#avengers gore

[stil-lindigo]

motherhood.

[lokiswifeduh]

Don't leave me

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- The aftermath of the shootout was here. And Bucky has to come to terms with the results of the life he introduced you to, and what revenge he would ensue.

notes- this is a part two to Doll, please. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading loves!!

Warnings- angst, talk of guns, drugs, kidnapping, abuse, torture. major gore. sad Bucky, hurt reader, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, medical talk, revenge.

WC- 3k

catch up here (part one)

masterlist

"Doll, please."

I saw her look up at me with those doe eyes. Those big beautiful eyes painfully gazing into mine. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to turn her away from the bullets that were sure to fly our way, but I couldn't move my hands. In this moment I couldn't protect her.

I felt the sob rip from her throat. There were only ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stand by your side, Buck." She looked back to the ten guns pointed in mine and her direction. I could see a stray tear slip down her cheek as her hands shook, her nails digging into her palm as she tried her hardest to release my wrists from the painful wire digging into them.

Suddenly she dropped the knife, jumping into my lap. Her hands wrapped around my neck as her legs surrounded the back of the chair, encasing my upper body. "NO! Doll, please!!" I felt her hit the knife in my thigh with hers, but I ignored the pain focusing on what in the world she thought she was doing.

The men cocked their guns. But in that moment all I could think about was how to get her off of me. I needed her to run, to fight back to do something. Not to protect my body with hers. I couldn't let her.

"Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!" But my protests fell on deaf ears as she tucked my head into her chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, not letting me move a muscle below her. She shook her head, my tears soaking her shirt, mixing with mine and her blood. "I won't let you die." She attempted to shout but at that moment her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I tried to whisper back when suddenly shots rang out through the warehouse. My head popped up, prepared to die with the love of my life. I wouldn't let her do it herself. I would not live without her. Not if I had a choice.

But in that split second, I realized the first bullets that went flying weren't from Rumlow's men, it was from Steve, Sam, and my men, shooting at the ones who threatened us.

"Doll, we're gonna be oka-" But my words were cut short as two bullets flew into her. She screamed. Her vocal cords grinding together in the most painful way I'd ever heard. I felt my heart rip in two as her body shook against mine, arching her back as if that would stop the pain.

But she kept her head down, arms shaking yet still holding onto me. I would have cut my hands off if I had the strength to rip through the restraints. A sob tore from my throat, "Don't do this to me."

She finally lifted her head, my beautiful wife looking at me with such care and tenderness. As if she hadn't just been shot twice, and wasn't using all of her strength to hold onto me for dear life.

A small drop of blood trickled down the side of her mouth as her teeth were painted red. "I love you, James Barnes." She cupped my face in her hands, tucking me back into her chest as her grip seemed to loosen, "Till forever and always."

The words we both said to each other on our wedding day. "Doll, please." Her hold on me finally failed as she fell, but thankfully into the arms of Steve, before her head would've slammed into the concrete.

My second in command looked at both of us. Tortured and bloody. I held in my tears as I looked at Sam, leading a pair of medics through the door.

"Rumlow will pay." The wire from my wrists was snapped in half thanks to Peter, a new, very terrified recruit. I shot down immediately onto my knees, holding her head in my hands as the paramedics loaded my wife onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

I made eye contact with Steve, "I will have him and that traitor's head."

_________________

You lay in the hospital bed, your whole body practically wrapped in soft white bandages.

You could feel the pressure of something on your thigh as you tried to open your eyes. It wasn't working. Why couldn't you just open them?!

Try something else, you thought.

You moved your hands, the feeling of someone else's palm in yours made your heart start to race. You could remember little parts over the last three days.

Bucky was kidnapped.

Steve was put in charge.

You were kidnapped.

Natasha was working with Rumlow.

The torture.

The pain.

Your husband's face as you used yourself as a human shield.

Being shot.

Suddenly you heard screaming and saw bright lights. A heart monitor was beeping louder and faster at each passing second.

Realizing the screaming was in fact your own, you started to breathe harder. You finally could open your eyes!

Your surroundings were blurry at first. There was a familiar figure in front of you. Sounds were muffled but began to come back into focus.

"Doll?! Sweetheart, you're okay."

You shook your head, looking around in panic before realizing you were in fact back at home, in your bed. Bucky beside you. Your husband, holding your face in his hands.

"B-Bucky?" Your voice was raspy and your throat felt like sandpaper, rubbing together from underuse.

Involuntarily you started to cough, holding a hand up to your throat which only caused more pain in your back to bloom. "Ah," You groaned, swallowing before resting your head back on the pillow.

You felt Bucky's hands leave your body, but only for a second as he held a straw to your lips. "It's just water doll. I need you to drink this for me." You nodded, feeling a pounding in your head as you sucked down the refreshing liquid. The coolness soothing your throat like rain in the desert.

"Good girl." Bucky gave you a soft smile, taking the straw away from your mouth as you finished the water.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you regained your vision, looking around.

Monitors, medical equipment, and an abundance of flowers and cards filled your and Bucky's bedroom. Light shone through the window as you squinted, shooting over to look at Bucky who just gazed down at you worryingly.

