#they got like a generator or some shit running though bc that noise is certainly still going

[mxbitters]

lmao so some asshole posted this on my town’s patch page but god could you IMAGINE 

[trillgutterbug]

i have Questions about both those narcos fics but call amado maybe... hello 👀

call amado maybe is the result of @lingua-mortua and i (i think she named it actually, because she’s very funny) trying to figure out the sequence of events in canon between amado and pacho first meeting each other at that very fraught summit with miguel, where amado is very clearly uncomfortable and doesn’t like him much, and then their next interaction, which is amado throwing miguel’s crusty ass directly under pacho’s huge oncoming bus. like what happened in there?? how did they decide to trust each other? when did they talk?? how’d pacho even broach the topic? and we determined that a) pacho likes phone sex, b) amado likes attention, and according to the rules of algebra, a+b=69. and in the process of these things being true, there needed to be about 30k of pacho very seductively convincing amado that a lil dick is good for him! needless to say, i never finish anything, so it’s been languishing in my narcos folder for like a year, but. it’s one i poke at every once in a while bc we’ve got a big doc of notes and Thots on the subject, and it’s pretty compelling shit. HOWever, it’s such a clusterfuck of logistics and details, i’d have to rewatch all of mexico and take copious notes, which like. aint nobody got time to suffer through that much miguel angel. anyway, here’s the first scene.

“Amado Carrillo Fuentes,” said the voice on the line. 

Amado blinked. “Hello…?” He knew that voice, the warm, flip familiarity of the words. It made a little alarm bell ring in the back of his head. Belatedly, the pieces clicked. He scowled over his shoulder at Aguilar, who had summoned him for the phone call without saying who it was. Aguilar wasn’t paying attention, whistling as he rummaged in a filing cabinet. Amado was on his own. He braced a hand on the desk, ducking his head. Something told him to keep this conversation quiet. “Señor Herrera.”

Pacho made a soft sound of tutting disappointment. “Are we not on a first name basis?”

“I don’t know, are we?” 

A chuckle. “Oh, I think we should be.” 

Amado resisted the urge to check over his shoulder again. Aguilar was a jackass, and certainly not above eavesdropping, but the defensive prickling of Amado’s nerves had everything to do with who was on the other end of the call, not who was in the room with him. “If you say so.”

The smile was audible in Pacho’s voice. “I do.” 

Although it was cooler in the trailer than out under the noon sun, Amado was still sweating, damp down the length of his spine. He plucked at the open collar of his shirt, trying to summon a breeze. “What can I do for you?”

“Excellent question,” said Pacho. There was an odd noise in the background, shrill, echoey with distance. A whistle? “Your new airstrip in Chiapas, have you broken ground yet?”

Amado hesitated. “Last week.” There was no reason not to answer truthfully, was there? If things went according to Miguel Ángel’s clusterfuck of a plan, all their business with Cali would hinge on Chiapas before long. Much sooner rather than later, in fact. Amado grimaced, rapping a knuckle on the edge of the wooden desk to be safe. "Why? Are you changing the schedule on us?" 

"Of course not." Pacho's tone was so soothing it made Amado scowl harder. “Félix said as soon as possible, didn’t he?”

Amado shut his eyes. They stung with sweat. He pressed the heel of his palm into them, one after the other. “He did.”

“And I promised to deliver.” 

More noise in the background, this time shouts and hollering, although they lacked the edge of implied violence. It was strangely familiar. “Are you at a game?” Amado blurted. 

A second of silence, punctuated by what Amado recognized as another whistle blast. “Just about to go on the field,” said Pacho.

Amado blinked his eyes clear, surprised. “You’re playing?” 

“Center forward.”

Amado tried to picture it. Pacho Herrera - infamous in his slick suits and meticulous hair, his pristinely shining shoes, his reserved cunning - sweating and muddy on a football field. It was probably a vanity project, one of those honorary positions on a purchased team where the defenders kept Don Pacho from getting a scraped knee at the cost of their own heads. “Huh,” said Amado.

“Do you play?”

Amado barked a laugh before he could stop it. “No, man. I have better shit to do.” Too late, he could have strangled himself, but Pacho only laughed as well. 

