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p-taryn-dactyl · 1 year

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Fail-Safe (2)

a/n: hi!! I'm so sorry for the wait, life hasn't been the nicest recently lol. I hope this ok!!

tag list: @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandaromamoff69 @tintedrose12 @m-12344

word count: 1.4k

prompt: Dreykov always had a back up plan, a fail safe, in case his empire fell. You grew up with Yelena and Natasha in the Red Room. But unlike your sisters, who became an Avenger or the greatest child assassin respectively, Dreykov had a different purpose for you. Now that he was gone, you were released from your cage - to hunt down the ones responsible for the death of the Red Room.

pairing(s): yelena belova x dark!sister!reader; kate bishop x dark!reader (not romantic); antonia dreykov x dark!reader

warning(s)/notes: mentions of murder; experimentations; Dreykov being a crap individual; mentions of AoS plot lines; crappy writing; Y/N shows emotions briefly and hates it, does not recommend

Laura laughed out loud at the face you made once trying your latte, a free one you had received once being the one hundredth customer of the week. She covered her mouth with her hand as you glared at the offensive beverage, your guard lowered for a second. Clearing your throat, you pushed the drink away from you on the table and leveled your gaze on Laura, your objective once more ringing through your mind. You took on an inquisitive expression, feigning the appearance of something stalling in your mind. You picked up the coffee Barton’s wife had bought you, not the disgusting one you wanted to throw out the window, and took a sip before asking a question.

“Barton, Barton - why does that name sound familiar?” You made sure to keep your voice lowered, as to not get the attention of the other patrons in the cafe, and to give Laura a false sense of security. The woman smiled softly, taking a drink of her own coffee before answering.

“Probably from my husband, he’s a bit popular around this city.”

You let your eyes widen, brighten at her words. You snapped before pointing at her excitedly.

“Hawkeye! I wish I could’ve seen the battle of New York, I’ve heard it was a spectacle.”

Laura smiled at the child like excitement in your voice. Truth be told, you didn’t have to feign the emotion in your tone, some part of you truly wished you could’ve seen your sis- the Avengers in action. Laura’s phone beeped and she opened her message, looking at you with an apologetic look.

“My daughter,” she explained, waving her phone in the air, “something to do with a school project. Can we exchange numbers? I would love to continue this sometime.”

Something blossomed in your chest at the warmth in her tone but you were quick to squash it. With a quirk of your lips, you wrote your number down on a napkin, handing it to Laura. The woman nodded in thanks before waving back to you and walking away. You waited a few moments before getting up, taking the offensive coffee and marching over to the barista, who looked at you with false happiness.

“Hello ma’am, how may I-” he didn’t get to finish his words, as you focused on the gravitational pulls around his throat. You watched as his face turned red, his hands grasping at his neck, clawing at the skin. Calmly, you set the latte down on the counter and watched in amusement as the barista fell to the ground. Adjusting your jacket, you spun around, a panicked look on your face.

“Someone call an ambulance!”

Soon there was a crowd of people surrounding the barista, voices rising through the air as someone tried to get a hold of 911. You meandered away, your footsteps light as you made your way down the sidewalks of New York City.

“Sir, I wouldn’t recommend using her just yet - our other test subjects have been destroyed by the mere pressure this element puts on their bodies-”

Dreykov raised a hand to stop the scientist, his eyes trained on you as you sat curled up in a corner. You were shaking, pain still coursing through your body days after the last experiment, where your bones were covered in an indestructible substance. But that’s not what haunted your mind, not the burning of your bones or the heaviness that laced your body. No, what haunted you was the look on Yelena’s face before she was knocked out. She looked shocked to see you, shocked to see what Dreykov was doing but not…concerned. She looked like she didn’t care, like you didn’t matter.

Natasha was always the favorite sister.

Dreykov motioned for you and with heavy movements you stood up, making your way to the man. The scientist watched you with an apology in her eyes. You didn’t know what that meant. You were led down a hallway, Dreykov’s hand on your back - guiding you. Once inside a heavily armored room, Dreykov led you to a small chamber. You eyed the vials of levitating darkness with contempt, not wanting to feel anymore pain.

