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garbage all the way down ([personal profile] trashmod) wrote in [community profile] hydratrashmeme2015-09-09 07:23 pm

Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Holy shitballs, look at us go. Welcome to Captain America fandom's resident wretched hive of scum and villainy: ROUND THREE. AKA Bad Guys Do Dirtybadwrong Things To Your Faves, AKA the Hydra Trash Party kinkmeme. As usual, BLANKET NON-CON AND NSFW WARNINGS apply: just assume going in that everything in this landfill is unfit for human consumption.

Rules in brief: don't be a jerk except to fictional characters, warnings for particularly fucked-up garbage are nice but not required, thou shalt not judge the trashiness of thy neighbor's kinks unless thy neighbor is trying to pass off their rotting banana peels and half-eaten pizza crusts as a healthy romantic dinner for two, off-topic comments may be chucked out of the dumpster at management's discretion, management's discretion decrees that omegaverse, soulbond AUs, D/s-verse, non-superpowered AUs, and dark!good guys AUs are off-topic.

[Round 1] [Round 2] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by [personal profile] greenkirtle)] [Round 3 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

Round 3 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 4.

Fill: Marks of Ownership (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2016-07-22 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
For a long time the Asset had forgotten what it was to want. It had known pain, and fear, and hunger, but it had not wanted them to end, because it had forgotten they could end. Its existence was just pain, and there was no way of changing it.

Then it had met the Captain, on the bridge, and things had changed. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, it had wanted. It had wanted to escape from the man who was there, the man who brought so many feelings to the fore and left him feeling sick.

It had forgotten how to feel. It had forgotten what to think, how to be human, and the Captain had tried to bring that idea back.

Yet not too long after it had changed its mind in what it wanted. It wanted to feel that confusion. It wanted to be near the Captain. It had realised that on the helicarrier, when the Captain had changed its mind by refusing to fight it.

So to know that was what it wanted was amazing. It wanted to be near the Captain, and wanted to be good. Wanted to please him.

It stayed near the Captain after that. It worked with the Avengers, fought, did everything it could do to please them. It wanted to make them happy. And they did seem happy, in a way. They would listen to it, and ask it what it wanted. They would praise it.

Everything about its life now was remarkable. It had never expected to get this, never hoped for it. But getting it now, that was incredible, and it wanted to stay there.

Most of the time, it could only think about its new life. It cooked dinner sometimes, which was good, and it was praised. The only problem was when it came to getting clean. When it was washing, it could only see the Hydra logo, blazed across its chest over its heart. There were other problems as well. The lines of ancient scars written across its body, scrawled insults and tallies and cuts just for fun. But it was the Hydra logo, proclaiming their ownership that made it feel sick every time it saw itself. That was the cause of its shame.
It wasn't right, to have that ownership when the Avengers had made it so welcome, had been so patient. It should be theirs, not Hydra's.

So it had to change. It had to become theirs. It understood that. It got to cook dinner, and that was its chance. It grabbed a knife when it was cooking, slipping the knife into its pocket and then sneaking it back to its room. That was good. It was happy, because it could fix the cause of its shame.

They all ate together. They were laughing, they were talking and the Captain's hand was on his shoulder, reassuring him.
"This is brilliant." Bruce said softly. That was Bruce, the man who became the Hulk. The doctor. It felt like it was preening at the praise, relishing being told it was good even more than normal, because it was good, and it could keep that praise. This time it deserved it. Life was good.

The knife in his pocket was a familiar weight as he ate. It washed up quickly, helped by the sniper, and then the others went to watch a film. Sometimes it joined them, but it knew now that they weren't going to make use of it, so it could excuse itself.

It headed straight up to its bedroom. It took off its shirt, and decided to get to work. The scar on its chest was a huge cut, it wouldn't be easy to remove. But it could fix this. It started off taking deep breaths, and then sliced across his chest, in thin lines. They disfigured that, even if they didn't remove it. It was a start to getting clean.

Blood trickled down its chest as it completed the crosshatching, smiling to itself.

The new cut would hurt. The new cut would hurt a lot, it knew that, and it took deep breaths to keep it calm. It felt sick. But this would be good. It belonged to the Avengers now, and it wanted to see that every time it saw itself. It wanted to be happy.

