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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Fully Completely 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment, blood, cutting, general hatred

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: Today, we have more Loki then tomorrow more Zemo and some Sam on Saturday. I might add in some Andy Barber after that but keep plucking away at this and Candy Coated. Anyway, I’ll see you in the comments and the asks.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 5: Hang me long out in the sun

💀💀💀

You sat against the wall, flinching every time you leaned too heavily on the radiator and burned your arm. You were certain Loki cranked the heat before he left as it was stolid and stifling in the large room. Sweat dripped down your body and mingled with the drying blood along your chest. You were uncomfortable but you didn’t want to get comfortable in this place.

You pulled on your wrist until your hand throbbed and the cuffs showed no sign of wear and the radiator didn’t budge. You stretched across the floor until you could reach the edge of the bookshelf and kicked until some books fell, hoping for some hidden pin or tool to pick the lock. There were only musty old books and dust.

You stood, tried to at least, bent over as you stretched your legs. You did awkward squats and extended your arms to your toes, one at least. You rolled your head on your neck so it cracked noisily and settled back against the wall. You were tired, exhausted, but too worked up to sleep.

It hit you all at once as the stench of smoke clung to your shirt and skin. Your shop was gone, your home, everything you worked for. It was another sick joke played on you by the town of Birch.

Bucky was just another bully. He was like that boy in ninth grade who asked you to meet him at the park for a ‘date’ only to stand you up. You remembered the Monday after when he planted a stink bomb in your locker. The men around there were all the same. Everywhere if you were to judge by Loki.

You closed your eyes and thought of your dad. You thought he would’ve been proud to see everything you’d done; a shop of your own, a life where you didn’t have to worry. He said to you, through his dying lungs, that he knew you would be alright, that you could take care of yourself and Jerome. What about your brother then? Shouldn’t he take care of you too?

For the first time in a very long time, you wanted to cry. You kept your eyes shut to keep the tears locked in and slowly your mind eased. You sunk down as the warmth of the radiator embraced you, unbothered by the unyielding heat against your arm. You could hear yourself snore as you succumbed to your fatigue.

You were woken by the clatter of the door below. The old Victorian house echoed every noise and shuddered at every gale without. You lifted your head with a snort and sidled away from the radiator. Your arm was tender from the constant blaze of the radiator and you winced as you touched it. Fuck, it was burned.

You braced yourself as you listened to the slow ascent. You heard him behind the door and watched the knob turn. You sprawled out and slid a book closer with your foot. You got up and grabbed it quickly and stood in a hunch. You flung it at Loki as he entered but he quickly blocked the hardcover tome with the door.

He carefully peeked around the wood and stepped back in with a sigh. He shook his head as he crossed his arms and nodded as Korg appeared behind him. The bigger man placed the collection of shopping bags on the table and left with a dismissive sniff from his boss. The door closed and you were left to simmer alone with Loki.

“Such a warm welcome,” he strode to the table and tapped his fingertips on the wood, “and after I went to all the trouble of replacing your wardrobe. A pity all those wonderful pieces you had were lost.”

“I don’t want any of it,” you sneered, “leave me here, I don’t care.”

“Darling, while I find your resilience admirable it is also rather irksome,” he said, “and you will find that in the end, it will only make all this so much more difficult. You needn’t suffer anymore.”

“‘You needn’t suffer anymore,’” you mimicked him, “just listening to you talk is suffering.”

He turned his face down and clenched his jaw. He turned and reached into a bag. He pulled out a swath of black fabric that unfolded to an elegant dress with subtle black gems along the neckline like stars. You pushed your head back and stared at the ceiling.

“I can understand, a woman like you, men aren’t lining up to give you nice things,” he said, “I wouldn’t exactly call this giving, more… trading.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled as you closed your eyes again, “you know, you woke me up so why don’t you keep it down?”

“I did have to guess at the sizes,” he ignored you brusquely, “but I’ve always had a keen eye.”

“You can shove your dresses and whatever else you wasted your money on up your--”

“Darling,” he interrupted, “I will not warn you again. That lip does provoke me.”

You jutted your jaw out and exhaled. You bent your legs and crossed your arms over your knees. You were too tired to argue with him. Hell, it only seemed to make you feel more helpless as you could not act on your anger. You hated that feeling. It remind you of that stupid teenage girl again; so gullible and weak.

“You cannot remain as you are,” he continued, “and I will not have a slobbish hick on my arm--”

“Jesus Christ, is your dick so small you can’t find another woman?” you hissed.

He was silent. You opened your eyes and hit your head on the wall as you were startled by how quick he moved. He pressed his knee to your chest and pinned you to the wall as he reached into his pocket and plucked out the silver key. He bent and unhooked the cuff from your wrist.

He caught your hand as you clawed at him and coughed as he pushed his knee harder against the cut between your tits. He tore you away from the wall suddenly and thrust you up to your feet. He twisted your arm behind you as he spun you and kicked your feet across the floor. You struggled with him but each time he bent your arm further up your back.

He pushed you onto the bed and straddled you as he angled you along the mattress. You flailed with your legs as he kept you trapped beneath his weight and released your arm. You reached out as he shifted above you and quickly snatched up your hands. He wrapped his long fingers around your wrists and snugly wound his tie in their place before he let go.

He backed off of you so that you laid across your stomach, your hands bound above your head to the bedpost. You rolled over as he marched away and returned just as quickly. He unfolded the razor with the mother-of-pearl handle and you dug your heels into the bed as you tried to free yourself from the silken tie.

He grabbed your leg and held it down. You brought your other knee up and he blocked it with his shoulder, “if you continue on like this, I might catch the artery.”

He held your leg down and pressed the edge of the blade to your thigh. You froze as he sliced into your skin and you grunted through your teeth. He traced a line down your leg and mirrored it on the other. He retreated and looked you over as you glanced down between your legs, the red lines dripping onto the blanket.

“What the fuck?” you yanked on the tie, “you’re fucking insane.”

“You haven’t any idea,” he held up the razor and admired the crimson along the silver, “but if you insist on this little dance, I should be inclined to go deeper.” He closed the razor and winked, “darling, you are looking rather rough,” he remarked, “but scars will not deter me.”

He spun and strode again to the bathroom. He returned and wiped his hands on a white towel and tossed it over the back of the chair. He sat and continued to sort through the bags.

“You think I’m afraid of you, you prick?” you snarled, “you think you’re going to win? When I get free, I’m going to take that blade and cut your dick--”

He stood and his hand formed a fist. He was atop you in a moment but before he could bring his hand to your throat, you bit down on the webbing between his thumb and index finger. He exclaimed and retracted his hand for just a second before he smacked you across the face. Your head snapped to the side and you held in a groan.

This time his hand stretched over your neck and he leaned over you. His hot breath whispered along your cheek and you shivered in disgust.

“Oh, darling, this will be fun indeed,” he purred, “but I have no doubt that you will be prancing around in pretty little skirts for me before long,” he squeezed until you croaked, “you can even keep them on as I fuck you.”

“Go… to… hell,” you rasped.

He snickered and sat back on his heels with you straddled beneath him, “haven’t you realised? We’re already there.”

💀

You laid there for hours after Loki left you. Even though the mattress was preferable to the floor, you didn’t sleep. You stared at the ancient ceiling and cursed every inch of that place.

Your thighs ached and that cut along your chest. Your arm was sore and raw each time it rubbed against your sleeve or the bed. You were more enraged than ever and you could hardly contain it and frustration had you kicking the mattress.

The windows were dark when he returned. He turned on the lamp beside you as the aroma of food tickled your stomach. You were desperately hungry but didn’t realise it until that moment. You salivated and gulped it down as he pulled up a chair and cradled the box in his lap.

“I’ve brought you dinner,” he said as he opened the cardboard container, “but… you have to use your manners, darling.”

“Get fucked,” you rolled onto your side so your back was to him.

“I can hear your stomach so let’s not pretend I believe you for a moment,” he taunted, “you will realise soon how weak you truly are.”

You didn’t say anything, nor did you move. You sneered at the wall as your arms strained above your head. He let out a long breath and then hummed in delight, “mmm, you know, this is not bad,” he commented, “your little diner has been the least disappointing aspect of this shithole.”

You gulped hungrily but refused to look back. He tapped his foot on the floor impatiently and sighed again.

“You would do yourself a favour if you did one for me,” he said, “say, if you accepted this generosity I might allow you another, perhaps a shower. Those cuts cannot remain unwashed.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you cut me,” you spat, “I don’t want anything from you and I definitely don’t want you. I’ll go live in the rubble, I don’t give a fuck.”

“You will,” he said as he stood and dragged the chair away, “but only you will pay for your stubbornness.”

💀

After another tussle, Loki relocated you once more to the radiator. He slept blissfully as you spent another restless night both sweating and shivering. When he woke, he offered you a bowl of instant oatmeal and you flipped it over. He tutted and went on with his day, leaving you again to stew in your wrath.

By the end of the day, your body rebelled with hunger and you accepted the bowl of soup he brought from The Chipped Saucer. You drank it from the paper cup but felt more rotten as it burned in your chest. He smirked as he watched you and you tossed the empty cup at him.

He scowled and you spent another night in cuffs. On the fourth day, he let you shower but kept you cuffed to the curtain bar for the ordeal. All modesty was gone as you were allowed only a plain white robe after and sat in the same spot, metal at your wrist, and wood at your back.

But you didn’t stop. You bit, you kicked, you hit, you swore, you screamed. A week passed and you wouldn’t accept it. You could see you were wearing on him and comforted yourself with the irritation in his sharp green eyes. You laughed at him outright and it stoked him further. He truly thought you’d never dealt with assholes before. You lived among them your whole life.

But that day when he came in, he was quiet though not sullen or angry. He was almost boasting as he still wore his new leather boots and dark parka. He tramped around and pulled out a mauve coloured dress, some satin and impractical undergarments, and a pair of heeled boots. He placed them calmly beside you but kept out of your reach.

He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. You shook your head at him and scoffed. He waited as you simply yawned into your palm.