“Now, my georgin, this will only last a moment, then you will taste power only the strongest of men have feasted upon,” Dreykov paused, watching as the contempt into your eyes faded away, still lingering with fear but now drowning in a thirst that was reflected in his own. He raised a hand to move your chin so you were looking at him.

“The…others who were gifted with this opportunity were weak, they crumbled under the weight of what was expected. They disappointed me. But, you won’t, will you, my rising feniks?”

You set your chin, determination flooding your veins. The weighted material coating your skeleton felt lighter, no more holding you down but fueling your strength as you made your way into the chamber. As the door shut, you held back a hiss at the pinpricks of pain on your arms and legs from the needles. You saw Dreykov watching you, then you watched as he nodded to the scientist in your peripheral vision, and you closed your eyes. Focusing your breath, you steadied your heart, desperate not to show weakness. When the vials emptied into your system, you almost bit your tongue off with the force of your teeth.

But you didn’t scream.

Oh no, you didn’t scream.

After a few moments, the pain disappeared, melting away as energy surged through you, whispers flooding your mind. It felt…empowering.

It started with a chuckle, a mere movement of your shoulders in amusement, then it grew into a roar of laughter bursting from your lips.

If this was the price of pain, you would thrive in its riches.

The street was crowded with bystanders, all panicking with the sight before them. Pushing through the crowd, Yelena felt her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

It was you, she knew it was.

The description that Kate and Clint had given her of the victim’s body only further proved her thoughts to be true. A young man with a crushed throat but no signs of force on his skin. His eyes popping out of the sockets with the amount of force used to destroy his airway, his face a disturbing gray while the rest of his body an unnerving natural shade.

The two archers opted to stay behind at Kate’s apartment, hoping to find a way to track you down. But Yelena knew there was only one true way to catch you, someone who was equally as close to Dreykov as you once were. Someone, who could hopefully win in a fight against you, even with all your advantages. Yelena made it to the front of the crowd, where she saw the EMTs load the body into a truck, the police keeping everyone back as their CSI desperately searched the scene for any evidence.

“They’re not going to find anything,” a voice rang out next to Yelena, accented and rough, “Even if she didn’t have her powers, it’s what we’re taught- to not leave a trace.”

Yelena turned toward the other woman, nodding her chin in greeting. Antonia, once known as Taskmaster, nodded her own in return. She set her gaze towards the ambulance, ignoring the stares from others at her burn marks.

“This is her second, da?”

Yelena nodded, sighing as she rubbed her brow with her hand, curling it into a fist in frustration.

“She’s playing with me, Antonia, leaving a note at Lana’s house, walking around the city, hiding in plain sight. It’s exhausting.”

Antonia shrugged, a humorless smirk pulling on the edges of her lips.

“I wouldn’t take it personally. You and Natasha killed my father and now that Natasha is out of the equation, you’re the only loose string left- excluding your parents.”

Yelena turned her full attention to Antonia, question in her eyes. Antonia sighed, turning her body to face Yelena.

“Y/N is Dreykov’s fail-safe, Yelena, his avenger. You killed him, you’re her target. This,” she waved a hand towards the crime scene, “is just fun and games for her, none of it matters. This ends with your blood staining her hands. It’s what she’s programmed to do.”

Yelena swallowed, sharp pains tugging at her heart. She lost one sister to sacrifice and one to the exploits of a mad man.

At least one could be easily saved.

“Well then,” Yelena faked a smile, looking Antonia dead in the eyes, “we have our work cut out for us then. I’ll call the archers and you go get your suit.”

Yelena watched as the ambulance drove away.

“It’s time to start playing her game.”

a/n: hi!! I hope this was worth the long wait lol...thank you for reading!!

#yelena belova #yelena belova x sister!reader #yelena x reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x platonic!reader #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x fem!reader #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #antonia dreykov #antonia dreykov x reader #black widow x you #black widow #villain!reader

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lexnierg · 1 month

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imo, the biggest changes between the comics and the Black Widow Movie (talking about characters)

(Dreykov dowsn't stand a chance against the headmistress.)

