying to kill him just before. So Bucky has proven he'd be there for Steve in the same way, well after 1945, which makes Sam's statement ridiculous.

Or the scene where Steve tries to tell Bucky what happened with Hydra wasn't his fault and Bucky says "I know. But I did it,' and Steve doesn't look at him and doesn't reply, which makes it look like he agreed with the notion that Bucky had responsibility. Earlier in the same movie Steve refuses to let Wanda blame herself for the incident in Lagos, so why can't he do the same for Bucky? #Nohomo. (Btw I don't blame either Sam or Steve here, it's not their fault the writing is atrocious).

This is why I'm the same as you Minnie, I refuse to regard a lot of the mcu canon. In my head Steve and Bucky went on the run together before getting their names cleared and enjoying a peaceful retirement together with Alpine.

Even though I can't bring myself to care, I'm genuinely happy that some fans enjoyed Thunderbolts. After all Marvel has done, we deserve something good, or at least decent. It's just that, to me, the whole 'supportive friendship' thing from Thunderbolts just rings hollow. Especially when they never properly addressed any of the trauma with the original avengers. It was either ignored or played off as jokes. Thunderbolts just feels like too little too late.

Sorry for this massive rant, you've just got a really good supportive space here and I appreciate that.

Hi lovely!! Apologies for taking a little while to answer this, sometimes shorter asks are easier to answer quickly, but it's definitely not because I didn't appreciate this ask, because I absolutely did!!

I can't tell you how interesting this was to read, or how much I agree with everything you said here. You make SUCH good point about Civil War and some of the terrible writing in that movie. The trigger words thing especially, but also the stupid dialogue and obvious rewrites (I hate the "which ;ucky am I talking to" line too 😒). I just completely agree - there's a reason I've only seen CW once or twice.

I'm also right there with you when it comes to disregarding canon and rewriting Steve and Bucky's ending in a way that actually makes sense for them and lets them be together the way they absolutely would have been if marvel/disney hadn't decided to no homo the shit out of them. I also feel your sentiments re: Thunderbolts (though tbh I don't really know anything about the plot or dynamic between the characters, so I can't say much about that).

And please don't apologise, you're welcome share your thoughts anytime, especially when they're as interesting as these are! I'm glad this blog feels like a supportive space for that ❤️

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

weekend prompt: millinda and unintentionally ominous looming

Millinda is growing in my brain from 'haha how would these two interact' into 'oh Miller is her pet piece of wet bread.' I'm going to end up writing Blue Team makes Miller a real Spartan eventually, I just know it. Thanks for the prompt! (It got away from me)

-

Miller was finding that working with Blue Team, while incredibly stressful, was also incredibly rewarding. He felt like he was behind the camera of a nature documentary, watching in real time as the S-IIs wordlessly and flawlessly took down their prey. There was some chatter on TEAMCOM, but it was mostly from him doing overwatch.

Again, they adapted to the drills and scenarios immediately, including him and listening to what he had to say. His intel mattered. He mattered. There was no mistaking himself as part of Blue Team, but they had him at their disposal and made use of him. He helped before shit hit the fan and he wasn't playing catch up. Even if he left each session with Blue Team exhausted. Wire tight tension and the utmost focus for a prolonged period of time left his head hurting. Miller was being pushed to the limit and he liked it. Training with the best was like opening a door he never knew was closed to him. Troop movements and team cohesion and every other significant detail flashing across his screens let him direct them and grow.

That's how he found himself socializing with them beyond the desk job. Spartan Town was only so big. Blue Team was full of natural leaders, and their reputation preceded them by a country mile. That's why Miller was flabbergasted when Linda 058 singled him out.

"You want me as your handler?" He tries not to stammer.

The height difference between them was negligible but the confidence coming off Blue-4, Linda 058, was overwhelming. Jared could find some steel in his spine when it mattered, but not in the face of her many goggled helmet or piercing green eyes. It wasn't that she saw him and found him lacking - he got that from others - she pinned him in place with a look and left him feeling exposed. Like she could go for the kill in an instant.

She nods. "One sortie. Low risk. Training exercise."

Miller's dumbfounded. This is the chance of a lifetime, but the what-ifs are already shutting down his higher thought processes with anxiety.

"A solo op with me as overwatch? What about your team?" He grasps for some kind of stability to add to the conversation.

"Don't need a babysitter." She says resolutely.

"Wait, is this for me?"

"Training exercise." She says again, with a curt nod.

"Yes, I guess." Miller agrees and Linda nods again, barely a lift of her chin in acknowledgement and then she leaves abruptly.

And that's how Miller gets to see Linda 058 patrol the edges of Banished space. The factions were a mess and who better to recon than the Lone Wolf herself. It was easy to sneak an Owl down to drop off a single Spartan. Local flora masking her presence as soon as her boots hit the ground.

The mission goes well, for once. Miller is both by the book and trusting his gut. He doesn't chatter incessantly out of nerves, something he prides himself on after the fact. Instead he finds himself copying Linda's silent focus while keeping an eye on the bigger picture she cannot see. It's a weird feeling. One he can't label until it hits him.

Trust.

Snipers don't go out in the field alone, unless they are exceptional. Linda let him see what that felt like.

He makes calls and marks points of interest, and even a few dropships. She trusts him to watch her back. In return, he has to trust her to make the right call. She goes closer to enemy fortifications than he'd ever want his S-IV Fireteams to go without proper intel.

"Blue-4, you're getting too close for quick extraction."

She flashes green once over comms. A moment passes and she flashes acknowledgement twice.

Enemy Detected.

Linda becomes a shadow in the underbrush and Miller goes into overdrive. He doesn't flood her HUD with markers, but notes her approach, the flight vectors the Banished Phantoms are following, and the warping on the helmet cam.

Cloaking.

Miller squeezes every bit of intel out of the situation without impacting Blue-4's focus or giving away her position. He finds himself breathing in time with her. Slow and even, her vitals present onscreen barely show an uptick while he finds his own heart racing. She has her job and he has his. He does it and he waits.

The warping goes away, moving along the ridge line overlooking the Banished outpost.

Linda slinks back into the vegetation and towards evac. Neither of them let down their guard until lift-off.

Miller congratulates her, more out of habit than necessity and thanks her for the opportunity. It feels like brown-nosing, but the "thanks" she flashes back makes it worth it.

The mission was a success, and Miller relaxes - his second mistake. The first was agreeing to the mission in the first place. His third is having a publicly posted schedule on S-Deck with his fireteams' schedules. His fourth was discussing the mission and how to improve within earshot of Linda, not that he noticed her there.

Blue Team was no help. Kelly smiled at him when he approached them about Linda's newfound habit of popping up near him, randomly, at all hours. Miller had gained a second shadow, one that loomed over him and took his dessert when he wasn't looking.

"Working on your situational awareness." She had said.

He had yet to scream on comms, but it was a near thing when he noticed her in the vents of the Op Center. At this rate, Roland was going to get jealous over someone else competing for "who can give Miller a headache fastest?"

Miller just wanted his dessert and peace of mind back.

[creekfiend]

Hey getting into dogs is. Hard. It is so hard. Oh my god

Like no one has even been particularly mean to me or anything, the worst the breeders and handlers I try to talk to do is just ghost me or be curt, but like.. It... Is so hard??? Crying spontaneously at 2 am trying to word an email to someone in a breed I wanna get into even though I have been taking all my meds religiously for weeks hard! I just! Already my brain always thinks that everyone thinks I am stupid and ignorant and overeager and impulsive

And this is like cranking that up to 50000

And I just.. Want... To talk to ppl... About dogs...

Ive spent like. A year trying to learn everything I can about everything but there is so much and its really overwhelming like the stakes are lower when youre converting to MOST RELIGIONS

im losing it :(((

[stompingdaisies]

I have been consumed by brain rot once again so take this assassin Kai au/Umbrella Academy crossover (ft. Kai working for The Commission)

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

When Kai is 11, just a little shy of turning a year older, a hurricane of black sweeps into the tiny little mountain town he calls home; she calls herself The Handler, pincurls of platinum and red lips that quirk in a knowing and mischievous way. The fabric of her dress crinkles as she bends down to help him pick up the book he dropped, and when they make eye contact, she winks in a manner that says she knows something he does not, and it intrigues him so, *burning* itself into the back of his mind. When they see each other as the sun sets across the horizon, she whispers of the ways she can teach him to protect the family he has left (Nya, who can kick and bite as much as she can get dragged away screaming), of how there’s a million and one ways that chain could go if he disagrees. As moonlight finally blankets the cobblestone streets, Nya tucked away with an old family friend, she whisks them off in a swirling vortex of blue and white.

