Hive receives an invitation from a past they would rather forget and Bucky finds that there may be more than self-preservation in his need to find out what his new roommate is up to.
Read this chapter on AO3 here.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 5
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Nonbinary OC
Rating: T
CW: Canon-typical violence, mind control, tampering with someone’s drink, drugging, attempted abduction, collaring, violent death, blood loss, misgendering
Prompts Filled:
@fandom-free-bingo Flight Edition : Betrayal
@fandom-free-bingo Wild Edition : A crack in the mirror
@fandom-free-bingo World Book Night Edition : Drugged
@fandom-free-bingo Maritime May Edition : Mind control
@febuwhump 2024 : Day 10 – Killing in self-defence
@fluffbruary 2024 : Day 9 – Urgency
@lgbtqbingo : Bar fight
@multifandom-flash Round 2 : The men in black
@multifandom-flash Character (Bucky Barnes) : Lost companion
@whumpuary 2024 : Day 3 – Used as bait
@fandombingo Reverse 1999 : Manipulated into a trap
@fandombingo Reverse 1999 : Tracking someone down to save them
@sweetspicybingo Hurt/Comfort Edition : Blood loss
@badthingshappenbingo : No good deed goes unpunished
@badthingshappenbingo : Tampering with food/drink
Dividers by @unfortunate-beetle-and-friends
“Each betrayal begins with trust.”
Martin Luther
Hive tidied without much direction for an hour before the stillness of the place started to worm into their brain. The walls got closer. They found themself touching their scarred surfaces as though that would stop their advance. Their nails were packed with cheesy plaster and flakes of paper; texture after texture demanded to be smoothed lest it keep grating on their soul like sandpaper. Eventually their nailbeds were smarting. Rather than pull apart the whole building scrap by scrap, they went out. Possible destinations were both far too many and hardly any at all. Anything that needed money was out. Anywhere they might be too readily noticed was a problem. They wound up in the park. There were plenty of people around and, while other people meant more witnesses, they also meant camouflage. They took a book from their small stash and passed easily enough for a student with some time to kill. From time to time, their eyes lifted from the book as if trying to tune in to distant sounds or catch some too-quiet words. No one paid them any attention.
Oh god, help… please, please help me…
Their head snapped up.
Please, I don’t want to… I can’t.
Hive’s face whipped one way then the other, their dark hair lashing their cheeks. Every face around them looked as oblivious as could be. Fuck. They knew that voice.
They dodged down crowded streets, ducking along alleys, taking the quickest route they knew in a direction they’d promised themself never to go. The voice resurged, not so faint, but irregular, as though a mind could be out of breath.
Where… am I? So hungry…
Hive winced, recalling a very similar internal monologue. Where was he? How could he possibly be in range? Even for this broken up attempt to communicate. Their mind strained. It amazed them that other people couldn’t hear it. Apparently this was a private call. Fuck. Not good. Not good at all.
They got three blocks too far north before they stopped and ducked into a doorway, breathing too hard, head spinning, arms tight across their chest. Images of the empty apartment flooded their brain, images of Bucky standing in the hall and wondering, maybe even searching. They stood shivering and hugging themself.
They wished they could ignore the voice, go back, get some sleep, rest their aching bones…
Help me… Hive, please…
They whimpered and squeezed themselves tighter, pinching their arms through their hoodie. They had to go. The whimper became an angry whine. They jabbed a foot into the wall and cried out, tears filling their eyes. Then they turned, limping, back towards the apartment.
They didn’t stay long, just long enough to pull out their notebook and scribble their apologies, and to take advantage of the quiet.
Ady?
Hive! I need help…
You’re out? How?
Complicated. Can we – I need to see someone. A – a friendly face. Meet me?
A friendly face… Hive wasn’t sure if they wanted to laugh or throw up.
Where?
They figured something out. A meeting place, crowded enough to allow them anonymity and somewhere people tended not to give a shit who was around anyway. Hive only knew it because it was about the only place they’d observed Bucky attending other than work and the grocery store. If there was anywhere a metal hand around a tumbler could go unnoticed through sheer lack of interest, it was that shithole. And if there was anywhere no one would have a hope of recalling the faces of two fugitives tomorrow morning…
It took them a while to get together some supplies, not having much stashed and lacking the cash to do things the easy, legal way. The limp added an unnecessary challenge to the game of going unnoticed. A couple of security guards had to develop sudden nosebleeds but eventually they were standing on the street above the basement bar, chewing their lip as they stared down the iron stairs. Ady… Their skin crawled. They could feel their control, their entire presence, slipping. Just like it had before. When the only way to resist was to play a sick game of musical chairs in their own body, everyone trying not to be the one in control when the music stopped...
Steady… Invisible hands held them and pushed them gently but firmly back into themself. We don’t have to do this, but if we’re going to then we should get it over with. Standing out here isn’t safe.
He needs our help. He isn’t going to hurt us.
And if he only just got out, he may have information we can use.