“Don’t you want to go see your brother?” he asked.

“He can rot with the rest of you,” you hissed.

“So heartless,” he slithered, “but I shall relay the message to him, as hard as it may be.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” you huffed.

“Well, darling, I don’t know if he should hear me or even if he could, that it would put him in a worse condition,” he mused.

“Worse condition?” you grimaced.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, my apologies,” he preened, “why yes, it seems he did have an unfortunate incident. Some suspect it was an attempt on his own life but you know how gossip is in a town so small--”

“What--” you bit down on your lip, “is he… is he okay?”

“Why, he is rotting just as you wished, yes?” he asked coyly.

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Tell me he’s okay!” you tried to stand but were kept in a crouch by the cuffs.

“If you get dressed and behave, then you can see for yourself,” he said evenly, “or I will alone and hope that he survives his injuries… I wouldn’t expect the healthcare around here to be very adequate--”

“You fucking touch him--”

“What? You are wasting time, darling, and visiting hours will be over soon,” he warned.

You clenched your jaw and squinted at him. You swallowed your derision and blinked.

“Fine,” you said quietly, “I’ll… behave. Just take me to see him.”

“Good girl,” he came closer and knelt to grab your wrist, “but let me be clear, one misstep and you will never see him again. I should hate for him to die alone.”

“Just fucking undo me,” you snarled and his lips curved in triumph.

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blasphemous-tiefling · 3 years

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I think part of the reason why there’s so much discord in the MCU fandom has something to do with the varying directors for TFA, The Avengers, Winter Soldier, AOU, Civil War, Infinity War, and Endgame. And really, the backbone of the issue is how the different directors and how the audience interprets Steve’s character. Strap in. Because this is a long rant on a topic that normal people really don’t care about.

Joe Johnston created a Steve Rogers that was eager, begging to go to war. I absolutely adored the line in AOU when Steve says, “What kind of monster would let a German scientist experiment on them to protect their country?” Because I feel that sums up Steve in TFA pretty well. He’s anti-bully. He wants to fight. But his whole life he’s been put down, stomped on. Steve repeatedly enlisting is both selfish and selfless. His conversation with Bucky in TFA is a great example of this. Steve says, “There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.” And Bucky says, “Right. Because you’ve got nothing to prove.” And that’s it. Yes, Steve wants to fight because he’s always been bullied and doesn’t want anyone else to feel that way. Yes, Steve wants to fight because he wants to defend his country. But also Steve wants to fight because no one has ever given him a chance. Steve wants to fight because he wants his life to mean something. Steve wants to die in battle because he thinks it’s honorable. He wants to prove himself. Steve wants it so desperately for both selfless and selfish reasons, which is why he was so willing to take the serum despite the fact that Erskine told him about past failures. There’s even a certain selfishness to his sacrifice at the end of TFA. Many stories that involve sacrifice ride the line of selfishness and selflessness. By sacrificing himself, you could argue Steve is taking “the easy way out.” He’s distraught over Bucky’s death. He’s won the battle he’s been fighting since getting the super soldier serum. By sacrificing himself, Steve can effectively end the troubles caused by the Tesseract and leave without dealing with the consequences of his sacrifice. This point is a bit of a stretch, and not something that I personally agree with, but the thought it there.

Joss Whedon takes that selflessness and turns it into irrefutable righteousness, and it’s disgusting. Steve has a few goofy lines in The Avengers and AOU that I’ll laugh at, but ultimately, everything he does seems so out of character for him. His constant nagging and arguing with Tony is so unnecessary and doesn’t build friendship. His desire to do everything S.H.I.E.L.D. tells him to do is completely incorrect because Steve went against the military and broke the 107th out of the Hydra facility without permission and repeatedly did whatever he wanted without asking. His incessant need to have all the Avengers do as he says is totalitarian and unbearable to watch. Truthfully, this is where I think people misunderstand Steve the most because not everyone watches every solo movie. The Avengers movies are the biggies that most people won’t miss. So general audiences only see this righteous, dictator Steve Rogers and that really pisses me off.

This is one of the only times you’ll hear me praise the Russos, so get ready- Thank goodness Winter Soldier and Civil War follow Joe Johnston’s characterization of Steve. They even dig into his selfishness and rebellious streak, which I adore. Steve isn’t one to just blindly follow orders. Hello? Does “not a perfect solider but a good man” ring any bells? Perfect soldiers follow orders. Good men fight for what’s right even when the world is telling them not to. That’s who Steve Rogers is. What I adore about Winter Soldier so much is that we see Steve attempting to be this perfect soldier, but it’s just not sitting well with him. Something is fishy and weird. He talks to Peggy about her life. She says her only regret is that Steve didn’t get to live his. Steve talks to Sam about possibly getting out of government work. Sam is that representation for Steve- having a hard time finding out why he’s really in it to begin with. The entire film is about Steve going against the government, military, and S.H.I.E.L.D. with both selfish and selfless desires. He knows he needs to do something because Hydra is growing in S.H.I.E.L.D. but he also doesn’t want anything to do with it anyway, so why not tear it all down? Once Bucky is revealed as the Winter Soldier, Steve puts his life on the line to try to get him back. It’s selfish really. When Steve takes off his helmet and drops his shield, he made the decision to die because he wasn’t gonna continue to live without Bucky. Despite the fact that Steve made friends with Natasha and Sam, he didn’t care. All that mattered to him in that moment was James Bucky Barnes. This is very reminiscent of TFA when Steve breaks Bucky out of the Hydra lab. As the world’s only successful super soldier, Steve could’ve been very valuable to the American government and military. He was even doing mild good by helping sell bonds. But that didn’t matter. His country and his military was no longer priority number one. When it comes to Steve Rogers, nothing and no one means more to him than Bucky. Steve and Sam’s conversation that I previously mentioned also parallels this. After Sam lost Riley, he didn’t want to be in the military anymore. He said he felt like he was up there just to watch, nothing he could do. This is a direct parallel to how Steve feels about Bucky.

Civil War, while a trash movie, sticks with Steve’s selfish yet selfless motivations. “What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us?” Not wanting to surrender his right to choose is Steve Rogers. He just put down S.H.I.E.L.D.- an organization that was giving him demands. Why would he sign his life away to the American government again? Corporations can be run by greed and corruption- something Steve doesn’t want the world to be full of but also something he doesn’t want his world to be ruled by. When Bucky is framed for killing King T’Chaka, Steve knows the Accords will bring Bucky in and possibly execute him. He can’t let that happen. And he asks Natasha not to get in his way because he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. He knows how dangerous Bucky can be, but he doesn’t want Bucky or anyone else getting hurt or in trouble due to this sticky Accords situation. Both selfish and selfless. I don’t even want to get into later in the film, but I guess I will. Guys, there’s no world, no universe, no place in time that Steve wouldn’t try to stop Zemo. Tony never even gave him the chance to explain himself. It was either, “Come with us or we fight.” Steve gathered that team together- not to fight Tony but to fight Zemo. It was never his intention to fight with Tony. He was just trying to stop Zemo. Now, when Tony learns about his parents’ death, anger is a valid emotion. Physically fighting and attacking Steve and Bucky to the point of death? Not valid or even remotely reasonable. It makes no sense as to why Tony would be that angry at Bucky- someone who was tortured and brainwashed to do what he did. Steve had his reasons for not telling Tony considering that when it comes to Steve Rogers, nothing and no one means more to him than Bucky. Of course, Steve was going to hide the truth from Tony in an effort to protect Tony, Bucky, and himself. Selfish yet selfless.

Infinity War gives us the glorious lines of “I’m not looking for forgiveness. And I’m way past asking permission. Earth just lost her best defender. So we’re here to fight. And if you wanna stand in our way, we’ll fight you too.” and “We don’t trade lives.” These lines beautifully sum up Steve’s rebelliousness and need to fight while also not risking others’ lives. He’ll always risk himself first. There’s not much to say about this film considering it’s mostly action and Steve shares the screen with just about every other superhero, so we’re not given a lot of time. But overall, the Russos kept that same Steve Rogers.

And then Endgame does a complete 180 and decides to serve us Joss Whedon’s Steve with a conservative, pro-military, unbelievably illogical twist. Steve’s obsession with Peggy in this film is so out of place. She would’ve died seven years prior in the MCU. Steve’s been living in the present with Natasha, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, and T’Challa. That was his family. He lost Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, and T’Challa in the Infinity War. It only makes sense that he would be fighting for them in Endgame. Yet he’s not. We’re beat over the head about how much he misses Peggy and it’s so unbelievably weird. Steve is never allowed to mourn Sam and Bucky specifically despite the fact that they were his number one companions. He never mentions them. Never has a touching reunion with Bucky. Barely has any reaction to Natasha’s death. It’s disgusting honestly. This is not “I will fight to my death for the people I love” Steve Rogers. And the ending is the most pathetic of all. There’s no world, no universe, no place in time that Steve would willingly go almost a hundred years away from Bucky and Sam, somewhere he wouldn’t fight for others. “Pretending you could live without a war.” I mean, come on. He’s Steven Grant Rogers. It’s disgusting to paint him as this man who would throw away his friendships and a world that is being bullied all for some girl he kissed once and barely knew. No. No, no. Not my Steve Rogers.

I give the directors a little too much crap. I’m fully aware that a whole team of people make these movies, but you can’t deny that Steve changes from movie to movie depending on the director. Endgame is the exception in which the directors were the same, yet they diverged completely from their original interpretation of the character. I’ve heard people say that it had to be an anti-gay agenda- that ending Steve’s story with Bucky would’ve been too gay even if they weren’t romantically involved, but I still think that’s pathetic. Honestly, I would’ve rather seen Steve die than have his character trashed and pooped on like this. From a narrative perspective, what happened in Endgame is not okay. Marvel Studios’ treatment towards “sideline” characters like Natasha, Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky- particularly in Infinity War and Endgame- is not okay. Yeah, I’m aware I get too heated over this fictional universe. But the characters are the only reason I stick around. The stories are lackluster for me. I’ve never been one to watch movies for action sequences. But I’ve always been in love with Steve Rogers as a character- complicatedly riding the line of selflessness and selfishness, dedicating himself wholeheartedly to a cause and to the people he loves. When in the end that character was completely scrapped and shredded in the garbage disposal like crust on bread or the skin of an apple, I’m gonna be angry for a long time.