“Fair enough. But do you watch?”

Amado shrugged. He finally glanced over his shoulder. Aguilar was frowning at a fat folder opened in his hands, mouth moving as he read. “Sure, sometimes.”

More hollering, more whistle blowing. “Chiapas,” said Pacho.

“Yeah, right, Chiapas. What about it?”

“I’m sending someone to liaise with your crew there. He’ll be arriving Wednesday.”

“Uh,” said Amado. A strange, defensively guilty sensation came over him - jumpiness like a teacher had told him to open his locker for inspection even though he knew it contained no contraband. “What for?”

Pacho made a little hmm sound, a dismissive moue. “It’s nothing personal. This is a large shipment Félix will be handling for us, and assuming it goes well, not the last of its kind. Chiapas will be important for both our businesses, going forward. My partners and I would like to have first-hand knowledge of it. We don’t want any easily avoidable incidents, do we?”

Amado frowned. What kind of incident could happen in Chiapas that the Cali cartel could possibly care about? As Pacho had reminded them in Panama, if anything happened to the coke after it left Colombia, the consequences were on Félix’s head alone. Well, not alone. Amado could easily picture the maelstrom of shit avalanching downhill in his direction. On second thought, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Cali to okay the operation in advance. 

“What are you calling me for, then?” Amado asked. “Have you talked to Félix about this?”

Another hmm, this time loaded in a way Amado couldn’t identify. “I’d much rather talk to you,” said Pacho. 

A concerning little curl of uncertainty coiled itself in Amado’s belly. “Oh?”

“You handle transportation, don’t you? Why concern the king with the business of generals?”

Amado heard the mocking emphasis on the word king. He almost smiled. “Are we generals, you and I?” 

Pacho chuckled. “I understand how things work.” Unspoken, the sentiment that Miguel Ángel did not. 

Amado chewed his bottom lip. “Alright,” he said at last. “Wednesday. But the airfield isn’t ready for planes, yet.”

“Of course. I’m sending a flight to Corazón de María. It’s arriving at noon. He’ll need to be picked up.”

Ah. Amado saw where this was going. “And I suppose I’ll be doing that personally, huh? I might be busy Wednesday, I don’t know if I’ll have time to fly to Chiapas.”

“I wouldn’t dream of telling you how to run your operation, Amado.” 

The uncertainty in Amado’s belly curled a bit tighter at the way Pacho said his name. It was as casual as it was intimate, the menace implied. “Sure,” said Amado. 

On Pacho’s end there came a wild, roaring cheer and a flurry of exuberant sound. A goal, maybe. 

“I’m up,” Pacho said. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you.”

“Yeah.” Amado hesitated. “You too.”

“Oh,” said Pacho. “The man I’m sending. Navegante. Be respectful to him.”

Amado frowned. What the hell did Pacho think he was going to do, ditch his sicario at the airport and call his mother a pigfucker? “I understand how things work,” he echoed. 

“Certainly.” There was a definite edge of humor in Pacho’s voice. “Have a lovely day, Amado.” He hung up before Amado could respond.

Amado stared at the phone in his hand, blinking. “What the fuck, man,” he muttered.

“Good talk?” asked Aguilar.

Amado turned around. He tugged his sunglasses down his nose so he could properly aim a double middle finger. “Funny joke. Give me some fucking warning next time, huh?”

Aguilar squinted innocently, the folder still open in his hands. “What do you mean?”

Amado shook his head. He headed for the door. “Never mind, asshole.”