A deep breath of the foetid gutter-tinged air did more to upset their stomach than soothe their nerves but it did help to drive them off the street. He was sitting at a table in the corner. His cheeks were more hollow than ever. He was staring at a drink in front of him as though he’d forgotten how to transfer the liquid to his mouth. Thinking about it, it might have been years since the poor bastard was last allowed to pick up his own glass, or have a glass at all. A mutant who could do what he could certainly couldn’t be allowed any more freedom than absolutely necessary. That leash was kept tight. How he had ever slipped it was a mystery. They slid into the opposite chair.
“You came.” The fact sounded like it caused him pain.
“I, yeah, ‘course I did. You needed help.” They toed the duffel bag towards him under the table, regretting it when their toes ached dark and hot, nausea surging in their gut. They were pretty sure their foot would be vivid purple when they got home and took that sock off. “This is for you. I can find you somewhere to stay. You'll need to, you know, keep your head down for a little while…” For a moment they pictured Bucky’s expression should they show up on the doorstep with another stray in tow. No, wouldn’t work. But their old hideout was probably secure enough for a day or two while they figured out how to get him a long, long way away. They weren’t sure exactly how far the enemy’s reach extended but it was a fair bet that nowhere inside the US would be safe enough. Maybe Bucky knew more about where someone like Ady could go unnoticed with some basic precautions. Somewhere remote enough that his nightmares would trouble no one but the wildlife. “Does it work on animals?” Hive winced even as the words left their mouth. They hadn’t intended to ask. It could at the very least have waited. What a time for their vocal chords to detach from their brain.
Ady’s head dipped, hiding his face deeper in the shadows of his hood. He’d never really made his peace with the shaved head, they knew. Endless exploratory surgeries were the lot of captive mutants but when your abilities were so very brain-centred… well, his skull had been drilled into so many times, it was amazing there was enough left to hold his brain in.
“No, ‘it’ doesn’t. They can’t hear me, or if they can then they don’t understand. And I can’t make – it doesn’t affect them.” They saw him shiver inside his heavy coat.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have – you know what I’m like.”
“What you’re all like…” he curled a little tighter, peeking up at them out of the dark, more fearful than angry. “You seem like just… you. How are the rest of them do-”
“Don’t. Don’t talk about them.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – I never wanted to hurt any of you.”
“Don’t, Ady.”
“Lex – have you – has he -”
“Fucking stop. Christ, learn when to fucking stop.”
He flinched as though they’d struck him, and their stomach clenched as though the blow had rebounded. Their skin felt icy cold but the cold was radiating from somewhere much deeper. They needed to get out from under Ady’s pale, watery gaze. It was deceptive, that look, and they knew it as well as anyone. It was so lost, so full of need for care, connection, and it crept in, touching what you wanted no one to know was there. They shoved away from the table so hard their chair rocked. Ady looked up in panic and Hive allowed him a muttered “bathroom” to quiet his alarm. But all they got to soothe their own distress was dingy tile and a cracked mirror under a flickering, stained light bulb. They needed a deep breath but that was a bad idea in here. They tried taking in a series of tiny gasps until they had a lungful to exhale slowly.
Lex… What fucking right did he have? How dare he? They leant over the chipped sink, close to retching, gripping the edge until they recognised the blood running from under their fingernails. Fuck. When had they last lost control like that? Oh, of fucking course. Ady. Poor Lex had always turned the lash inwards when he couldn’t hold out any longer. They stared at the blood – the only wholesome colour in the hopeless little room. It was lucky that, however their power worked, it left no open wounds; this place was a paradise for every kind of crap you didn’t want in your bloodstream. They stopped the bleeding and – wound or no wound – scrubbed their hands under the hottest water they could coax from the rusty tap. Then they stared at their reflection a little longer, willing the hectic blotches out of their cheeks, face divided into misaligned halves by the long scar in the glass.
Ady… Not what their custodians had called him, of course. He’d long acquired the nickname "Leash” when Hive was brought in.
I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… I only wanted – I wanted you to say he’d come back. That he wasn’t… and I hadn’t… I never wanted to kill anyone. I promise. Hive? Are… are you coming back?
Now wasn’t that the question. The supplies they’d collected for him were still under the table. If they walked right out, he could take them and go and they didn’t know where he’d end up or how long he’d last but they would have done something for him, more than anyone had done for them when they first got out. They could walk out guilt-free. And who would have little enough heart to blame them for steering clear of someone who’d done the things Ady had?
We would.
Things he was forced to do…
The voices didn’t come from Ady, or anywhere else outside their own head. It made them that much harder to shut out and their owners knew it.
It isn’t truer for Bucky than it is for Ady just because Ady hurt us.
They never took that fucking collar off him. What could he have done that he didn’t try?
“That he said he tried…” Hive muttered, unable to meet their own eyes in the mirror. They needn’t speak aloud to be heard but it felt better to hear their own words on the outside.
Like we did?
“We’re different.”
How do you figure that out?
“We are killers.”
You are, you mean.
“Fine, I am.”