(I already talked about how they should've used Anya)

#marvel #black widow #marvel comics #mcu #natasha romanoff #black widow comic #marvel rant #headmistress anya #anya #antonia dreykov #marvel dreykov #marvel red room #the red room #red room #marvel cinematic universe

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gorillageek27 · 11 months

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Thunderbolts gonna be just everyone making Bucky's job unnecessarily harder while bucky cries yelling

" WHY ARE YOU PEOPLE LIKE THIS!?"

#marvel #mcu #thunderbolts #bucky barnes #ava starr #ghost #john walker #us agent #yelena belova #alexei shostakov #red guardian #antonia dreykov #taskmaster

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yelenaslightchangeofplan · 10 months

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uh oh reneé rapp's snow angel fits the black widow women a little tooooo perfectly

#black widow #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #melina vostokoff #antonia dreykov #renee rapp #snow angel #scarlett johansson #florence pugh #rachel weisz #olga kurylenko

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captainpikeachu · 2 years

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Okay so this prevailing sentiment that I keep seeing about how “this doesn’t make sense why would Bucky be with a team of bad guys” really kinda annoys because...most of the MCU Thunderbolts team members aren’t even bad guys???

Ghost, Taskmaster, and Yelena literally all share similar kinds of backstories to Bucky, they are all victims of a system that either mind controlled them or forced them into doing horrible things. They’ve all broken free and are trying to make their own choices and trying to recover and get better in their own ways.

Alexei is literally just a chaotic man being chaotic, and the last we saw of him, he was part of the protagonist team of the Black Widow film. Hardly any sense of being a “bad guy”, just a big dork guy who really wants to punch some folks and admittedly trying and sometimes failing at being a dad.

And as much as folks want Walker to be a bad guy, even the Falcon and the Winter Soldier show didn’t bother making him the villain of the story, instead head writer Malcolm Spellman even stated that Walker and Bucky are two sides of a veteran’s story, and the last time we saw of Walker, he was actually trying to save hostages and helping Sam and Bucky, with him and Bucky even working together.

The only person with remotely a whiff of possible “bad guy” is Val, and we don’t really even know enough about her to say if she’s actually doing bad things because she’s evil or if she’s just like a Nick Fury who sometimes do shady things for what she thinks are the greater good.

Sure, many of these characters have served antagonistic roles in the stories they appeared in, but being an antagonist does not equal to being a “bad guy” or being the villain. Protagonist doesn’t mean Hero, and Antagonist doesn’t mean Villain, and sometimes I fear that fandom spends so much time trying to shove characters into boxes and ends up losing sight of the characters’ complexities.

The Thunderbolts are not just a “team of bad guys”, even in their decades of comics history, this team line up has run across all ends of the spectrum with Bucky being a member of this team at various points. The most recent new comics run is even a team of heroes led by Clint Barton himself.

And if one really takes a good look at this currently known line up of the MCU Thunderbolts team, with the exception of Val whose backstory is shrounded in mystery right now, these are all characters who’ve had trauma, who’ve been through a lot, who are soldiers and warriors who’ve all fought for what they thought was right. Sure their moralities can be a bit skewed, but they aren’t just people who go around killing people for no reason and just enjoying being bad for the sake of being bad. This is a team of broken traumatized messed up chaotic warriors seeking for another chance to prove themselves, for redemption, and is that not the kind of people whom Bucky would share commonality with? Is that not the kind of people that he might be able to help, to provide guidance and advice to? He’s walked their path, he of all people knows what it takes to make a recovery stick.

What better way to continue his journey from the ending of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier than to make him the “mentor” of a group of people each trying to seek their own redemption in their own way? Wouldn’t it be character growth for Bucky to go from the learner to now the teacher?

Honestly I think Thunderbolts director Jake Schreier said it best:

I just think The Thunderbolts are an exciting opportunity to take these characters that have been seen in a certain light and kinda bring them together, and through coming together, possibly view them in another light.

So many of these characters on the team, we all have a way of seeing them through our various biases and perspectives, and this film might actually teach us all to let go of certain biases and see these characters in a new way through their perspectives.

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incorrectquotesmcu · 1 year

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Valentina: Where is everybody?

Ava: Antonia had a nervous collapse, Yelena is looking after her, Alexei went back to bed, Barnes is trying to kill Walker, and I’m in charge.

Valentina: Oh my god.

Ava: I know, right?