[normal-thoughts-official]

your “luke and alaric are married af” series made me transcend. they absolutely ARE. when i watched the show i really expected them to be in a canon relationship bc. it just seemed obvious. (me and magnus: you mean you’re NOT married??????) i’m surprised it’s such a small ship tbh. there is so much potential... i would love to hear more from u!!!!! what ideas do u have? first dates? how does maia react (i bet she’s like... duh? you’re my dads)? the story of luke’s epiphany omg???

for real!!! the chemistry and the love between them was so real and palpable and like hello? the way they always were on each other's corner? the Partners to Lovers dynamic?? the obvious mutual respect they had even though they were always butting heads? the way they always seemed to be growing together and not just fighting??? again the CHEMISTRY?? the fun little snippets we had like "it's never too early for teriyaki"?? literally we had so much to build an amazing romance and alaric is such a minor character his actor isn't even an actor he's a stunt double

like they had what 5 scenes and they all had such a great setup for romance or even for them to have been married the whole time??? they certainly had old married couple dynamics. fuck jocelyn i am speaking her out of existence. also i mean open relationships but why would luke even have a relationship with jocelyn when he had an actually good relationship to compare it to?

also the potential of their getting together being tied up to some personal growth from luke as an alpha and a downworlder in general like... most of their conflicts was because a part of luke still felt indebted to shadowhunters and their heritage and he kept putting the wolves last, and it would have been so good to see luke slowly realizing that he doesn't owe them shit and he gets to prioritize his own people and the people who are there for him, and him eventually choosing alaric over jocelyn being tied to choosing himself as he is now to who he used to be as a (terrible) shadowhunter...

not that it's alaric's job to fix luke obviously, but i don't think it would be "fixing" and this definitely wouldn't be a "teaching luke out of racism" story because when luke helped alaric as he became a werewolf he was already somewhat settled into werewolf life. i just think that a part of luke feels like he still owes loyalty to the people who hated him and it could have been a nice parallel to see him letting this go and getting with alaric. especially because alaric never coddled him, so, you know. and i think luke needed that little push in that sense. and alaric meanwhile would also be growing more confident into his role in the pack and in their job and getting the support he obviously still needed, and like, it could have been so good? definitely rocky before they sorted it out, but good. and of course sh had to waste the opportunity without even giving it thought because when don't they

anyway!!! as for your actual questions! first date is honestly so hard for me because i feel like their first date would feel like their billionth date. again i say, THEY ARE MARRIED whether they know it or not. so i can see their first official date going one of two ways: it's very lowkey, nothing they haven't done a thousand times before (like going to a small little family restaurant that they like, eating together, talking, maybe sharing a milkshake and they feel stupid but they're giggling and can't stop smiling and it makes them so happy that who cares) and it's absolutely PERFECT; OR they try to go all out and make it special and ~woo~ each other and it feels a little weird at first but it's still good and they get to enjoy the romantic ambience, hold hands over the table, and they're both a little shy because it feels like such a leap but it feels right

im gonna elaborate a little bit on both because i really love both??? so like they go to this little joint that is not the jade wolf or anything too close because they want to have this moment for tHEMSELVES, away from wherever anyone else from work or the shadow world might see them and from where they would think about it and associate with it. i am thinking... ohh some nice little place near where alaric's grown up? i'm headcanoning him as hondureño since we got no specifics other than his last name being rodriguez and i'm feeling like making him central american

and ALSO a great typical honduran dish is marinated meat and since luke is a beef jerky fan he would be all over that shit. i headcanon that luke knows alaric's family to some extent (i made a very quick reference to that in the second fic of the series) and i really love to think that luke has been to at least a few carneadas with alaric and his family?? which is aaaaaa another whole thing to talk about i might get back to it in a second but the DATE

also i like to think that luke would fall in love with rice and beans/casamiento because that is my rights. so like them going to the restaurant and having some meat (it's not really a carneada outside of the context of a carneada and for a date but like.. maybe pinchos or ye regular steak with urucum? i've had that in central brazil a few times and god i love it to death. or maybe chimol which sounds like something luke would like) with casamiento, tajadas, u know, the regular stuff? and it's lowey intimate because they are sharing the dish and it's something from alaric's culture you know??? god damn it i'm still talking about food. ONTO THE DATE

the point is that it's very casual and intimate but also uplifting and fun because this is a honduran restaurant we are talking about, so there's probably music, noise, alaric knows the family that runs it and possibly luke does too but they still have their space. maybe they get to dance a little bit because please god i am begging you, and luke has never had too many opportunities to dance before but it turns out he is a natural even if a little self conscious. i am picturing them dancing salsa which i kNOW is not an honduran dance but if the restaurant just leaves a Latin Music™ radio on as they usually do in latino restaurants in the US it's not that unlikely that it would play. and with alaric not being actually cuban he wouldn't humiliate luke too much. lmao

