bringing the war home
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Sharon Carter expected to pull a gun in the line of duty. She didn’t expect to pull it here. SHIELD was her holy ground.
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Some aunts take you to mass, but Sharon’s took her to the shooting range.
When Sharon finally met Captain Rogers, she was almost startled at his size. She’d read the comics, sure, but to Sharon, who had heard all the stories (and to Peggy, who had told them), Steve Rogers would always be 5’4” and breakable, had always been a hero.
Her mother had told her bedtime stories about Aunt Peggy saving the world. Her aunt had told her stories about a skinny kid who hated bullies, and a crew of wisecracking soldiers who followed his lead—about Steve and Bucky and all the Howling Commandos out to save the day and chase away each of Sharon’s nightmares.
Her father told her stories about talking elephants and singing mice who built treehouses together.
Sharon carried all of those with her, into the lies of pink nurses' scrubs and the chaos of SHIELD's fall, into everything that came afterwards.
But this came first.
(A Sharon Carter character study)
Series
- Part 1 of bringing the war home
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all things to all people all of the time by dirgewithoutmusic
Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
26 Apr 2014
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The Winter Soldier did not waste bullets, time, or death. Natasha told herself that and fingered her scar.
The Winter Soldier did not leave witnesses, but he had left her by that cliff outside of Odessa. Was Natasha an exception? Or did she not count as a witness? Had he looked at her and seen the same black button eyes reflected back at him, the on/off switch, the tick of clockwork?
Years later, Natasha watched the Soldier slam into the freeway concrete. The bullet holes in her abdomen had healed, and she knew this thing did not consider itself a person.
They were animate objects, both of them, useless in the witness stand. He hadn’t pulled the car transmission out, after all, hadn’t stripped the cell phone in the victim’s pocket, or shot up the rocks at the side of that road outside Odessa. He hadn’t shot her. He had left her there, breathing, and the Winter Soldier didn’t leave witnesses.
On cold nights, Natasha dreamed of ballerinas: porcelain, exquisite, their ribs jutting out stark under their skin.
(A Natasha Romanoff character focus)
Series
- Part 2 of bringing the war home
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that's my official statement by dirgewithoutmusic for Everbright
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
03 May 2014
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Maria knew better than to invest herself in the metal bones of this place. The helicarrier's engines roared like a thudding heart. The control room windows were vast. She stood at the helm there, at Fury's shoulder, in streaming daylight and in the peaceful dark of a moonless night pinpricked with stars somewhere high over the Atlantic.
The helicarrier rumbled under her feet and Fury ran a fond hand along one metal wall, like Coulson did with that car of his, the way Sharon stood in the Triskelion and nearly glowed.
Fury called it cancer once, after Loki’s attack was over, once Barton was back in the fold and New York saved. She kept in step behind him as Fury walked the helicarrier halls, reviewed the damage, as he mourned.
“No, sir,” she said. “Just war.”
(A Maria Hill character study)
Series
- Part 3 of bringing the war home
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on the verge of understanding something extraordinary by dirgewithoutmusic
Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
19 May 2014
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“Jane, you’re an astrophysicist, not a storm chaser,” said Erik Selvig, and he was wrong. She was just an astrophysicist too.
(A Jane Foster character study)
Series
- Part 4 of bringing the war home
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my heart has no place in this by dirgewithoutmusic
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types, Marvel (Movies), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
02 Jun 2014
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The years rolled on, as they always did. Sif had lived through so many now, centuries of war. She had been a child once, she remembered, dreaming of a warrior’s armor and a warrior’s title. They called her Lady Sif now, Guardian of Asgard, and gave deep nods to her in the streets.
Sif put on her armor in cold mornings and thought, "Once I wished for this." What did she wish for now?
No matter. She was tired. She was mourning. But she could imagine no life but this. Any other life would make her pale and fade. This one made her burn, iron at the heart of a flame, the heart of a star, and she could imagine no other way worth living.
(a character study of Lady Sif)
Series
- Part 5 of bringing the war home
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i am not dying for six college credits by dirgewithoutmusic
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
19 Jun 2014
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On a stormy desert night, a roaring giant of a man turned to Darcy Lewis and she tasered him in the chest.
She didn’t hesitate, wince, or apologize.
If you don’t want to get electrocuted by a 5’5” girl, don’t charge at her on a dark and stormy night. Dangerous things come in small packages.
You’d think Loki’s brother would know that—but, ah, yes, back then Thor still had a lot to learn.
(a character sketch of Darcy Lewis)
Series
- Part 6 of bringing the war home
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let the girl go by dirgewithoutmusic
Fandoms: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
18 Jul 2014
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The Cavalry once killed twenty men with a single pistol, they say.
Or maybe it was fifty.
The Cavalry once killed a hundred men, they say, on other days, around other campfires, these future agents of SHIELD, these gossipy children. On horseback, they tell the freshmen, and snicker. A hundred men.
The number trips off the tongue. The methods vary, the numbers, and they all trip off the tongue easily—what is twenty dead villains? A hundred? A good day's work. We're the heroes, after all.
Fifty, twenty, a hundred—they're all just syllables. All just sizes of victories, not a careful count of gasping faces.
