Don't talk out loud
wintercyan:

toofargal:

"One day, I’m gonna be your partner in every mission!" 

My personal headcanon is that Rumlow joined HYDRA as an adult, but we know from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. that some HYDRA agents were recruited at a young age and raised to see HYDRA as their family, and we also know from the Earth 616 universe that the Winter Soldier was used to train young Red Room operatives.
So even though this scenario is not my headcanon, it still kind of is, you know? Not least because there’s something both amusing and sad about the Winter Soldier trying to figure out how to deal with some loud-mouthed kid who’s not a handler and not a target and not afraid of him, and who once gripped the Soldier’s metal hand—"I ain’t scared of thunderstorms, okay? You can’t tell anyone!" "Affirmative."—and told the Soldier he wouldn’t mind if the Soldier was his big brother.
And the Soldier gets to see him grow up, in brief flashes between years of cryo-sleep like a skipping film reel, grow quieter, his eyes harder, his smile meaner. The memories of nicknames given to him by the boy are taken from him by mind-wipes overseen by the man. The Soldier watches the man kill a target and recognises the brutal style of his close-combat technique, but doesn’t remember teaching the boy. The Soldier takes a bullet for the man, and the man beats him for it, tells him you don’t ever compromise your mission for anyone, get it. “Not even you?” the Soldier asks. The man is quiet. “I knew you,” the Soldier says. This time, it’s the man who gives the lab techs the order to wipe him. “Go deep,” the man says. “Clean him out.”
"Did I have a brother?" the Soldier asks, later.
"No," the man says. He is a stranger. He never touches the metal hand.
"Affirmative," the Soldier says, and doesn’t ask again.

wintercyan:

toofargal:

"One day, I’m gonna be your partner in every mission!" 

My personal headcanon is that Rumlow joined HYDRA as an adult, but we know from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. that some HYDRA agents were recruited at a young age and raised to see HYDRA as their family, and we also know from the Earth 616 universe that the Winter Soldier was used to train young Red Room operatives.

So even though this scenario is not my headcanon, it still kind of is, you know? Not least because there’s something both amusing and sad about the Winter Soldier trying to figure out how to deal with some loud-mouthed kid who’s not a handler and not a target and not afraid of him, and who once gripped the Soldier’s metal hand—"I ain’t scared of thunderstorms, okay? You can’t tell anyone!" "Affirmative."—and told the Soldier he wouldn’t mind if the Soldier was his big brother.

And the Soldier gets to see him grow up, in brief flashes between years of cryo-sleep like a skipping film reel, grow quieter, his eyes harder, his smile meaner. The memories of nicknames given to him by the boy are taken from him by mind-wipes overseen by the man. The Soldier watches the man kill a target and recognises the brutal style of his close-combat technique, but doesn’t remember teaching the boy. The Soldier takes a bullet for the man, and the man beats him for it, tells him you don’t ever compromise your mission for anyone, get it. “Not even you?” the Soldier asks. The man is quiet. “I knew you,” the Soldier says. This time, it’s the man who gives the lab techs the order to wipe him. “Go deep,” the man says. “Clean him out.”

"Did I have a brother?" the Soldier asks, later.

"No," the man says. He is a stranger. He never touches the metal hand.

"Affirmative," the Soldier says, and doesn’t ask again.

บัคกี้ยยยยยยยยยยยยย

บัคกี้ยยยยยยยยยยยยย

lostconner:

Little sun

lostconner:

Little sun

anaeolist:

i’m so fucking done with these two

anaeolist:

i’m so fucking done with these two

ixilecter:

That’s what he meant, right?

lostconner:

Anyhow I must tell the truth

Story by 小笼女王   Draw by me

umeko-sherlolly:

Detective in sheet.

axeeeee:

inspire a amazing fanfic To the left of Mercury

axeeeee:

inspire a amazing fanfic To the left of Mercury

mixed-bless-ing:

Even the death can’t do us part.

mixed-bless-ing:

Even the death can’t do us part.