anyway most of the time they are just talking and teasing each other and every time luke takes a bite of the food he moans a little bit because he's a sucker for marinated meat and alaric wasn't even the one to cook it but goddamn if he doesn't feel proud of himself. and they share a drink (i guess the milkshake idea doesn't fit as well here but whatever they will get two straws for their iced tea or Tropical if they're feeling silly or agua de ensalada if they're feeling traditional. the point is that the lack of milkshake won't stop them from doing their dumb sappy thing) and are kind of laughing the whole time because it feels so teenage-y but to be fair luke DID just find out he was bisexual and figuring out your sexuality always brings in second puberty in terms of experiences. and alaric is not going to complain because it feels so sweet and right

and then the dancing which is fun and intimate and a little challenging for luke even if they aren't Full On Dancing Salsa, just a few moves here and there together but they get to be close and intimate and maybe alaric does some impromptu spinning and it makes them both laugh and maybe rub their noses together while they laugh and they are being so silly but they don't care

and basically they go home after hours, as you do, holding hands and a little drunk on each other, bumping shoulders on the way, alaric resting his head on luke's shoulder and luke on top of alaric's? and it makes walking a little awkward but god They Don't Care. and it just feels so perfect, like home and family and everything they are to each other :))))

really wanna add an "and then they fuck like rabbits" at the end but anyway i'll try not to ruin it

second date option! full out fanciness. they are already partners, they have seen each other in every possible situation, they know their worse, they know their married ways, but they want to have a ROMANTIC first date! lay thick their new relationship status. woo each other! show each other what amazing caring boyfriends/husbands they are. be adults!

they pick some fancy restaurant that luke may or may not have gotten suggested to him by magnus when he called him in a bit of panic because he is not very well versed in fancy restaurants and the like. maybe magnus even takes that extra step and portals them somewhere extra romantic like venice or whatever but i think they'd want to be independent in terms of going there and back so maybe not. anyway the point is, fancy restaurant! suits! they are a bit more nervous than they usually would because they haven't been in a place like this in waaayyy too long and they've never done anything remotely similar to that together before so it feels like a new territory and they kiinda want to prove something even though that's stupid because they've already chosen each other

but it goes well???? not as natural as the first date idea but that might just be me and thinking that casualness is the most romantic thing, and either way, it still feels so right and good. they get to sip wine, hold hands over the table, say something sweet to each other over entrees, share dessert, bicker over who gets to pay. again the marriedness of it all absolutely slips through but there is that new element that they are getting to explore and that feels so nice

and it's never stilted and forced, even if they are a little nervous, they are still themselves and it goes down smoothly and they are happy that it worked so well because there is always that fear in a best friends to lovers kinda situation that things will just feel weird, especially when you're both adults and have so much history. but it doesn't, it feels romantic and new and exciting and as they leave they tease each other a little bit like "after you, gentleman" and laugh together 🥺🥺🥺

and they have their first kiss as they leave and they both linger a little bit as they just stand under the stars and keep their eyes closed and their hands linked together and i need a moment oh my god

this got too long so i'm separating the answers for the different questions: maia's reaction (link), luke's epiphany (link)

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Truth Pt. 5

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Request: What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: Physical violence, (non-major) character death, blood

A/N: First fic of 2019!!! WOO! And it’s a fucking doozy... I’ve never written a battle like this before so it was certainly an adventure. I hope it reads well. 

This damn fucking story. How did I get here?! I feel like I’ve been hijacked and held for ransom. But... I like it...? I’m also enjoying really working some of the other Avengers into this. 

Anyway I hope you’re enjoying the ride this enemies to lovers thing is taking us all on!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @peachthatdrinkslemonade @breezy1415  @wonderlandmind4 @handplucked @piensa-bonito @midnightdream83  @buckysstar

Four days later Tony’s voice pipes up while you’re making your first cup of coffee.

“Hey Sparky,” his somewhat endearing nickname for you, “we got a job to do. Meet in the briefing room in an hour.”