And if you don’t take us back out there, I will. He’s no guiltier than we are. He needs help.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Hive glowered down at their shoes then rammed the bolt back. The glare melted away as soon as they saw the helpless fear on Ady’s face, even shrouded deep in that coat. Just looking at it made the sweat run faster inside Hive’s hoodie, already too many layers for comfort in the bar’s close atmosphere.
They slid back into their seat. A drink had appeared in front of them.
“Got you a drink. To say sorry. And thank you, for coming when I called. I’d have understood if you’d ignored me.”
They eyed the glass. “You have money?”
“A little.” His eyes shifted away, gluing his gaze to the corner of the table. Hive heard what he didn’t say.
They lowered their voice. “Didn’t pay for it, huh?”
He gave his head a tiny shake. They could see his hands were twisting in his lap. Part of them was glad he felt guilt or anxiety or both. An uncharitable part they tried to silence, but not one they could blame on anyone else.
“You need to be careful. You know it leaves traces sometimes, and this place has a lot of potential witnesses. It’d be really easy to wind up back home if the wrong person sees.”
His hands tugged at his sleeves. He thought they were telling him off. And in their world that meant pain was sure to follow. They swallowed a mouthful of sharp memories and lifted their glass.
“It’s okay. You aren’t in trouble. I just need you to be careful, okay? I don’t want either of us going back there.”
He made a strange jerky movement towards them as they sipped; they guessed he’d wanted to reach for their hand. Seemed like he’d decided against it as he flinched back again, though Hive hadn’t even reacted. Did he – they thought they might have heard him whimper. God, he was going to be hard work. They took a breath, and a longer drink. The faint burn in their throat wasn’t especially pleasant but the room was so hot. It was starting to spin. Too many voices. Too many sounds and textures and moving bodies. When had the lights become so bright? Their stomach churned. They tried to grip the glass again only to find their fingers numb and clumsy. Ady was rocking, the movement nauseating to focus on.
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m
“Ady…” Their mouth felt like it was full of cloth. “What did you do?”
It wasn’t Bucky who left the building and began to scour the streets for a trace of Hive's direction. The agency steering his body might have owed him a great deal but they were not the same. This individual stalked his target from block to block with predatory focus as much as he covered the ground with a soldier’s discipline, quartering his territory systematically. As his hunt drew out longer and longer frustration began to infect him. Sickening him. Turning his determination into anger. His pace quickened into a wolfish lope, but he was becoming inescapably aware that his search was directionless. Hive could be anywhere. Any building. Any subway. They could be on a Greyhound headed right across the country. What possible hope did he have of finding them? His pace ground to a halt. Strength flooded out of him. The impulse to find them kept up its powerful beat in his chest but it was futile. He breathed hard. Air felt thick. Heavy and poisonous. Foul in his mouth. Nowhere to go. No forward path. Where were they?
When the hand fell on their shoulder, it felt like a hundred kilo weight. They slumped underneath it. A whisper of protest was the most they could utter as their hood was dragged down and light flooded their face. Someone was speaking, low and even, over their head. Their ears were ringing. They were pulled from their seat and steered by their elbows back towards the toilet, past the rotting bathroom door and down a gloomy passageway. Whatever Ady had given them turned every sense up to one hundred. No useful input, nothing they could trust to get their bearings, only an assault of sound and light and smell.
Uneven, mouldering carpet caught their toes and they went sprawling, the pain in their foot amplified unbearably. More pain exploded from their knees. The impact travelled the length of their spine in an instant. The strong, single sensation broke part way through the lethal fog in their brain, and at last they could fight. They launched themself up from the floor and fresh agony burst in their skull when it collided with a chin. Both Hive and their escort toppled, crying out and clutching their heads. Commands were yelled. Ady whimpered. Movement. Behind them. Chairs scraping.
There was a moment, just one, in which the swimming weight resettling on their brain lightened a little, and Hive lashed out with all their strength. Blood poured down their face and chest from their suddenly gushing nose. Someone else was yelling in horror and a heavy body crashed into them, slamming them into the wall. Something wrenched in their shoulder and they fell sobbing back to the floor, the falling weight still on top of them. They lay with their streaming nose in the disgusting carpet and an immovable weight crushing their lungs. At first the weight thrashed wildly, grinding Hive’s torso into the floor. Their lungs caught fire. Their chest was burned. The struggles became weaker, and finally there was only the suffocating mass on top of them. Someone dragged it off and hauled Hive to their knees. How many were there? Bloody hands held them in place. There was a commotion, a yell, behind them.
“Hold her. I’ve had about enough of this shit. Just get the fucking collar on her, will you? Or do you want to die too? And you, get him out of here.”
Ady whimpered again and Hive felt a new familiar pressure on their mind. They mentally squirmed to escape the snare but they were out of practice. They couldn’t break free.
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m sorry…
They stilled, waiting motionless while a heavy ring of metal was fastened shut round their throat. They couldn’t fight. Couldn’t move. It was too sudden. Their mind moved like it was setting in cement. The metal contacts were as ice cold as they remembered against the sides of their neck.