From there, everything feels like it passes by in a blur, fragments of time disjointed by the smell of gun smoke and shells before bodies like halos. The Commission treats him well enough, his fellow assassins sometimes stopping to make empty space filling chatter before warping away for jobs; the sound of briefcase clasps snapping open becoming somewhat of a comfort. The Handler parades him up and down the halls, calls him her most prized weapon, hands him the finest pistols and blades that her near endless money can buy. He’s fifteen when he puts in his notice of temporary leave, just as the desks where the requests all come from begin to whisper about a man (not quite a boy) who comes from the apocalypse; Five and Kai share a nod of understanding when they pass by one another in the halls. The crinoline of her familiar (and favorite) little black dress presses against his legs, mutterings of luck whispered in his ears as he’s pushed out, with nothing but his official briefcase and the clothes on his back.

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

Nya asks questions, they all do, but he keeps everything sealed away, going back to his job as a blacksmith like nothing ever changed (the feel of fire against his skin reminds him too much of the mansion he set ablaze once, no survivors save for him, the briefcase, and the waiter uniform kept as his disguise). The old man who speaks to them one day has his finely honed sense of intuition *screaming*, but his offer of protection is something Kai thinks neither he or his sister (his precious baby sister, the one who doesn’t quite know how big a *monster* the brother she always looked up to really is) would refuse the offer to. They travel when the sun just peaks over the edge of the night sky, climbing up the mountain with skill not quite matched; (Kai has had to do an awful lot of climbing in the years he is away). A boy who smells of oil arrives around the time they do, he easily strikes up a conversation with Nya, leaving Kai to sort his thoughts; a familiar weight in his hand keeps him grounded, a metal canister hitting something makes his heart drop, his sister eyeing him with much suspicion. Time seems like it’s dragging on forever as two others join them, shop set up as quick as possible.

They start out rough, they wonder just how Kai can seem to move faster, be sneakier, than what he seemed at first. When they all fall into a restful slumber, nobody quite notices the footsteps that lead out to the training deck, or the whirling spiral of blue and white that disappears as fast as it comes. Her heels against the tiled floor are aptly welcomed, a hand on his shoulders with nails that dig in. Hazel and Cha-Cha greet him as he’s heading back out, curt nods as he warps away once more, a finger on the trigger for his silenced beretta, the other thumbing at the clasps to take him back home.

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Oh my god they were roommates

You are forced to take over the monitoring of Loki. Snapshots from the life of being a god handler.

It’s weird how a phrase or sentence can inspire a whole story. In this case it was “A polished turd is a turd nonetheless.” This is what grew from it. The whole story is almost 13.000 words long, so I felt I had to split it into parts. I will post the next part tomorrow.

If you like it, let me know. Knowing that people enjoy my writing is what keeps me posting my stories.

Word count: 2051

Part 1

_______________________________________________________________________

Walking through the huge glass doors, you almost stopped and turned around. Any other time the music would at the very least have you tapping your toes, but not this time. Even the ridiculously expensive DJ could not turn your mood upside down.

You looked around the room. Of course they had cleared a space for dancing. Stark’s lavish parties always had lots of people dancing, and those who weren’t inclined to rock to the music could watch the night over the city through the massive windows.

The city looked like a twinkling Christmas ornament against the dark sky. Below, cars sped to and from, creating colourful lines of light in the raindrops on the glass. This was exactly how you felt. The calm rain washed the outside of the building while the loud chaos raged inside. Breathing in and out, you decided to hide in the corner, have one drink, and then head home to a date with Netflix and your pyjamas.

What on earth had made you think that attending a party filled with happy people would keep your heartbreak away? It hurt more than it should. Yes, Tommy was an asshole, you realised that now, but it was so hard to let go of the past two years. A part of you missed him, but you weren’t at all sure if you missed him or if it was just the lack of somebody there. You hoped it was the latter. If not, you needed to have a stern talking-to with yourself. In any case: procuring a drink was the next point on your agenda.

You shuffled through the crowd, wanting to be anywhere else, but you had said you would come, and you always kept your promises. You drew a deep breath and turned to the bar, where you bumped into Loki and his handler, Ben Reed.

Looking at them, you felt even more awkward with your plain, black skirt and blouse. Loki, like everyone else, was wearing black, but the details of his suit and the way he held himself made him look extra dashing and out of place. Standing next to Agent Reed, even more so.

If you squinted, you could just about make out the snakes winding and slithering over the lapels of his jacket, just barely visible when the light hit just right. Most likely sorcery, you thought, and felt bad for Ben, who looked no more than average compared.

“Good evening, Y/N,” Loki said with a polite smile. “Are you here alone tonight?”

“Yes.” Your reply was short and curt, and Loki knew better than to pry.

Agent Reed, however, did not. He looked you up and down. “What’s the matter, Y/N? You look like someone stole your toy.”

You pulled self-consciously on your skirt, slipping the heel of your shoes on and off. “Tommy dumped me last week,” you replied, surprised that it didn’t bring tears to your eyes, and hoping that the information would make him back off. You were in no mood to deal with him today.

You didn’t have anything in particular against Ben as such, it’s just that he had little to no compassion for others, and he had a little too much fun being a power hungry know-it-all. Okay, so maybe you had something against him after all. But you tolerated him because you were co-workers. And you liked being around Loki. Despite his closed-off demeanour and his violent past, he made you laugh with his weird humour and stories.  You wouldn’t go so far as to call yourselves friends, but you did enjoy his company at least.

“What?” Reed exclaimed without real feeling. “But he was such a handsome man. You looked so good together.”

You opened your mouth to tell him to kindly fuck off, but Loki beat you to it. “A polished turd is a turd nonetheless, Agent.” He turned to you and inclined his head slightly. “If you require my assistance, fair Y/N, I know several ways to maim and disembowel someone without taking their lives –“ He winked at you, but Reed frowned.

“Now now, Loki. You are still on probation, remember? Talk like that can get you in trouble.”

You rolled your eyes. “Only if you rat on him, Ben. It’s not Loki’s fault you’ve no humour.” Turning back to Loki, you were smiling for the first time in what felt like ages. “Thank you, but no thanks. I greatly appreciate the offer, but Tommy doesn’t deserve another thought from me.”

“I wholeheartedly agree. Maybe you would like to accompany the Agent and myself? There is an empty table over there. What would you like to drink?”

You caught the eyes of the bartender, who sidled over to the three of you. “One rum and coke. With a lime wedge, please. Thank you.”

Holding up a finger, Benjamin nodded. “Beer.”

“And for you?” the bartender asked Loki.

“Brillet, please. Grande Champagne, if you have.”

A couple of minutes later, you were making your way to the empty table, just far enough from the biggest crowds to be able to talk, but close enough that you could zone out without it turning too awkward.

The evening turned out a lot better than you feared. One drink turned to two, turned to three, and the conversation flowed freely, only interrupted by loud outbursts of laughter. You even bobbed your foot to the music.

“Please excuse me,” Loki said, rising from the table. “Oh, no need to follow,” he added when Reed moved to get up too. “I just have to visit the restroom. Don’t worry. You’d know it if I tried anything.” He lifted his trouser leg slightly to reveal a sleek, black device. You knew they were monitoring him, but an ankle bracelet?  So many questions filled your brain.

Reed seemed satisfied, and lowered himself back into the chair. Once Loki was out of earshot, he blew out a loud breath. “Jesus! I’m so sick of this. Following his every move. That goddamn weaselly face of his… I swear I’ll go mental one day!”

You frowned. It couldn’t be that bad. “You don’t have to follow him, you know. I’m sure he’s –“

“Loki is a war criminal, Y/N. He’ll never be a good citizen; evil is in his spine. But I guess you’re too blinded by his charm to see it.”

That was unnecessary harsh, you thought. Since the invasion of New York you had never seen Loki do anything illegal, and you were a firm believer in second chances and judging by what people did rather than what they had done. Reed, on the other hand… Apparently he held grudges, and when he decided he didn’t like you, well, then everybody knew it.

When Loki came back, looking fresh as always, Reed got to his feet. “I’m sure you can keep an eye at him,” he said to you, nodding to Loki. “I’m gonna…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but ploughed his way through the crowd towards a beautiful redhead dancing on her own by the DJ booth.

“Wow, that was sudden,” you said with a smile. “Not that I’m sad he left.”

Loki nodded, a smug smile spreading over his face. “I’m afraid he doesn’t like me very much.”

You watched as Reed tried and failed to grab the woman’s hand. A giggle escaped before you caught yourself, and you turned back to Loki. “Why? I mean, there’s the… but you’ve been very well behaved after, and he wasn’t even stationed in New York.”

Loki sipped his cognac, watching Reed’s efforts with amusements. “Well, he’s not very good with the ladies,” he said as if that would explain everything.

You gestured for him to continue.

“Last month he asked out a colleague, Annette was her name, I believe, but she turned him down. Rather harshly too, I’m afraid.”

“Oh? How?” You felt curiosity grow in your chest. His luck with the ladies couldn’t have anything to do with Loki, but then you remembered his comment earlier.

Loki shrugged just as the woman was joined by her friends, taking Reed by surprise. You both snorted into your drinks. “She told him that she would rather go on a date with me than spend an evening with him.”

“Ouch.”