#source: tumblr #valentina allegra de fontaine #valentina incorrect quotes #ava starr #ava starr incorrect quotes #antonia dreykov #yelena belova #alexei shostakov #bucky barnes #john walker #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel

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evilwinterfruit · 7 months

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By popular demand and in honor of the WGA deal, have a new text post.

#bucky barnes #yelena belova #valentina allegra de fontaine #ava starr #alexei shostakov #antonia dreykov #taskmaster #red guardian #black widow #us agent #john walker #thunderbolts #mine

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abarbaricyalp · 8 months

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Things To Crawl Home To

I have been trying to post this on AO3 since last night and keep getting errors, so tumblr is getting it first. I have been working on this since literally as soon as I walked out of the movie theater after seeing black widow. I actually thought I wouldn't finish it/post it. It's not as polished and deep as I wanted it (waited too long to really get into it) But every single thing I see about Thunderbolts makes me want to pick up my toys and go home so I figured I should post it before that movie ruins these characters I love and lets writers who don't care about them turn them into comedic caricatures. Lerato is the Widow who is always with Taskmaster. She's the one who tells her to smile in the first scene and who helps her in the last. Literally do not pay attention to the timeline. Roughly set in 2023/24 but genuinely do not think about it

Antonia barely registered Lerato rubbing her forearm. Her eyes were focused on the heavy door in front of her. She got the basic idea of it. Safety. Privacy. All of that stuff she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of since 2016. Not really. But for the fact that she’d be shutting that door behind herself, trapping herself inside with the man beyond it, she was even less fond of how thick and soundproof it was.

“It’s going to be fine,” Lerato said, bringing her hands up to either side of Antonia’s face. As always, she didn’t hesitate to press her palms to the scars. As always, Antonia was shocked. She tilted the smooth side of her face into Lerato’s hand and closed her eyes.

“I know. I’ve read his files. He is...reformed.”

“Just like you,” Lerato said, not for the first time. But Antonia wasn’t sure. She’d seen what they’d done to him. She’d seen him in action. It was different. It wasn’t just a gas and some sparkles that had cured him. He had trigger words. How the hell did someone take that out of a person’s brain?

“He wanted to see you,” Lerato reminded her. “He wants to help.”

“Or he wants to trap me somewhere.”

Lerato smiled wryly. “Then I’ll kick his ass. But I think he’s even more tired than you are. He’s not looking for a fight. Besides,” she smoothed her thumb over the cheekbone with the scars fondly, “Captain America’s in there with him right now. He can’t be that bad of a guy.”

“He is the Winter Soldier.”

“And you’re the Taskmaster. You’re both badasses. It’ll be okay.”

And Antonia knew that, and really did believe it. It was just easy to get swept up in anxieties and what-ifs now that she had the time and freedom to do so. As the Taskmaster, there was no time for hesitation or thought. Every movement was programmed into her. She’d never experience the curdling curl of anxiety in her gut before Romanoff deprogrammed everyone. She’d thought she’d been dying the first time it had happened. It had happened so often since, though, that she was very familiar with its fiery pain.

Lerato reached for the door and pulled it open before Antonia could find another argument to stall her hand. If they were different women, perhaps she could have curled her arms around Lerato’s waist, backed her up against the sturdy but plain walls, kissed her until they were both breathless and laughing, until the thought of the point of this evening was forgotten in lieu of getting back to their own apartment as quickly as possible. But they were not those kind of women, hadn’t been afforded that life and didn’t take it now that they had the opportunity. Though, the longer they spent in the real world and the more Antonia got to kiss and love Lerato in private, the more she thought she absolutely could become that woman.

She tore her eyes away from the soft spot behind Lerato’s ear, where she’d shiver like a north wind had blown through their room if Antonia kissed it, and through the yawning maw of the door. The apartment on the other side was comfortable, if sparse. A safe house, not a home. The Winter Soldier fidgeted behind the cream couch in the middle of the room and a handsome black man stood in front of him, holding a hand to his metal shoulder, thumb moving over where Antonia knew the prosthetic began.

Funny, she thought, of all the things she and the Soldier had in common, she hadn’t imagined being grounded by touch on scars would’ve been one of them.