Can… anyone…? We need to…
No reply. They ran out of strength to plead. Air felt like acid as it half-filled their aching lungs.
Someone help me… please…
“For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.” - Nelson Mandela
Thank you, everyone who has stuck with Hive and Bucky this far. Sorry the updates are painfully slow. If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure that it hurts me more than it hurts most of you. @voiceoffenrisulfr might be the exception to that. There are another 2 chapters ready to post. One of them is already up on AO3, if you're impatient.
Warning/Tag(s): Graphic Description of Violence, Forbidden Love
Summary: What if Carlos had never been taken in by the core four, instead left to squalor for a few years longer before Uma discovered him? Taken in by the pirates of the Isle, chains of events are altered and certain VKs are left to run wild for a few years unaffiliated before being swooped up and shipped over to Auradon. In saying this, certain friendships--maybe even relationships--are left forbidden.
Event(s): @fandom-free-bingo with 'mutual pining' | @multifandom-flash with Beehive: 'forbidden friendship' and Double Flash with 'after action patch-up' | @eclipsingbingo with 'slammed into a wall'
Can be read here
Carlos whirled through the streets of the Isle, never trying to stay in one spot for too long. If living on the Isle had taught him one thing, it was either stand out and make sure everyone knew you were there so they would cower, or blend into the crowd as much as you possibly could until you could get back to your crew and have safety in numbers.
So that was exactly what Carlos was doing, hiding within the crowd as he made his way from his mother’s manor to the other side of the Isle with hurried steps so no one had the chance to recognise him where Ursula’s fish and chip store was located.
Though his name held weight with it, both from the insanity his mother had dissolved into and the recent growth in Uma’s name, and therefore his own. Though it had never been on his list of goals to be a recognisable figure on the Isle, rather sticking to the shadows as much as possible as he got by, he couldn’t say it was terrible to have an extra few seconds of hesitation when people ran into him and realised who he was. That didn’t mean he liked to hang around when he didn’t have the comfort of his allies.
He had become quite skilled at avoiding unwanted eyes even though everything about his presence seemed to scream for them. From his pearly white hair to the red, black and white leather jacket he wore, in most cases, you would expect Carlos to stick out, but when on an Isle where almost every second person was wearing something similar it became easier.
So Carlos believed that the surprise he felt as he was yanked from the street by the scruff of his jacket and pulled into one of the many backstreets was warranted, as well as the humiliating yelp that he let slip. Blind as to who had grabbed onto him, Carlos flailed his limbs around, trying to both hit his attacker and dislodge himself from their grip at the same time. It seemed nothing Carlos did work though as he was pulled further into the alleyway with only a grunt being pulled from the person who had dragged him.
It was only when a wickedly familiar laugh ran out around him, bouncing off the walls as Carlos was flipped around, his eyes landing on Harry Hook moments before he was slammed back, going crashing into the wall behind him as the air was knocked out of him and his vision went foggy for a few short moments.
“What the hell, Harry?” Carlos spluttered once he was able to suck a proper breath of air into his lungs, his brows narrowing down into a glare as he did so. In the few years that Carlos had been aligned with Harry, he had become accustomed to his out-of-pocket actions, all of which were rough and without much warning, but that didn’t mean he favoured any of them.
“Don’t act so surprised, Pup,” The nickname was whipped at him with a hiss, making him flinch back at the words. His reaction seemed to pull another laugh from Harry’s lips, knowing all the right ways on how to get under Carlos’ skin. Pulling Carlos from the wall and tucking him into his side with an arm hooked over his shoulders, Harry began to lead them in a new direction, helping them weave their way to whatever end destination Harry had in mind. “Uma wanted yer now and yer were takin’ too long to get yer boney arse over to the fish an’ chip shop. Someone had to come and get yer.”
“I was literally five minutes away. You’ve probably wasted more time going out of your way to do all this,” Carlos bit out, trying and failing to shoulder his side into Harry’s, the taller and bulkier simply smiling sharkishly down at him for his attempt. Though the two of them had come to tolerate one another, it didn’t mean Carlos could put up with him most days. “What’s so important anyway? Normally Uma would just scoff at me if I was late.”
“She wants the lot of us to go onto little ol’ Mal’s territory and stir up some trouble,” A bark of laughter shot out of Harry, echoing off the walls as if he were a hyena. It only worsened when he got a glance at Carlos’ face. “Don’t give me that look. We aren’t goin’ to kill anyone, just lightly wound. Besides, you’ll hopefully get to just sit pretty for us since Jay will be there.”
“What does Jay have anything to do with me being there,” Carlos grumbled, already feeling his face heat.
“Because that boy seems to be infatuated with yer,” There was an obvious amount of disgust in Harry’s words as he spoke, the ‘infatuation’ between the two bringing up vile into the back of Harry’s throat, the very idea of it being almost blasphemous. “Yer just have to bat yer eye and he’ll be rendered useless for a few minutes. Now come on, Gil and the others are goin’ to meet us there.”