“That is the correct term, yes. Ever since, his behaviour towards me has been increasingly colder.”

“Not your fault, though,” you offered, swinging your glass a little too vigorously, sloshing the drink over the edge. “Ben is rude. He doesn’t understand – see?”

The redhead slapped him hard across the cheek and turned to her friends, who were all laughing. Fuming, he returned to the table, and you hastily tried to look like you hadn’t been watching.

“Come on,” he growled, gesturing to Loki. “It’s time to go.”

Looking between them, you frowned. You weren’t at all ready to end the evening, and you were contemplating suggesting that you could take custody of Loki for the reminder of the night, but that probably weren’t a good idea anyway.

“Have a pleasant rest of the evening, Y/N,” Loki said, lifting your hand to his lips with a wink. Behind his back you could practically see smoke billowing from Ben’s ears. “Until our next meeting.”

It didn’t take long to finish your drink and call for a cab. The sudden stop to your talk with Loki reminded you that you came to the party alone, and that thought sent a wave of sadness and anger through you, and a short car ride later, you aggressively kicked off your shoes and stomped to bed without removing your makeup or clothes.

A week later you were sitting by your desk, trying to plot numbers into an Excel spreadsheet and not dying of boredom, when Miriam from floor three handed you a thick envelope. “You’ve got a mission,” she said before hurrying back to the elevator.

You opened the folder and pulled out a good pile of papers stamped CONFIDENTIAL in bright, red ink. Most of them contained notes and reports on Loki: his crimes and his progress, and you skimmed through it. As far as you could see he had done nothing to warrant suspicion the last three years, only minor pranks and general mischief, most of which, to be frank, you found hilarious.

The four last pages of the document contained a rough outline of a plan, and notes on Loki’s magic. A yellow post-it fluttered to the floor. When you picked it up, it revealed a time and location for a meeting. A quick glance at your calendar made you sweat. Tomorrow.

Loki was already there when you arrived, coffee in hand. Considering how he had treated the other agents (and to be fair, you couldn’t really blame him), you had decided to try to start on his good side, so you brought him a coffee as well.

“Morning,” you yawned, sliding the styrofoam cup over the table. It was too early to warrant a full sentence yet.

“Good morning, Y/N.” His voice was silky and suspicious. Clearly he hadn’t been informed of the change yet. You wondered if it was intentional, or if Agent Reed had just upped and fucked off the second he got the all clear.

Director Fury waltzed into the room moments later, followed by two agents you had never seen before. “Good. You’re both here. Please have a seat, Agent Y/N,” he added when you got to your feet.

Loki narrowed his eyes. “What the hell is going on, Fury?”

You swallowed, hoping your first task wouldn’t be cleaning up a showdown between the two. Because you were pretty certain it wouldn’t be pretty.

Fury smirked. “I have good news for you. Agent Reed resigned.”

You felt your face twitch as Loki leaned back into his chair and visibly relaxed. It was difficult to decipher his face, but you thought you could see a drop of relief in his eyes.

“However,” Fury continued, “I think you know we can’t just let you roam free. You have still to prove your allegiance. So I have assigned a new agent to keep you company.”

Nodding, you gave Loki a tight-lipped smile and a small salute with your coffee cup. Behind you the two agents tightened their grips on whatever weapons they were carrying.

Needing to diffuse the tension, you threw out your arms. “Tadaa. Could be worse, right?”

Loki remained silent, and you prayed he wouldn’t blow up. After a couple of uncomfortable minutes, he seemed to sink back in his chair. “Could be worse.”

Fury slid a folder across the table. “Good. That’s that out of the way. Do try to be a little excited, Loki. I thought you didn’t get along with Agent Reed.”

Loki caught the folder and read through the assignment. Once he was done, he groaned and rolled his eyes.

“We are in the process of finding a new apartment for you,” Fury said, ignoring Loki’s silent protest. “There is little in the vicinity of Y/N, but we will have a place ready within the next week or so.”

You looked at Loki, slumped in the chair, and Fury, oblivious to what was the real problem here. “Um, I have a suggestion,” you began, feeling all eyes on you and squirming in your seat. “If you need me to be closer… How about I move instead? It’s no problem for me to rent out my apartment. I have no sentimental ties to it, especially after…” You cleared your throat, shoving the memories of finding Tommy on your couch with some random chick to the back of your mind. What he had thought bringing her to your place instead of his own you didn’t know, but then again he had been absolutely sloshed. “Anyway, I’m sure it’s easier for me to move to the other side of the city?”

Hoping Fury would at least consider it, you glanced at Loki through the corner of your eyes. His back sat straighter, and he had moved to the edge of his seat. Maybe it would be a bearable arrangement after all.

“I’m sorry,” Fury said. “We have no one to relocate in that area. But…” He suddenly got a sly look in his eye. “Loki. You have a spare room, do you not? That would make it much easier for us.”

“What? Absolutely not!” His face clouded over, and you could practically sense the fire in his eyes. Okay, so this wouldn’t be easy after all.

What followed was a staring contest that would have even the testosterone filled tomcat slinking away to hide under the stairs. But eventually Loki inhaled and rubbed his temples. It looked like he mouthed “Fine,” but other than that he gave no indication that he was okay with the arrangement.

“So that’s decided. How soon can you move, Y/N?”

Feeling slightly dizzy from the power display that just played out, you hesitated. “Uh… whenever, really. Depends how much I have to bring with me.”

Part two

_______________________________________________________________________

Tagging the peeps who have shown interest: 

@80percentmarvel @tardis-is-mine @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte

[weirdlyokaywithit]

Soldier? Part 1

I watched him on the monitor, he was quick and methodical. Never thinking twice and acting on pure raw instinct, he killed mercilessly.

“Well, what’s your assessment?”

I scoffed and turned to look at Steve, he was watching me intently.

“That’s a joke, right?”

Steve shook his head and I turned back to the monitor.

“He’s a killing machine. Strong, calculated, smart. If you can find a way to keep his madness at bay, he’d be an asset,” I spoke, my eyes never leaving the soldier.

Steve moved beside me and clicked a button on the dashboard, the monitor changed and showed the subject locked in a containment cell.

“He’s here?” My eyes searching Steve’s.

He gave a curt nod, and I turned my eyes back to the screen. The subject was sitting on the bed, his eyes never leaving the door. His body was taut and he was tense, probably assessing the situation for a way out.

“Why am I here, Steve?” I tore my eyes away from the monitor to search his face.

“Fury recommended you for this. He said your background in this type of situation would come in handy,” he couldn’t meet my eyes when he said it.

My background meaning that when Fury found me, I was a brainwashed psychopath who tried to kill anything that moved. I wasn’t fortunate enough to have been brainwashed by Hydra, my organization didn’t have the sense to give me a handler who could neutralize me. Fury and Banner worked with me to cage my demons so that I could function as a normal person, well as normal as you can be when you’re genetically enhanced. It took five years.

“Steve, this could take a long time,” I said, my voice small.

“It’s a good thing I’ve got time then.”

“It took me five years to get functional.”

When Steve’s eyes met mine I could see the pain in them, he knew this man. Or at least who he used to be.

“Might as well start now then,” I sighed.

Steve looked alarmed, “You’re ready for that?”

I chuckled.

“Steve, I’m still enhanced. He can try to kill me but it won’t work.”

Steve nodded looking relieved, “Containment room C.”

I turned on my heel and left the screening room, when the door shut behind me I exhaled softly. My boots clicked on the tile floor as I made my way to see him.

I stretched my arms and rolled my shoulders, stopping in front of the guarded wing. The two guards nodded and pressed a few buttons to let me through. A loud buzzer sounded and the wing door slid open, I stepped through into the white hallway.

I inhaled deeply in front of containment room C, the door was no joke, it looked to be two foot thick. I hit the red button next to the door and leaned over to scan my iris. The door clicked and I slid it open enough to let myself through and the shut it behind me.

The subject was now standing against the back wall of the room, blue eyes watching me with distrust. His long dark hair was hanging somewhat in his face, his arms were crossed against his chest. The metal of his arm glinting under the fluorescent lights, the dark scrubs they had him in didn’t hide his physique.

I pressed my back against the door, my hands hung by my sides palms facing outward. To show him that I had nothing to hurt him with.

“What do you want?” His voice was gruff and full of disgust.

“Me? I want nothing from you. They want me to see if I can clear the fog on your mind,” I spoke clearly.

His eyes narrowed and his face twisted.

“I don’t care what they want, so whatever you try it’s not going to work,” he spat.

I shrugged, “Then it won’t work.”

He seemed taken aback by this, and his eyes never left me as I pulled the metal chair from the desk and sat down.

We sat staring at each other for an hour, blinking and breathing but never backing down.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.

His eyes narrowed, “I’m not an idiot, they put sedatives in my food.”

I briefly flinched, I knew how those felt in your system. No control, hazy, unable to move.

“No sedatives when you’re with me.” I spoke with so much graveness in my voice that he cocked his head at me.