#why throw away steve’s character?#sorry but I’m just not over any of it #anti endgame #mcu #marvel #steve rogers #captain america #the first avenger #winter soldier #civil war #I’ve seen every marvel property #but I hate #marvel studios #rant #honestly this rant was just for me #may delete later

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gabby294 · 3 years

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Saudade - Chapter 1.

||Prologue||

Summary: "Saudade" - A nostalgic longing for a person or thing that was loved once, but is now lost.

Helmut Zemo's life was forever changed when the Avengers picked his country as a personal playground to fight their own creations. He would never regain the pieces of his life where he was a husband and a father of two. But the existence of new Super Soldiers might just bring him closer to that life he once had than he ever thought was possible. Madripoor holds secrets that even Baron Zemo does not know about.

Word Count: 6.2k

Helmut led them deeper into the garage where his personal collection was stored. Flicking the lights on, he was met with a couple of rows of his favourite antique cars. Just like he left them years ago. It wasn't all of his collection, the remaining couple of dozen were hidden away in other parts of the world. He made a mental note to thank to whoever kept the place cleaned and the cars taken care of. From an initial glance, all of them were spotless, just how he liked them.

"So our first move is grand theft auto?" Sam asked, crossing his arms the moment the light came on.

"These are mine. Collected by the family over the generations." Helmut explained as he pulled open the lid of the trunk. Some of the cars dated back all the way to pre-WW2. He could still remember his father showing him the collection when he was a young man himself. It was a tradition of a sort, in their family. A tradition that he carried on with Nic and was planning to do with Carl once he was older. Years down the line, the same cars, amongst others, were going to be split and passed down equally between them. Now, they would forever be in his collection. He supposed the traditions along with the family name would end with him.

Helmut glanced down at the trunk of the 1946 Packard Clipper that was filled with weapons, knives, and ammunition. He scanned through them all, considering what to take. Some of it will be useful, especially the ones that he could conceal easily. Hearing the doors of other cars being opened, he tilted his head towards Sam and James but refrained from making a comment. Sam chuckled from somewhere behind Helmut, making him turn to him. Sam pulled back from the 1934 Packard Twelve Series 1106 that he was checking out.

"Hey Zemo," He called out, grinning at whatever he was holding in his hand. "Have been secretly a fan-boy all along and were pissed we didn't invite you to hang out?"

"May I?" Helmut asked as he extended his hand. He had a suspicion of what it was already but wanted to see it himself.

"You should keep it. Really brings out your good side." Sam bit out sarcastically and lightly threw it across the couple of feet that were between them.

Helmut caught it easily and opened his palm to see a scratched-up keychain of Iron-Man's helmet. It was light, made of cheap metal, with nearly reflective orange and red paint.

"Huh," he muttered lowly, turning it around a couple of times. The key chain was an old, cheap trinket. He couldn't even remember where Carl picked it up. Their city wasn't exactly in support of Iron man even before the Ultron mess so he doubted it was in Novi Grad. "It belonged to my son. My eldest stole it from him, she liked to do that when they were fighting. I imagine there was another fight over the fact that she lost it."

"Put it away before you lose it," Helmut told her the moment he noticed it dangling from her pocket. "What is it with you and stealing Carl's things?"

"I'm not going to lose it." Nic rolled her eyes and grabbed it. Throwing it to the holder inside the car door she turned to him. "See?"

"Hold up," Sam cut in, pulling Helmut's attention back to him. "You have kids?"

"Had, until your friends showed up. Why does this surprise you? I had a life outside of work." Helmut asked as he ran his thumb across the keychain before putting it into his pocket. It held no value or use, just a small sentimental trinket, he should throw it out.

"Don't get sassy with me, man. If you drop a bomb on us like this, I'm gonna have questions." Sam rolled his eyes, shutting the door harder than it was necessary. Rude.

"As we all do I imagine. Curiosity is wired into our genes after all-"

"Not the time." James interrupted their conversation.

"Right, as I was saying," Helmut cleared his throat and went over to the yellow 1934 SS1 Jaguar where he knew he stored his coat. It was a nice coat. Warm, great quality leather with soft fur around the neck. Ivana loved to steal it and drop it over her shoulders the moment he looked away even for a second. No matter how many times he offered to get her one as well, she would just roll her eyes at him and stick her arms inside it as if to prove the point that it was already hers. It was funny how much it would engulf her, he wouldn't be able to protest for too long even if it ended up in him freezing his ass off at times. He blinked. "I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it's out there, someone can create an army of people… like the Avengers."

Helmut placed the coat on top of the car, making sure it wouldn't fall to the dirty ground. Trying to keep his expression neutral as a wave of bitterness washed over him, he bent down to retrieve a bag from the inside. Once the coat was removed, on the green leather of the car seat, his old, purple mask stared back at him. He paused, having forgotten that he threw it here the last time he drove the car.

Nic made a face as she lifted the mask up and took a look at it. He had stored it away in the compartment box but Nic made her way inside it to snoop around.

"You don't like it?" He raised his eyebrow, pulling out of the garage and into the traffic. He promised to bring her to the Zoo couple of days prior and they were meant to return back home the next day. So begrudgingly, he found a couple of hours in the day when he could bring her, even though they went there not even half a year ago for her thirteenth birthday.

"It's…um…very purple."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Why is it so purple?"

"I think you just don't appreciate fashion." He accused her teasingly.

"You call this fashion?" She shot back.

" I let you sit in the front of the car with me and this is what I get in return?" Helmut feigned the hurt in his voice. "Being bullied by my own daughter."

Nic snorted and pulled it over her head. She pulled down the sun visor to see how she looked before turning to him. He wasn't surprised in the least to see that it was way too big for her. The holes for the eyes and mouth were too low and covered her vision instead.

"You're going to be grounded if I find any makeup stains inside it." He threatened and moved his hand from the gearbox to pull the mask off her head. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she was already putting it on her face. Throwing it behind him to the back, he ruffled her hair even more, causing her to cry out and swat his hand away.

Swallowing, Helmut reached for the mask. His hand lingered on the soft material for a moment. Clicking his tongue, he grasped it tighter and pushed it inside the bag. It will be useful if they ran into trouble and he needed to stay out of the public eye. Nothing else. They really needed to get a move on. The familiarity of the place was making all the memories that he had no time or energy for to come back.

"I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished." Helmut asserted, taking the coat and dropping it over his forearm. With the bag in hand, he walked back to the 1946 Packard Clipper.

"To do this, we'll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes." He explained as he filled up the bag with a couple of knives, handguns, and few boxes of rounds.

"Well, join the party. We've already started." Sam remarked from behind him. He was the jokester amongst them, Helmut thought but ignored his comment.

"First stop is a woman named Selby. Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb." He added.

Once he was by the door, Helmut placed the bag on the floor and turned back to his 'team-mates'.

"Stay here." He ordered them, not particularly wanting them to go around and explore the rest of the building.

"Where are you going?" Sam demanded to know, ready to leap into a fight.

"To change, Sam," Helmut smirked and made a point to look down at his police uniform. "I would offer you to join, but I must say I was a married man and I don't break my vows."

"Just hurry up," Sam grunted disgusted at the image Helmut must have created in his brain.

Helmut did not hurry up. In fact, he took his sweet time in choosing his outfit. The upper level of the garage was converted into a somewhat livable space if it ever came to that. Ignoring the spare bedroom, he went straight to the room that acted as a walk-in wardrobe. After going through the options, he ended up settling on a pair of black slacks and a dark purple turtle neck that was loose enough to conceal the Kevlar bulletproof vest underneath.

"My, my." Ivana grinned, coming into their bathroom and leaning against the door frame while he was buttoning up his shirt. "Don't you look charming tonight?"

"Are you sure your opinion is not swayed by the fact that you got me the shirt?" Helmut raised his eyebrow as he watched her through the mirror.

"Of course not, Helmut," She rolled her eyes playfully, coming in further and wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. "But I gotta say, purple is your colour."

He hummed and tilted his head against her cheek as he finished the buttons, leaving the top two unbuttoned. She leaned in and placed her lips on his earlobe, nibbling it lightly.

"Brings out your eyes," She breathed into his ear, making him shiver.

"Honey," He grinned and turned around to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer until she was pressed firmly against his chest. He leaned in, pressing their lips together for the briefest moment. "If you keep this up, we won't leave this bathroom."

"Doesn't sound half bad to me," She quipped and grabbed his shirt to tug him back, deepening the kiss.

"Daddy!" Carl called out all the way from the bottom of the stairs, interrupting them. At the age of five, he possessed the power to scream down the house when he wanted something. "The TV stopped!"

"Duty calls," he half groaned out and stole another quick kiss, not wanting to leave just yet. "You nearly ready?"

"More ready than you."

Helmut blinked the memory away as he put the razor back in its place and looked at himself in the mirror. With a clean shaved face and back in his regular clothes, he looked half decent. Almost like he didn't spend years rotting away in a cell with nothing but books. Almost like he was presentable enough to go home. Except there was no one to greet him there now. Sighing, he grabbed his gloves from the sink counter and shut the light off on his way.

"Really? You couldn't have taken any longer?" James asked exasperated the moment he reappeared. To his surprise, they seemed to have listened and stayed where he ordered them to.

"I certainly could have, but unfortunately we have a plane to catch." Grabbing his bag and coat, he opened the door and threw them into the back.

"How you plan to get all this through the security? Not to mention that you're a runaway criminal?" Sam quizzed as he side-stepped quicker than usual to get to the front seat.

"I have my ways, you'll see," Helmut responded and pressed the button to open the garage door. Sitting down behind the wheel felt nice. He had to admit, he missed driving.

Once on the road, the car fell into silence for a few moments with the radio playing quietly, before Sam ruined it by opening his mouth.