Carlos wanted to say more, object to his words about Jay and even his presence at whatever this clash was meant to be, but instead swallowed his words and allowed Harry to pull him along. The best-case scenario was they didn’t run into Mal and her crew, or he was able to slip away when they did, hopefully, if Harry’s words were true, Jay would let him do so easily. Worst-case scenario Carlos was forced to fight and hopefully not get his arse kicked too much.
The closer the two of them got, the more Carlos doubted anything good would come from this. When they met up with Gil and some more of Uma’s crew it only solidified Carlos’ worse hopes.
It didn’t take long to locate Mal, Jay and Evie, the three of them with some kids their age that Carlos hadn’t seen before, a rare occasion due to how small the Isle was. He was sure if he had learnt their names he would recognise them more easily.
He didn’t pay attention to the words spoken between the two groups, his focus set on slipping away until his eyes landed on Jay. It seemed he had been staring at him since Carlos had first arrived since he seemed shocked that their eyes had finally met, his widening a little bit more. Taking him in quickly, Carlos seemed to notice every minor detail that made Jay up, seemed to not be able to pull his eyes away until someone’s fist came knocking into his arm, telling him to get ready.
That easily tore his eyes away, sending Carlos whirling back as he got prepared to back away. He didn’t mind if Jay noticed since he seemed to always have his eyes on him. It was the rest of the people he was met with that mattered. If someone on Mal’s side noticed him trying to dip out then they would surely point him out or try to go after him. If Harry or someone in Uma’s crew noticed they would either pull him back in or would make him pay for it later. Sneaking away had started to become more of a challenge than it had once been.
But as the VKs started getting fired up, each side only taunting the other more and getting ready to bring the worst out of one another, Carlos used this opportunity to slip away, making his moves quick and dashing as he slunk back, disappearing just before everything had gone to shit.
Slipping in between buildings and reaching for a fire escape that was haphazardly attached to the brick wall, Carlos had all of seventeen seconds before two large hands were gripping his shoulders. A hiss was the first thing that escaped his lips as he tried craning his shoulder away from the hold as fingers dug into some newly arising bruises thanks to Harry. It only occurred to him that he should try and figure out who had grabbed him when both hands had quickly vanished, reattaching themselves lower and around his waist.
“What are you-” Carlos cut himself off as he turned around, his eyes meeting with Jay’s almost instantly. Having to crane his neck back to meet his face, Carlos couldn’t help but stare as he felt the warmth from Jay’s hands spread across his midsection, almost burning. In a breathless whisper, Carlos said, “Jay.”
“Carlos,” Jay greeted with a nod. It looked as if his lips wanted to curve upwards but Jay had to stop himself. His hands didn’t leave their perch even as Carlos stared at him with questioning eyes. Jay should be worried that he was this close to Carlos since he was part of Uma’s crew, but he couldn’t help but not feel the slightest bit threatened as he stared into Carlos’ eyes. “Funny seeing you here. I thought you tended to keep your nose out of turf wars.”
“Normally I would,” Carlos agreed, his voice slightly spooked from the proximity, though he did nothing to change it. “You just happened to catch me at a bad time.”
“Really?” Jay asked, earning a hum in return. The white-haired boy seemed to almost lean into him as they stood close, breathing in each other's space.
Jay had so much he wanted to say, words waiting to spill out of him as they burst at the seams. For someone he should’ve hated, Jay couldn’t help but be interested in the shorter stray. At every opportunity he would steal glances at him in the crowd, would purposely not start anything just so he could attempt to steal some moments with him, most of which didn’t work out.
He wanted to say more to Carlos but didn’t have the opportunity as some imploding voices rang out around them, silencing him.
“Where’s Carlos?”
“He must have gone after Jay since that meathead went missing.”
“If that’s the case then I’m sure we’re going to hear some very entertainin’ stories from the Pup when he gets back.”
Harry’s voice was easily recognisable, making Jay’s teeth grind together. They seemed to have a similar effect on Carlos as he took some hurried steps back, both hiding from the voice even though they were out of sight and dislodging him from Jay’s light hold.
“I have to go,” The words rushed out of Carlos as he began looking for an escape room. Jay couldn’t help but wish he would stay longer. Once his eyes locked on a way out, he almost began running immediately, though he took a few seconds to turn to Jay, a half smile that looked both a little too strained but genuine. Carlos said before racing off, not waiting for Jay’s response, “I’ll see you around Jay. It was nice seeing you.”
“Bye Carlos,” Jay couldn’t help but whisper, a smile splitting across his face as he did so.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes(&) x Original Nonbinary Character(&) (Soldierbug&, pluralpoly)
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Domestic bliss is a transient state.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 1117.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> E. Feeling of being watched, potential paranoia, kidnapping/hostage situation, cliffhanger.
𝐀/𝐍 -> Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Masterlist can be found here. Dividers by us!