I clicked the com button on my sleeve and spoke loud enough for him to hear.

“Bring me a meal. No sedatives or I’m kicking someone’s ass. I’m serious.”

He never moved from the wall until the food came and he pushed off of it and stood ready to hurt someone. The guard handed me the tray and swiftly closed the door behind him.

I looked down at the food they brought, spaghetti with green beans and bread. I grabbed the fork, stirred the spaghetti and took a huge bite. He watched intently as I did the same with the green beans and bread. I took a swig of the water and set it on the tray and then put the tray on the floor in the middle of the room.

He waited five minutes before making a move for the tray, watching me intently to see if there was anything laced into the food.

He sat on the floor against the wall and ate quickly, watching me all the same.

When he was done he pushed the tray to the middle and resumed his position against the wall.

“Did you kill them?” I asked quietly.

His eyes flashed with something before he spoke. “Who?”

“The ones who did this to you.”

He nodded firmly and then looked away from my eyes. Like he was ashamed.

“I did too,” I admitted quietly.

His head snapped up and curiosity was in those sapphire eyes.

“I was 12 when they found me. My parents had died in a fire, no other family. An orphan. No one to care if I went missing. They took me and experimented on me, brainwashed me, turned me into a soldier.”

I couldn’t read his expression but I could sense that he wanted me to go on.

“I was 15 when Fury found me, at that point I’d killed countless people. I was so mindless that I would attack anything that moved. I got locked in a room similar to this until they could undo what had been done to my brain. It took a year for me to stop attacking things that moved. Two more for me to assess and identify friendly forces. And another two for me to operate in the field without reverting.”

“I don’t want to operate in the field.” His voice was quiet.

My eyes found his and my heart squeezed at what they saw, a broken man who wanted to be left alone.

“I thought the same thing. But there is no getting out for people like us.”

He looked down at his arm and his face twisted. When he looked back up at me, his face was blank and his eyes were cold.

“I want out.”

Here we go, I thought to myself.

“I know,” I responded.

He stepped away from the wall and closer to me. I didn’t move from the chair, if he was going to hurt me I wasn’t going to provoke him into it.

He stalked closer to me, and leaned down into my face. His features were perfectly sculpted, he was handsome. No questioning it.

“Let. Me. Out.” His words were harsh and said through clenched teeth.

I didn’t flinch or react, I calmly shook my head and looked into his ocean eyes.

His metal arm glinted as he grabbed my shirt, he leaned in closer until we were scant centimeters apart.

“I’m. Not. Asking.” He bit out angrily.

I opened my mouth to respond and his eyes shot down to my lips. His pupils dilated and his brow furrowed.

“I can’t let you out, James.” I spoke softly.

He stared at my mouth, brow furrowed and fist still clenching my shirt. His eyes darting back and forth like he was trying to figure out something.

“James...” He said quietly.

His head reared back slightly and I flinched, anticipating him to head butt me.

“I don’t-... I don’t like being called that...” He spoke like his words surprised him.

I hid my smile and said, “What do you like being called?”

His grip on my shirt tightened and his brow furrowed deeper. His mouth opened and his tongue ran along his bottom lip.

“Bucky?” He said tentatively. As if it was a question.

I nodded and spoke softly, “Okay, Bucky, I cant let you out of here.”

His eyes met mine but he wasn’t looking at me, he was lost in a world of his own. His hand released me shirt and he stepped back and sat on the bed.

I slowly rose from the chair and walked to stand in front of him.

“Do you remember anything?” I asked softly.

His looked up at me, and what I saw sent chills down my spine. A broken man forced to do things, confused and angry but not sure where to go. He was lost.

“I can’t remember who I am. But... I think I was good. There’s little ticks I still have... that I can’t place.” He spoke slowly.

I nodded, and slowly reached my hand out to touch his shoulder. Before it landed, his metal hand shot out and grabbed my wrist and shoved me backward. Hard. My back hit the desk and I hissed with the impact.

“I.. I don’t like to be touched.” He was half standing, like he was readying for an attack.

I straightened and rolled my shoulders and nodded.

“I’ll be back tomorrow... Bucky.” And then hit the red button by the door. The door clicked and I slid it open so I could slip out. Once I closed the door I collapsed against it.

I exhaled with a mixture of relief and satisfaction. So far he was doing a lot better than I had, that’s good news for Steve.

I shoved off the door and exited the wing and abruptly crashed into a wall of muscle. I looked up into blue eyes, I stepped back as Steve reached out to steady me.

“How did it go? Are you okay?” He asked eagerly.

“Well, he’s doing a lot better than I was when I started. He did shove me but it’s my own fault. I reached out to touch him, not a good call. I think I’ve established trust between him and I. Although it’s going to take several more sessions before he’s going to open up.” I divulged.

Steve was nodding intently and listening to my plan on how to get him to slowly want to interact.

“Also, no sedatives. Period. Ever. They should never have been given to someone like him who suffers with control.” I said the words very harshly.

Steve looked guilty but I wasn’t backing off, Bucky already had trust issues as long as the Nile River and sedatives made it worse.

“We didn’t know what to do, we couldn’t get him to calm down,” Steve’s voice was thick with guilt.

“Sedatives have been used on him for years, he’s coming out of a fog that’s lasted decades. We have to establish trust. No more. From now on, I will be in charge of what happens to him. For everything,” I said.

Steve nodded and his expression brightened slightly, “So you’re staying to help?”

“I’ll stay but I get whatever I want. And I want no one questioning my methods.”

“Done.”

—————————————————————————

That’s all for this part!

[lokikingofasgardslover713]

10} Penance

BIG THANKS TO @prettybubblesintheair for the aesthetic!

Masterlist

Keeper of Mischief & Thunder Masterlist

Vampire!Loki Laufeyson x Vampire Plus!Size Reader x Vampire!Thor Odinson

Warnings: Blood, SMUT! GORE! ANGST!

A/N: We learn how the damage is handled and the fate of the reader. You want like the outcome either.

Words: +2,300

Calloused fingers that could only belong to Thor laced harshly into bed head as lips where forced to his viciously swallowing Y/N whimper of surprise registering it was just her & Thor. The blonde god quick to pull waking body to straddle eager cock that excitedly prodded at soft cunt as the dazed creature was trying to comprehend he was fucking her awake.

“Just us goddess,” husky, hungry voice breathed out as he helped her sit up on leaking cock, fully seating over him with an exhausted moaning sigh.

The young vampires body tired & weak but following every move he bid her to. Calloused hands going to ample hip to start them moving against his to create a friction that made familiar coil tighten as hazy topaz focused on the god under her. Thor sitting up to take a nipple between fangs to make her arch out to him crying out to the room, a cry he didn’t dare silence, fucking harder into clenching cunt as if it was there last time together.

Waves of please rippling through Y/N’ core as she cried out to the entire compound, the god between thick thighs finishing in record time. Coming down off her high to the fill of the familiar arms of Loki wrapping around thick middle to pull shivering curves flush to clothed chest, hazy topaz looking to the blond as he leaned in close to Y/N’ ear to whisper so only she heard.

“I'm making this right dove, WE will find you,” was the cryptic message uttered before getting to his feet, clasping Loki on the shoulder.

Thor stepping away as he clothed himself in street clothes & left the room swiftly, a knot of anxiety growing in their goddesses chest as nervous gaze looked back to Loki who smiled at her thoughtfully.

A flick of the wrist having the young vampire was clean & on shivering back under Loki. Ecstasy clouded mind still reeling from the previous orgasms as the raven-haired god positioned between thick thighs to thrust into dripping cunt, bowing over her to offer his neck.

All need between the two as a quick climax took them, the god carrying Y/N to the shower, cock still pulsing inside clenching cunt as he took deliberate slow strides with the tired creature in warm arms carefully. The god sure to keep it quiet & relaxed, not speaking a word as he sat about his task. Loki careful with Y/N, taking care to clean curvaceous body, clothing her without the use of seidr, a thing he only done when the god craved to show the young creature he cared for her more than she knew.

Once clothed he silently led her out of the room & down the soundless corridor explaining she was to make an appearance in the debriefing room.

Y/N head spinning from what was going on, previous events making the young vampire sick, knowing Loki felt it as well. Overwhelming as she sat foot in the room with Steve, Bruce & Tony who looked her over. The three noting the bewildered creature looking for Thor as Loki stepped in with her, eyeing the men close as he made her take a seat while the god stayed standing next to her protectively.

“Well let’s get to it,” Steve began warily, Y/N looking up to Loki who looked to be zoning out, a move he done to shield his emotion from her as she looked back to the men, Loki only doing this because Thor had requested it, the god felt guilt for turning his bother, the only reason he did as he asked.

“Y/N & Bucky are cleared of any responsibly thanks to footage & this,” Tony now took over, brandishing the device previously removed from the young vampire, hand going to the nape of her neck.

Soft flesh, no it wasn’t soft, there was something, who were these people? She, Y/N, no not Y/N, should know them. A tickle, a harsh yell for her, Lilith, to focus on the task at hand, blood red eyes opening & peering into the pleading eyes of the creature, the bitch of a vampire that had turned her.

