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capkink2014-02-11 08:29 pm
capkinkmod) wrote in capkink2014-02-11 08:29 pm
Prompt Post 1
Remember to title your comments, use appropriate warnings (or "choose not to warn"), and be civil. Embeds are not allowed.
At least one of the characters in your prompt must have been in Captain America: The First Avenger or Captain America: The Winter Soldier.
As of May 3, 2014, the spoiler policy is no longer in effect.
Update, April 22, 2014:
For fills, please use the following format:
Fill: Title
Including the pairing, warnings/CNTW, and any other information after the fill and title in the subject line or in the first line of the comment.
Links:
Page A Mod
Fills
Discussion
Delicious Archive
At least one of the characters in your prompt must have been in Captain America: The First Avenger or Captain America: The Winter Soldier.
As of May 3, 2014, the spoiler policy is no longer in effect.
Update, April 22, 2014:
For fills, please use the following format:
Fill: Title
Including the pairing, warnings/CNTW, and any other information after the fill and title in the subject line or in the first line of the comment.
Links:
Page A Mod
Fills
Discussion
Delicious Archive
Fill: I'm Yours to the End of the Line (9/?)
(Anonymous) 2014-04-30 12:16 pm (UTC)(link)The words are kind, and the hands are kind too, but he is in the Chair and he is gasping and shaking as the Machine powers off. His mission and protocols and understanding of the world is a bright agony in his mind, all tangled up, and Their hands hurt where They stroke his skin, murmuring soft praise. It feels like a trail of fire, and it’s not right, not right, too much, and the Soldier is retreating from the pain before he has made a decision to do so.
There is shouting, a commotion. The Soldier stays where he is, crouched with his back to a wall, and does not understand. They drag away one of Them, Their body leaving a streak of red behind. Blood, the Soldier remembers. He has a sensation, of a soft warm splatter on his face, blood, and that’s not– that’s not right. There isn’t supposed to be sensation.
They have left him with it, as punishment. It is a kindness when They take the memory away, so it must be punishment if they do not.
Eventually, a man comes in. He is old, with white hair, wearing round glasses and walking with a wooden cane. The Soldier has a jolt, something, a sound he does not hear: Aren’t you just perfect?
“What is going on?” The man asks Them, and the Soldier realizes this man is in charge of Them. This man must be in charge of the Soldier too, then. He wonders if he has met the man – Sir? – before now, and was deemed unworthy and had the memory taken away. That would not have been kindness, the Soldier decides.
“He seems to be having a negative reaction to the conditioning sequence,” one of Them say. “The protocols for bringing him up after programming failed to illicit the positive response that it has previously.”
Sir approaches the Soldier. “Doctor Zola,” another of Them say sharply. “He’s unstable, please stay back.”
“You’re not unstable, are you, hm?” Sir says to him. “You just have no one to take you in hand. What happened?”
The Soldier opens his mouth to answer and realizes he has no answer. The panic rises sharply, because he has to respond when addressed directly, but he doesn’t understand.
It is a single motion that has Sir gripping the neck of his cane and bringing the handle down across his face. The blow knocks something loose in the Soldier’s brain that eases the panic. Sir is here. Sir will take care of it.
“Report,” Sir demands. “What happened?”
“It hurt,” the Soldier tells him, tilting his head back to look up at Sir’s face. “I made it stop.”
There is a sudden stillness to the room. It lasts for only a moment, and then there is a flurry of harsh whispers, each on top of the other.
“-positive reaction to blunt pain-”
“-only recorded data of their interactions is the petting-”
“-made him hypersensitive? That’s not supposed-”
“-single authority figure is something we should-”
Sir is smiling at him, which makes the Soldier happy. “The machine hurts when you’re in it, does it not?” Sir asks.
“Yes Sir.”
“You do not try to make that stop.”
“No Sir.”
“On your knees. Why not?” The Soldier shifts forward slightly onto his knees, and doesn’t look away from Sir’s face.
“It’s supposed to hurt.”
Sir makes a thoughtful sound, staring down at him. “It figures the Captain would want someone who did not bow his head.” The Soldier has a thought, maybe, a flash of sense memory; a shout and falling, screaming, the howling of the wind as it rushes past. “When I hit you, how did it feel?”
“It put things right,” he says, though he has no idea what that means.
“Very good,” Sir tells him, and turns away without another look. “You will have to wipe him and prep him again,” Sir tells Them. “Incorporate this information into his response protocols and conditioning.”
They put him back into the Machine. He has learned not to beg.
Just want to thank all of you who reviewed, especially OP. This is not over yet, but I literally have finals next week and three papers to do, so the next part might be delayed a little. Thank you again!
Re: Fill: I'm Yours to the End of the Line (9/?)
(Anonymous) 2014-05-05 05:34 am (UTC)(link)