It wanted the team to know as well. When they saw it later, they would know how proud it was of the fact it belonged, that it never doubted who it was and who it belonged to.

It would probably have to recut the scars often, but it understood that. Any kind of pain would be worthwhile if it meant that it could be the Avengers, and proudly so. It admired its reflection. The cuts were neat, and while it wasn't in the proper place yet, more in the centre of the chest than over his heart, for now it would be suitable. It was sure the Avengers would be pleased with it.

It didn't need to be ashamed of its naked body anymore. It didn't need to try and hide, it just could be itself.

So as the temperature climbed and the sun shone, it didn't hesitate to strip off in front of the others. They were all playing near the pool that Stark had provided - Bruce was sat in a sun lounger, the Captain and the Archer were splashing in the pool, and Romanoff was relaxing in the water sipping some kind of drink that was green and had slices of fruit floating in it. Thor was banned from the pool, but he was lounging nearby. Stark and Miss Potts were together in the water, and Miss Potts looked younger and more carefree than she had for a long time. All of them did. It was beautiful.

It had hidden its body before. Kept its shirt on, muttered, and ducked into the shade. But it didn't need to hide any more. It smiled at that idea as it pulled off its shirt, planning to dive into the water.

For a moment a memory flashed in front of its eyes. That had happened a lot recently. It was remembering sunshine, a hot day, and a small figure. It was the wrong height. What it could see wasn't right. It was as though it was looking from lower down, but it was happy, it knew that much. The small blond beside it was laughing, and it jumped into the water with him.

"What is that?" That was Romanoff, and her voice was level. It wasn't the good kind of level. It was the kind of level that meant somebody was angry, and that scared it. It blinked, looking around in case it had done something wrong, but it could see nothing.

Bruce was on his feet, walking over towards it.
"Let me..."

It smiled broadly, waiting for them to realise. They had been so reasonable, so understanding about everything since it had first arrived, that it didn't need to worry about their attitude about the misplacement. They would understand, it believed that, was certain of the fact.

Bruce's hand rested on its chest, and he frowned slightly, poking at the reddened skin around the most recent cut.
"That's fresh."

"Couldn't do it earlier." It tried to explain. "For a long time, I couldn't..." It swallowed. "You wouldn't let me near any knives. You were too worried about me using them to injure myself."

The Captain heaved himself out of the water, and made his way over to him, drenched in water. He frowned slightly.
"What?" He started to ask, then swore. "Buck, why would you-"
"I wanted to prove it." It said softly, starting to panic. It had done everything it could do to make them happy, and they weren't reacting like they were happy. They should have been overjoyed, or at least slightly pleased that it had acknowledged its place, that it had acknowledged that it belonged to them. But the look in their eyes, that was wrong.

It started to feel crowded when the archer walked over as well, whistling low. It wanted to panic, to run away, but it knew that wouldn't solve anything. With this the only way out was through, and it stood frozen, waiting for the shouting to start, and for someone to explain what it had done wrong. It wondered if the letter might be backwards, but it had been too careful for that. It was always careful about that kind of thing, didn't want to disappoint them.

They looked disappointed.

Re: Fill: Marks of Ownership (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2016-07-23 06:00 am (UTC)(link)
Oh noes, Bucky! You're trying so hard! And so proud of himself itself!! I desperately want the others to understand -- after all, it's not that different from getting a team tattoo, right?

Re: Fill: Marks of Ownership (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2016-07-23 08:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh god oh god Stucky friendship brands.

Fill: Marks of Ownership (2/3)

(Anonymous) 2016-08-12 05:27 pm (UTC)(link)
It felt ashamed. It had received so much, been given so much by the Avengers, and if this was how it repayed them, well, it was no wonder they were disappointed. It had let them down, failed them.

"I know it's in the wrong place." It whispered. It would admit to its faults, not try to hide them. But at the same time, it would be honest, try and explain what had happened, how it could have gone so very badly wrong. "I was just... not thinking. I wanted..." It swallowed. "I wanted it to go over my heart, but I couldn't work out how to position it, not with the other one already there. I'm sorry."

If anything they looked more disappointed, and then Stark swore low, and Bruce leaned in to have a look, muttering about infection. Romanoff was cursing in Russian, and Thor looked angry, and it felt worse than it had since coming to the Avengers.

