Bucky getting his arm ripped off again and being thrown across the room, only for Ava to quickly snatch up the arm, as Walker is already pulling Bucky upright, so that Alexei can toss him over his shoulders like a rag-doll, while Yelena runs for the elevator.
I could be way off here, but I feel like part of Agatha’s character arc might be to learn humbleness and accept that she cannot be the most powerful witch ever. She resents Wanda, and now Billy, because of their level of power. She sees it as completely unfair that Wanda’s son escaped death, when her own son did not. But the fact remains that Wanda and Billy are both long prophesized by Chthon. They are destined to be the greatest witches to ever live. Agatha needs to realize and accept that that isn’t her destiny, but that’s okay; she doesn’t need to have the most magic in the world in order to find some sort of internal peace and healing. Power or not, she is special in her own way. Out of all the witches in the world, Death gave her heart to her, Agatha, not the Scarlet Witch or Wiccan. That means a lot.
Summary: You've found yourself with the 107th fighting Hydra, where you meet a handsome Sergeant. But something just isn't right.
A/N: Thunderbolts* really just has me going back to my roots, just now I'm more of a Bucky girl than a Steve one. Enjoy this first semi-fluffy chapter! (No Thunderbolts spoilers for quiiiite a few chapters).
FIC:
You couldn't wait for Agent Carter to join you in Italy.
You had been sent ahead with a small SSR outfit to prep for more of the Strategic Scientific Reserve to join you once you had confirmed the intel you'd received about Hydra's base.
You were pretty sure you were only sent because Colonel Phillips could only deal with having both you and Peggy around so much.
You sighed as you dismissed a soldier you'd been interviewing.
If you heard one more man ask-
"Now what's a beautiful dame doing out here?"
You looked up at the dark haired man that had entered your tent, completing your thought for you.
"My job, Sergeant...?"
"Barnes, ma'am. Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes." He took a seat.
"Nice to meet you Sergeant Barnes, I am Agent Grace with the Strategic Scientific Reserve. I understand you may have noticed something strange on assignment?"
"Well ma'am I am a sniper. It's my job to notice things."
You sighed. If these soldiers would get over the fact that you were wearing a skirt for 2 seconds you might actually get some good information today. Unfortunately it seemed like this was about to be another waste of your time.
"The soldiers we faced last week, they weren't wearing normal uniforms. They had a different symbol. Some kind of octopus."
"That would be the symbol of Hydra. Hitler's rogue science division."
"Well they must have some kind of mad genius working for them. Their weapons aren't normal guns. They weren't firing bullets. More like just blue beams."
"Blue beams?"
"Check with medical. Not nearly enough bullet wounds for what went down."
"I will check on that. Anything else that might be helpful?"
"They retreated west. There weren't very many of them, but they were quick."
You wrote down what he'd told you.
"Thank you for your time Sergeant Barnes."
"Of course." He stood and held out his hand to shake yours.
You looked at his hand for a moment before standing to shake it. As you looked at his eyes, something felt familiar.
He nodded to you and went to exit the tent, pausing before leaving.
"Sorry if I offended you ma'am, when I first came in. I meant it as a compliment."
You shook your head. "None taken Sergeant. Stay safe out there."
He chuckled. "I will do my best."
The next day the 107th went after Schmidt's men.
Two days later, Peggy and the rest of the SSR that was coming arrived, and you'd reported your findings from the interviews.
"Magic blue weapons? That's what you have for me?" Colonel Phillips asked.
"That's about all the men reported back. Other than confirming that it was Hydra who carried them."
Phillips shook his head. "It's not a lot to go on."
"I think we might be able to triangulate the position of their base, sir."
"We'll see what we hear from the 107th. There's got to be a way to-"
A soldier ran into the tent.
"Colonel, the 107th is back. At least, what's left of it."
-
You looked out into the rain, listening to Captain America's show in the distance.
"What's got you so down?" Peggy asked behind her.
You shook your head as you turned to get back to work. "So many soldiers. I just can't believe he-they are gone."
"He?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Forget it. A slip of the tongue."
"I see."
She could see right through you, but wouldn't push the issue as she walked away to speak with Captain Rogers. You were grateful.
You'd had one conversation with the man. Why did the fact that he was most likely dead feel so...wrong? Soldiers die every day in war. He wasn't even that nice to you.
He wasn't dead. You knew it. You felt it. But why did it matter?