You looked him over, seeing the cuts and bruises that adorned his face. His lip was split in multiple places. His thigh was wrapped in gauze and his wrists were bandaged. Looking down, so were yours. Actually, it seemed your entire body was.

"Are yo-," You swallowed, "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a moment before letting out a laugh. "You're asking me if I'm okay, doll?" You nodded, confused.

"Sweetheart you're the one who's been unconscious for three weeks and has two bullet wounds."

You twisted your hips a little, feeling the agonizing, shooting pain of the very real bullet wounds. Groaning, you whispered, "So that definitely happened, good to know."

Bucky ran his hand down the side of your face, sitting in the chair that was placed beside your shared bed. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect you, doll." You gulped, "I- I couldn't let you die, James."

Bucky closed his eyes, laying his head down on your thigh as he gripped your hand in his. "I would've rather die than see you in this state, sweetheart."

You lifted your other hand, running it through his untamed hair. "Don't say that, Buck." But his head lifted, making you notice his bloodshot eyes and the way tears streamed down his face in harsh lines. "I won't live without you, doll." He shook his head, a tear dripping onto the hospital blanket "I would rather die a thousand times over and over in the same painful way than see you in such agony, my love."

You held back tears, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breath. "I couldn't- no. I wouldn't let you die like that, Buck." You looked at him once again, "Not at the hands of Rumlow. Not because of me." "This wasn't because of you, doll-" "But it was!" You shouted, making you cough slightly, not used to using your voice for this long yet. "Rumlow took you because he wanted to hurt us- because he wanted me." You cupped Bucky's jaw in your hand, "Because I chose you." Bucky gulped, "I've never been so scared." You softly laughed, thinking of all the shootouts, drug deals, and interrogations Bucky went through on a day-to-day basis.

But he shook his head, hearing your chuckle. "Seeing him hurt you and torture you the way he did." Bucky's eyes went dark, "I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad just to ensure you made it out of there safely." You tried to speak up but Bucky kept going. "And look at you now. You're laying here, with two gunshot wounds, fingernails ripped apart, and a busted-up face."

Tilting your head, you looked at the mirror that stood in front of your and Bucky's bed; genuinely taking in your appearance. You in fact did have a busted-in face. Your lip was split. Your eyebrow was stitched as well as your nose. You had bruises covering every inch of your skin and your hair was in the worst shape you had ever seen.

Gulping, you looked away from the mirror, making Bucky take your chin in his hands, guiding you to look him in the eyes. "But you're still the prettiest doll I've ever seen." He moved, bringing his lips to yours in a soft yet long-awaited kiss. "My best girl."

It hurt to smile but you did, bringing your hand to his face, gently rubbing over the matching bruises that mirrored yours. "I love you, James."

"I love you, doll."

________________________

The next few days were agonizing.

You could finally stand up on the third day. But not without terrible pain shooting in every nerve ending of your body.

Bucky helped you with everything. From showering to cleaning your wounds. He was quite the nurse when it came to you.

But unfortunately about a week after you woke up, the violence hadn't ended. There were still some loose ends to tie up.

Slowly walking down the stairs and into one of the main rooms, everyone's attention went to your hobbling frame. "Doll?" Bucky sped over, Steve immediately pulling up a chair so you could take a seat.

As you sat down you noticed a large bruise on Steve's jaw. You knew Bucky would eventually be mad at him for not properly making sure you stayed out of the mess and violence of it all. But you were hoping it would've been a stern lecture, not a punch.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bucky whispered. The room stayed completely silent as Steve, Sam, and the rest of Bucky's men kept their backs turned, giving you two some privacy.

"I know you're planning to retaliate against, Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, taking your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Well, Bucky's sweatpants.

"I don't want you involved again, doll." He glanced back at Steve for a moment, "Not after what happened."

You shook your head, "I need him to pay for this, Buck." Your body shook with anger, "I want his fucking blood." Bucky was slightly startled, never seeing this much hatred in your eyes. You were always his sweet wife. You made the men cookies, and you organized charity events for the homeless shelter down the street.

Sure, you knew how to use a gun and fight if you had to. But seeing this much agonizing resentment on your face, scared him. But he knew you wouldn't let it go. He sure as hell wasn't.

So he let you know the plan, and what was going down.

______________

"Steve? We good?" Bucky touched the earpiece, hearing an affirmative. The mob had infiltrated Rumlow's mansion only one week later, killing every single man who stood in their way. Shoot on site. Was your husband's order as you and he waited to enter the mansion, making sure only Rumlow and Natasha were left.

Two of Bucky's men opened the doors to the mansion. The sight of the place made you cringe slightly. Soldiers were dead on the ground everywhere. Blood painted the floors and staircases like a stain.

"Top floor, back left bedroom."

You heard Steve's voice echo through the earpiece as you and Bucky made your way up.

His hand never left the small of your back, making sure you were covered at all angles with men following behind and in front of you, rifles pinned for every aspect of an attack.

"You alright, doll?" Bucky whispered, his hand on the door that would lead you to Rumlow. You nodded, ignoring the dull pain in your back. "I need this to be over with." Your husband kissed the crown of your head, nodding to his men as they busted down the door, guns held high.

