hydratrashmeme | 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.

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Her second-in-command found out she was selling weapons. She killed him to keep him quiet."

Nomad thumbed back the hammer.

*

He didn't have to sleep as much as he knew most people did, and it was boring in his quarters, which was how he slipped into the habit. He developed it into a ritual, almost a game. He'd think of something, the smell of his dinner or the color of Doctor Risman's blouse or an overheard name, and feel around for an impression in his memory that was related to it, another color or a melody, even a texture. If he found one he'd use it as the next basis. His longest chain was 47 associations by the morning that Doctor Risman came to his quarters with the folder.

Nomad felt his heart sink. The doctor handed him the folder through the bars and he flipped it open to find a black-and-white picture of a man.

"Describe him," Doctor Risman said briskly. He tried not to let it show that he found the lack of social graces annoying and focused on the picture.

"Caucasian male, mid-twenties, dark hair, eyes probably blue," Nomad said, ignoring his rising unease. "No scale to indicate height but proportion suggests above average." He drew another breath and stopped.

"Yes?" Doctor Risman said.

He swallowed and said reluctantly, "I know him. At least, I've seen him." He knew instantly that it was the wrong answer, though Doctor Risman's face did not do anything as obvious as frown.

"I see," she said. "Come with me."

One of her guards unlocked his door and he trailed her, half a step back from her right shoulder, through the central room (only his quarters were occupied) and down the hall. He knew where they were going, without any clear idea of how he knew, and found himself grateful for her relatively slow pace.

When they came into the room that held the chair, Nomad checked for a moment. He couldn't help it. The artifact itself was innocuous, a reclining leather-covered chair that might have belonged to a dentist if not for the sturdy restraints built into the arms and the array of electronics mounted behind the head. But it frightened him.

"Sit," Doctor Risman said. It took him long enough to make his feet obey that she had to repeat the command. Every step felt like forcing himself through mud and he shuddered at the touch of the leather. He placed his arms in the restraints and a technician snapped them closed.

"I want you to think about the man in the picture," Doctor Risman said, as the chair began to whir. Nomad drew a too-fast breath, and another, as he tried to control his mind enough to obey. The eyes were blue, he was sure of it, and as the contacts came down towards his face he thought It'll be OK, just breathe, you'll be OK, and then the lightning arced through him and there was nothing but pain.

The fact that they're targeting his Bucky memories just fucking slays me, oh my god.

She's not stupid and she has an idea of what broke the Winter Soldier. And a fair amount of contempt for what she thinks of as "crude" methods.

Oh, it's brilliant, no doubt. Suckerpunches me right in the feels, every time.

Oh man, this is what Bucky meant by making himself forget things so that they won't be corrupted/taken away... :(((((

(this is so brilliant <333)

Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

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