"So what? You took your kids on your little killing sprees?"

"Killing sprees, as you call it, involve a great amount of waiting around. We went sightseeing, mostly. Sometimes shopping." Helmut entertained his idiotic question as he sped up, darting in between the traffic. He smiled smugly catching James' eye-roll in the back mirror.

From their expressions, Helmut gathered that both Sam and James did not expect him to bring them into a small airport forty minutes outside the city and waltz through it like he owned it. The workers that noticed them simply nodded their heads in greeting and minded their business.

"So all this time you've been rich?" Sam asked, surprise evident in his voice as the three of them made their way towards a private jet that was parked on the runway.

"I'm a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country." Helmut explained as they walked past the plane's wing.

Oeznik was waiting for them by the stairs. Helmut smiled, genuinely happy to see his most loyal friend. The man was in his life as long as he could remember and he was there by his side when Nic and Carl were born, watching them over while he was away. Helmut owed him a debt that he could never repay.

"Hello, Oeznik." Helmut greeted him in Russian the moment he was close enough to be heard over the engine. Oeznik was the one who sat him through hours of Russian lessons many years ago. It was only fair that he would greet him in it.

"Welcome, gentlemen." Oeznik greeted them back in Russian, causing Helmut to grin wider. While James knew Russian better than anyone, Helmut wasn't sure if Sam did.

"Old friend." Helmut embraced him and kissed both of his cheeks. It had been too long. Nodding to him, Helmut turned to James and Sam. Partly to get them on the plane, and partially because he couldn't look at the man for too long, not when he was looking at him with such adoration. Like he was truly happy to see him. It felt wrong. Undeserving. It made his skin crawl.

"Please." Helmut invited them in and boarded the plane. It was one of the smaller jet's that belonged to him; a six-seater with a small gallery. Perfect for quick travel.

While Sam and Bucky got comfortable in their seats, Helmut took a moment to go through the gallery in hopes of finding something that would pass the time between taking off and reaching the optimal altitude. He wasn't a fan of how rocky the first part of the journey tended to be. Helmut could already hear them going back and forth between each other. Finding a book, he pulled out a small red notebook from his coat's pocket. He nicked it, mostly out of curiosity, from James when he wasn't paying attention. He was sure it would also help to understand where the soldier's mind was at currently. After having his memory scrambled for decades, he was bound to be desperate to write down anything important, in fears of forgetting it. It was only logical.

Putting it in the middle of the book, he returned to the cabin and picked a seat near Sam, so that he could have a viewpoint advantage to watch James. He took a look at him for a moment before opening the book and feigning his interest in it. The former Winter soldier had no idea that he lost something. Perhaps James was trying to suppress anything that had to do with the Winter Soldier, including his heightened senses.

Once they were airborne, Oeznik returned with a glass of champagne for him. Helmut chuckled softly and reached out for it, crossing his legs as he leaned back into his chair.

"Apologies if that's a little warm, the fridge is out. But I will see if there is some good food in the galley."

"If it doesn't pass the smell test… give it to them," Helmut suggested in Sokovian, tilting his head towards them, to give just enough suspicion that he was saying something about them. It was fun, getting under their skin. Besides, it wasn't likely that they would tell a difference even if they took the offer of food which he doubted they would. Probably would believe that he was trying to poison them.

"It's good to have you back, sir." Oeznik chuckled with affection in his voice and returned back to the gallery. Helmut tilted his glass before taking a sip, hoping to wash away the heaviness in his stomach that formed. He could think of a couple of things that would be better than him to have back.

"You don't know what it's like to be locked in a cell. Oh. That's right. You do." He couldn't help but deliver the dig, even at the expense of setting their 'friendship' a step backward. He wanted to acknowledge Sam's time in the RAFT, of the time that he was a prisoner just like himself. That they had something in common, not just an enemy. Also to hint that he kept up with the news, that he knew of their actions and steps, even all the way from a prison cell.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?" For what it's worth, Helmut had to give a point to Sam for not falling for the most basic bait.

Helmut instead of answering picked up his book and flicked through the notebook, settling on a list. He paused for a second. He was familiar with the names on it. After spending over a year learning everything there was about James' time as the Winter Soldier, he had Black widow to thank for making his job easier, he understood the meaning behind them. What took him by surprise was to see his own name amongst them.

"I'm sorry. I was just fascinated by this." Helmut changed the subject, concentrating on one name that he didn't recognize. Nakajima was circled a couple of times, most likely the most important name on the list. However, he never came across of a Nakajima in James' files. "I don't know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?"

James jumped from his seat and within a second, had the vibranium arm around his throat. The suddenness did catch him off guard, causing him to exhale sharply but he wasn't scared. The grip was tight, in a way that was meant to send a message, not to actually cause harm. Besides, why would you be scared of a thing you craved in the dead of night? Death wasn't something that could be used against him, not when he welcomed it years ago.

Helmut maintained eye contact, almost daring him to go further. To prove his point. That was what the serum did to people. Edged them towards extremes, and James Barnes was as extreme as one could get. A man-made killing machine.

"If you touch that again, I'll kill you." James declared, with a calmness in his voice that only people who had their hands dirty could muster. Touchy subject then. He yanked the notebook out of his hands and only then released his grip.

"I'm sorry," Helmut apologized, his voice sounding hoarser from the strain it just experienced. "I understand that list of names. People you've wronged as the Winter Soldier."'But why is my name important enough to you for you to write it down in your amends?' was left unasked.

"Don't push it." James bit out, becoming guarded once again, just like when he came to his cell. He reminded Helmut of a dog he used to see back home. Desperate for help, but too long on the streets to trust anyone.

"I've seen that book. It was Steve's when he came out of the ice." Sam noted with fondness in his voice. "I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What'd you think?"

"I like '40s music, so…" James replied, clenching his jaw.

"You didn't like it?"

"I liked it."

"It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience." Helmut joined in the conversation.

"He's out of line, but he's right. It's great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye."

"I like Marvin Gaye."

"Steve adored Marvin Gaye."

"You must have really looked up to Steve. But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America's Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals."

"Watch your step, Zemo." Sam warned him but he ignored it.

"They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? No. That is why we're going to Madripoor."

"What's up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it's Skull Island." Sam asked, glancing between him and James.

"It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s." James was the one to answer him. That was a light way of putting it.

"It's kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone."'But we both know that's not quite true don't we?' Helmut left unsaid.

The flight from Germany to Madripoor took roughly fourteen hours. For the first couple of hours, they sat in relative silence. Helmut drowned himself into the book while James looked out the window and Sam had his AirPods in, drumming his fingers against the armrest to the beat of a song.

Helmut shifted in his seat, closing the book. Sighing, he placed it on the chair opposite of him and stood up needing to stretch his legs. The jet didn't have that much space to walk so he chose to cross the gallery to refill his glass. With the drink in hand, he wandered down into the cockpit where Oeznik and another pilot were sitting.

"Sir." The pilot greeted him in Russian the moment he noticed him leaning against the door frame.

"Excellent flying, Dabrowski." Helmut smiled, crossing his arms. "haven't felt any turbulence."

"Thank you sir."

The cockpit fell into silence, not that Helmut minded. He was too used to it to find it uncomfortable. He watched the clouds pass them by, sipping the champagne. Feeling eyes on him, he turned to Oeznik.

"Did they treat you alright, Helmut? Truly?" Oeznik asked, switching to Sokovian while looking at him with such adoration and worry that Helmut had to look away yet again. He cleared his throat and plastered a smile on his face. Even to himself it felt forced.

"Of course Oeznik, you worry too much." He chided him gently. The man always fussed about him. He always fretted over Ivana as well, concerned if she ate enough throughout the day. Never went a day without secretly giving Nic and Carl a piece of candy even if Carl never was able to keep it a secret.

"Well it has been my job for over forty years and you tend to find trouble around every corner." The older man chuckled fondly.

"Nonsense, I'm always on my best behavior. How have you been? I imagine you enjoyed the much-needed vacation days." Helmut changed the subject easily. He didn't want to linger on what once was.

"If I knew your drastic ways of making me take the vacation days off, I would have taken them sooner," Oeznik joked before his smile fell away. "Things have been quiet. It a strange thing to get used to. Even after all these years, I expect to hear Nic and Car, to just pop out around any corner that I turn. I make sure they always have fresh flowers, especially Ivana. She was hellbent on having fresh flowers around the house."

His voice broke, thick with emotion. Helmut had to bite down the inside of his cheek to keep himself composed. The metallic taste filled his mouth and as he ran his tongue over the spot, it sent a small jolt of pain.

It had been so long since he saw their graves. He only went there once, to watch their caskets be lowered into a deep hole. As if that somehow could have brought him some sort of closure, as if it would have granted him the ability to say goodbye. The thought of returning, of stepping a foot in that damned graveyard, of looking at three tombstones, side by side, washed him over with such coldness that even if he jumped into antarctic water he would have been warmer. Shame flooded him. What kind of a man did not visit his own family? What kind of a husband, a father, would let them rot alone.

"Thank you, Oeznik. I'll…" Helmut swallowed, trying to find the words that seemed determined to be stuck in his throat and left unsaid. "I'll make sure to pay them a visit. Later."

Helmut did what he did best; he lied. You told her they would be safe. Look how that turned out.

Made another useless promise, knowing full well he couldn't walk down that path, not without putting a bullet in himself and joining them.

Madripoor was just as vivid and bright as he remembered. The lights of the High Town shone from miles away. They stopped by Helmut's safe house, where James and Sam reluctantly changed into a set of clothes that wouldn't instantly attract attention to them. Especially for the roles that they would have to play if they wanted to get information. Unsurprisingly, it took longer to convince Sam to dress up than it did James.

"We have to fix this. I'm the only one who looks like a pimp." Sam groaned out, looking at his apparel for the tenth time in disgust.

"Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp." Helmut sighed as he dug out his phone and split his attention between looking at the road in front of them and through the gallery to find a picture of Conrad Mack. "You look exactly like the man you're supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger."

