hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

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

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.

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You probably didn't notice because I express myself with AMAZING SUBTLETY at all times but I, too, have a Thing, and Thing, thy name is people getting stepped on by other, meaner people.

Rumlow (or other Hydra agent) fucks Bucky while wearing a Captain America costume.

(I'm new here,sorry if this has been prompted before.)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/2591207

Or did you mean Rumlow in the Cap costume?

ugh this is so lovely, I drew a picture. <3333

http://thefilthiestpiglet.tumblr.com/post/134249604293/for-this-lovely-fic-of-the-htp

New anon voting for ao3 collection so I can leave kudos, sign out, and leave more kudos.

This is faaaaaantaaaaaastic.

"It hurts less than a bullet so it's fine." steeeeeeeeeeeb. babyyyyyyyy

No, no, I'm fine. It's not like I was using my heart for anything so here, take the mangled pieces of it.

OH GOD THIS IS SUCH GOOD FILTH. Thank you a!a you are a blessing. All the little bits of Steve trying to retain composure. The detail about the strap being scuffed. And flashing back to all his sexytimes with Bucky with new context!!!

And the bit about feeling guilt about coming from the rape!

(Man, Bucky in this fic must be so good at compartamentalizing...)

Oh my, that's the most adorable-trashy thing I've seen.

Are you orginal!author?

My other fic is on Ao3 so I'm cool with that, I just don't know how you'd post two stories by different authors into the same series, and practical stuff like that.

But otherwise, yeah, I'd be interested.

(Also thank you for your kind words)

<3

Wow this is frickin' amazing. You do keep spoiling me.

^^;;;;

Um... your fault making whipping so sexy and painful???

Okay, so ... the pros of a series is that it'd be ordered sequentially and be limited to co-authors. And once it's set up, you basically check the box of "add this to a series" or something, and bam, it's in the series. And then the series can be reordered by the series creator.

Anyway, I can get the series set up, probably some time tomorrow afternoon??? It'd probably be called "Steve the Very Good Handler" or something. :P

Well you are very kind :)

That's a good title!

Oh wow.

Bucky had taken Steve hard in the shower, with the water cascading over them, Bucky pinning Steve’s hands to the tile as he claimed him. Bucky must have known, then, what today’s mission would hold for him, and he had given everything, all of himself, to Steve anyway.

and for some reason, this was the line that killed me.

The prisoner spat out the wadding. "Steve," he said. The name made a resonance in Nomad's mind. The man swallowed. "Steve, please don't do this." He sounded afraid, though not as afraid as Nomad might have expected.

"You have thirty seconds to make your peace with God," Nomad said.

"Oh fuck," the prisoner spat. "Steve, come on. You know you're not gonna do this. You know it's me, right? You know I'm your friend. We were friends when we were kids, remember? It's me, Steve, it's Bucky."

Nomad frowned; that didn't seem right. The prisoner's eyes widened a bit, with fear or desperation, and he talked faster, the words spilling over each other. "Shit, please, I swear it's me. Please, please Steve, you don't want to do this. I'm your friend, it's me, I swear it's me, it's--"

Nomad pulled the trigger.

In the aftermath of the shot, Doctor Risman's voice seemed quiet. "Well done."

Nomad looked down at the body. With the face hidden, it wasn't disturbing, the details of its build producing no resonance. It wasn't a back he recognized, insofar as he recognized anything much. He wondered idly what had happened to him, to erase the life he must have lived before. There had to have been a before; men didn't just suddenly discover themselves full-grown. His hands and body knew how to do things. The gun had felt familiar.

The door slid open to reveal Doctor Risman, smiling. Nomad smiled back in relief. "Well done," the doctor repeated.

"Ma'am, if I may ask: who's Steve?" Nomad asked.

"That used to be your body's name," she said. "And to answer your next question, 'Bucky' was a friend of Steve's. The prisoner resembled him, and was trying to use that resemblance to stop you. He knew you don't remember, thought he might be able to fool you." She looked disapproving, though Nomad thought she was also satisfied with how well he'd performed.