“You got it, boss.”

Perfect. A mission was exactly what you needed to get your mind off of everything. Sure he’d be there but your focus would be on the task at hand not what happened between you. Plus it would feel good to fuck some Hydra agents up.

Sam barrels into you on your way to the briefing room, “Where the hell you been, girl?”

You shrug, “Around.”

He huffs, “We need to work on that move soon. Stark thinks he’s got the wings just right so they can deflect your energy and not freak out.”

“Oh, nice! So you can be my own personal jetpack!”

“I was thinking you’d be my laser gun, but to each their own.”

“I should really get my finger gun skills up to par then.” You hold your hands up in the quintessential finger gun style and make points of light glow at the tips of your middle and index fingers.

“If you could get on that immediately it would be great,” Sam laughs, “and be sure to make the ‘pew pew’ noise as you shoot those assholes down.” Continuing down the hall you both proceed to make shooting noises at the other laughing at your ridiculousness.

Before getting to the door you pause and enact a dramatic battle ending. Someone sighs audibly behind you. Bucky, er Barnes, whatever, stands, hands shoved in his pockets looking truly put upon by your display.

“Man, how is it you can ruin a good time without saying a damn word?” Sam grumbles at him.

“It’s a gift,” Bucky responds dryly.

You put a hand on Sam’s arm, “Come on, we’ll finish our battle when the geriatric isn’t around.” Casting Bucky a sidelong glance you head inside and take your usual spot.

Hovering above the table is an image of a low non-nondescript building in an industrial area, a live feed from one of Tony’s stealth drones, schematics, and personnel info. On the table, are pastries. You grab a cronut and pass another down to Nat who sits to your right.

Tony sighs before beginning, that was never a particularly good sign. “So this place,” he makes the static image fill the viewing area, “came on our radar a couple of months ago. Natasha and Clint tried to do some recon but came up pretty cold.”

“Yeah,” Nat pipes up, “there’s obviously set personnel there, shipments coming in of what seem to be medical supplies, but other than that it seems pretty neutral.”

“Where is it?” Sam asks.

“Just outside of Chicago,” Steve replies. “Mainly an industrial region but there are suburbs not far away.” Suburbs meant civilians. Sam runs a hand over his face.

“Either of you, know anything about this one?” Tony points to you and Bucky. For a second you hold one another’s stare, a tingle inches up your spine.

“I don’t,” you answer tearing your eyes away. “The medical shipments could mean something but it could also just be a way station for them. They had plenty of those.”

“Are we sure it’s Hydra?” Bucky asks not directly answering Tony’s question.

“I’m assuming you don’t know anything about this one either, Manchurian Candidate?” Bucky nods.

“We’re sure,” Clint says. “We found reference to it in the Hydra files from S.H.I.E.L.D. but no information other than the location.” That was pretty standard.

You sigh, “Schematics?” There had been some kind of blueprint on the screen a minute ago.

Tony flicks his hand bringing it up, “Barely. I have the actual blueprint of the building but the draw on the power grid here implies there’s more than what we’re seeing.” He pushes the map to the side and brings up the live feed, “I’ve been scanning it for 24 hours to see if I can get a read but there’s something blocking it that I can’t get past.”

He moves his hands to bring everything up in equal measure for you all to study. Once Tony thinks enough time has passed he speaks, “So, what do we think? Go in with what we have or sit on it?” He’s asking the room but looking at Steve, the two of them being the unofficial leaders here.

“If we sit on it there is a chance people could get hurt and if we go in there’s the same chance. I don’t like going in practically blind but I don’t know that we can risk letting any Hydra base we find fester for long.” Steve says, nods of agreement from around the table from everyone but Bucky. “Maybe we take a small team, ground ops.” That meant you, him, Bucky, and Natasha. Great.  

“I’m ok with that, it’s too close to residences for my comfort,” Bruce says, relief visible. He would have gone if asked but he’s so happy to not have to.

“I’m happy to hang back for backup if needed,” Sam says. Steve nods.

“If you think that’s the best call. We will all be close by in case. Except for you Banner,” Tony gives him a reassuring nod.