The older vampire on her knees at Y/N feet, fingers digging into the suit that the young vampire wore, one impregnated with fibers that was causing the older vampires hands to burn, but not hers. Gaze flickering around the dimly lit room to look at the men who stood around her in tactical gear & still she didn’t release the bitch at her fee that slung curses up at her though it was getting harder as her fingers dug deeper in her throat.

The coven was dead, eyes flickering around the dim open parlor, the carnage as the hand on the back of Y/N neck registered the metal was clasped to the nape of soft neck, the man closest to her getting the spaced-out creature’s attention as she locked gazes with him, his eyes honey brown.

“Finish it Lilith, we don’t have much longer here,” the man, Alec, spoke calmly noting the glazed look in ruby orbs.

The handler knew she was trying to remember, Y/N, code name Lilith was strong. This vampire the only to survive after all others died a final death at the hands of the scientist that had finally managed to get it right with her, though they imagined it had more to do with Y/N herself than the serum & devices used. Alec had been the one to coax her out of the alley a little over 3 months ago, though it didn’t take much, Y/N was starving.

The hate filled look returned to crimson orbs, Y/N’ hand gripping tighter to the woman’s throat & the other leaving the metal device used to keep her in check. A curt nod as the hand that was on her neck went to the shoulder of the now gurgling vampire trying her best to throw Y/N, to take back control but sharp nails dug into soft flesh & muscle as focus turned back to the one at her feet. Bloody fangs glittering in the firelight, ruby eyes swirling with black mercury as fingers dug deeper, wrapping around the vertebrae at the base of the skull to fill it cracking in her hand.

The noise was wet, sickening, vomit inducing, to which she did note a few of the handlers did lose their lunch as the spinal cord tore, bone snapped, sinew ripped to fill the room with a snarling growl of pleasure once the vampires head was rendered from the body that fell to the floor. The arterial spray hitting Y/N full in the face which didn’t make the young creature flinch.

The entire ordeal not lasing but mere seconds, head tossed to the floor as she turned to look at the salt & peppered haired Alec that looked calmly at Y/N, nodding for the bloodied creature to follow him out of the room & down to the street. Another quick to step in line behind her to throw a blanket over blood splattered suit to hide all the blood & gore.

“Pet? You hear me? Y/N? No, it's to soon,” a male voice worried in her ear.

Weary head cocking to the side to catch it again, noting the handler to her left was laying a gauze to the nape of aching neck to staunch the bleeding that was stemming from the device, recalling one of the vampires had attempted to rip out in the fight, no she slaughtered them. The group pausing under the breeze way of the covens building, rain pelting down harshly on the canopy as they waited for the van to pull up.

“Y/N? Please pet listen… we… Loki… Thor… we will find you…,” the voice reassured.

This time more at a distance if it was fading out at last, Y/N hated when that voice & the other spoke to her, the other male, Thor?

A harsh push to the back of throbbing neck had Y/N  rushing forward to duck into the van & forced to take a seat on the gurney that was anchored in the back. The blanket jerked off tired shoulders as she leaned over on her knees to place tired head in blood stained hands, Y/H/C hair pushed away from the nape of bloodied neck. The one, who ever had her hair for once was gently looping it into a clip to hold it off of the gored flesh, not thinking for fingers to reach back to touch it, a harsh push to send it to her knee again. Alec taking a seat in front of the weary vampire to take bloodied hands to clean them & hold while the young scientist went over the device to do what he could.

Red eyes looking to the one who sat before her, hair no longer salt & pepper but blonde, long, reaching his shoulders smiling at her, eyes sparkling a beautiful blue as red eyes hazed again, blood coming to them as they became glassy, forcing herself to blink when they spoke to her.

“Be strong dove, we will find you,” the man spoke before she dropped her head to blink the image away, a prick in her neck making Y/N hiss out & look back to Alec that was speaking to her as the needle was retracted.

“Come on Lilith, none of this, focus on now,” he spoke calmly, sitting Y/N/Lilith up to steady trembling body so a bandage could be wrapped around soft neck to hold the gauze to the device that was finally healing like the scientist wanted.

“She performed well,” the scientist, his name was Stephen, spoke, taking a seat in front of Y/N as he finished & the van made its way down the road back to the airstrip if memory served right.

“Flawless,” the handler admitted coldly looking at the scientist who tutted the response making Y/N glare at him.

“She’s still having flash backs to something I still don’t understand. It's not showing as memories, but something else, it's stronger brain waves going off the charts. Her true past, her family, what the vampire done to her shows itself differently,” Stephen retorted pulling out a tablet to show Alec what he spoke of as if she was just an object sitting for their enjoyment.

“Well, she’s the first you managed to not kill, you know you wouldn’t be comparing her to the Winter Soldier or the others. This is seeming you will have to chart am I correct,” the handler snapped.

Y/N looking down to realize he was still holding bloodied wrist so hands where held palms up, a tech wiping over them gingerly with gauze soaked in alcohol, finding every rip in the smooth skin that had fragments of bone protruding out & removing it with tweezers.

“Well regardless, we have to get her in stasis on the flight back. The instant we are off the plane she is to be wiped, we may have a buyer already,” Stephen spoke, Y/N’ crimson gaze falling on him as he stood, reaching for a pack the tech handed over while Alec placed cleaned hands palm up once more in a form of submission that had been instilled in her.

Ruby eyes closing as the needle punctured the soft flesh of her neck to enter the vain, Y/N knew what was coming & figured there was no need to fight. The handler careful to catch the creature to lay sore form back to the gurney instead of letting the cocktail take over for curvaceous body to go limp & fall back harshly.

Hours ago

This was the second god to visit the sorcerer that morning & it wasn’t quiet in the sanctorum. The air that surrounded the 3 occupants was laced with a hostility that made hair stand on end as the blond god glared violent daggers at both Strange & Wong. The hashing out of the repercussions of what Thor & Loki were asking grating on everyone’s nerves which where growing thinner by the second.

“Can you help me or not,” Thor bellowed out at the sorcerer that finally turned from the window to look at the fuming god.

Strange couldn’t believe he, they, were serious, but it was obvious by the visit from both gods that morning they truly loved the woman, this vampire, letting out a resigned sigh as Wong looked at him. the sorcerer hated to admit it but they both had made a compelling argument as to why this needed to be made right, the dark magic that surrounded the entire debacle was so thick it was chocking him.

“You know I can, but… you will remember, possibly because you are gods, then again you may not. I can bring Loki back, but he truly wasn’t dead in the first place. You were played by the darkness with regards to your brother & you, Loki or both, have to be in that ally to pick up Y/N before whatever the other presence was that was preparing to take the vampire before she was found, if you are late…,” Strange explained touching the time stone around his neck, the war with Thanos had taken its toll on the infinity stone that rested inside the pendant but it could possibly help.

“We know the consciences. Y/N doesn’t deserve this, I understand she was destined to be this, creature. If they take her, WE will find her & bring her back. You said yourself Y/N will see familiarity in us correct,” Thor asked the sorcerer who looked at the vampire god, anything was better than this, whatever this chaos was that had led to the gods being turned to vampires & whatever had happened in Germany with Y/N.

“Bucky may remember as well, are you two prepared for that,” Strange brought up, the amulet taking on a slight glow.

“We will deal with it then,” Thor began readying himself for whatever was about to happen, remembering the last hour with Y/N in bed.

“Then hold on because this will not be easy,” Strange began, bracing himself for the task the gods were asking of him.

Look at me, so evil!

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[irondads-archived]

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/?

this chapter is specifically targeting @cyborgrhodey who pointed out the significant lack of hurt rhodey. I wanted overprotective tony, we got kinda protective yet insecure tony. its a work in progress. tagging: @prooftonystarkhasaheart, @aceleia, @tonystarkdefencesquad, @bothwaystrustgoes, @inkyubus, @wexfogg, @theclassicvinyldragon (as ever, hmu for tagging!) mobile users, I promise there’s more

Jim panted through the pain, his eyes screwing up at the bare lightbulb swinging above him.

“Who sent you?” The guy asked him. Jim spat in his face.

Smack. His ribs were no longer just bruised, his sight was blurred with his own blood, his ankle was almost definitely broken, and he was pretty sure they’d knocked a tooth loose, but Jim had been through worse with SHIELD’s anti-interrogation. He’d had specialised training off the Black Widow, goddamn it. No way would some petty, small time criminal break him.

“Was it Bannon? Tell me!”

He was actually disappointed that they’d caught him, to be honest. He knew he was better than that. Natasha was going to be pissed. These weren’t even the guys he was investigating, for god’s sake!

Goon number two grabbed his face, squeezing his chin too tightly.

“Boss asked you a question, mate. Better answer it.”