"He even has a bad nickname." Sam took a glance at the picture. "he does look like me, though."

Sam passed the phone back to him. The closer they walked to the city, the sharper the distinct stench became.

"You smell this?" Helmut asked keeping his attention upfront. A car was arranged to collect them at any moment now, but anything could happen between now and then. He rather not have surprises popping up at them in a place like this. Even he didn't know the city that well and he doubted many people would be willing to help out.

"Yeah, what is that? Acid?"

More like a combined mixture of the fumes from the buildings, production of drugs, all the imported animals and God knows what else. Helmut had no doubt that the water surrounding the city was toxic and could kill someone if they fell into it.

"Madripoor."

A bright beam of headlights flashed them as a car came to a stop a short distance away from them.

"No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There's no margin for error." Helmut explained calmly, barely moving his lips just in case the driver felt particularly nosy. They could trust no one.

"High Town's that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town's the other way." He added, opening the passenger door.

"Let me guess. We don't have any friends in High Town." Sam said as he walked around the car.

Helmut gave him a smile and sat down in the front. The destination, Brass Monkey, was already agreed during the call so Helmut only needed to forward the payment before the car moved in the direction of Low Town.

It did not take long until several motorcycles surrounded their car. Someone already knew of their arrival before they even took a step inside Low Town. Helmut's money was on the Power Broker, which was not the best news for them. He watched Sam turn around and look behind him through the rear-view mirror.

Once the car stopped, Helmut nodded to the driver and exited the car. Wordlessly, he led James and Sam through the streets, passing armed guards, dealers, and hookers until they arrived at Brass Monkey.

"Here we are. Remember your roles no matter what happens." He reminded them again, giving a hard look to Sam. He knew once James got into the role of the Winter Soldier again, there would be very little that could affect him enough to give up their act. It was Sam who made him nervous. His seemingly constant need to check up and staring at James might be the thing that gets them caught. The last thing they needed was for the whole city-state to put a bounty on their head.

The inside was packed with all sorts of lowlifes.

"Ready to comply… Winter Soldier?" Helmut asked James in Russian, loud enough for people to hear and for whispering to begin. He needed the whispers to travel to the right people. Not only would it get them to Selby faster, but it would also buy him security. Winter Soldier's reputation around these parts was well known, not many would want to dive headfirst at them.

Helmut lead them to the bar and took a quick glance around. For the most part, there was no one that stood out or seemed out of place. He noticed that to their right a couple of feet away, two women stood together, but only one of them kept her eyes trained on them. It was the insistent staring that caught his attention. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell much about them, the taller one wore a hood and the one that was watching them had a mask that covered half of her face. The mask reminded him of what the Winter Soldier used to wear. The Bar's security perhaps. Or maybe an interested party.

"Hello, gentlemen. Wasn't expecting you, Smiling Tiger." The barman approached them, distracting him from the two women. He took a look at Sam but didn't appear to be suspicious over his appearance.

"His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby." Helmut answered instead. They had agreed that he would do all the talking and they would simply need to nod along and look pretty.

"The usual?"

There came their test. Seeing the barman take a cobra out of a glass container and drag a knife across it, Helmut sighed dramatically, expressing his feigned happiness at receiving Sam's 'favourite' drink. It was made out Gin, Triple Sec, Cobra heart, and finger lim.

"Smiling Tiger, your favorite." He emphasized with a smile on his face. Helmut had to admit, it was going to be fun.

The barman placed their drinks on the table.

"I love these," Sam spoke up and looked at him, holding the shot as far away as he could from himself.

"Cheers, Conrad." Helmut clinked their glasses and knocked back the shot. It burned his throat as it went down, the heart adding that extra kick of spice to the mix. It wouldn't be his first choice of drink, but it wasn't the worst that he tasted.

"Mmm. Mmm."

While Sam tried to force himself to drink the shot before it became too obvious, Helmut glanced to the corner of the table again. The woman with the hood was gone but the second one was interested in watching Sam with the drink. They definitely had an audience. Not so good.

Hearing someone approach from behind, Helmut turned in time to see the Power Broker's henchman coming up.

"I got word from on high. You ain't welcome here."

Helmut considered his words carefully. They needed to prove that James was under his control. These types of talks often needed a bargaining chip and what was better than a Winter Soldier?

"I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…" he responded and gestured to James who was stiffly standing beside him.

"New haircut?"

"Or bring Selby for a chat."

After a glance at James, the henchman left them alone. Hopefully to get Selby. Licking his lips, Helmut turned back to the bar.

"A Power Broker? Really?" James muttered out lowly, unimpressed with the name. Not that Helmut could blame him, the name was a little bit cliché.

"Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar." Helmut shrugged. The one time that he indirectly dealt with the Power Broker was back in '08, when the EKO Scorpion needed to obtain a particular nerve agent for one of their missions. Even back then, you did not want to get on the wrong side of the Power Broker. He didn't even want to imagine how big his empire was now.

"Do you know him?" Sam whispered, glancing around the bar.

"Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is the judge, jury, and executioner." Helmut elaborated and tilted his head to their watcher. "And has eyes and ears everywhere. She hasn't stopped watching us ever since we stepped a foot near the bar."

Sam's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise and he glanced in her direction. Helmut didn't have much time to say anything else. More of the Power Broker's men were making their way towards them.

"Winter Soldier." Helmut looked at James dead in the eye. "Attack."

He ordered in Russian just as a hand gripped his shoulder. James did not hesitate, ripping the man's arm off him and bending it backward. Dragging him towards the centre of the room, he broke the man's arm in half and threw a punch in his face using the prosthetic arm, rendering the man useless on the floor.

Helmut smiled. He was right after all. No matter how much James denied, the Winter Soldier was right there, still inside him. The bystanders took out their phones, filming as the Winter Soldier single-handedly took out anyone that came at him.

Helmut stood back and apart from pushing a couple of them into Winter Soldier's path, he watched the scene unfold. James was lethal, just like he was all the way back when they first met and Helmut uttered the words of his programming. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman leaning her body over the counter as she said something to the barman who promptly left with a phone pressed to his ear.

"Didn't take much for him to fall back into form." Helmut chuckled, shrugging his shoulders at Sam who seemed a little bit pale. He barely paid any attention to Helmut, his eyes only watching James.

The Winter Soldier grabbed someone by the throat and lifted him in the air before throwing him over the counter. The sound of multiple guns cocking behind them made Helmut's heart skip a single beat. Glancing around, it seemed like every single person was arming themselves. Sam gripped James' forearm causing Helmut to hiss out:

"Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us."

The Flying Tiger certainly would not be touching James' without wishing a swift death sentence. James' not reacting to a threat, allowing a touch on himself would blow their cover to pieces. Sam let go.

"Well done, soldier." Helmut praised James, replacing Sam's hand on him with his own. He needed to take control of the situation and fast.

The barman returned and nodded to the woman.

"Selby will see you now. Follow me, gentlemen." She spoke out for the first time, rising from her seat. The honeyed voice twinged with a familiar accent ripped the breath right out of Helmut's lungs. Even muffled by the mask, it was distinguishable in all the ways that it couldn't have been possible. It halted him to the spot, unable so much as to inhale the air that his lungs started to scream for. He did not see James let go of the man or Sam cast him a confused look when he made no move to follow.

This was not possible.

I 'll try to update the fic once a week to keep somewhat consistent schedule :)

Please let me know what you think and I can't wait to bring you more content soon x

#tfatws #Zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo fic #marvel #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #fanfiction #zemo's family

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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eunoia - chapter 1

Summary: Quinn is back in Delacroix, Louisiana

Sam Wilson x Quinn (Asian ofc)

Warnings: Some spoilers for Civil War, Inifinity War, Endgame and TFATWS

Wordcount: 3.2k

Masterlist // eunoia masterlist // Previous chapter

I watched AJ and Cass grow up into the boys they are now. It might be obvious to some, but I came to the realization that every step of their development is crucial. Teaching them boundaries, new skills and their abilities when it comes to social interaction.

Noticing that importance, made me wonder even more about the things that had happened in my past. What significant events happened for me to become who I am today. I don’t feel like anyone, like I have no personality, no history.

Fragments of memories are the only things I have left of my past. I remember laughing with people, though they remain faceless till this day. I remember warm weather, cold weather, but the hugs are the same. They are loving, caring. But there is also a lot of pain and exhaustion. There is confusion when I saw Bucky for the first time being contained in a small cell.

But those fragments are not equal to an entire memory.

Everything I started to experience is from the moment Zemo let me out of that cell back in Munich. Fighting alongside the Avengers, though never actually being one of them, meeting people during my solo trips through the country and sleeping in abandoned buildings by myself, since I had no money.

Delacroix, Louisiana, however, is the only place I dare to call home. I know there is a place somewhere that used to be home, but since I haven’t found that yet, I’ll rely on the place that feels most secure.

Of course I was aware that going here could mean bumping into Sam. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, because I missed spending time with the Wilson’s, especially AJ and Cass. I wonder though, what Sam might think. Me spending time with his family in the years he couldn’t.

I grew so close to the three of them, whilst we only had one thing in common.

Knowing Sam.

Since Tony’s funeral and Steve handing the shield to Sam, I have been wandering around the different states, even making slight detours to Canada, hoping to find something. I have been so desperately wanting to know something for so long. Anything that could be something that should be a treasured memory of mine.

Much to my dismay, I am still left in the dark. I have no idea who I am, where my roots started and who is out there missing me.

Are there even people missing me?

After I scolded the boys for growing, I hold up my hand to the older guy who has been appreciating my arrival from the moment I got here a little over five years ago. ‘Hi Carlos,’ I say to him.

‘Miss Quinn!’ he exclaims, rushing over to me in the fastest pace he can and hugs me tightly when I’m within arms reach. ‘Oh, do I love it when you join us.’

‘I love to be back.’

‘You’re gonna help me out, right?’ Carlos asks. ‘Things go much slower without you here. No one has come even close to your strength.’

‘I figured,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ll help you out, okay?’