“Let’s suit up then,” Steve says and with that, you all disperse.

[Bucky]

The jet lands a few miles away from the targeted location and you all load up into an armored van. In the close quarters, he swears he can smell your shampoo, something with vanilla. It makes him think of burying his face in your neck. Not the time, Buck. He thinks to himself.

Other than the exchange this morning he hadn’t seen you save for that glimpse in the gym. Neither of you had exchanged a word still and were actively avoiding the other. However, as Sam drives over a particularly rough patch of road, sending the four of you jostling a bit your eyes meet and he swears they sparkle just a touch in the near black of the van.

He doesn’t like this mission. Not one bit. Steve told him he was being paranoid. This would likely be like most of the others, a partially deserted base with a handful of people, easy enough to take out. Something ate at him though. He just wished he knew what it was or that he had a few days to work it out…

The van stops. If everything was going according to plan Sam was walking around to open the doors from inside a deserted warehouse a couple of blocks away. As they open Bucky braces himself, already prepared for things to go south. It’s just Sam though, exactly where they were supposed to be.

Steve senses his tension and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Come on Ms. Daisy, we don’t have all fuckin’ day,” Sam jabs. Bucky hops out, on alert and the three of you follow. Sam gets in the back where you all were, hitting a button that makes the cabin come to life with Stark tech. “I’ll be your eye in the sky. Go get ‘em.”

Outside the building, you all pause, waiting for the all clear from Sam, once given you stalk inside. It’s quiet, very quiet. A generic two-story industrial workspace opens before you, housing some kind of metalworking machinery, and offices toward the back.

Sam’s voice comes in quietly over the coms, “I’m not reading any life signs besides y’all in the building right now.” That wasn’t right because they knew five men had come in earlier and you hadn’t seen them leave.

You crouch down and lay your hands on the ground, light pulsing around your fingers. Nodding you say, “There’s something under us. I can feel the heat.”

“Think you can blow the power?” Steve asks you.

“Not without blowing the whole block out,” you respond.

Bucky can’t shut up, “That’s a bad call.” He gives Steve a steady stare. “It’ll immediately alert them of our presence.”

“Got a better plan?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, we leave.”

“No dice,” Nat says as she whips out a gun and shoots two guards heading down the stairs by the offices. Shit.

“Blow it,” Steve says looking at you. Bucky shakes his head but you ignore him. Laying your hands on the ground they start to glow, pulling in kinetic energy before you send a low pulse that blasts every electrical circuit in range.

A siren can be heard from underground, “What the hell did I say?” Bucky growls running and taking out the few others coming down.

Steve barrels ahead toward the offices, you hot on his heels, no doubt assuming an access point is somewhere back there. A minute later him and Natasha catch up to you. Things are quiet again, save for the low wail of the siren.

Natasha ducks into an office, “Here,” she hisses. As she hits a button the desk moves to reveal stair access. This had to be an old facility, Bucky hadn’t seen something so rudimentary in decades.

Slowly you all descend. Steve at the front, shield up. Bucky right behind him, as always. Then Nat and you bringing up the rear. At the bottom of the stairs, there’s no one, no rushing guards or panicked drones. Just a long hallway extending to the left and right flooded with red light and that maddening sound. As if to say told you so Steve glances back at Bucky a small smile on his lips.

As soon as four agents come barreling toward them Bucky makes a mental note to slap Steve upside the head, with his left hand, the next time the opportunity presents itself.

[Reader]

When you see the agents shooting down the hallway you groan internally. Something told you this was going to be a shit show and these guys were just the opening act.

“Get down!” you say loud enough for your team to hear and shoot a concentrated bar of energy toward the assailants. It was… gruesome. You were used to it. But hopefully, the sight of their comrades mangled smoking bodies would deter anyone from coming from that direction.

“Split,” Steve orders. Automatically you and Natasha head the direction of the agents you took out, effortlessly avoiding the gore.

There’s a lot of electricity being used here. What you had knocked out was only a fraction. You can feel the whirring of maybe a hundred or more heavy duty generators under the building, and it’s hot, oven hot. This is great for you because it gives you plenty of ammo, knowing this she lets you take the lead.