It had no right to try and show off its body, to flaunt the work it had done, because it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to make it theirs, and it was a fool to have even tried. It waited for them to cast their judgement.

There was a strange stillness over the group, before the Captain stepped forwards. In serious issues, it was always the Captain who took the lead, despite the flashes of memory it had of the Captain making mistakes and being foolish. The Captain had been a child then, a young man. Now he was a leader.

"Why did you do it Buck?"

"I... I know I looked disgusting before." It started to explain. "With the Brand. HYD-They..." It caught itself, stopped itself from naming its tormentors. That word alone could upset the Captain, even when he wasn't already angry. "They said I was theirs forever. But I'm not. I know I'm not. So I wanted to show it. It's not perfect, this is just temporary, I was going to make a stencil but I..." It felt tears welling up in its eyes. It had been foolish, and lazy, but it hadn't meant to be bad. It had wanted to belong, and it should have waited until it was fully equipped, but it just wanted the chance to show them it was theirs.

It lowered its head, taking shaky breaths, determined not to start sobbing in front of them.

It looked up at the ceiling, trying to stop tears from escaping. Crying was weak. Crying was an attempt for sympathy. They were all staring, and it swallowed softly, closing its eyes for a moment before it looked up.
"It was a mistake. And I'm sorry. I will find a way to fix it."

"Damn right it was a mistake-" Stark snarled, pausing as Bruce placed a hand on his arm, and it shivered. It had let them down. It understood that. It watched Bruce guiding Stark away, saw the angry gestures, Stark pointing to his own chest where the reactor was embedded into his chest.

The Captain was still staring.
"Did you do this to try and please us?" He asked, and it nodded, feeling overwhelmed by the sense of shame that flooded through it. It had made such a mistake, it had done the wrong thing.
"I know it's not good enough." It started to stay, and the Captain's lips pressed together, thin.

He took another breath, as though weighing up what to say, and it waited for the blow to fall.
"Can you explain why you thought this would please us?"

"It shows I belong to you." It began to explain. "I cut away the last one, made it unreadable, and the Avengers logo... it shows that I belong to you all, that I'm yours and not..." It shuddered. "Not Hydra's. Before, every time I saw...every time anyone saw, they saw that I was Hydra's. Now I'm not."

The silence continued, and Romanoff in the end was the one to take pity on him.
"Bucky, could you get me another drink?" She asked, holding out her empty glass. It could tell this was a ploy to get it away while they discussed punishment, but it didn't mind. It was grateful for the escape, and it left to prepare a drink for her.

It heard the voices rise behind it, but returned with the drink, not eavesdropping. Stark looked a little calmer, and the Captain's eyes... looked strange. Almost damp. The Captain reached out for it, and it went to him, letting the Captain fold his arms around it's body.

"It's okay Buck." The Captain said gently, and it felt relieved. They had accepted its offer, its feeble attempt to being claimed. "You are ours." That sentence was the most incredible thing it had heard, and the tears that had threatened earlier were spilling down its cheeks.

"You are ours Bucky." The Captain repeated. "We won't ever let HYDRA have you. you're ours."
"It's a part of you." That was the archer, and sometimes Bucky got the sense that the archer knew more of a life like its than he admitted. "Deeper than any cut. That's what being on a team, really on a team, means. You're claimed. In your soul."

Bucky nodded slowly. It was theirs, and it made sense that it would be permanent, that nothing would let it change. It belonged to them.
"Not a very neat cut there though." Natasha said softly. "When it's healed up a bit, we can do something neater."

It felt relief run through it at that generous offer. It would be theirs. The Captain didn't look overly happy at the discussion taking place, but he didn't say no, and it nodded quickly. It would be able to prove who it belonged to. It would never return to HYDRA. It was the Avengers' now.

Re: Fill: Marks of Ownership (2/3)

(Anonymous) 2016-08-12 09:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Aw, yay—I'm glad that they understand what Bucky was trying to do, and what he needs. And Nat even offers to help him fix the cut! It's so sweet that they're able to meet him where he is, affirming that he belongs to them, rather than simply freaking out at him for his misconceptions.

Re: Fill: Marks of Ownership (2/3)

(Anonymous) 2016-08-13 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
Oh yay, I'm glad that Nat helps everyone understand. And honestly, I've always felt like the whole "tattoo the Avengers logo" thing can be viewed as ... pretty normal, like getting a team tattoo.