But the sight in front of you made you smile.

Rumlow was beaten down, cowering in the corner of the room as Natasha stood in the corner, you could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear she caused you as she ripped your fingernails to pieces.

"Brock Rumlow," Bucky spoke in a deep voice, pulling on a pair of black gloves, before handing you a matching pair.

You slipped them on, hand placed on the knife that was strapped onto your thigh, just above the black jeans you had on.

Steve and Sam patted Bucky on the back, looking toward you with respect. "Have fun, you two." The blonde spoke, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

"P-please, Barnes." Rumlow pleaded, "Have mercy."

Bucky was about to laugh before Natasha beat him to it. "Oh, please. You two really think he was the mastermind behind all this?" You looked over at the redhead in the corner, your former friend.

"If he's not, does that mean you are?" Your voice carried through the room, a newfound confidence making you raise your head high.

Natasha grinned, "And here I thought you never would've survived." You tilted your head, "Two bullet shots and I'm walking four weeks later." You pulled the gun from your other holster, "I can't say the same for you after this." You pointed it right at her forehead.

"Come here," Bucky moved forward, knowing you had Natasha pinned with the intent to shoot; dragging Rumlow up as two of his men held him on his knees.

"Nat, please. Do something." Rumlow begged, making you let out a laugh under your breath. "Do you think she's really in the position to?" You saw her move forward slightly, making you cock your gun, "One more step and I blow your fucking brains all over these white sheets."

Bucky grinned, loving this color on you.

"You really thought you could take my girl from me?" Your husband kneels in front of Brock, pulling out a knife from his belt. "What did you call her after breaking her nose? Oh, that's right, a 'lovely specimen."

Bucky's smirk dropped, nodding at the two men holding Brock down as they forced his mouth open. Brock shouted and yelled as Bucky gripped the end of his tongue, pulling it from his mouth and slicing it clean off from the base with his knife.

Brock wailed and cried as another soldier brought over a jar filled with a yellow liquid, opening the top so Bucky could drop the tongue in. He closed the lid, holding it up high as he watched Brock's mouth fill with blood. "What a lovely specimen."

"You two are fucking sick." Natasha, sneered, making you grip the knife from your own holster, throwing it and landing it right in her hand that was held in the air. She screamed, falling to the ground and back up until her back hit the wall.

You kneeled down, gun still pointed in her face, "Talk again and next time your tongue will join his in the jar." Your former friend gulped, nodding as you smirked.

Bucky gripped the front of Brock's shirt, making his back touch Bucky's chest as he held a knife to his throat. "Anything you wanna say before I kill you in front of your girlfriend, Rumlow?"

You laughed, slightly, making Bucky huff in humor. "Oh, that's right. You can't" He whispered the last part before slicing a clean and deep cut across his neck, blood pouring out as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering and sputtering in pain as he bled out, his eyes on you in fear as he eventually stopped moving.

Natasha looked back at you, still clutching her bleeding hand into her chest. You kneeled down, "Why, Natasha?" She shook with terror, hardly being able to force the words out. "Why did he have to pick you?!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Natasha scoffed, looking over at your husband, then back to you.

"Before you came along I thought he could love me. But then you showed up, taking all Bucky's attention. I never stood a fucking chance." You laughed, sighing before standing and walking over to Bucky, placing a hand on the back of his head before smashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. He groaned, biting your lip and making you moan into his mouth.

You chuckled, still holding the back of his head in your hand. You lifted your arm, perfect aim.

"No, Natasha. You never stood a fucking chance." One, two, then three shots rang out through the room as you planted two bullets in Natasha's head, and one in the chest.

Dropping the gun, you saw her body slump to the ground. Dead.

Bucky turned you away from the scene, bringing your face into his hands as both of you had unshed tears in your eyes. "It's over, doll."

You nodded, holding onto his hands as they held your face. "Can we go home, Buck?" He nodded, bringing your face into his chest as he walked you back through the house and into the car. "We're going home, doll. I'm never leaving you."

End

__________________

part one (read first)

masterlist

Taglist:

@yeahyeahyeah23-blog @rinniereads123 @shortnloud @julvrs @unaxv @sapphirebarnes

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Soldier Of Death (4)- Fighting The Enemy

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 2.3k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Chapter Warning: Graphic Depiction of Violence and murder, dark thoughts

—

Crimson stained your hands, the warm liquid slowly dripping down your forearms as you leaned over the body, fragments of skull blending with flesh and brain being held in your trembling hands.

Eyes pleaded you for their life as you stood over their body, words spilling desperately out of their lips as they stared up at you, begging for you to take mercy. Their pleas were cut short, blood splattering on the floor behind them, the life gradually draining out of their eyes.

A gut wrenching cry was torn out of their throat when your hand forced its way past skin and bones, fingers roughly gripping onto their intestines, squeezing with vigour for another primal sound to be ripped out of them before pulling hard, their body falling limp to the ground. A small squelch follows when you drop the organ next to their corpse, not even giving the scene a second glance.

Your hand hits the side of your head as you twitch it to the side, shaking the thoughts out of your mind, trying to focus on your mission.