The slightest sound of footsteps greet your ears and a small grunt comes from Nat. You spin on your heels. There’s a woman with her arms around Natasha’s neck. She’s… muzzled. Shit. An asset, not an agent. Nat and you have a system though. Spinning around, acting as though she’s trying to free herself she puts the asset in your line. Laying your hand on her head you put her down, quickly, painlessly.

When she falls Natasha notices the muzzle. Her eyes find yours, the silent, You good, passing between you. You nod and keep going. Hoping this was a one-off.

Silence, still, save for the siren. The presence of the generators is bothering you. Everything is lit by that red emergency light. But those things were running something.

The floor plan seems to be a loop because you hear the boys scuffling just to your right as the hallway opens to a large open space. Papers are scattered, drawers tumped over, desks on their side people left here fast.

“Sam,” you ask into the com. Nothing but static. Fuck. There was definitely something here blocking the signal.

Steve and Bucky round the corner. Immediately you seek out Bucky’s eyes but you don’t have to see them to get the answer to your question. In his left hand is a muzzle, blood dripping from it to the floor.

Goddamnit. These were the worst kind of fights, taking out your own. And there was never any way to tell without prior intel who was a Hydra devotee and who had been taken against their will. The only reason Steve pulled you instead of killing you was the intel they had on you from Bucky and a bit from the Hydra files to corroborate. 

You swallow the bile in your throat, fighting the phantom feeling on the muzzle over your face, and keep going. Focus on the mission. Clear the facility. That was your job.

“I don’t think there’s anyone left,” Natasha says behind you. Desperately you want her to be right but you know she’s not. Those generators.

“Let’s be sure,” Steve says slowly stalking forward as Bucky tosses the muzzle to the ground. When your eyes meet he doesn’t really see you. That’s fine.

There’s a glass partition after the empty open office space. Doors leading further underground. Power licks up your arms, hot and throbbing. This is where the generators are pumping uninterrupted electricity you realize as you enter what appears to be a medical site. A memory tickles the back of your brain.

Bucky and Steve are at the front, methodically swiveling into each small room, opening each curtain, you and Natasha poised to take out anything or anyone that may emerge. Another open space is ahead. Your mouth goes dry. You hiss in a sound and something like a whining growl comes from Bucky.  

A chair.

Every muscle in your body tenses. A hot burning throb lashes up your spine. You can see the plates in Bucky’s arm shift up and down again and again in response to the panic.

This was an Asset Facility. This was a place where they tore people apart and stitched them back together in Hydra’s image. It was in places like this you and Bucky had been made or rather... unmade… You just didn’t think there were any in the states… Stupid assumption. So far, though, all the team had found were R&D facilities, way stations, and holding sites. Not hell mouths like this.

Steve approaches the chair, he knows what it is even if he hadn’t seen one in person. “Don’t,” Bucky grinds out. You’re thankful for it. Seeing someone approach it fills you with a dread you can’t name. Steve looks back at his best friend and you can see the horror, anger, and worry blend on his face.

The sound of a large metal lock echoes over the now distant wail of the siren. Everyone is frozen for a second… And that second is everything.

A strangely familiar bolt of heat shoots your direction. It’s not accurate buzzing and pulsing random bits of energy rather than a knife blade like yours. Bucky pulls Steve down and you grab Natasha. It slams into the steel wall behind you and a groaning sound resonates.

Looking up you see someone, head shorn, muzzled but in a hospital gown. They’re bone thin, dirty, head twitching, chair marks fresh on their face. All across their body are white tendrils of light glowing. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You can’t think, can’t move, can only see this person and know they feel like they’re inside of a lightning storm, you know they feel like their atoms are being torn apart bit by bit and they can’t stop it or contain it. They can’t even scream out in pain for fucks sake.

Natasha takes a shot but the asset dodges. You come back to yourself then and hurl Nat away as you catch a ball of energy thrown at her. It throbs then snakes its way into your body, burning, through you as you absorb it. 

You scream in pain but raise to your feet. Steve attempts to throw his shield at them and instead takes a messy lash of hot energy across the chest. This asset is fast, even if their release is crude.