<- Chapter Nine
Chapter Eleven ->
Prompts ->
- ‘Hostage Situation’ – @eclipsingbingo (Dark);
- ‘“Just an Illusion.”’ – @fandom-free-bingo (Tolkien Edition);
- ‘Domesticity’ – @herohardshipsbingo;
- ‘(Try Not to) Get Kidnapped’ – @multifandom-flash (New Year – Gen).
Steve hung around for a few days, staying at my apartment, getting to know Winter and I while Mars got the store back up and running. It was strange to be myself with him; I knew I’d been around, at times, when he’d interacted with Bucky, but to sit before him as someone undeniably other felt different.
But he adapted quickly, learning more about what made us different, and I could see the variations in the way he spoke to Winter and I compared to how he spoke to Bucky – and I was thankful for it.
“He really seems to be getting it,” I gushed, blushing happily, Mars’ fingers wrapped tight in mine as we walked along the water, Zeus padding along ahead. “He’s trying, at least – can’t always tell who’s who, of course, but it’s nice. It’s good. Thank you,” I added, resting my head lightly on theirs. They squeezed my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to my shoulder.
“I didn’t really do anything, I mean…”
“You stood up for us,” I interrupted gently, stopping to stare down at them with open adoration. “Not many people in our lives have stood up for us before. But Greg, and you…” Shaking my head, I tipped their chin up, blush heating my cheeks as I kissed them softly. “It meant a lot. I don’t know if Buck would have had the guts to talk to him about it if you hadn’t.”
Hey!
Is he wrong?
… I might have…
I smiled softly at their squabble, shaking my head again, skimming my lips against their forehead before walking on. The breeze coming off the water was chilled, but with their body tucked close beside mine, I could have walked forever.
We fell into an easy rhythm once Steve left – reassured by our promises to be better about staying in touch – and days became weeks without our noticing, darkness beginning to outweigh daylight. The encroaching winter and the endless downpour that accompanied it threatened to bring an end to our bliss – but instead, we simply adapted, moving from picnics in parks to hot chocolates in my apartment, listening to the rain batter the window.
I fulfilled an offer I made when we first met and fixed the leak in their roof on a clear day – met with an effusive thanks that left me glassy-eyed in their bed while they grinned smugly, hair rumpled. Meanwhile, they worked tirelessly with us and Zeus, his behaviours becoming more and more instinctive as time went on. Our panic attacks lessened, and we would be woken in the night before our nightmares hit full swing, his nose nudging insistently at our arm. We settled into something close to domesticity, and it was perfect.
But the spectre never stopped hovering, and I knew – we all knew – that it couldn’t last forever; it was inevitable that the illusion would be shattered and the past would come calling.
I’d closed up the shop with them, as I did most days, and we were walking back to my apartment when the skin on the back of my neck prickled, drawing me to a hesitant halt as I looked around.
“Buck?” Mars asked after a moment, frowning as they paused, their fingers still locked in mine. “What’s… Are you okay?”
I cast my gaze around once more, unable to voice the unsettled feeling deep in my gut that persisted despite the deserted street, the usual steady stream driven inside by the cold October rain. “… Yeah. Yes. Sorry,” I replied at length, forcing myself to turn back toward them, shaking my head. They simply watched me for a moment, concern evident, before taking my words at face value and letting me lead them on, tucked protectively against my side – from watcher or weather, I wasn’t quite sure.
The apartment block was much the same as it had been several months prior when I’d first moved in – the same handful of tenants I barely saw, the same outdated labels listed beside the bells. Even the plant in the entrance hall was the same – though now a few inches taller and significantly happier. At some point, Tem had begun watering it, drawing life into the struggling greenery that now pressed to the glass, desperate for any hint of the sparse Seattle sunlight.
We’ll need to get it a lamp if it keeps growing like that, he mused in my mind, and I smiled softly, running my fingers lightly over one broad, glossy leaf as we passed.
No sooner had my fingertips left the foliage than the sensation struck me again – a sudden, intense prickling, this time travelling the length of my spine and causing me to whirl abruptly, almost pulling Mars over as I wrenched my grip from theirs without warning, hands raised in defence.
“Buck? What-”
“Get inside,” I muttered, eyes scanning the street beyond the door insistently. “Take Zeus. Lock the door. There’s a gun under the bed. If anyone comes in, shoot them, and don’t stop shooting until they’re on the ground.”
There was a heartbeat of silence, and I heard them shift behind me before a hand touched my shoulder. “Bu-”
“Now!” I snapped without looking back, every muscle in my body trained and taut. “If I don’t-… Call Steve. He’ll help you.”
The encompassing hush persisted for a moment longer, before they took one hesitant step back, followed by another, then the rapid movement of their feet as they darted toward my apartment, accompanied by the pattering of Zeus’ paws on the tile.
He’s out there, isn’t he?
He found us.
He found us.
He found us.
We always knew he’d find us.
Always knew he’d come.
But we thought-
Hoped-
That maybe after all this time-
We could be safe.
Not safe.
Not safe.
Not safe.
Never safe.
