Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

[trashmod]

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.

Comments

FINISHED FILL: Cheaters Never Prosper (+1/5+1)

[(Anonymous)]

James Barnes lay on the floor of his cell, panting. His missing arm ached - they took his prosthesis away when he was being left for a few days. They refused to let him have a weapon. Refused to give him anything which might make him a threat.

He felt dizzy. Whatever they had been drugging him with left him nauseous, left him confused, but he understood that they were wearing off. On the worst days, when the drugs were strongest, he didn't know his own name, or where he was. He only obeyed. Having a faint recollection of a name, of a smile, of a blond man and a room he couldn't place, these were the only rebellion left to him now.

Surviving their torture wasn't an act of resistance. It was a curse.

An American hero corrupted as a weapon. He couldn't remember his rank, but he knew he had fought. He didn't know which war he had fought in. Which rank he had been. But he had fought. That was how he knew how to use a gun.

Now he was a gun. He obeyed their orders when drugs coursed through his body, shot who they told him to. He let them touch him. He didn't want to, but he had to, because he couldn't fight. That was the curse of what they were doing to him.

These moments of clarity were becoming less frequent. He could tell that. Every time he got his mind back, he would try and scratch a line on the wall, tally off the days like a prisoner. There weren't many lines, and even the most recent were covered in faint grime. He had been losing himself.

That smile had a name. He tried to recall it, to write out the name, but he could think of the letter S. He tried to carve that as well. His nail dug into the grime, and he started to scrape out the letter.

There were footsteps in the corridor, and Barnes moved away from the wall. He looked up as the door opened, and a blond man stood there. He was smiling, but it was a different smile from the one in his memory.
"Soldier." The voice said, and he swallowed, trying to call up his number, to remember it.
"..." He couldn't say his rank. He didn't know it. Instead, he tried to murmur "Barnes." Before the word got out, a boot shoved into his ribs, kicking him hard.

"Not any more." The owner of the boot told him. "You are Hydra property."

He remembered that Hydra were bad. Or maybe they weren't. He was belonging to them, he was shooting him.
"Come with me." The voice told him, and he followed obediently, not thinking of arguing. Any resistance might have that S taken away.

"So, soldier, they tell me the drugs aren't working as well as they used to be. That won't do. The fact you haven't reported it... well, that's a problem."
"I haven't done anything Sir."

"Of course you haven't." The blond reached out and ruffled his hair, twisting the strands. He flinched. The blond laughed. "Well, we'll get there. We'll get there. The scientists are working on some electronic devices to aid the drugs, but until now, we're going to get there together, you understand that?"

Silently, Barnes nodded. The man led him down the corridor, and he followed close behind.
"Are you meant to have him Pierce?" Asked another man walking past. Barnes looked down, away from the voice, recognising it as one of the scientists who cut him open.

"Extra training. It'll be good for him."

With that, there was no attempt to stop him. No attempt to help. Barnes followed, and let Pierce pull out the needle, injecting it into his blood stream. Pierce smirked, and Barnes felt the world start to swirl around him.

Then the training began. It hurt, but that was the point. The soldier, the asset, had to learn not to lie. Not to keep secrets. There was nothing but Hydra.

When it was done, Pierce took the asset back to its cell. It stood to attention in the room as the door slammed closed, mentally running over the instructions that it had been given. It glanced around the room, searching for any signs of danger. It looked over to the corner, and noticed that the grime on the floor had been rubbed away. It shrugged, and scraped its nails over some of the other marks, hiding whatever had been written on the wall. That wasn't important.

Hydra was.

Re: FINISHED FILL: Cheaters Never Prosper (+1/5+1)

[(Anonymous)]

just reread this whole thing and it is so good and so sad. It makes me so happy that Bucky's in a better place now.

(And Bucky willing to get tased himself so that Rumlow also gets tased! <333)

Re: FINISHED FILL: Cheaters Never Prosper (+1/5+1)

[(Anonymous)]

Amazing! I love defiant Bucky. There’s something encouraging about his strength.