Your mind was slowly fracturing into pieces, various memories flooding your thoughts as you walked through the eerie hallway, boots echoing in the abandoned space. You weren't sure what had happened, the only thing that you knew for certain was that you were to obey. You didn't have a choice. It was engraved in you. Listen to them. Kill for them. That was all you had to do.

No we don't.

We are better than them.

We aren't a toy for them to play with.

Your jaw clenched at the irritating voice sounding around in your head again, merging with the violent flashbacks, further adding to your unpleasant mood. You were a weapon. Weapons didn't need to think. They just kill. Yet, the incessant part of you was adamant we were stronger, more powerful than them, we could do anything if you just gave over control.

Yes, see, you're getting it now. Give me control.

"So what? You can murder everyone," you mutter out loud, the mask muffling your words as you argue with your alter ego, knowing that, despite the things you have done based on the flashbacks, the things they have done... They were darker, more sinister, they enjoyed it. You didn't. You never would. You did what you had to do to survive.

It's what they deserve.

You want to scream at the voice, begging it to shut up. Yes they deserve to die for what they had done to you but you weren't going to be the ones to kill them.

Every time you come back, you somehow try to be more virtuous.

It groans, a scoff leaving you. You were trying to make up for the things you had done, be a little more merciful, there was nothing wrong with that.

You can't. We can't be good anymore. There's no point in trying to redeem us. We're already a monster, there's no changing that.

At its words, you remain silent, doing your best to ignore them as you wander through the hallways, your eyes focussing on small indents on the wall.

A violent scream was torn out of you, your hands doing everything in their power to stop the guards dragging you back to your cell, your veins burning with agony as the serum entered your bloodstream. Your fingers dug into the concrete, leaving indents as you pried away at the stone, desperately trying to stop them from taking you back.

You shook your head once more, the painful memory soon fading away, leaving you confused. You suddenly seemed to recognise the building you were in, your fingers slotting against the marks, the handprints slightly smaller, your mind too broken to place the significance of the memory.

Pushing down the screams echoing in your mind and shaking off the further memories that invaded your thoughts, you worked your way around the building, searching for the room you were instructed to find. All you knew was that there was a flash drive in there that Hydra needed to keep out of the Avengers' hands, the team apparently gaining intel on this base.

You weren't expecting them to locate it yet nor for them to be in the base, but your general warned you to stay on guard, the order more difficult than expected due to the instability of your mind.

You were nearly at the room but a gnawing feeling made you pause in your tracks, head tilting curiously at the room you were stopped outside of, your hand moving without thought to open the door, revealing the dark and empty concrete cell. You swallowed nervously at the sight of dry blood staining the walls, the floor and even parts of the ceiling, another flashback painfully invading your minds, causing you to lose focus.

***

"I don't have a good feeling about this Steve," Natasha mutters while the two of them enter the base, Wanda entering through a different exit, the team confident in her magic ability and training to handle herself.

"Neither," he sighs out in agreement, their bodies almost silently walking through the abandoned building, Natasha taking the corridors to the left while Steve went right, splitting off to cover more ground.

Nerves etched away at Natasha, the spy confused at the sudden emotion she was feeling. She never got nervous, so why was she on edge? Her gun was firmly gripped in her hand, creeping through the hallways with it raised, ready to fire if needed.

Emerald green searched through various corridors, her eyes glossing over with crestfallen look at the marks all over the wall, indicating a clear struggle all the way down the hall until it reached the isolated steel door at the end. Natasha was already walking towards the room when a quiet, pained noise caught her attention, her finger ready on the trigger as she rounded the corner, pausing at the sight before her.

Your ominous figure stood facing an empty room, hands twitching by your side, unaware of the spy near you, or the Captain who rounded the corner on the other side of the hallway, pausing when Natasha signalled for him to do so.

"Don't make me kill them," you almost whimper out, lost in a spiral of memories, your mind replaying the broken memory. "They're just children."

"I won't repeat it again Soldat," his voice low and commanding at your ear, malice lacing his next words, "Don't leave the room until every single one of them is dead."

Steve raises his shield ready to throw at your words, confusion written across his and the redhead's face.

I told you. We're a monster.

Snapping at the voice inside your head, your fist collides with the wall, trying to express your anger, confusion and hurt, when the sound of metal gliding through the air reaches your ear, body turning to the side, hand catching the vibranium disk.

Steve's face pales a little at how unaffected you were by his throw, most people being knocked back a little, his expression swiftly switching to shock when it's thrown back forcefully at him. He has to take a couple steps back when he catches it to stay balanced, your body making it's way over to him, eyes slowly becoming lifeless as you flicker between having and losing control.

He uses his shield to protect him when your fist collides with the metal, a loud noise reverberating around the room, a gunshot being added to the mix when a bullet slices through your leg, jaw clenching at the pain. You grit your teeth, swinging your other arm to hit the side of the blonde man, a groan escaping him at your strength while he goes to parry your other punch, you injured leg swiping at his knee, knocking him back to the ground.

While the man climbs to his feet, a pair of thighs wrap around your head, trying to force your body to the ground, unable to beat your strength. Wrapping your arms around the back of her body, her elbow being brought down on whatever part of you she could reach, you push her body into the nearest wall, her back painfully banging against it.