He blows me a kiss, before AJ, Cass and I walk towards Sarah and Sam. I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am. While Sam was contemplating whether or not to take the shield from Steve, I sneaked out. Ran off hating Steve. Hating the fact that he got older. Being able to go back in time, to not only place back the Stones and what not, but also to grow older with Peggy.

The love of his life.

He got to live his happily ever after with someone from his past, something that I would probably never experience. It took me months to realize that I wasn’t mad at him.

I was simply jealous.

Sarah opens her arms for me and I don’t waste a single second before letting myself being engulfed in her warm embrace. How I longed to feel a hug from her. ‘I missed you,’ she says to me.

‘I missed you too,’ I admit softly.

‘Don’t you dare leave me alone for too long.’ She holds onto my upper arms and glares at me. ‘The kids missed you too much.’

‘We did,’ they confirm in unison

I can’t help but laugh. ‘I missed them and you too much as well, hence the reason I came back.’

‘Oh, so you didn’t came back for my brother?’ She cocks an eyebrow. ‘He too just arrived.’

Sam scoffs and I pretend to roll my eyes, but I cannot miss the tone in her voice. She always pestered me about her brother, saying that if he were still here, we’d probably be all over each other.

Yeah right…

I remember first arriving here and staying in the guest room, one where Sam used to sleep if he crashed here in Delacroix. She caught me looking at pictures of Sam and slightly bullied me because of it. Maybe it seemed like I liked him, but the truth is: I realized how much I missed him.

Back when I helped out the Avengers, he was the only one I truly trusted. Because I cared so much about him, I went out of my way to go to his DC apartment in the midst of all chaos, to grab some personal belongings of his and make my way to his family.

Sam promised me he would always have my back and I don’t blame him for not keeping his promise. It’s just that now that he is back and I’m about the face him, it hits me how much his five year absence killed me deep down.

I’m too afraid to meet his eyes, but I know I have to eventually. ‘Solely for the kids,’ I say to Sarah, because that is the main reason I came back. The kids and Sarah.

Sarah squeezes my upper arms, almost as some encouragement and I look up to Sam. ‘Hi Quinn,’ he says to me, his voice warm, welcoming and trusting.

I missed him. I missed him looking at me. All of his attention directed to the person he’s talking to. It’s good to be on the receiving end of it.

‘Hi Sam.’

‘How are you?’

I have no idea actually. ‘I’m okay,’ I answer. ‘You look good.’

He seems a bit surprised, but a slightly cocky smirk appears on his lips. ‘As do you.’

Sarah frowns, as she looks from me to Sam back to me again. ‘How about you two catch up?’ She opens a cool box and grabs two beers. ‘I’ve got your favorite, Quinn. You must be tired from your trip. You deserve it.’

‘You’re the best, Sarah, thank you.’

Both AJ and Cass stand next to me and give me a tight hug. ‘You’re already taking her away, uncle Sam?’ AJ asks. ‘That’s so unfair. We want to know how the battle against Thanos went.’

‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ I say to them, slightly touched because they don’t want me to go.

‘Is this Superhero talk?’ AJ asks, looking at his uncle.

‘Boys, I told you,’ I say, ‘I’m no superhero.’

‘But you’re really strong,’ Cass says. ‘I think you are a superhero.’

‘She totally is,’ Sam says. ‘You should’ve seen her in the battlefield.’

I don’t do blushing, but I do this other thing: my ears turn in this fiery red color. It’s horrible, I hate it and of course today of all days I’m wearing my hair up in a ponytail, for everyone to see how the tips of my ears turn red.

‘Uncle Sam, to be fair, we like her more than we like you.’

Sam cocks an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’ he asks. ‘That means I need to work extra hard to be number one again.’

‘If you get me one of those flying suits, you two are even.’

‘AJ,’ Sarah says, ‘we spoke about this. I’m not gonna let you fly around. Sorry Sam, you’re in third place.’

‘Third place?’ Sam asks, pretending to be offended. ‘Why third?’

‘Because mom is number one, auntie Quinn is number two and you are number three,’ Cass says. ‘Duh.’

Sam and I sit on the dock, both staring at the old boat. Paul & Darlene. A nearly nostalgic smile appears on my lips. ‘Sarah and I tried to fix it up,’ I say, flicking the cap off the beer bottle, doing the same for Sam. ‘Emphasis on tried. We didn’t have a lot of money, we had tons of other stuff to do and I have no idea on how to fix up a boat.’

Sam nods, grabbing the beer from me as I hand it to him. ‘Figured, think the two of you broke something in the process,’ he chuckles.

‘That would’ve been me, I’m sorry.’ I take a sip of the beer and think about the next thing I’m gonna say. ‘So,’ I start, ‘you gave up the shield.’

‘Not in the way you might think,’ he says, almost in a bit of a defensive tone. ‘I didn’t give it up. I gave it to the museum where it belongs. It’s a piece of history, not mine to use.’

I frown, as I fear that he might not know what I know. ‘You think it’s gonna stay in a museum?’ I ask.

Now he looks up. ‘Of course, what do you think?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘it’s not gonna be part of the exhibition. There is… Someone who will receive the shield soon.’

It pains me to see his expression. The hurt, the betrayal. Poor Sam, he obviously wasn’t told about that. ‘I had no idea.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘How do you know?’

I shrug. ‘I went to one of my hackers,’ I say, ‘to see if he could help me with carefully running my picture through any database. We stumbled upon some governmental documents and it read that once they had the shield, they would give it to some guy who is training for it. I believe his name was John Walker.’

‘That could be anyone,’ Sam notes with a scoff.

‘Exactly,’ I agree, ‘but it shouldn’t be anyone. Steve gave that shield to you, not this John Walker guy. I’m not saying that giving the shield for an exhibition was wrong, but… I do know this is not what both you or Steve had in mind when you gave the shield to the Smithsonian.’

Sam shakes his head and from the looks of it, he is beating himself up over this. ‘They should’ve told me.’

‘Had they told you, would you kept the shield?’

He nods. ‘It’s Steve shield, not mine, not this John guy.’

I have no idea what I should say to him. I want to say about myself that I know how to comfort someone, but that someone is not a grown man. The only ones I can remotely comfort, are AJ and Cass and when necessary, I can sort of calm Sarah down (though I have gone wrong there maybe once or twice).

‘Is this John Walker gonna go public any time soon?’ Sam asks.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why do you think Steve gave me that shield?’

I was not expecting that question at all, but it’s an easy one to answer. ‘You’re the only one worthy of the shield, of that legacy. You are more than Captain America’s friend, Sam. You are the only one that can live up to the expectation.’

‘I don’t know, Quinn.’

‘Listen, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t have hesitations. It only shows that you are humble and I think that is exactly the type of man Steve wanted for the shield.’

From the looks of it, Sam grows more and more uncomfortable. To redirect the conversation, he clears his throat and says: ‘Bucky isn’t gonna like this.’

Oh boy, I hadn’t even thought of that. ‘Have you spoken to him?’

He shakes his head. ‘Nah, he ignores my texts.’

I can’t stop my smile. ‘Mine too.’

‘Oh, you’ve been texting him?’ Sam asks. eyebrow cocked.

‘Sometimes,’ I say, ‘it’s just that I figured we had something in common. He just went totally AWOL after his pardoning and I have no idea what he is doing. I bet he doesn’t even wanna be found. If there is something going on, he’ll show up.’

‘Well, good thing Bucky doesn’t even know where I live,’ he says, ‘think you and I are safe for a while.’

I chuckle, looking at my beer bottle. ‘Yeah, bet you’re right.

That night, I walk into the room I always sleep in when I stay over at the Wilson’s, only to discover a shirtless Sam, in nothing else but boxers near the bed. That looks abnormally good, I think to myself, before I realize that it’s considered rude to just walk into a room like that. ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I’m so sorry.’ I pull down the sleeping shirt, hoping it covers up my legs more.

‘No, I am,’ he says. ‘I could’ve known you would sleep here. Let me grab some blankets and I’ll take the couch.’

‘You’re taking the couch?’ I ask.

‘Yeah.’

I’ve slept on that thing and if it was uncomfortable for me, who is the size of a kid, it must be even worse for him.‘The bed is large enough,’ I say. ‘Pick a side.’

‘I don’t want to cross any line, Quinn.’

‘You won’t,’ I say. ‘Believe me, I shared sleeping spaces with people, most of which were… different than you, in the negative sense.’

‘Right,’ he says. ‘I want the right side, closer to the door.’ I watch Sam stepping in that part of the bed and slide underneath the covers and I walk around the bed, stepping in as well. We stare at the ceiling and the only thing we can hear is the breathing of one another.

I missed being in the Wilson’s residence. I missed the talks we would have, the food we would eat and the way the boys would talk. They’ve gone a long way and I sound like an old grandma, but I am so proud of them. Growing up during the blip, watching their mom work hard, that must’ve been tough, but they pulled through.

They grew up to be fine young men, who are strong, who are kind and mostly, who still know how to be kids.

But what’s different now is the presence of Sam and it’s not an unpleasant one. He obviously loves his sister and nephews and even after coming back from a rough mission, he gives them his time and attention.

Everything he has to offer.

Even if that means annoying his sister about the family boat. Sarah told me all about that dragon of a money sucker. It costs a lot and she doesn’t have time nor the money to renovate.

‘Where have you been?’ he asks.

‘When?’

‘Those five years and those months after the shield.’

I let out a sigh. ‘I have been wandering around the country after the blip, hoping to find out more about me. To no luck, I came in empty handed. After the shield, I continued wandering. Just realized I needed family. I needed Sarah.’

‘Thanks for helping her out.’

‘Oh, she didn’t need helping out,’ I say. ‘Besides, I wasn’t much of a help.’

‘I bet you were,’ Sam says with a smile. ‘You’re tired, go have some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

That night, I yet again have a dreamless dream. I never dream. Maybe I did, but I don’t remember. I barely remember everything. There are three major things in life that are the foundation of my life.

I hate cold weather, the person who has been playing a major role in my life is Bucky, who I haven’t spoken to for months and I have enhanced powers, but I have no idea where they are coming from.