“Steve!” Bucky bellows and catches him. You look back to the asset keeping their distance and see them pulse bright and hot all over. Fuck. Bucky sees it too and literally throws Steve at you while rushing for the shield.

You catch him, he’s conscious, though he’s going to be feeling this for at least a week. “Get them the fuck out of here, Y/N!” Roaring Bucky charges the asset and you realize he is just trying to hold them off, give you all enough time before they blow. Shit.

“No!” Steve yells as you drag him along. You do as Bucky says and get them to the entrance of the med ward when you hear a loud crackle. Bucky roars. Steve looks at you, not Captain America at this moment but a scared kid horrified he’s going to lose the only family he has left.

“Take him,” you say. Natasha nods holding Steve’s arm over her shoulder. “Do not stop. Get to the van. Get as far away as you can. Don’t wait for us. Go!” You spin on your heels and bolt back the way you came.

They’re too close to one another for you to take a shot. The asset is on Bucky, an inhuman noise coming from behind the muzzle. God, this was you at some point. Some wraith with only one goal in mind. Kill the target.

You let loose a blast of energy next to them and the asset’s focus shoots to you. Now that you’re a little closer you can see them more clearly, a woman, her skin bubbling and burned, body unable to contain this force that lived within you both.

Bucky moves under her and her focus shoots back to the easier of the two targets present. Another sound comes from her and he throws her back, using the shield for leverage. She slams against the wall. Bucky looks at you, his expression murderous.

There isn’t any time to waste. You see the pulse of light before he does. In an instant you’re in front of him, catching more of that undisciplined energy. It sears its way into you as you try to wrangle it but you hold in your scream, not wanting Steve or Nat to somehow hear and come back.

She’s suffering, this woman before you. A part of you wishes you could save her, help her, but you know the only way to ease her pain is release. With that thought, you direct her own energy back at her blasting a neat five-inch hole straight through her heart. The energy in her body pulses but dissipates as she collapses to the ground eyes seeing nothing, body feeling no more pain. Something in you goes dark when she does.

You know Bucky is ok enough to not need immediate attention if any, so you run the direction the asset came needing to know that there wasn’t another. He calls your name but you ignore him. No one was going to suffer like that anymore on your watch. There are only two cells, sensibly most Asset Facilities only worked on one or two projects at a time.

One cell is open, clearly, the one the woman had come from. The other is locked but you fry the old lock and pry it open. The sight inside is gruesome, a body, charred beyond recognition. They had burned out in here alone. You slam the door shut and stride back the way you came.

He’s kneeling over the woman, taking her muzzle off. Slowly, almost delicately he closes her eyes.

“We’re clear,” you bark and keep heading out. You pause, turn, and send a burning bolt of power, hot enough to melt some of the metal and render it useless straight to the chair.

“What the fuck!” He was far enough from it to not be hurt, not far enough to not be startled. You say nothing.

As soon as you emerge in the above ground space you hear the com signal open. “We’re clear,” you say again.

“Thank god,” Tony’s voice responds. They’ve pulled up outside the building. Exactly what you told them not to do. You burn a bit with annoyance.

As you exit Bucky spins you around. “What the fuck did I say?!” He’s in your face screaming, feeling so much more emotion than you right now you almost envy him. “I said get them out,” he gestures to Steve and Natasha.

“We’re out Bucky don’t-“

“I wasn’t talking to you Rodgers,” Bucky’s tone is icy as he cuts him off.

Rather than respond you let the heat build up under his hands. Hotter and hotter until he hisses pulling the flesh one away, the metal staying put for a moment until it’s glowing red. No one moves and he finally let's go.

You grab him by the neck, spinning him a bit and forcing him down on the ground, straddling him the way she had. It takes an instant. There’s the rustle of bodies around you but you hold up your left arm, lashing tendrils of light curl around it in warning.

“Next time,” you hiss your breath making clouds in the cooling air around you, “I’ll just fucking let you die.” You release him.

When you stand everyone is staring at you. Unsure, afraid. Good. He was right. They needed to remember what kind of monsters were among them.