The handsome black man--the Falcon, Captain America, Sam Wilson--looked over at her and Lerato and smiled genuinely. Antonia wondered where he found the energy to be so earnest all the time. She had watched film of him, but he was impossible to copy without wings of her own and the Red Room had never figured out how to replicate them. Flight was so engrained in him that he was entirely his own brand of hero, one even the Taskmaster couldn’t imitate.

“Behave,” Sam Wilson said and pressed the flat of his hand to the Soldier’s cheek in what could’ve been a sort of genial, male way if it hadn’t been so gentle. “Make friends.”

“You make friends,” the Soldier snapped back.

It was such a childish remark, it caught Antonia off guard. And Lerato too apparently, because she burst out in snickers. She’d almost contained them after a few seconds, but then the Soldier shot a grin over at her and she started all over again.

Logically, Antonia knew much had changed for the Soldier since his days with the Red Room. She still had not expected this. He was charming.

On film, the Soldier was horrifying. Efficient and cold and uncaring. Calculating and mechanical. She had watched days, weeks, months of film of the Soldier. He was the ideal killing machine. So much of the Taskmaster seemed to be built out of the Winter Soldier and the time the Red Room had had access to him.

Then he’d broken his conditioning. The Soldier had a physical form of conditioning, she knew that. Like the Red Room of days past. Cognitive rehabilitation. Electroshocks. A literal rewiring of the hardware. Then he’d gone off the grid in 2014. No new videos to watch until the UN and the ensuing chaos in 2016. She’d known from the first video in the news that the man responsible for the UN bombing was not the Winter Soldier. Everything about the deep fake was wrong.

The Soldier did not appear in many films afterwards. A few recordings from the airport in Germany and that was it before Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belenova destroyed the Red Room and the Widows’ programming. Her own programming.

She’d seen videos of him in the past few months. Still powerful, still calculating. But with so much more heart. He pulled his punches now. Took hits he didn’t need to to spare an unnecessary death count. It didn’t really make him any less efficient and she wasn’t sure anyone else would notice.

She supposed that heart and compassion, hidden as it was, should’ve been a clue towards the man standing before her in ridiculous combat boots, jeans, and a henley that looked to be about two sizes too small. She didn’t know why she expected him to be dressed for a fight. She hadn’t even come dressed for a fight.

(Well, there were a few holsters here and there, but she suspected the Soldier had his fair share of concealed weapons on him too)

His hair was still cut. She’d seen it in the videos that had surfaced after he and Captain America had dealt with the Flagsmashers, but it was jarring to see it in real life. He looked human again. Touchable, even if she knew better. She wondered if any of the severity had been removed from her own body. If someone saw her on the street and wouldn’t flinch away.

Lerato and Sam Wilson walked out of the room at the same time, Wilson pausing to let Lerato go first. His last look towards Barnes kept him from noticing the one Lerato and Antonia shared. The door closed behind them with a gentle click. The kind that came from a door designed to close softly being guided still by a hand that knew it. Barnes didn’t like loud noises.

The openness and boyish charm he’d just had with Sam Wilson in the room cooled off significantly as soon as the other man wasn’t around. Atonia felt her shoulders shrug in closer to her ears, arms pinching into her ribs.

“You know,” she eventually offered when Barnes had a few non-starters. “I thought you might’ve left a real calling card, being so old fashioned. A text seemed so modern.”

Finally, the anxious blanket he’d been pulling over his head fell away. He couldn’t fight down a grin and he looked up at her through his lashes, as boyish as ever. Antonia wondered if the Winter Soldier had ever been able to utilize this side of Barnes. Certainly never on camera, but other times, perhaps.

“Text messaging is so much faster than carrier pigeon,” he explained. “And I’ve grappled with enough Widows to know that I probably shouldn’t try to leave a card on their kitchen table.”

Antonia nodded, felt a warring of emotion in her chest at the thought of Natasha Romanoff. She knew Barnes knew Yelena as well, but she knew there was far more history between Barnes and Natasha. If he mentioned a Widow, he was likely talking about Natasha. “Why did you ask to meet me?” she asked.

“Because I’ve been where you are.” He seemed to gear up for a long monologue but then blanched suddenly. “Do you want to sit? Can I get you a drink? Sam made sure we have about every beverage you could ask for in the fridge.”