Could you get any more cliche? Jim half believed he’d hear the wannabe mob boss spout some bullshit about making him ‘go swim with the fishes’. Christ. Wasn’t it Barton who was supposed to get captured and beaten by shitty B-rated villains? His head felt fuzzy, and black spots had begun to invade his vision before the goon let up. The sound of gunfire outside made him attempt to rouse himself, as he watched his captors flail and panic.

There was a shock of red to his left, and the goon to his right went down as an arrow hit him in the jugular. But really, Jim started to smile when he spotted the familiar mess of brunet hair and askew glasses stepped forward.

“Someone wanna tell me where my agent is? I seem to have lost him somewhere.”

-

Jim woke up to the faint sound of someone humming. There was a weight on his stomach, and relaxed as he recognized Romanov’s typical ‘waiting room’ pose - her feet on his middle as she flicked through the glossy magazines SHIELD medics. It had been a while since he was in this position rather than Barton, she must have been glad of the change. He tried to sit up, and groaned as his ribs protested. Nat looked up, discarding her magazine in favour of gently pushing him down.

“Идиот.” She cupped his cheek in her hand. “If you ever do that again, I will kill you.”

“Love you too, Tash.” He croaked, wincing at the dryness of his voice. She held up a straw for him to take, and he looked up at her gratefully. “What happened?”

“Your boy is crazy,” She smirked at him, as he stared at her in confusion. “Carbonell. He tracked you down. Got a plane to Boston, pulled a favour with Coulson - don’t ask, I have no idea what it was - and got us involved.”

“Huh.” Was Jim’s genius reply. So maybe he was still a little out of it. Romanov’s smirk softened, showing that she’d noticed.

“Go back to sleep, James. I’ll keep watch.”

-

Sparring post mission was out, what with Jim’s injuries. He’d checked out of SHIELD’s infirmary AMA, desperate for a night in his own bed. Other than the ribs, ankle and his mouth - the fuckers had cracked a tooth, goddamnit - he was pretty much okay, if you counted that his entire body felt like a giant bruise okay. He was SHIELD fine, and that’s what counted. He was ready to go home. There was just one thing Jim needed to do first.

Shuffling into R & D, Jim nodded genially at the few agents he knew. The air smelled like hot metal, even in the coding room, but opening the workshop doors Jim was enveloped in the warmth of several forges, and the loud yells of the head of R & D.

“-Simpson, why can’t you understand that - no, no, this is not a lab there are different rules here, don’t touch that! I keep telling you -Rhodes? What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

The agent Carbonell had been berating scuttled off, shooting Jim a grateful look as he left. Jim rolled his eyes. Carbonell was no worse than any of the other superiors at SHIELD - where any wrong move could be your last. He was better than Jim’s first drill sergeant, that’s for sure. With his exit, Jim and Carbonell were alone in the normally crowded workshop, so he took the opportunity to drop the formalities he usually had in front of junior agents.

“I’m heading home. Figured I’d check in first, see how much better you’ve gotten since I was away…” Jim felt his lips twitch into a smile which he didn’t bother to smother.  Raising an eyebrow, Carbonell spun around to meet his eyes.

“You’re on crutches, honeybear. I somehow doubt even you have the skills to beat my ass right now.” The corner of Carbonell’s eyes crinkled.

“The way you were hitting last week? I think I could take you in wheelchair.”

“Rhodeybear, why must you hurt me in this way,” Pouting, the quartermaster turned back to his workbench. “If you’re not going to be nice, I don’t want to play with you.”

Limping over, Jim looked over the smaller man’s shoulder. He was no slouch in the brain department but it still took him a few moments to make sense of what Carbonell’s notes said. It looked like he was creating-

“A tracker?”

“Emergency location implant, actually. This is just the prototype, I’ve got to do some more coding before it’s good to go.”

Jim stared at his handler. The man had his back turned to him, but Jim could see the flush creeping up the back of his neck, the minute trembling of his shoulders. Then suddenly, it clicked.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?”

Whirling around, Carbonell met Jim’s eyes, and Jim was shocked to see anger in his expression, anger and guilt.

“You were off grid for like, twelve hours!” Carbonell threw his hands up. “One minute you were there, the next, you weren’t answering your comm and I couldn’t track you through CCTV.”

“I’m an agent, Carbonell. I knew the risks when I took the job at SHIELD.” Jim watched Carbonell take a deep breath. “I made a mistake, I got caught, I learned my lesson. I came home with a few bruises.”

“And what about next time? Next time, you don’t come home, and I’ve got to call your mother and your niece and tell them sorry, Jimmy isn’t coming home? You’re my agent, my responsibility!” Chest heaving, Carbonell poked a finger into Jim’s (uninjured) shoulder.

Bizarrely, all Jim could feel was a little touched that his handler remembered him talking about his family. He put his hand on Carbonell’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. The fight was slow to drain out of the quartermaster, but Jim was patient.

“And you did your job. I came home, because of you.”

Sighing, Carbonell shrugged his hand off of his shoulder, slumping. He turned back to the tracker. Jim took the hint, and began to shuffle off. He had a feeling that they would revisit this argument again, sometime.

“Oh and Tony?” He called, his eyes tracking the way Carbonell tensed. “Thank you.”

With that, he let himself out.

-

Home safe, Jim allowed himself to fall onto his couch, ignoring the way his injuries protested. Despite knowing that there was a perfectly good bed in the next room, he really couldn’t be bothered to move. Jim was exhausted - as wrung out as a wet rag, as his dad used to say.

Finally, the blinking light of his answering machine forced him up, and not for the first time, cursed Coulson for worrying his mother after three terse messages demanding he call her. Lila made her own call, telling him about her new science project and how Uncle Jim, you really need to come and help me with it which he already knew was a lie. Two threats from his landlord and a curt ‘get well’ message from Hill that made him smile, and finally:

“All senior field agents are encouraged to attend a debriefing on the future use of Emergency Location Implants within the coming weeks. Contact the Quartermaster for further information.”

next up, we see how rhodey became a thing. @ tony, work with me this time. 

[theloveablesociopath]

Whisper Your Love Part 1

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: As a hydra agent, you where the last person Bucky expected to be kind to him, but during the days of him being locked away as the winter solider, you where a flower among the graves.

Warnings: FLUFFF

Word count: 1,627

There is a women, one that I see eyeing me each day with a soft, almost welcoming gaze. She’s beautiful, even my fried brain can tell that, and I find her more often than not giving me quick, secret smiles.

She waves to me when no one’s looking, but under the circumstances I don’t dare lift my hand to wave back, neither do I smile at her in the slightest way. I know my place here. I know that if I give into the soft hum in my chest, if I even so much as smile back at her, there’s a chance ill get beaten, or worse, wiped. But I’m more concerned for her, if they knew; god if they knew they might take her away, beat her, or worse. So I keep silent, and gaze at her on the occasion that she offers me one of her beautifully crafted smiles.

Now, as my bones ache from the miles I ran to get back to the base after a mission, my mind travels back to all the times she’s shown me kindness.

The first time struck me as odd, it was a day like any other, sitting in the lab as one of the scientist looked at my arm and stuck screwdrivers and wire cutters into the slots they opened.  From the corner of my eye I saw the movement of a group of people walk in, and I turned my head as they stopped and my handler began to speak to them.

“Agents, this is our oldest weapon, a highly trained super solider for our more challenging field work.” He spoke to them, and I now grasped the concept of them being the new recruits I’ve heard about.

They all stood in a horizontal line, looking at me and the scientist that worked on my arm in bewilderment.  All of them slight fear at the way I glared back at them, all except one.

A girl much shorter than the man beside her, standing at the end with (h/L) (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes that held complete and utter sadness within them. I felt our eyes lock, and through her kind sympathetic gaze she gifted me with that first warm smile.  I was taken back, so much so that I’m almost certain my handler saw my features twist in confusion, because she casted her gaze back to the group and let her smile drop into a stern determined glare, so to avoid him seeing.

When they left to go tour the rest of the facility she gave me another soft charming smile, and waved her hand ever so slightly from where it was grasping a notebook in her hands.

——————————————–

The second time that I saw her it happened again, a very short and curt smile that she threw my way as the agent she came to see in the training room turned his back.

After this it was like I looked forward to seeing her wherever I went, either it was the slightest smile or simple wave she gave me, I felt myself feel better each time. Through the death, torture and control that plagued my life, she truly was someone who made those days better.

I remember the first time she touched me. I wasn’t expecting it. I mean honestly how could I? No one around me that wasn’t of authority was brave enough to even come near me, and the ones that did where commanded to do so. But not her.

I was in the lab again that day, sitting patiently well a scientist poked and prodded at my arm, and she stood taking notes by the sink, guards standing outside the cell door but with their backs turned.  For safety precautions they had strapped my arm down with metal cuffs, knowing having only a scientist and another agent in the room with me was risky.

I heard the scientist curse under his breath as a light zap caught his fingers, and he stood up. I’m not exactly sure where he went at the time, probably to get a new tool or wash the many cuts that had formed on his hands, but he walked out mumbling something, leaving me with her.