The Cavalry killed twenty—fifty—a hundred men, and Melinda May saw the light go out of each of them.
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As a child, Melinda would steal the plastic lid off the kitchen trash can, mount it on one arm, and charge out into the backyard to save the world with her plastic shield.(a Melinda May character study)
Series
- Part 7 of bringing the war home
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i made a name for myself by dirgewithoutmusic
Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies)
15 May 2015
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The first thing Natasha had done after she hung up on Coulson, coming out of that warehouse, was call Laura Barton.
"Phil already called," Laura said without waiting for a hello. "Said Clint's compromised and he's sending some agents over." They had discovered years ago that it was good to cross-reference what Coulson told different people. He had some interesting ideas about what exactly "need to know" meant.
"That's all I know, too," said Natasha. "Except for me he called him Barton. When I have more, I'll call back."
"Stay safe, Nat."
Series
- Part 8 of bringing the war home
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Hope van Dyne was scared of heights from age seven onwards. The first time she had to get on a plane (age ten), she sat stony-faced, staring out the window, not looking at her father, the half-moons of her nails biting deep into her chubby palms. When she was thirteen years old, she asked her father for flying lessons.
That should have been her first hint, that when she asked for flying lessons for her birthday, he did not automatically realize this was about her mother.
But perhaps-- perhaps even if it had been true, the airplane crash, perhaps her father still would not have understood. He was not the kind of man who found the things he feared most, tracked them down, and then slew them with their own poison.
Series
- Part 9 of bringing the war home
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i can tell the difference by dirgewithoutmusic
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
08 Jun 2017
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Laura hadn't fallen for Clint first; she had been struck first, though. And, yes, she had heard all the possible jokes about Cupid and his arrows, thank you very much for your contribution.
But it was still true: she hadn't fallen first. Laura had been struck, first, curious about this boy—distracted, rumpled, so very human—and his perfect, perfect aim. You don't get perfect marksmanship by being born with it.
Gods are born, maybe, but Steve Rogers went to army drafting station after station. Tony woke up in a cave with a box of scraps and didn't just roll over and die. Sam pushed himself through basic, through pararescue training, and taught himself to fly. Little Natalia Romanova, after a childhood without choices, had taken SHIELD's offered employment papers and signed them Natasha.
Laura liked to pay attention to how people got to who they were.
And Clint—Laura sat forward the first time she saw him, this circus kid who gulped from a stained coffee cup before stumbling onstage and proceeding to take eighteen perfect shots, with three different bows, four of them without even looking.
Laura leaned forward. These things were not gifts.
Series
- Part 10 of bringing the war home
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This is a different style than the other entries of this series, but I think it has a place here anyway (and I'm too lazy to edit/rewrite it into this style :) ). This a drabble I wrote awhile back for the dark haired girl Bucky takes double dating with Steve to the Stark Expo in CAtFA, the one who looks so stunningly *delighted* about the explosions on stage.
Series
- Part 11 of bringing the war home
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everybody is afraid of something by dirgewithoutmusic
Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies)
16 Jul 2016
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In those last trials, there were five.
Roger wanted to be stronger and it was because he was afraid. Wanda could almost smell it on him. She said as much to Pietro and glared at him when he lit up. "Do not rile him up," she said. "I can tell you want to."
"It'd be so easy, though," Pietro said. "And I'm so bored."
"Read a book," she said.
Ana wanted to be a hero, "We deserve our own avengers," she said and Wanda liked her at once.
Dany was only there because his mom's hospice was expensive. They all wanted Dany to go home.
The serums, proddings, and pills took slowly until they didn't. One day Wanda woke up and she knew Pietro had had a nightmare. She woke up with the taste of Ana's toothpaste in her mouth, minty and overpowering. She spat into the sink, rinsed her mouth out. One day she woke up crying about Roger's grandmother, who had died at sixty-two, who had used to give him candies, who had taught him how to tie his shoes after his mother had declared him too dumb to learn.
Series
- Part 12 of bringing the war home
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i dreamed of a day by dirgewithoutmusic
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), infinity war - Fandom, Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
08 May 2018
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Gamora was falling.
The sky broke grey and vast above her. She twisted in the air, feeling in her every pocket and pouch for some sort of weapon-- a gun, a penknife, a plastic spork-- maybe if she died before she hit ground, it wouldn’t count.
Everything was gone. She scratched at her neck but her fingernails were short and blunt. Her throat was numb in the freezing air. She slammed at what should have been one of the most fragile parts of the body, but her esophagus and windpipe had been replaced with sturdier things long ago.
The wind was shrieking, and she was yelling, throwing all her breath away, but all the same she could hear them perfectly.
The red demon said, “You will regret it.”
“No,” Thanos said. She clawed at her throat and did not stop trying to die, all through the long fall.
He will, said a voice in her ear. Regret.
Gamora spat out against the wind, through her bruising throat and her fucking indestructible windpipe, “That’s one cold--”
“--comfort,” Gamora finished and the word echoed into the sudden silence.
No, not silence.
Gamora opened her eyes.
Series
- Part 13 of bringing the war home