The sound of boots approaching quickly causes you to pull away from the wall, slamming the body down against the floor, a small cry escaping her before you lower your body, merely evading the punch from the man and tackling his body to the ground, shield clattering next to him.

Your legs straddle his stomach, grip tight to prevent his movements while your hands goes to his throat, merciless with your grip as his face starts to turn red. Your thumbs dig in harshly against his airways, his hands prying at your own, fingers digging in painfully with the amount of strength he was using making your grip falter, hands reaching to the red and blue metal disk.

Fear glosses over in his eyes as you raise the shield into the air, attempting to bring it down on his throat when his hands clutch at the bottom of it, desperately trying to stop you. Your eyes are dark, no ounce of humanity left in them as you press down harder, the edge of the shield pressing lightly against his throat as he fights for his life,

To catch him off guard, you lift the shield, his fingers slipping off it and enabling you to abruptly bring it back down.

His hands only just block his neck in time, a muffle groan leaving you at the pain radiating throughout your body, electricity coursing through your body from the small device attached onto your neck. The device causes a sense of Deja vu to flicker across your mind, ignoring it as you stagger to your feet, turning to the redhead who raises her gun at you.

Blood oozes out of your leg from where she last shot you, Steve regaining his breath as he slowly pushes his body off the ground, your gaze locked on the woman in front of you, familiarity causing your head to tilt while you stare at her, waiting for her next move.

You can see her hesitation, her finger hovering over the trigger as the barrel is aimed at your face. You take a step forward, daring her to take the shot when she swiftly lowers it, another bullet lodging itself into your body, pain radiating from your side.

You fall to your knees at the pain, her gaze flickering to the man behind you, his hands grabbing the shield once again. You close your eyes, focusing on the sound of his movements to imagine his stance, visualising his body behind you and waiting for the gap to present itself. When he goes to swing the metal at you, you press your hand down into the ground, using it to spring your body off the concrete as you spin around, kicking your leg out to strike into his side.

A loud snap can be heard as the force of your kick splinters his ribs, his body falling to the concrete while he takes in sharp breaths, anguish evident on his face as he holds his side.

You're certain that if he was human the impact would have killed him, instead it merely immobilises him, your attention returning the woman you think you know.

When she keeps her gaze on you, the firearm still aimed at you, you can feel annoyance and anger enter your mind as she hovers her finger over the trigger, not wanting any more bullets to be lodged inside you. Your fingers deftly wrap around the handle of the blade in your pocket, swiftly pulling it and spinning it between your fingers as you wait for her to make the first move.

Confusion sneaks onto your face when she merely smirks at you, her gaze flickering behind you for a brief second. Without even thinking, you turn and launch the knife at the other figure, the metal blade being encased in red tendrils of magic before it clatters to the ground, the brunette's eyes glowing red.

There's a glint of recognition in her eyes when she sees you, her magic abruptly travelling towards you and wrapping around you, the tendrils seeping into the side of your head and into your mind.

You're powerless against her magic, an animalistic noise being torn out of you as more gruesome flashbacks swarm your mind, hands desperately clutching at your head to make it stop.

Natasha watches with a pained look, your cries of anguish stirring something inside her while Wanda lets out a small cry at the things she was seeing in your mind.

You fall to your knees roughly, fingers digging into the side of your head as you try to make it stop, you need to make it stop.

Ending the pain for the both of you, Wanda navigates her way through your fractured mind and eventually manages to get your body to fall unconscious, your body limp of the ground as the witch wipes the tears off of her cheeks, staring at the redhead opposite her who has curiosity written across her face.

"I don't know how long I can hold her," she says to the assassin, her magic still flowing around your head as she tries to keep you still.

"Can you hold her until we get back to the tower?" Natasha asks, making her way over to Steve who is still in agony on the ground. She slowly helps him to his feet, careful not to hurt him anymore while turning her gaze back to the witch.

"I think so," she says a little nervously, focusing on her magic.

"Good, let's get her on the jet, Fury's going to want to know what's happened." Everyone agrees with Natasha's plan, the magic encasing your entire body as you're lifted into the air, the redhead aiding the injured super soldier towards the jet.

What could possibly go wrong?

[oceanicpoetry]

Loki's arrival: official concept art (by Andy Park)

[taw-k]

While I definitely think the mind stone had a massive effect on Loki in the first Avengers film he definitely wasn't under full control, in fact I don't even think that's how the mind stone really works, definitely not like Clint and Selvig were.

What I think happened was Thanos tortured the hell out of Loki, and here's a silly little gorey through for you, forced him to battle other beasts, and if he won, his prize would be dinner... He would be forced to eat his fallen opponent.

Anyway, this took a toll on Loki until he finally broke, and that's where Thanos stepped in with the mind stone.

See, Thanos is evil, but he's not stupid, and he knows that loyalty born from respect and admiration is stronger than that of fear, that's why people die for their loved ones as he's probably seen countess times while invading planets. So he took Loki's broken mind and twisted it, the torture, the pain, the suffering, removed everything, his entire memory of being tortured, but he kept the loyalty. He filled Loki's mind with peace, promises, and purpose because that's all Loki's ever wanted, to belong, all thanks to the glorious Thanos.