I was mindlessly looking around the room, one I had seen a thousand times, or at least I feel like I have, when I heard her shuffle across the room to me.

My gazed locked on hers, as I felt an almost flutter like sensation pile up in my chest. She smiled at me warmly and gave her signature wave as she approached me.  My heart started to beat rapidly in my chest, and I’m not really sure why. I’ve gone up against dozens of men at once and my heart had never moved this quickly against my ribs.

She lifted her hand up and I didn’t dare move, maybe it was my will to remain as a fearless killer, or simply my heart convincing me not to scare her away. I felt her fingers brush the side of my face as she swiped them across my forehead, guiding a few strands of hair and tucking them behind my ear. All the while I sat gazing into her eyes with a soft sort of look that I echoed back to her as her glance shifted between my eyes. The stone cold emotionless look I had thrown on when she approached me was gone, and I’m almost sure she noticed how my face held a soft look of curiosity.

She stepped back quickly after that, just in time for the scientist to come back in and her to go back to scribbling in her notebook. I on the other hand, kept my gaze on her, and studied the way her uniform hugged her body and her nimble, gentle fingers grasped the pages.

————————————–

The first time she spoke to me was like hearing music for the first time.  

A man giving her a command to patch up my wounds after I arrived back from a mission. Her face was riddled with worry as she pulled up a stool and sat in front of me, as I sat on a metal table in the med bay. She cautiously went to touch me but pulled back and looked up into my eyes, wanting to ask permission.

“I need to lift up your shirt, is that alright?” she spoke. She finally spoke and it made my insides feel warm. She was such a mystery to me, no one had ever asked permission to do something to me before, so it felt odd to even respond. But I gave her a short, slight nod, with a blank, curious face, and she lifted up my blood soaked shirt to dab around the bullet hole with a wipe.

When she got out the tweezers from the side table, I knew what was coming, and I had long since grown a tolerance to the pain of bullet extraction, but that didn’t stop her from showing me the most soft, and apologetic smile I had ever seen.

“This is going to hurt, I’m so sorry” she said softly, as she dug into the wound to take out the bullet, and my body did nothing more than tense, as my jaw clenched.

When she set the bullet aside, she began to patch me up; almost taking her time to make sure it was as comfortable as possible.  When she was finished, I noticed that we where the last two people left in the room, and so did she as she glanced around before digging something from her pocket.  She walked over to the sink across the room and filled a paper cup with some water and then handed it to me along with four pills.

“It will help with the pain” she whispered, and I nodded to her as I quickly took them in my mouth and washed them down with the water.  

No one had ever given me anything for pain before. I was allowed no sedatives, or any form of pain treatment, so this small act of kindness almost made me have hope in humanity again.

She took the cup from me, smiling and throwing it in the trash, and I felt the sudden erg to speak up, to at least understand one thing about her to keep as my own.

“Who are you?” I asked in a gruff quite voice and her eyes darted to mine before she gave me another warm smile.

“My name is (y/n)” she said.

————————————–

Tonight I lay in bed, remembering all the events that happened over the last couple of months, my brain somehow ignoring everything other then the small encounters with her.

My door began to open, and I slowly sat up and rose to my feet, expecting an urgent mission or a command to be given to me. But instead I saw her, walking towards me with that lovely smile that reached her eyes, and a small note book and pencil in her hands.

“I can’t stay, but I wanted to give you these” she whispered, handing me the little note book and pencil. I looked up at her in question, taking them from her hold and looking down at the items.

“They’re for your memories.” She said softly. “So even when they put you in that godforsaken chair, you can still remember.”

I stood there for a long time, maybe longer then I should have in deep silence, just thinking about this kind, out of place women surrounded by people of such horrible minds.

“Thank you (y/n)” I replied, and she smiled up at me with the most hopeful look dancing in her eyes, and for the first time, I smiled back.

[dapaywinduh-blog]

WWF Raw Time Machine: Week Three

We are back in the Manhattan Center for week three of Monday Night Raw. Sean Mooney still can't get inside, as he is standing on the sidewalk next to a tow truck talking to Repo Man. He still has Macho Man's hat from last week, and we are told he also repo'ed Rob Bartlett's car. He should repo his jokes, they seem past their date. We go inside and HOORAY! Bobby Heenan is back on commentary! I guess this is just because Randy is wrestling tonight but I hope he makes an impression on Vince and gets to stay. Throughout the night, he proves he is so much better than Rob Bartlett. He is funny, to be sure, but he is funny in service of the product - forwarding storylines by using his heel persona to tell you who to cheer for, and bantering with Vince in a way Bartlett just cannot. All Bartlett has are Thighmaster references and atrocious Bill Clinton impressions. He cannot be long for this show. Anyway, Repo Man vs Macho Man is our first match, in a battle of guys who should like they should be Masters of the Universe characters. Oh, and also they are fighting over Macho's hat. During the match, Vince mentions that Randy Savage and Repo Man tussled during the previous day's Royal Rumble, which surprised me, as I am pretty sure this show was taped prior to the Rumble, though it aired the next day. I paused and looked back, and Vince was right - Macho eliminated Repo from the match! So this was either some great foresighted booking by the WWF, or they recut Vince's commentary for that segment prior to air. Based on the sound, I suspect the former, but that is very different for a guy like Vince, who often changes his mind on booking ideas the day of major shows. Randy wins in a nothing match where he does all the work, and gets his hat back. It doesn't match the outfit he is wearing tonight. Boo. Then we have Kamala vs the Brooklyn Brawler. Brawler is Steve Lombardi, a perennial jobber in the WWF, who oddly also used to play Kamala's handler, the masked Kim Chee. Now, Kamala is a face, having been "saved" by Reverend Slick. This match is terrible, as are all Kamala matches. Squash, the Ugandan Giant wins, and the crowd are shockingly ecstatic about that. We get a Royal Rumble Post-Report insert, as Mean Gene runs down the major occurrences from the Rumble. Of note is him plugging the VHS release of the show, which he says will be out in one month. That's quite a turnaround. It often took years for my local video stores to get new tapes in. But that's Nowhere, Missouri for you. Finally, we get Ric Flair vs Mr. Perfect in a Loser Leaves the WWF Match. Of course the finish here is in no doubt - Flair was unhappy with his situation in WWF after about two years, and wanted to go back to WCW. The big Hogan/Flair match he wanted never panned out due to poor house show turnouts, his feud with Savage was good, but didn't headline Mania 8 like it likely should have, and he wasn't booked to have a match on Summerslam '92, instead interfering in the Ultimate Warrior/Macho Man match. A resulting tag match and, presumably, a feud with Warrior didn't happen as Warrior left the company again, and finally we get this final feud between Flair and his former "advisor", Mr. Perfect. This match had me in high hopes, as Flair is always great, and Perfect is legendary for his terrific selling. But this match wasn't very good. Perfect did bump around, but Flair did next to nothing. Almost as though he didn't want to get hurt before he returned to WCW. Vince notes at one point that there is some local radio station audio bleeding into the equipment, and you can actually hear some low murmuring in the background from a talk program. We also get next to no comments from Rob Bartlett during the match. Either the radio interference issue also kept his headset from working, or more likely, he was totally outclassed by The Brain, who went into overdrive putting over Flair needing to win and Perfect being an ingrate for turning his back on the Heenan Family. After a blade job by Perfect, Curt Hennig runs wild in a silly spot, where he makes a mad face that looks like crying, stomps around, and hits a running haymaker punch. Perfect is a wonderful heel, but his 80's babyface fire is laughable in present day. Ultimately, Flair walks into a Perfect-Plex and takes the fall. Heenan goes berserk, throwing his headset, unleashing a string of bleeped invectives, and he leaves with Flair, who seems relatively fine with losing his career, as he walks to the back. After the last commercial break, Vince tells us that Ric Flair must honor his obligations through this weekend (read: he probably taped a match for Superstars and they still want to use it), and that next week's main event is a big one. It will be Typhoon from the Natural Disasters tag team against Doink. On the screen, the graphic names him "Doink (the clown)", I guess to differentiate him from all the other guys named Doink. "Oh, the clown one! I expected Doink the Car Insurance Agent!" So, a clown vs a fat weather phenomenon next week, as we continue with Week Four of Monday Night Raw...

[downwiththeficness]

In the Blood-3

Pairing: Brasa/Female OC

Words: ~2,000

Warnings: None

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten  Part Eleven Part Twelve

The bed was glorious.  Soft sheets, soft mattress, soft pillows.  Lilah stretched long, arms above her head and toes pointed. It burned in her muscles, pleasing and warm.  When she relaxed, she noted the very low light.  Had she slept with the lights on again?  She wouldn’t put it past her. Turning over, she closed her eyes and buried her face in the pillow. It smelled so, so good.  Like coffee and liquid caramel. She pressed her nose into it and groaned, burying deep.