Fear and arousal kept me pinned, eyes scanning insistently, picking apart every shadow and movement even as the sensation of being watched and the pounding of my heart began to fade. It wasn’t until a civilian crossed the road, head bowed against the downpour and collar upturned, that I relaxed my stance, intense preparedness giving way to confusion.
I could have sworn…
Like a freight train, panic gripped me once more – but this time it set me in motion, feet skidding as I tore towards my apartment, blind terror rather than exertion dragging rattling breaths from my lungs. The door was unlocked, and I barrelled into the apartment, almost tripping over Zeus.
“Mars?” I called, voice cracking, but the stale, suffocating air of the studio apartment told me all I needed to know long before I received no reply – or saw the gun lying abandoned beside the bed.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Yelling
Summary: Clint has a hard time getting used to how things are around SHIELD.
After all, getting to a place where you're safe isn't the end of the journey.
Pairing: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson (for once, they're both alive)
@oakleavesandcoffee because they get upset every time I write Clint as a Widower ;P
@clintbartonbingo : Steve Rogers and /or Phil Coulson
@eclipsingbingo : Victim Blaming
@fandombingo :
"I am not tamed.", His look was very serious, like someone lost far away. - Little Prince Edition
"The look in his eyes when he had left had something in it not entirely unlike fear." - Magnus Archives Edition
"You're safe now." - Neverwhere Edition
Illogical - Wonderland Edition
@fandom-free-bingo :
Tarnished - August Chaos Edition Discards
Can't look at them - Book Night Edition
"Don't Give Up. Not Now." - Bug Edition
"You're Coming with me.", 'I've got my Strenght and lord knows I've got my weakness', "I can't do this.", After Shocks, Am i a Failure or did you just set me up to fail?' - Dream Edition
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Hawkeye (TV 2021), Black Widow (Movie 2021)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop, Yelena Belova & Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, Kate Bishop & Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine
Characters: Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Valentina Allegra de Fontaine
Additional Tags: Collars, Explosives, Blackmail, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Hurt Kate Bishop, Hurt Yelena Belova, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Kate Bishop Loves Yelena Belova, Yelena Belova Loves Kate Bishop, Demisexual Yelena Belova, Lesbian Yelena Belova, Lesbian Kate Bishop, No Lesbians Die, Chains, Suspension, Kink Negotiation, Trust Kink, creepy valentina allegra de fontaine, Possessive Behavior, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Bondage, noncon not between main pairing, Protective Yelena Belova, POV Yelena Belova, BAMF Yelena Belova, Awkward Kate Bishop, Kate Bishop Is Not Okay, Angst with a Happy Ending, Febuwhump 2025, Femslash February, hero hardships bingo, February Ficlet Challenge, except it got really long, Established Relationship, Relationship Negotiation, Mild Smut, Golden retriever Kate bishop, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Bottom Kate Bishop, Top Yelena Belova, Sexual Tension, Tension, Sexy, NSFW, Government Agencies, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Heavy Angst, High Stakes
Series: Part 2 of writing challenge fics
Summary:
Valentina brings Kate in as incentive for Yelena, Yelena has to find a way to get both of them out safely while negotiating new developments in their relationship
Writing challenges under the cut
@femslash-february bingo: chains, "do you regret it?", suspension
@febuwhump holding back tears
@multifandom-flash marvel bingo
Kate Bishop: wealthy heiress, bitch slap, hot blooded
Yelena Belova: lady swears-a-lot, knight in sour armor, you have got to be kidding me
@herohardshipsbingo government interference, loved ones being used against you
Summary: What happened with Bucky after the Super Soldier Serum.
Major Tags: Angst, pain, torture.
Additional tags: This is my entry for the @avengers-assemble-bingo Bucky Barnes Birthday Bingo (Card 4B015) and @multifandomflash Steve Rogers Bingo.
Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.
@saiyanprincessswanie
My native language is Spanish, so I wanna improve my writing skills in English. Please let me know if you notice any mistakes, and I will correct them.
I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or in other languages (I translate my work myself) or for the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this). I did them exclusively for my fics; please respect my work and don't steal it. Some people here make dividers that anyone can use; mine is not this type, so please look for the other people's dividers. The only exceptions are those I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
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If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
Cold was the first thing he felt, as if his entire body had been submerged in ice water.
His mind was trapped in a foggy abyss, floating between nothingness and everything. He didn't know where he was. Nor what had happened.
Then, the heartbeat.
His pulse quickened as if he were running, though his body was motionless.
Air rushed into his lungs, making him gasp. His chest expanded with a force he couldn't remember feeling before. His eyelids quivered, and suddenly, light.
The echo of his own breathing was all he could hear.
His body felt different, his heart beating with a rhythm so intense it almost hurt. His skin tingled.
They had done something to him.
A blinding white light that blinded his eyes.
His pupils instantly contracted, and a low moan escaped his throat. He wanted to raise a hand to cover his eyes, but his arm did not respond immediately. His muscles, taut as steel cables, were slow to react.
The murmur of distant voices began to take shape around him.
“He's waking up.”
The voice did not recognize his.