Things in my life never made sense.

I remember when Zemo freed me, only for me to roam through the city of Münich and be caught by the team of Everett Ross. How Bucky has been a part of my life, has always been a mystery, because Bucky can only tell me he would see me back in his cell, before Hydra wiped him.

But what have I got to do with Hydra?

The next morning my eyes flutter open. I take a deep breath and lift up my head, only to realize I was resting it on Sam’s strong chest. ‘Morning,’ he says, his voice deep and it almost sounds like liquid gold.

Shit, I’m too close. ‘Good morning,’ I say, pushing myself up. ‘I am sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’

‘Sure? You feared you were overstepping, but now I am the one. How long have I been… resting like this.’

‘The second you drifted off to sleep. You’re a wild one. Think I’ve got at least a few bruises and broken ribs with that super strength of yours.’

‘Sorry,’ I chuckle. ‘I hope you’re okay.’

‘I’ll live.’ He sits up straighter and rubs his eyes.

‘How did you sleep?’ I ask.

‘Alright,’ he says. ‘It always takes a bit of getting used to when I get back here.’

‘I see.’

The door barges open, only to see Sarah. ‘There you two are,’ she says, tying up her robe she wears over her pajamas. ‘You should see the news. They are announcing the new Captain America.’

My heart stops beating for a moment and I look over my shoulder to see Sam. He gets up, puts on some clothes, while I grab some sweats. We all walk into the living room, only to see the boys already sitting in front of the screen.

‘Every day Americans feel it,’ the man on the television says. ‘While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values.’

I watch Sam staring at the screen, as he talks place on the couch. I carefully sit next to him, hoping he is not spooked by my presence.

He isn’t.

‘We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero.’

I don’t know whether Sam is disappointed in himself for believing the shield was gonna be exhibited in the Smithsonian or in the government who betrayed him.

Either way, watching this must be awful.

‘Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.’

The new Captain America. It’s like a punch in the gut. The cheering, the waving of the generic John Walker holding a shield that isn’t his.

I place my hand on his knee and for a split second I fear he is going to swat it away.

But then I feel the warmth of his palm on my hand and he looks to the side. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes say enough.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

He nods. ‘Yeah, me too, Quinn. Me too.’

#sam wilson #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson x quinn #sam wilson x woc ofc #sam wilson x asian ofc #sam wilson x ofc #sam wilson x oc #sam wilson fanfiction #quinn #asian ofc #woc of #anthony mackie x woc ofc #anthony mackie x asian ofc #anthony mackie x oc #anthony mackie x ofc #anthony mackie fandom #anthony mackie fanfiction #anthony mackie #eunoia

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ghststry · 3 years

Text

𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙰: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚢 / 𝚍𝚛. 𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚛.

I want to preface this with the fact that the writers of t.tfatws are purposefully writing Dr. Raynor as a poor therapist. This is a narrative decision to go hand in hand with other narrative choices revolving around the portrayal of the government, military and police in t.fatws. Dr. Raynor represents and portrays a therapist that a lot of veteran's have experiences with when it came to their journey in seeking mental health and are very on the nose with how bad it is within the narrative. Before I write a full meta on the two therapy scenes that we see, I know that there are many viewers saying that Dr. Raynor is using "tough love" in order to reach Bucky and get him to open up to her, however this approach is a) inappropriate and b) ineffective.

𝙴𝙿𝙸𝚂𝙾𝙳𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽

The very first therapy session that we see between Bucky and Dr. Raynor establishes pretty quickly that Bucky is not comfortable confiding in Dr. Raynor about his nightmares. Instead of easing Bucky into opening up with her, she accuses him of lying and proceeds to remind him that the reason he's there, isn't for her to help him with his mental health but to report to the Government, that he is of sound mind and not a threat. When Bucky still doesn't open up, she proceeds to threaten to write in her notebook. Something that Bucky obviously doesn't like, views as passive aggressive and makes him uncomfortable. Dr. Raynor goes on to say "You don't talk, I write.", establishing that this is something that she's done before, likely on a regular basis, in order to force Bucky into confiding in her.

(The following is my own personal interpretation of Bucky's feelings about the notebook writing as there is no solid canon proof of it ). We are all aware of how the Russian branch of Hydra controlled Bucky when he was the Winter Soldier. Not only did they utilize the mind-wiping torture device chair, they also used Vasily Karpov's red notebook. The notebook that had Hydra's brainwashing words written inside of them, which was also used by Helmet Zemo when he triggered Bucky back in Germany during CA:CW. It is not that far of a stretch that Bucky may have mention this notebook to Dr. Raynor during previous sessions but even if he hasn't, he has made Dr. Raynor aware that he does not like it when she writes in her notebook during their sessions. Something Dr. Raynor not only chooses to ignore, but uses to force Bucky into speaking to her when he does not want to.

Next, Bucky establishes that one of the exercises that Dr. Raynor has given him, is an Amends List. A list of names of people that Bucky has harmed or uplifted into positions of power through violent acts ordered by Hydra while he was their opperative, and that he has three rules when engaging with it and that by engaging with it, it should help with his nightmares (it doesn't). She then proceeds to go through his phone, and rather than ask Bucky about why he feels that he must self-isolate and pull away from those within his contact list (seen as Bucky ignoring messages from Sam), she instead attacks him for failing to nurture his friendships and that the fact that she is the only number he has called all week is her, is "sad". Likely invalidating the effort Bucky went through just to do that.

Dr. Raynor then proceeds to, as Bucky rightly accuses her, lash out at him due likely in part to Bucky's refusal to open up to her. "You're alone. You're 100 years old, you have no history, no family—" which, predictably, causes Bucky to get defensive, and so she once again, grabs her notebook. Furthermore, when Bucky does eventually open up about the calm he experienced while in Wakanda, and how he was forced from one fight to the other for 90 years and that all he wants is peace, she tells him that it's bullshit.

Dr. Raynor demonstrates in this one scene alone that she is rude, doesn't care about him personally, and would rather be anywhere else but there. She bullies him into opening up by threatening to report his being uncooperative to those in charge of his pardon, invalidates what steps Bucky has made to trying to reintegrate into civilian society and passive aggressively uses her note taking as a means of forcing him into confiding in her.

𝙴𝙿𝙸𝚂𝙾𝙳𝙴 𝚃𝚆𝙾 𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽

Under construction for now because there's actually a lot to unpack here.

Dr. Raynor arrives at the police station after Bucky failed to make their session, but Walker is the one that bailed Bucky out of jail and informed both Dr. Raynor and Sam that he would no longer be following a strict schedule. Likely meaning that he would not be having any further sessions with Dr. Raynor. A Condition of his release is to have a session with her, which she proceeds to demand Sam sit in on without asking Bucky (or Sam for that matter) if he is comfortable with it and once more is being passive aggressive with the notebook.

While the Miracle Question is an intervention exercise for couples and family, the Soul Gazing test isn't and is likely just a writers decision to continue the staring contest gag.

#★ ― to be asked what this ruin is. 「 meta. 」#tfatws spoilers #personals please don't interact

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fanfictionandmore · 4 years

Text

Stay ~ Zemo One-Shot

I walked into the kitchen feeling drowsy from a lousy nights sleep. I'm pretty sure I looked like death warmed up. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes I suddenly noticed that I wasn't the only one awake this early in the morning. Helmut Zemo was sitting at one of the tables in the cafeteria.

Sam, Bucky, and Sharon brought him in on the recent mission they've been working on. Everyone here at the facility have been trying to stop and track down the person that stole a biochemical weapon. So far we haven't had much luck. Zemo was staring blankly into the bowl of oatmeal that was sitting in front of him.

His arms were folded and he was laying back in his chair looking all defeated. I knew exactly what was bothering him. Our team has a few jerks on it and they tend to bully those they feel are different, and Zemo is very different... a good different in my opinion. The two of us have actually gotten to know each other fairly well since he started staying here.

He has been helping me with my combat training; making me stronger, faster, and smarter. But he has also made me realize that I have a weaknesses and that weakness is him. I have fallen in love with the boy with the sad eyes. I've been trying to fight my feelings for him. Trying to tell myself what I feel is sympathy for the pain he has gone through.

But the fact is that I let him take my heart. I pressed my thoughts to the back of my mind as I poured myself a steaming cup of coffee. Then I walked over to the table Zemo was seated at. "Is it okay if I sit with you?" I asked him curiously. He slowly looked up at me with his big brown eyes. Sadness was churning in those beautiful orbs of his. He nodded and I pulled one of the chairs out so I could sit down.

A few moments of silence passed between us as I sipped my coffee. The sun was just starting to rise above the horizon, causing the room to have a lovely golden glow. "Hey, what's wrong?" I asked him softly before placing my hand on his arm. "I don't think I belong here. I've lost everything... I'm just floating through life. This mission is helping me keep my most poisonous thoughts at bay, but... what do I do once it's finished?" He said softly in his pleasant sakovian accent.

His words broke my heart. "If the others are telling you you don't belong here, they're just bitter that you're far more skilled than them. You belong here more than anyone; stop being so hard on yourself. When all of this is over you'll have a new family who cares about you. So don't even think about leaving or I'll be so angry with you." I said.

The thought of him leaving and not getting to see him again hurt. It hurt in a way I've never felt before. My insides were twisting and squirming. He studied me with those beautiful eyes as the sadness in them was replaced with something else. A small amused smile spread across his handsome face.

"Love is very dangerous. Perhaps I should have taught you that when I was helping you with your training." He said. My face burned with embarrassment. 'He knows... he knows how I feel about him.' I thought inside of my head. He moved closer to me and kissed my forehead before gently brushing his soft lips against my ear.

"I'll stay as long as you promise you'll never leave me." He whispered. Goosebumps spread all over my body and I felt like my heart was going to explode. "I promise I'll never leave you, Zemo." I said in a whisper of my own. He smiled a genuine smile before he took a bite of his cold oatmeal and frowned. I laughed before suggesting that I make breakfast for us, which he agreed to.

#baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #zemo one-shot #writing #my writing #one-shot #zemo squad #reader x zemo #reader insert #daniel brühl

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cheesebongdynasty · 5 years

Text

Food for Fanfic/Fanart

Orphans/Partial Orphans:

Thor: Watched each family member and best friend die in front of him, one by one.

Is kind of reckless with rage, but mostly holds it together surprisingly well. Tony Stark: Loses parents in college, spends decades thinking it was a car crash (and likely blaming dad for it), then watches footage of their murder with the apparent killer right next to him, and in the same instance, learns the comrade also next to him admit with no visible remorse that he knew.

20 minute violent meltdown, then makes no further attempt to go after Bucky.

Next time we see him, Tony is helping Rhodey with his legs. Afterward, Tony puts all effort into mentoring and protecting Peter Parker and defending the Earth from Thanos. Improved personality implies that the Siberia incident also inspired him to seek sought long overdue mental help.

Wanda and Pietro Maximoff: As children, saw parents killed by missiles with Stark’s name on them, spent days looking at one “Stark” nuke waiting for it to kill them. “Recruited” by Hydra shortly after.

Committed a number of atrocities while working for Hydra... but they were “recruited” as traumatized kids, switched sides relativity quickly in “Ultron,” Pietro gave his life to save Clint and a kid, and Wanda expressed visible guilt over her past. She also had no ill words for Tony after “Ultron” save “You locked me in my room!”, which she was fine with until Hawkeye convinced her not to be

Also, she joined the Avengers despite Tony being a constant reminder of her parents’ deaths, and as mentioned above, she’s stopped giving him shit for that.

Steve Rogers: Dad died before he was born, mom died when he was a teenager/young man, apparently no next of kin able or willing to take him in, just Bucky.

Took questionable measures trying to follow in war-hero parents’ footsteps, at an age when young men are most vulnerable to testosterone-fulled stupidity, nad in a time period with some limited ideas about masculinity, and with his medical conditions and always getting bullied for them.

Bucky Barnes: Unless one of his parents has lived to be VERY very old

Everything bad he did was under mind control, so.....if you wanna blame Buck for that then go fuck yourself. With a cactus.

Black Panther: Saw dad killed by bomb

"I didn’t kill your father!” “Then why did you run?” Tried to murder Bucky based on shaky evidence, for at least one full day, not listening to Buck the one time he said he was innocent, it’s not like anyone was making much of an effort to convey Bucky’s innocence to BP. In any case, T’Challa learns the truth, stops letting revenge consume him, defeats Zemo, and saves the shit out of our Buck-muffin.

Princess Shuri: Dad murdered.

Does nothing bad.

Erik Killmonger: Found dad’s murdered body. Abandoned by Wakandan relatives. Mom somehow out of the picture. Grew up seeking revenge, and the power to “save” his culture, as he saw it. Willing to murder own relatives and countless innocent children to do so. We feel for him but let’s face it, he’s a bad guy. As Okoye said, “Your heart is so filled with hate, it is not worthy to sit on that throne!” Peter Parker: And Uncle Ben, but we’ll get to that later.

Peter Quill: Mom dying of cancer in the hospital, while he was a child, was his last experience on Earth. Years later, dad admits directly to Peter that he put the tumor in her head, with no genuine guilt. Also, there’s a graveyard of mountains of the skeletons of Peter’s half-siblings killed by his dad as well (though this oddly isn’t brought up much) Kills his evil dad, with a bit of poetic justice (puts a “tumor” of sorts in Ego’s “head”)

Gamora and Nebula: Parents murdered by Thanos; raised and brainwashed by parents murderer.

Worked for the most evil man in the universe, after growing up brainwashed by him, and both still managed to see the error in this and turn against him

The rest of the Guardians of the Galaxy: Very likely, but can’t say for sure

Did a ton of questionable stuff, because they’re a ragtag bunch of antiheroes with shitty pasts.

Hope Van Dyne: Mom “died” when she was a kid, relationship with dad crumbled as a result

Ava Starr/”Ghost:” Saw parents killed in lab accident

Gradually turned evil after Shield (or Hydra?) manipulated her to be their assassin, and living in constant physical pain all her life.

Loki: Orphaned as a blue baby, didn’t learn the truth for hundreds of years. Then saw adopted mother die.

Did a ton of evil stuff, killed Phil, but...... he’s such a ham, does anyone take him as a serious villain anymore? He’s basically Plankton from “Spongebob,” just looks better in chains. Love or hate him as you see fit, I don’t really care.

Other Dead Relatives/Surrogate Relatives:

Thor:

Saw adopted brother die, more than once; had to kill his own sister

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes:

Unless all of their relatives are very, very old.

Steve Rogers:

Saw BFF/surrogate brother Bucky “die,” twice, right in front of him

Wanda Maximoff:

Saw brother die, and works with the man who her brother died to save, a regular reminder of Pietro’s death

Peter Parker: Uncle Ben

Tony Stark:

Surrogate son dusted in his arms, while begging not to go and then saying “I’m sorry,” leaving Tony coated in his remains

Black Panther:

Forced to kill own cousin

Shuri:

Brother was forced to kill their cousin

Dr. Strange:

Dead little sister he couldn’t save

Peter Quill:

Mountains of skeletons of his half-siblings killed by his dad; also, saw adoptive father die in his arms, giving his life to save his

Nebula:

Adopted sister murdered by evil “dad” (who also probably killed her parents and possibly siblings)

Rocket:

Loses entire surrogate family, the one he’s closest to right in front of him, as a kid

Dead Lovers:

Peter Quill: Was willing to keep his promise and kill Gamora--his last living loved one after losing literally his whole family--to save the universe. Fails. Thinks he can rescue Gamora after all. Learns of her murder with the murderer inches away from him.

Loses it for, at most, one minute. Then gets right back into the fray. Only real question is why the others didn’t anticipate this, and restrain him with their super-strength/magic

Wanda Maximoff: Was willing to kill Vision, her last living loved one after losing her whole family--to save the universe. Thanos steals this sacrifice, and murders Vision right in front of her.

Gets dusted right after

Steve Rogers: Saw his first love dying of old age, and had to bury her

Hank Pym: Or so he thought for enough decades, it may as well count

Valkyrie: Saw comrade and lover killed in battle (behind scenes info confirms this was her lover)

Lost hope in her duties as a Valkyrie, helped the Grandmaster capture and kill innocents... but then turned against him and helped Thor save the world from Hela

Carol Danvers: Probably, according to her backstory

Deaths They Thought They Were Witnessing:

Steve Rogers:

Saw Bucky fall to his “death,” thought he was dead for years

Tony Stark:

Saw Pepper “die” after failing to catch her (and seeing her tortured)

Peter Quill: Fired to kill Gamora, only for the blast to become bubbles Everyone in “Black Panther:” Thought they saw T’Challa killed by Killmonger

Hank Pym: Thought he saw wife die before him, spent decades thinking she was dead and losing relationship with his daughter for it

All Survivors of the Snappening:

Probably

Physical Torture:

Tony Stark: Water-boarded in a cave, after heart surgery with no anesthesia Pepper Potts: Roasted alive Bucky Barnes: Hydra guinea pig for 70 years Gamora: Part of her indoctrination as a child Nebula: Pulled apart by Thanos to get info from Gamora Dr. Strange: Squidward’s pin cushion Rocket Raccoon: “Taken apart and put back together”

Ava Starr: Childhood accident left her in nonstop pain all growing up

Thor: Electrocuted while restarting that artificial planet to get Stormbreaker

Physically-Modified Without Consent:

Rocket Raccoon:

See above

Bucky Barnes:

Winter Soldier transformation

Tony Stark:

Car-battery in chest

Gamora and Nebula:

Part of being “adopted” by Thanos

Bruce Banner: Lab accident

Ava Starr: Dad’s lab accident

Guilt Complexes:

Tony Stark:

Shut down weapons company and became Iron Man after seeing how his weapons were being misused, confessed guilt at public press conference while seated down under the podium; worst fear is teammates and world dead because he couldn’t save them; built Ultron to prevent this from happening; donated huge sums of money to college kids and signed Accords over Ultron guilt; “...and if you died, I feel like that’s on me. I don’t need that on my conscience.”

Guilt about trying to kill Bucky not directly addressed, but as he’s made no further attempt to go after Bucky, it’s highly likely that Tony has learned more about Bucky’s situation and, having seen Hawkeye mind-controlled and having personal experience with mental illness, probably doesn’t feel great about Siberia.

Wanda Maximoff:

“This is all because of me!” at destruction caused by Ultron: visibly horrified by her misfire in CW; says “I’ve caused enough trouble” when Hawkeye is first trying to recruit her; tells Vision he should keep his word to Tony Stark in IW; and is visibly upset at news of Tony going missing on the spaceship (bear in mind, she has seen Tony’s worst fear, and heightened it)

Bucky Barnes:

“But it was still me.” “I remember them all.”

Steve Rogers:

Blames self for Bucky’s first “death” in CA:TFA. Questionable “apology” letter to Tony at least includes phone, and promise to be there for anything, risking capture. Steve probably does feel bad, even if he’s not that great at expressing it with words.

Bruce Banner:

Need I say more?

Thor:

Survivor’s guilt is pretty obvious. Also, guilt and humility were requirements for being able to lift the Hammer in his first movie.

Natasha Romanoff:

“You think you’re the only monster here?”

Dr. Strange: Failed to save little sister, and then the Ancient One

Scott Lang: Feels like a failure to his daughter, more so after “Civil War,” clearly has at least mixed feelings if not outright regret about his role in CW

Hank Pym: Blames self for wife’s “death”

Ava Starr: ....maybe? We’ll have to wait and see.

Everyone else:

Survivor’s guilt to some degree is clear every time a comrade, mentor or civilian dies.

I’ll probably update this as I think of more.

#tony stark defense #tony stark #wanda maximoff #starlord #peter quill #marvel #mcu #angst #antistark #villain #hero #evil #hate #defense #wanda #tony #bucky #steve

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