That's what the mind stone does, it grants you peace, and a purpose, it makes everything... quiet... it doesn't make you do things for the wielder, it makes you want to do things. That's why Loki never spoke up about his experiences, he doesn't know where the mind stone stops and he starts, and he doesn't remember the torture.

Whenever you disobey the influence you experience something like withdrawal, a deep sense of panic and fear, of loss, of losing yourself and your purpose. This was severely amplified with Loki as he already suffers from intrusive thoughts, hallucinations (when he's having a really bad episode) and having no sense of identity (especially after Thor 1).

Then years later on the ship after Ragnarok Bruce Banner gets the sneaking feeling that Loki wasn't behind the attack. He questions Loki, asks him things like "don't you remember throwing Clint off a building?" or "don't you remember when you held Natasha hostage?" things that never happened and Loki just agrees because it was all a blur to him. That's how Bruce finds out about Thanos sending Loki.

[jasmines-library]

14 years

WHUMPTOBER DAY 16: Prompt: Experiment. Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Torn from your parents at a young age, you were experimented on. Your body and your mind were altered until you no longer recognised yourself in the mirror. During your time with HYDRA, your only solace came in the form of Bucky Barnes' voice on the other side of the wall. That was, until he left. Now, years later you have the chance to meet him again.

Warnings: Human Experimentation, pain, minor mentions of blood and gunshot wounds, brain surgery? kinda.

Word count: 2.2K

Note: I don’t own the art work in the header. This has not mention of skin colour despite the image on the right, I was using it for the cybernetics. My work is for everyone to enjoy :)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

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Darkness. It was all you had known since you were young and torn from your family’s arms. But that was years ago and you had long forgotten that touch could be tender. Since that fateful day, you lived in constant fear of the men who would drag you away from the little relief of sleep you got at night, although it consisted of curling up on a small mattress on the floor. You lived with the fear of waking up again and being forced through another day of poking and prodding in your mind. There was one voice that offered solace. You heard it drift through the vents many times, offering words of comfort. He had been there when you had arrived, soothing you of your nightmares when you woke up in a cold sweat. The voice would disappear for months at a time, until one day it never came back. Your blood ran cold whenever you began to think about what he had done. Part of you was certain that Hydra had done something to him - you knew he was defiant, and more stubborn than you, but all of you hoped that he had gotten himself out of this hellhole. Soon after his absence, without those gentle words drifting from the vents you began to feel less and began to gain control over your abilities. They had told you that emotions clouded your judgement and you had begun to listen without the defiance of your friend. But you supposed, that still wasn’t enough for them. You were never enough. 

As part of your daily routine, you were forced awake at the crack of dawn. This time it was a bucket of icy water. Spluttering, and sitting up abruptly, you groaned when you realised the situation. You hated water; it messed with your cybernetics if it got in the wrong places and wasn’t dried properly, and a malfunctioning cybernetic caused you extreme discomfort; migraines and sharp pains where the metal was connected to your body and to your brain. Sometimes, in extreme cases they could cause seizures or body shut down. One thing you were certain of was that although Hydra were technical geniuses, they had no care about the effects their experiments had on their patients as long as they functioned enough to benefit them. 

Dripping wet and shivering, you pushed yourself up onto your feet and were gripped harshly by the two guards. As they walked you forwards, your bare feet padded across the tiles. They were cold and bit at your skin. You were dragged through the corridors quickly and you tried to figure out where you were going, but everything looked the same in this facility; sickeningly pristine. When you saw the golden doorway, your chest constricted and you tried to push away, but they forced you into the room and towards the chair which sat in the centre of the square room. There were a number of unfamiliar faces dotted around the room, each tending to a laptop. It was the cart of tools next to the chair that caught you by surprise. It was lined with rows of screwdrivers and odd shaped instruments. 

Shoved down unsympathetically you fell into the chair, and the blinds closed seamlessly around your arms. You furrowed your brow when the halo of machinery that sat aloft didn't descend into your face to cause you more pain. Instead a man slid in front of you on a chair. He spoke to you about your cybernetics. You had one that ran around your right temple and down your cheek, it was the one that connected to your eyes and allowed extreme accuracy, as well as the ability to identify anyone in the database- and that was a whole lot of people. You had two more; one which made up the entirety of your knee- that one was accidental. You had sustained it after a gunshot to the knee on a mission. The second was your largest. It was from just above the nape of your neck and down your spine. Many of the nerves in your spine here had been replaced by cybernetics, allowing for complete motor precision and effortlessness when moving. It also ran directly into your brain, altering its pathways to create an advanced way of thinking. Supposedly, this one was a problem. The man told you that when they had created this cybernetic, they had allowed you to feel too much, and this compromised you in missions. They said it was how you ended up with the machinery in your knee. 

“You have to learn to comply.” The man told you bluntly. “And to do that, you must not let pests like the winter soldier interfere. He does not care about you, child. The only people who care about you are Hydra. Remember that. If you cannot learn that on your own then we must teach you a lesson.” 

He reached slowly towards the tools, picking up a screwdriver and a small hand held object that sparked. 