Nomad thought it over. "What happened to me? To...Bucky."

"You were both in a very bad aircraft crash," Doctor Risman said. "You survived, but you've had extensive head trauma."

"And Bucky didn't make it," Nomad said. Head trauma might explain the resonance; messing with the brain could do all sorts of funny things. It was too bad his companion hadn't survived. It might be nice to have someone to pass the time with.

"I'm afraid we lost him," Doctor Risman agreed. "Now come with me."

Nomad trailed her, half a step back from her right shoulder. At the junction, they turned left, which led away from his quarters, and he fought down unease. "Bucky's an odd name," he said, to cover it. "Sounds like the kind of thing you pick because there are six other Jims on the block."

The steady tap of Doctor Risman's heels faltered for a moment. "Some people have odd nicknames," she said neutrally.

They were still down the hall from the room that held the chair when Doctor Risman stopped short and put her hand to her ear. All the guards were suddenly much tenser than they'd been instants before, and Nomad had a second of worry that he'd done something inappropriate. "How?" the doctor demanded, and then spoke over any reply, "Never mind, it's not important. Keep them out of the center block for as long as possible." She started walking again, faster, and Nomad lengthened his stride to keep up, considering what he'd heard. There was only one explanation that fit the facts.

He checked for a moment when they entered the chair room; he couldn't help it. "Ma'am," he said, and fought not to let his voice crack. "If we're under attack, let me help."

She turned to face him. "You'll help better if you do this," she said. "Sit."

It took him a long second to force himself to cross to the chair and he shuddered at the touch of the leather seat. A technician closed the restraints over his arms and offered him the bite guard. "I need him a blank slate," Doctor Risman said. "Up to full."

Nomad started to hyperventilate as the whir began behind his head. The arms lifted into his field of vision and as the contacts came down to cover his face he thought Just breathe, Steve, in a voice that wasn't his own.

*

When he struggled awake the room was empty except for two guards who looked spooked. His limbs were heavy with the peculiar lassitude the chair left behind, but it was irrelevant because he was still restrained. He spat out the bite guard. "What's going on?" he asked. He heard a crash, muffled by distance or walls or both, and started yanking at the arm restraints.

"The Avengers," one of the guards said, sounding panicky. The other guard gave him a venomous glance.

"Don't talk to the asset, dumbsh--"

The wall exploded.

In the gap were three points of blue-white light that made a resonance in his mind. The guards shouted and fired into the dust, and with a rising whine one of the points emitted a bright blast that bowled them both over. They landed hard and didn't twitch. Nomad struggled harder.

A red-and-gold robot stepped through the wall. The points of light were its palms and the center of its chest. It scanned around the room. "Guys, I found him," it said, its voice a little tinny but very naturalistic, and far more pleasant than the forbidding mask of its face suggested. "Cap, it is damn good to see you." Suddenly the front of its head...retracted somehow, to reveal a man's face. He had dark hair and brown eyes and an absurd goatee, and he made resonance too.

"Who are you?" Nomad demanded, yanking at the restraints. They creaked, but he wasn't getting out of them before the armored suit could fire, that was for sure.

"Ooooh, that's not good," the guy said. "And also I'm a little insulted you could forget me. Barnes, center block, hurry it up." He gave Nomad a slightly twisted smile. "We're on your side, I promise, hold on for just a minute and all will be revealed."

"It had damn well better be," Nomad growled.

Less than a minute later Nomad heard running feet in the hall. A man and a woman appeared through the hole, both of them in black combat gear. The woman was young and redheaded and attractive enough that it should have been distracting, but Nomad found his attention fixed on the man: Caucasian, mid-twenties, above-average height, dark hair and blue eyes and features that made the phrase "black Irish" float up. He wore a metal sheath of some sort on his left arm and his expression was trying to be blank as he crossed the room. Nomad thought that he should flinch as the metal-covered arm reached for his head, but he didn't, and there was a wrenching squeal as the man pulled one of the chair's arms loose. Then he met Nomad's eyes, searching for something. The resonance shrieked, stronger than it had ever been

"Steve," he said. "It's me. It's Bucky."