Antonia sat in a wingback reading chair nearest where she was standing. “I’m okay, thank you. Maybe later, if this takes long.”

Barnes’ mouth twisted in a fun, if deprecating, smirk. “I didn’t use to be long winded. Now, I can’t make any promises.”

Antonia was still learning to give herself space to use words. Measuring out each sentence. Filling in gaps. Taking up time.

This thought was not written on her face because her thoughts never were but Barnes must have recognized something in her hesitation to respond because he said, “Do you still feel like you’re wearing the mask sometimes?”

“Did you?” she asked without answering.

“I still do,” Barnes said simply. “But it’s never been real. Not one time since I got out.”

Antonia took a long breath and then nodded. “I know. That doesn’t make it any easier to ignore.”

Barnes sat down on the couch, though he was leaning so far forward he was practically halfway across the room. “I asked you to come here because I thought maybe talking about some of that might help. HYDRA and the Red Room evidently stole from each other all the time because we were eerily similar.”

“You worked with the Red Room,” Antonia pointed out.

Barnes inclined his head and let out a steady breath. “I did. I was a test for the Widows. One of the last ones.”

“You killed some.”

“Another thing we have in common.”

Antonia let the fact sting her straight through to the soul and back out the other side of her ribs. But she kept herself still. “And you’re an asshole.”

“Something we don’t have in common,” Barnes conceded. “What was the first thing you chose for yourself?”

Antonia thought about the chaos that proceeded Natasha’s destruction of the Red Room. Natasha had disappeared in the smoke, but Yelena had stayed, ushered everyone onto a jet and taken them to a safe house. She remembered the way the Widows had looked at her, cramped together in a confused mass. That first night, she’d still felt like an escaped animal. Lerato was the only person to come near her. Antonia had waited behind everyone else, hadn’t asked for extra or even minimum when supplies were being rationed out.

“I put on pajamas,” she said. “Soft shorts and a long-sleeve thermal top. I had never worn anything like that before. And I chose to stay in the same room as Lerato. We made a nest of blankets on the floor even though there were beds.”

“And how’s it felt to keep making decisions?”

“Overwhelming. I sometimes forget to. I expect people to make them for me until I remember that I do that now.” Just the other day, she had gone to make lunch and found the fridge nearly bare. Grocery shopping was proving particularly difficult to get the hang of.

Barnes nodded his understanding. “When I got out, I was immediately on my own. I didn’t know what to do or how best to do it. I wasted a lot of time trying to strategize as soon as I was safe enough to.”

“How did you get over it?” Because at this point, Antonia wasn’t sure she could ever relax the muscles coiled in her whole body.

“I got comfortable,” Barnes answered with a shrug. “I know that feels impossible. Hell, I thought it was too. But one day I realized the coffeeshop knew my order and the fish market remembered my name. Well, my alias, anyway. I closed my eyes in the shower. It just…became easier.”

“It just happened?” Antonia asked with a frown. That didn’t seem right. Everything else had been such a fight. But…she had fallen asleep with her head on Lerato’s shoulder while they watched TV a few nights ago and the sound of the elevator dinging didn’t make her jump anymore and she almost trusted herself enough to open the door for packages.

“You have to let it happen, but, yes,” Barnes agreed.

Antonia still did not fully believe it. It was one thing to be safe and comfortable around Lerato. It was another thing to feel it out in the world. She sat back in the seat, tried to make herself relax. Barnes was relaxed. She’d seen the way he tended to sprawl across whatever seat he was sat on. He always seemed to be in such easy control. The Taskmaster had been like that too. Not that the Taskmaster was ever allowed to sit, but the easy control part was familiar. Maybe it was the boots. She should do like Barnes and start wearing combat boots again.

“When did you decide to get back into the fight?” she asked. “How did you get comfortable with that?” Yelena was working again. Other heroes had filled in the blank spots left by the ‘originals.’ Other villains had appeared too. Antonia was…capable. She should be doing what she could to help. But the thought made her want to be sick every time it even flitted a little close to her mind.

Barnes’ mouth twisted a little. “I don’t think I really am that comfortable with it still. But I trust myself. There were a lot of people who helped me get there again.”