“Monitor his heart rate. How long has it been since the injection?
“Ten hours, Doctor. His vital signs are... amazing.”
Bucky frowned, trying to move, but his body felt strange. Heavier. The gurney he was lying on creaked as he tried to turn around. His senses were altered.
He tried to speak, but his throat was dry, as if he had gone days without water.
“Easy, Sergeant Barnes.”
That voice he did recognize.
Bucky blinked several times until his vision cleared. In front of him stood Dr. Arnim Zola.
Memories began to return like shattered shards of a mirror. Falling. Pain. Snow. Screams. Hands holding him. Someone is dragging him. Darkness.
Bucky's eyes opened wide.
THE FALLING FROM THE TRAIN!
The last thing he remembered was the sound of the wind cutting his ears, the emptiness embracing him as his body tumbled uncontrollably down the icy slope.
And now he was his.
Not dead. Not torn apart. But... something else.
He sat up suddenly, in a movement that was too fast, too fluid. The straps holding his wrists and ankles snapped like they were made of paper.
The scientists around him took a step back, some with fear in their eyes.
Bucky looked at his hands.
They were not the same.
No, this was not normal.
Zola watched him with a mixture of curiosity and pride.
“Fascinating... muscle regeneration is impressive. How are you feeling, Sergeant Barnes?
Bucky took a deep breath. His chest expanded in a way he couldn't remember was possible. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles tightening with almost inhuman strength.
The truth was, he didn't know how he felt.
No. No. No. No.
This wasn't real.
He wanted to scream, but the rage was stronger.
“What the hell did you do to me?”
“We saved you.”
“No... no... “he whispered, but rage clouded his judgment. He lunged at Zola with superhuman speed, catching him by the neck with one hand and lifting him as if he weighed nothing.
“Yes... The strength is extraordinary. The neuromuscular response is perfect.”
Bucky felt a tremor run through his body. This was not normal.
The scientists screamed.
He was stronger. Faster. More... monstrous.
But Zola... Zola didn't look scared.
He was smiling.
“Yes... impressive. The strength, the neuromuscular response... a perfect specimen.
Bucky felt nauseous. He let go with a grunt of disgust, and the scientist fell to the floor, coughing.
“What the hell did they do to me? “ Bucky took a step back, his chest rising and falling with heaving breaths.
“We made you better. “ Zola stood up slowly, adjusting his glasses. You're the first Super Soldier Serum hit after Captain America.”
The name hit him like a punch in the stomach.
Steve.
Bucky closed his eyes for a second, trying to remember his best friend's face.
“Steve...” he muttered, almost as a plea.
Zola tilted his head curiously.
“Yes, Captain Rogers. I'm sure you'll see him soon. Though... perhaps not in the way you expect.”
Bucky felt a shiver run down his spine.
Bucky was not a patient. He was an experiment.
“Let me go,” he demanded.
Zola shook his head, his smile never fading.
“I'm sorry, Sargent. But we're not done with you yet.”
“What did you do to me? “he repeated, his voice menacing.
“We saved you, soldier. We made you better.”
“Soldier.”
“I'm not your fucking soldier.”
Zola just bowed his head.
“Not yet.”
Then, the lights in the room changed. A mechanical noise filled the space.
Bucky turned his head sharply.
Something was moving behind him.
Machinery began to descend from the ceiling with a screeching, metallic sound. They were mechanical arms, cold and sharp, connected to a huge machine with some kind of metal tiara in the center.
A torture machine.
Bucky instinctively took a step back, but two HYDRA soldiers approached his sides with rifles at the ready.
“What is this?”
Zola wiped the dust from his robe and looked at him with the calm of someone who knows everything is under control.
“A new beginning.”
No.
He moved his body before he thought, driven by reflexes he didn't even know he had. He pivoted on his right foot and threw a punch at the nearest soldier.
The crunch of broken bones echoed through the room.
The man fell to the floor with a scream, his nose shattered by the force of the blow.
The second soldier tried to react, but Bucky held the weapon with one hand and twisted the man's arm at an impossible angle.
Another crack. Another scream.
The soldier fell, groaning in pain.
“Stop him! “one of the scientists shouted.
Bucky was about to strike again when he felt the prick in his neck.
The world lurched around him.
His knees buckled, and his vision blurred.
“Very interesting. “ Zola's voice sounded far away. Even with the serum, he's still struggling, but we'll fix that.
Bucky tried to move, but his body no longer responded.
No... no...
Arms grabbed him and dragged him toward the machine.
The metal headband tightened over his head with a snapping sound.
Zola pressed a button.
And then, the pain.
An electric current coursed through his head. Bucky screamed, his back arching violently. It wasn't just pain.
It was destruction.
He felt his memories being ripped away.
Steve.
His best friend laughing, having his back in every fight, swearing they'd always be together.
His mother.
The smell of his cooking, his singing voice.
Becca.
His sister, whom he used to tease.
Brooklyn.
The streets he used to walk, the ice cream shop on the corner, the dances on summer nights.