Nomad frowned. "Who the hell is Bucky?"

\o/ yay rescue!!!!! <3333 I've been holding my breath for this moment.

I AM STILL HOLDING MY BREATH HOLY CRAPBALLS

Let's exploit the vague nature of Bucky's serum and say he actually can catch diseases. So, during a Hydra rape, he caught an incurable STD.

I am up for any kind of STD trash, including Hydra shaming him, reactions from his other rapists, and uncomfortable physical symptoms -- but especially anything that focuses on or includes aftermath would be great. Like Bucky being too ashamed to seek/suffering through medical treatment, or the agony of disclosing his disease (and thus his history of rape) to his sexual partner(s).

hey there, Picture Book anon! We've created a series for this... whatever this has become. If you want in when you finish your picture book, just contact one of the folks managing the series? And they'll add you as co-author? :D??

http://archiveofourown.org/series/361304

http://archiveofourown.org/series/361304

(It's a series because it got complicated!!)

Fantastic! My heat is getting fixed tomorrow which means I will be able to leave my blanket cocoon and draw a thing and I would love to get in on the collection.

I'm not fussed re: why; broken dick conditioning, normal impotence, bad or painful sex. I'm cool for anything as long as Bucky cannot make himself come for a rapist who wants him to (who is getting angrier the longer Bucky keeps failing).

+ the rape culminates in serious torture to punish Bucky for embarrassing his rapist

+ either Bucky is new to rape, or the rapist is new to raping Bucky and doesn't know the tricks Hydra has found to getting him off

+++ fallout where Bucky is incredibly anxious about the prospect of sex with his partner (Sam or Steve please) because he's worried he won't be able to perform, and he's internalized shame and fear about that going way beyond your average toxic masculinity problems

wooohooo! You know who to poke on the tumblrs. ;)

Yes, I was thinking Hydra agent wearing the costume, and Bucky's seriously confused by it.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 66 of 215

Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Re: Fill: Take Me Instead 2/?

Rumlow/ Bucky costumed mindfuck

Re: Rumlow/ Bucky costumed mindfuck

Re: Mini-Fill "Executing Protocol 1/1" (sequel by other author)

Re: Mini-Fill "Executing Protocol 1/1" (sequel by other author)

Re: Habeas Corpus (5/?)

Re: Habeas Corpus (5/?)

Re: Bucky and the Very Nice, So Wonderful Handler Re: Super-soldier Starter Kit

Re: Mini-Fill "Executing Protocol 1/1" (sequel by other author)

Re: Mini-Fill "Executing Protocol 1/1" (sequel by other author)

Re: Mini-Fill "Executing Protocol 1/1" (sequel by other author)

Re: Mini-Fill "Executing Protocol 1/1" (sequel by other author)

Re: Mini-Fill "Executing Protocol 1/1" (sequel by other author)

Re: Mini-Fill "Executing Protocol 1/1" (sequel by other author)

Re: Habeas Corpus (5/?)

Re: FILL: Lie Down on the Wire 14/?

Re: FILL: Lie Down on the Wire 14/?

Re: FILL: Lie Down on the Wire 14/?

STD trash

Re: Bucky and the Very Nice, So Wonderful Handler Re: Super-soldier Starter Kit

AO3 Link Re: Super-soldier Starter Kit

Re: Bucky and the Very Nice, So Wonderful Handler Re: Super-soldier Starter Kit

a rapist can't make Bucky come

Re: Bucky and the Very Nice, So Wonderful Handler Re: Super-soldier Starter Kit

Re: Rumlow/ Bucky costumed mindfuck