(Maybe Steve will get one to match Bucky's?)

COMPLETE Fill: Marks of Ownership (3/3)

(Anonymous) 2016-08-18 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
It took a couple of weeks for the cuts to heal enough for them to consider giving it a more permanent reminder of who it belonged to. It was quite proud it had managed to cut so deeply that the scar lasted that well, given the limited resources it had and the fact that it healed quickly. The delay was an irritation though.

While it was healing, the Captain helped it to design a new version of the brand, painting suggestions first on paper and then on its skin to practice.

Finally, the Captain developed a design that it was happy with. It was going to have the Avengers logo cut into its flesh by the Widow, and then the Captain was going to tattoo his own star above it - marking him as the Captain's and the team's. The thought of that made it shiver in delight. It was going to be owned, and Hydra could never question that. Lasers could remove the tattoo, but the Widow promised that the brand would be too deep and perfect to remove.

When it was time, when it had healed, it was taken to a room that had been prepared. It stripped off its shirt, and knelt on the floor, with the Captain kneeling behind it. The Captain wrapped his arms around its waist, holding it in place, and it allowed itself to relax, leaning back against him. It took slow deep breaths, acting calmly, and Romanoff stepped forwards.

The doctor was waiting outside. He'd refused to be here, and so had Stark. The archer was in the corner, and there was a gun nearby - it had been fitted with tranquiliser bullets, so that if something went wrong, it could be stopped. They had explained all of this to it the day before. But now it just had to hold still.

The Captain was breathing slowly, talking quietly, murmuring into its ear, telling it it was safe, that it was theirs. It twisted slightly, saw that the Captain's eyes were closed, and it gasped as the Widow leaned forward with the knife.

Her work was neat. Neater than it had ever been able to do, or that Hydra had done. It was careful, carving out the shape, and it held still. There was pain, and it bit its lip, tears beading up in its eyes. It could just about blink them back. But it held still. The Captain was still murmuring soothing gentle nonsense and it slowly relaxed. The pain wasn't much. It was cleansing, not torture, and it could regulate its breath. Each cut was followed by the application of a cream designed to make it last.

When the widow stepped away the logo of its new team was emblazoned on its chest in blood, and the tears that had threatened before came spilling down his face.

"Done." She said, and it nodded. It was theirs now. Nothing could take that away. It felt proud. Felt safe.

The Captain took over, gently wiping away the blood and mess, bandaging over the cut. It was owned. It was the team's. No longer did Hydra have any claim to its body, and that meant the world to it.

When it was clean, the Captain got to work. He used the ink to sketch out the silver star, with a red background, smaller than the main scar, but claiming it just as real. It was wanted. It belonged. It was the Captain's, and that thrilled it.

When that was done, the Captain gave it a mirror to hold, and it held it steady, as the Captain carefully applied a tattoo to his own chest, a mirror of his own. It had a silver background, with a red star in the middle. When he was finished, the Captain embraced it, and it knew that it belonged.

The Captain was frowning, looking unhappy, but it pushed those worries aside. The Widow smiled, and carefully added some lotion to both tattoos, then called the team in. It was given a drink, and it smiled nervously.

That was the real fresh start that it had been waiting for. This was what it had never dreamed would come. It wasn't always easy. The Captain flinched sometimes when he saw it, ducked out of the way, and there were times when it missed the certainties of Hydra. But this was better. It belonged.

And next time it was sunny, it could take off its shirt and relax with the rest of them.

Re: COMPLETE Fill: Marks of Ownership (3/3)

(Anonymous) 2016-08-19 12:20 am (UTC)(link)
Aw, I'm so happy it's happy!
keerawa: Coyote in a dreamscape (Default)

Re: COMPLETE Fill: Marks of Ownership (3/3)

[personal profile] keerawa 2016-08-25 05:09 am (UTC)(link)

Re: COMPLETE Fill: Marks of Ownership (3/3)

(Anonymous) 2016-08-25 05:32 pm (UTC)(link)
That was the real fresh start that it had been waiting for. This was what it had never dreamed would come. It wasn't always easy. The Captain flinched sometimes when he saw it, ducked out of the way, and there were times when it missed the certainties of Hydra. But this was better. It belonged.

What a happy ending, I'm so glad. <3 <3 <3