“No…No.” You shook your head. 

He only moved closer, swivelling on the chair until he was positioned behind you. Then, with one swift movement, he began to fiddle with the machinery in the back of your head. You shrieked as the pain shot through your head as the screws were removed, unsettling skin and bone, but then came the agony of the machine as it sparked away, allowing pieces of the cybernetic to be shifted or removed. You clenched your jaw, grinding your teeth together to try and bite away some of the pain. The man continued to work, inching deeper into your brain. It hurt; a thousand agonies at once all trailing through your body. Your muscles twitched as he worked around your brain, alternating your wavelengths and your feelings. Soon, your body began to feel numb. The stabbing dulled down into throbbing and shortly after, you felt nothing at all. 

~~~

Get in without being seen, take out the enemy, get the data, get out. That was the mission. A simple routine mission that hopefully didn’t require you to ambush your way out. You didn’t like to pull the trigger. It was messy and there was an odd feeling that twinged in your stomach when you watched the bodies drop to the floor like a sack of flour. You couldn’t place it, you just knew that it felt wrong. Especially when they were innocent people. They were usually innocent, your cybernetic told you that much. But your programing stated that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and would therefore compromise the mission and Hydra. 

Sometimes, your mind would think that what you were doing was wrong. Sometimes you stopped what you were doing completely as you fought to keep a grip on a sanity that seemed more natural to you, though wherever you disobeyed, you were strapped to that chair again and experimented with until they made progress in a way that could get you to comply without fault. 

You moved stealthily towards the door; it was heavy and made of metal. You could hear voices behind it, muffled by the thickness of the steel. You could place around three or four, and the sound of keyboards clattering away. 

Reaching into the pocket of your suit, you pulled out a small device. It was round and attached onto the electronic mechanism of the door. Stepping back, you allowed it to work, listening to it whirr away and raising your dual pistols. When the device let out a burst of electricity and the door flung open, a set of heads turned towards you. You saw their names flash across your vision. Names, aliases, records, articles, all sorts of information that you processed and stored within your brain in seconds. It was the dark haired man who’s name failed to show up on your database that made you frown. If he was an avenger, surely Hydra would have something on him. You contemplated for a split second, before remembering your objective. 

Before they had a chance to move, you had released a round or bullets into the room. Most, although accurately placed, ricocheted off of the trained soldiers armour or shields. One however found itself within the shoulder of a redheaded woman. Gunting in discomfort, she dropped, manoeuvring herself around the room to cut you off from the data. You tried to turn, only to collide with a tall blond. You ducked, rolling across the floor to escape his swing. You fired at him, but it was blocked by his circular shield. Turning to move, you came face to face with the woman again, blood dribbling from her shoulder. You backed away, trying to find a gap between the circle they had created around you. And that was when you realised you were trapped. Then, something blunt hit the back of your head.

~~

The first thing you noticed when you awoke was that you weren’t lying on the cold floor. Instead you were chained to a hospital bed by a tight cuff secured just above the hydra insignia they had messily branded into your skin. There were tiny sicker-like pads pressed to your temples, monitoring your brain activity. They made you feel like a child again; helpless with no control. 

 The man who wouldn’t show up on your database was watching you from afar, leaning against the doorway with his metal arm folded over his other. You could see the angry scarring around it under the top he was wearing. It was similar to the ones on your face and your spine. His dark hair fell in front of his eyes and he tilted his head, studying your movements. You tried searching the database again for him, assuming that in the action your cybernetic scanners had failed to pick anything up, but once again his profile came up blank. 

“Who are you?! You asked, furrowing your brow. Too many thoughts raced across your mind. If you were the enemy, why hadn’t they killed you?

The man frowned, inching hesitantly into the room. His moments were precarious as though he was trying not to frighten you. “You don’t remember me?”

That voice… you knew that voice. He had spoken to you before, a long, long time ago. 

“Bucky..?” You queried. There was a name you hadn’t heard in a while. A name you unknowingly had yearned for everyday since he left you.

He smiled at you gently. You weren’t sure how you had really pictured him from the other side of the wall, but you weren’t disappointed. He had this gentle look about him as he watched you, though hidden behind it was a haunted look that only someone who had seen the worst could have. “Yeah Doll. It’s me.”

“You left.”

“I know, doll. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave without you but I had no choice.”

You sighed. “Why am I here, Buck? Why didn’t they just shoot me when they had the chance.”

“Because, Barnes is one annoying man.” Another voice chimed in from the doorway. He was an older man with tired eyes. He had a small beard too which sat below the hair above his upper lip. “He thinks that we can help you, like we helped him. Although, I don’t know if you deserve that considering you broke into our home, shot one of our agents and tried to take all of our data. Nat should make a full recovery, by the way.” He added just to jest. 

“Stark-”

“You know I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to get torn apart and pit back together over and over and turned into some weapon. I didn’t ask to be one of their little toys.”