A few minutes later, you watched as Captain America ran through the mud to Colonel Phillips tent. You followed as quickly as you could.
"Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R-"
"I can spell." Colonel Phillips paused before standing. He looked at you, then down at the papers he was holding.
"I've signed more of these condolence letters today than I care to count. But the name does sound familiar." He looked up at the captain.
"I'm sorry."
"What about the others?" Rogers asked. "Are you planning a rescue mission?"
"Yeah it's called winning the war."
"But if you know where they are why not at least-"
"They're 30 miles behind the lines. Through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save, but I don't expect you to understand that because you're a chorus girl."
Rogers set his jaw.
"I think I understand just fine."
"Then understand it somewhere else." Colonel Phillips began to walk away. "If I read the posters correctly you've got some place to be in 30 minutes."
You followed the captain's eyes to the map on the wall.
"Yes sir. I do."
You and Peggy locked eyes before following Steve out of the tent.
-
Sending the one successful super soldier you had behind enemy lines probably was not the best idea, but there was no stopping Steve.
And someone had to cause a distraction to cover their exit.
"Are you insane?!" Colonel Phillips lectured.
"Captain Rogers was going with or without-"
He scoffed. "Captain Rogers? He's a barely trained circus monkey and the most expensive asset the United States army has created and you helped him go against my orders."
He slammed his fist on the desk as Agent Carter walked into the tent.
"You're both going straight back to the typing pool after this stunt."
"Colonel-"
"Not another word. Or would you like to explain to the Secretary of Defense why Captain America - the only super soldier we have is gone?"
There was a commotion outside as soldiers ran to the gate. You and Peggy looked at each other before following the Colonel.
You reached the gate just in time to see Captain America lead the 107th back into camp.
"Sir," Steve addressed the colonel. "I turn myself over for disciplinary action."
Phillips looked around at the men who he'd frankly assumed were dead.
"That won't be necessary."
Your gaze wandered from Steve to the man next to him. Who was already looking at you. You nodded to him, and he nodded back before turning to look at Steve.
"Let's hear it for Captain America!"
You joined in as the crowd cheered.
-
"Knock, knock?"
You looked up from your desk. "Sergeant Barnes. I assumed you'd be at the celebration."
"I was, but something just didn't feel right."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." He looked around at the otherwise empty tent.
"You weren't there."
You looked up from your notes and maps for the first time. "I am flattered Sergeant-"
"Bucky," he corrected.
You smiled. "Bucky. I am flattered but I didn't do much, and there is plenty still to be done."
"Yes, yes of course, Agent Grace." He turned to leave but then turned back around.
"Come on, let me buy you a drink."
"Sergeant-"
"Bucky."
"Right, Bucky, that really isn't-"
"Steve wouldn't have made it out of camp without your help. Come on, one drink."
You shook your head. "I just-"
"It can wait. A drink, some food, and some sleep will do you good."
You sighed. "Fine."
Bucky's grin grew from ear to ear. "Perfect."
-
Read Part 2 here.
A/N: All will make sense eventually. I hope. 😊 This will not be an entirely 1940s era fic, so if you're here for that, heads up that I'm only planning another chapter or 2 of this vibe.
Marvel Doesn't Trust Its Characters And That's Why It's Failing
Which is a shame because trusting and respecting its characters is what had made Marvel what it is.
Unfortunately, I have been here since the beginning of the Marvel Cinematic Universe in 2008, and even before that when there used to be solo Marvel superhero movies like Spider Man and X-Men. I have seen the trajectory of the MCU and the impact it has had on movie culture as a whole.
It had caught lightning in a bottle with its interconnected universe - something every other studio tried to replicate and failed.
Now, recency bias is a hell of a drug. Now that Marvel is struggling, people are quick to say it was a juggernaut back in the day where everything it did worked. And suddenly everything it is doing now is failing. It was a juggernaut, for sure. But it was a very meticulously crafted saga based on characters that resonated with the audience. And not everything worked (The Incredible Hulk, Ant-Man). It got plenty of criticism (villains, lack of representation). It all just got masked because the studio was breaking box office records.
Imagine how confused Steve Rogers would be by youth slang in this day and age. Like, I’m hung up on the idea of Kate saying “No cap,” in the middle of one of Clint’s stories, and Steve getting confused and all like, “no cap? But I’m right here?”