When she was young and working her first job, she was accidentally gifted a man’s cologne at a dirty Santa party.  She’d liked it so much that she’d sprayed it over her bed sheets so that she could roll around in it. At that time, it was the closest human connection she could get.  A short time later, she’d taken more controversial work.  This smelled so much better.  She wanted to add it to her bath so that she could smell it on her skin for the rest of the day.  She wanted to pull the pillowcase in her mouth and taste it.

Body lax and pliable, it took far too long for her realize there were fingers running down the length of her spine, from neck to hips and back. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, continuously moving. Eyebrows coming together, she peeked outward to a form blocking what little light was in the room.  

“Who are you?” She grumbled, feeling cranky. Lilah was too comfortable to muster up much more than that, certainly to comfy to feel fear.

His breath fanned across her shoulder, “Someone who has waited a long time to meet you.”

“That,” she replied, as she buried her face further into the pillow, “Doesn’t answer my question.”

He leaned over and pressed his mouth to the place where her scapula met her spine, “No, it doesn’t.  But, it is true.”

Lilah frowned, though he couldn’t possibly see her face well enough to appreciate it, “Why are you following me?”

He tilted his head to the side and fixed her with a look that told her that her question was absurd, “It can’t be helped.”

It wasn’t until she started to flip over to face him fully that she realized she was naked under the silky slick of the sheets.  Embarrassed, she bunched it against her chest as she tried to slide away.  His expression turned disgruntled and he reached over to hold her by the forearm.  The grip was firm, stopping her with little more than the pressure of his fingertips.

“Where are you?”

“What?”

He repeated the question, this time slower, lower.  The timbre of his voice was laced with an undercurrent of something that vibrated over her skin.   She just barely managed to suppress a full body shiver.

She swallowed and looked around, “No idea.”

The room was unfamiliar to her, and too dark to give her any clues.  She couldn’t see beyond the obscenely comfortable bed and the man who lay within it.

With noticeable frustration, he rolled his eyes and lifted to rest his weight on the palm of his hand, looming over her.  Lilah had to force herself to keep her eyes on his face and not the flex of muscle over his chest and arms. His body completed blocked the light and most of his face was in shadow, but she could see the faint outline of his mouth, pressed thin in displeasure.  Lilah didn’t know what to do with the urge to catch the pouting lower lip with her teeth.

“Outside of here.  Where are you?”

She blinked, “A hotel.”

“Where?”

Things started to go fuzzy and she felt her body sink and fall.  She jerked away, the sheets tangled in her legs and the comforter kicked to the floor.  She was sweating. Taking deep breaths, she tried to steady her galloping heart.  

With a grunt, she pushed from the bed and made her way to the bathroom.  This hotel was lower rent than the last few she’d stayed at.  The bathroom barely had running water, let alone a working water heater.  She turned on the lights and twisted her body around to look at the damage.

The job had gone a little sideways and she’d gotten scraped up a bit.  Carefully, she pulled the bandage away from her skin.  It was healing really nicely.  She removed it and tossed it in the garbage can sitting below the sink.  

After showering, she dressed and checked out.  The car was already unbearably hot when she slid into the driver’s seat.  To combat the arid air, she rolled all four windows down about two inches and pulled out of the lot.  She had about four hours to make it to the next location and get set up. There would be no on-site work today, for which she was grateful. Just her, a computer, and the voices of the team filtering into her headphones.

The drive was short and she made it with plenty of time.  She entered the empty building and climbed the stairs to the fifth floor.  Hauling her equipment up that many flights taxed her, despite the cardio she made sure to do several times a week.  It didn’t matter how many miles she ran, stairs were a fucking nuisance.

She set up and logged on.

“McNamara online.”

A round of call signs sounded in her ears.

“Cool.  Are we in place?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.  This is a smash and grab, guys.  Get the artifact, get the fuck out.  Don’t go off-script and we’ll be through this in less than an hour.”

“Copy.”

From her vantage point, she coordinated security feeds and worked to cut alarms and then reset them as the team moved through the museum across the street.  The objective was simple: A staff of some importance to a tribe in Mexico was on display.  Steal the staff, deliver to the buyer.

True to her word, the team had exited the museum in less than an hour, no alarms set off, no police on site.  She closed her computer and pulled the ear buds from her ears, wrapping the wire around her hot spot and shoving them in her bag.  

With as little ceremony as possible, she exited the building and got in her car.  The team would be waiting for her at a designated location where she would take the staff, pay them, and haul ass to her handler.

Everything went as planned, and Lilah had the staff in hand as she headed for the rental.  She looked at it, a long length of wood topped with a crudely carved snake. Turning it her hands, she wondered what its significance was and why someone would pay a total of half a million to get it out of the collection of the museum.

After folding it into roll of fabric for protection, Lilah slid it into the back seat of the car and closed the door.  She turned and ran her gaze over the parking lot, seeing no one, and opened the driver’s side door.  The engine turned over and she pulled out with little incident.  

Her body drove on automatic, her mind taking the time to parse the details of yet another dream.  What kept coming back to her was the heat from his hand as it held her still.  She could still feel it, if she focused on the skin of her arm.  It was unnatural, feverish.  

Her fingers twisted around the steering wheel.  She was stressed.  She was tired.  She would finish this job and take some time off.  Go up north and stay in a cabin until her brain worked out whatever this shit was. Jaw set, she nodded to herself, having made her decision.

Her handler’s name was Javier and she saw him a couple times a year.  Most of their communication was either over the phone or through a secure email server.  She liked him.  He was extremely professional and always paid up.  Any deal they made was written in stone, and he seemed to value what she brought to the team.  Well, team was, perhaps, too generous a word. Lilah rarely worked with the same people twice—her deal with Chewie notwithstanding. It kept people from getting too comfortable, and kept the inevitable vendettas from getting too out of hand.

One of his favorite places to meet her was at the base of a mountain in the desert.  With the sun setting, it had turned a bit cold and she threw on a hoodie before grabbing the staff out of the back and heading for a large, flat rock formation.  The air was dry, and her shoes crunched on the ground as she walked across it.

Reflexively, she checked her watch.  She was early.  Leaning the staff against the rock, she hopped up and let her legs dangle over the side.  Far outside the city, the light pollution was low enough that she could clearly see thousands of stars.  The moon was just rising over the horizon, a sliver of a crescent that cast a blue glow over the landscape.  

From far away, she could see the headlights heading towards her.  As she watched them grow bigger and brighter, she slipped her hand to the pistol in her waistband and waited until the car pulled up next to hers and Javier stepped out. He left his headlights on, but turned off the engine.  She let go of the gun and relaxed, resting her forearms on her knees.

Javier was short, clearing about five foot—barely.  He was also well dressed.  Crisp, three piece suits were his sartorial bread and butter.  Tonight’s color was a deep burgundy, pink shirt, and black tie.  Lilah thought he looked very smart.  

“Looking good, Javier,” she called out, giving a little wave.

He stopped and gave a curt bow, “Thank you.  You look as if you haven’t slept.”

“Gee, thank you,” she snorted, crossing one leg over the other, “And, here, I brought you what you asked for.”

Javier’s eyes glance at the staff and he approached it with something resembling reverence.  With careful hands, he unrolled it from the fabric and held it aloft for inspection.  Lilah didn’t think he was even breathing.

“What is it?” she asked lowly, afraid to break whatever spell seemed to hold him captive.

Javier’s dark eyes looked up at her, “A relic, used in blood rituals for hundreds of years.”

“Ew,” Lilah murmured, picking lint from her pants..

He chuckled a little, “I don’t expect you to understand.  But, a long time ago, when my people were young, they sacrificed one of their own to the gods to guarantee their favor.”

She shrugged, having heard the legends off hand here and there, “What does the staff have to do with it?”

Javier held up the bottom end, “If someone was discovered to have betrayed the group, they were executed.  The sharp end was shoved into their chest. True death.”

A shudder went through her, “Isn’t that a bit…” She trailed off.

“Barbaric?” He prompted with a smile as he rolled the staff into the fabric once more.

“Uh, yeah.”

Javier shrugged, “Only the greatest betrayal could warrant it. Its still done, even in modern society.”

She thought about it, “Good point.”

Tucking the staff beneath one arm, Javier changed the subject, “I have another job for you.”

Lilah was already shaking her head, “I can’t.  I need a break.”

“Its easy.  Just a visit to some old friends to pick up a package.”

She sighed and dropped her chin into her palm, “I need a break.”

Javier’s expression was soft, assuring, “After this, you take as much time as you need.  And when you come back, I want to bring you up a level.”

Blinking, Lilah leaned back and studied her handler.  She’d been working at this level for at least two years, and she had no ambition to move up in the hierarchy. She’d never once voiced the want to do more than what she was doing.  And yet, here the opportunity was.  Run the job.  Get the promotion.

Javier waited patiently while she decided, though she doubted he had any thought that she’d turn it down.  She’d never been the least bit shy about him knowing that she could be motivated by money.  A steady pay check was security, a home she could buy when she wanted to retire, protection from the enemies she’d made when she was a younger, brasher, woman.

“Where is this job?”