Tony pursed his lips. Hot tears streamed down your face as years of your life replayed on loop in your mind. This feeling was something so foreign to you. You didn’t know how to comprehend it. Bucky faltered as he watched your mind fight itself, as you fought between what felt right and what you were told was right.

“Fourteen years. Fourteen years of pain and loneliness. Fourteen years of my life that I will never get back because they were spent being forced to do things that I never asked to do.”

Tony pondered for a moment, gaze lingering on Bucky. He saw how tender he was with you. He knew that Barnes could sympathise with you better than anyone could. They had given him a chance, so why were you any different?

“Call T'Challa.Tell him we need his help.”

Bucky beamed. After quickly reassuring you that he would be back shortly after your protests, he began to make his way down the hall, with a skip in his step. He couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you were going to get help. They were going to remove your programming, and you would be stripped of the confinement that Hydra had wrapped tightly around you like a boa constrictor. He knew that it would take time and effort, pain and trust, but he was willing to stand beside you for it all because he knew that slowly but surely, you would realise that you were safe. Slowly but surely, you would become you again. 

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<- DAY 15 ⛤ DAY 17 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

Note: I was listening to the song 14 years but guns n roses whilst I wrote this :)

[dailymarvelstudios]

They weren’t wrong about this 

WANDAVISION EPISODE 6: ALL NEW HALLOWEEN SPOOKTACULAR! (2021) AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON (2015)

[tarnishedxknight]

Expert In Horror || open to mutuals

Noah didn't understand at all why the humes of this time period thought it was entertaining to watch other humes be hunted and killed by various mundane or supernatural assailants, but that appeared to be the case. He'd been convinced to sit and watch one of these visual oddities, called a horror movie, and he found it riddled with inconsistencies, holes, mistakes, and ignorant interpretations.

"That is not what it looks like when you stab a man in the throat," he said with utter nonchalance, pointing matter-of-factly at the TV, as if he was discussing apples. "Even so, there is no way he would still be capable of speech after such a wound. Shock would swiftly take him, and then the grave would." After a second, he looked over at those with him, an eyebrow rising. "What?" he asked, not understanding why they were staring at him so...

[aceofwhump]

Day 9: Alternate Prompt: Body Modification

Iron Man | Doctor Who 3x08 | Legends of Tomorrow 2x02 | Avengers: Endgame | Captain America: The Winter Soldier | Game of Thrones 3x03 | Doctor Who 4x18 | Emerald City 1x04

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[irondadfics]

Hello, thank you for this amazing blog!! I'm looking for a fic where Peter keeps playing pranks Tony and the Avengers, but one time Peter accidentally ends up chopping his finger/cutting himself and Tony thinks he's just playing another prank until one of the Avengers insists that he's not joking and Tony realizes that Peter actually hurt himself.

here you go

Trick or Treat (or Traumatize) by awesomesockes, whumphoarder

Peter is thrilled when he finally gets permission from Tony to throw a spooky celebration at the compound for the team. Unfortunately, wherever the Avengers are concerned, things never go quite to plan.  Or, in which Hulk destroys a mannequin factory, Tony gets sued by his boarding school childhood rival, and Peter accidentally chops off his own finger.  Happy Halloween!

[valarieravenhearst2]

Good While it Lasted

Very angst-ridden sequel from F#*king marry me. It was birthed after a very dark day listening to this song on a loop. Loki takes a self-destructive path of self-sabotage, breaking his love's heart all for a secret.

n/w - depressed Loki - dark Loki - angst - graphic heartbreak -mentions of mental health - graphic anxiety attacks - graphic description of violence/harm - sexual references / descriptions

will they forgive and forget?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

[avengerscompound]

Incredible Hulk (2023) #6

[radioblueheart]

The Toxic Avenger (1984)

Dir. Lloyd Kaufman (as Samuel Weil) and Michael Herz

[vertigoartgore]

Sentry by Olivier Coipel, Mark Morales & Laura Martin. From the cover of 2010's Siege Vol.1 #2.

[nobuverse]

@mysticallities said: Where Reines was teasing af when it came to OG Nobu, with Demon King however... "Hm~ good to have you back," a warm smile graces her lips as she looks at the other woman. She raises a hand and summons a pulsating orb with a pitch black aura and swings it over to the redhead. "Has your break enlightened you?"

Such a particularly strange girl she was. The Demon King would have thought it would take a soul decades of maturity for it to be able to hold such malice and indifference to the suffering around them. Reines was not naive and softhearted like girls her age should be; nor did she tremble before the exterminator of Gods. A strange abnormality among humans.

"Indeed." She began her response with a word of significant weight - spoken in a low tone that implied much more than it gave away. Her hand catches the orb given to her, nothing more than a child's toy in the hands of the avenger.

"Truth be told, I was debating on whether or not it'd be worth the effort to devour you. I don't make it a habit to be chained to the commands of any mortal"

She steps towards her master - one hand placing the orb she'd caught in her lap, the other delicately placing itself under Reine's chin.

"Those eyes especially - I'd considered plucking out for myself."

A soft hum of amusement passes through her lips before she retracts her hand.

"But they wouldn't be as beautiful without any light behind them. So I concluded they should stay where they are."

Anything else would be a waste.

[nokosapi]

[28/07/2021]

A traditional drawing of my OCs Akamaru and Aris, inspired in the song ''A Little Piece Of Heaven'' from Avenged Sevenfold

Someday I would love to make a short animation of this 🖤