“The trigger words,” she interrupted and then flinched in expectation of the outburst from him.

But Barnes didn’t explode. He just nodded a little. “Yes. I suppose you have probably heard about the Sokovia Accords and the fight that followed. That was the first time I fought again, the first time I had to use…the more violent of my skills. Afterwards, when it was over and we were safe–on the run, but safe–I asked someone a lot smarter than me to undo my conditioning.”

“How?” Antonia pressed. “How did it happen? How were you sure?”

“I wasn’t,” Barnes admitted. “It was a long process. It involved me going back on the ice, a stasis. She was able to isolate neural pathways or something. Reroute them. Break connections. We went through round after round of that. Lots of monitoring. Lots of training. And one night, a friend took me far from everyone else and said all the trigger words and…nothing happened.”

Antonia looked down to her hands. She was still getting used to seeing her body instead of gloves and sleeves and weapons. She counted scars when she needed to think or when her thoughts were getting too far ahead of her. Today, even that distraction was failing her. She couldn’t keep her numbers straight.

“I’m worried the machine is still out there,” she admitted quietly. The port in the back of her head had been carefully removed, so even if the machine was found or recreated, no one could ever plug her back in, like she was some robot. But the anxiety persisted. She woke up in a cold sweat more nights than not with the phantom sensation of orders flooding into her body. “I don't ever want to do what someone else tells me to again.”

“I know,” Barnes agreed. “I can’t promise you that you won’t have to. I don’t know what your future holds. But I know if you keep yourself surrounded by people who care about you, as scary as that is, you’re going to be a lot safer than if you isolate yourself.”

Antonia considered that. This was something she supposed she knew and had partially accepted. There were not many people in her corner. Lerato primarily. But Yelena was around. A friend-not-friend of Yelena’s as well. Occasionally some of the other Widows appeared, seeking shelter or company. She would not consider them confidants, but perhaps one day.

“Hey, you and your friend are just kids,” Barnes added. “You don’t have to start the fight again if you don’t want to.”

Antonia grimaced. “There are those who are younger. I was younger and Lerato even younger than me.” And they needed help. Others had tried to step in, to find all the operatives out in the world, but it was slow going and Antonia wasn’t sure who was still working on it. Lerato wanted to. Antonia knew she did, which fueled her as much as it terrified her.

“Do you worry you rely too much on him? On Captain America?” she asked quietly. She wasn’t demure; that kind of trait hadn’t come with her freedom and anxiety. She didn’t look up at him from under her lashes. But her glances were quick and shallow. Like he might see too much if she kept her eyes on him.

Barnes let out some kind of huff. She heard him sit back in the couch. “All the time,” he admitted. “I tried to stay away once, after the Battle of Earth and all of that. It didn’t work out well for us.”

“Yes, I can tell,” she agreed and let him scoff out a laugh.

“Sam and I are partners,” he said. “All the way through. Partners need to be able to lean on each other. If he can’t trust me to ask him for help, that’s a core foundation block that’s going to send the rest of our relationship tumbling down. Imagine if I didn’t tell him I’d been hurt in a fight and just passed out before I could get to a rendezvous or I wasn’t there to have his back. It’s no different for…emotional things.”

Even with his very eloquent words, it sounded like he was having to wrench each thought out of his chest. So Antonia was pretty sure this was something he still struggled with. And if he, who was so put-back-together and had such a strong partner, could struggle with it, what hope was there for her?

“Your friend…Lerato, right?” Barnes offered. “I’m sure she wants to be there for you. And I’m sure you’re there for her too. You both need both sides of that relationship. I promise you, you need both sides.”

“And the nightmares?” she asked. For a brief moment, her throat almost closed fully, but there was a sudden rush of heat through her body that had her voice keeping steady, getting a little louder. These moments had been happening more and more recently. Lerato said it was called a personality, which always made Antonia roll her eyes. But it was kind of a nice thought.

Barnes sighed. “I can’t tell you anything about those. If you figure it out, you’ll have to track me down and let me know.”

Antonia mimicked his sigh and, judging by the way his eyes narrowed a little in amusement, he caught on that she’d done so on purpose. She sat back in the chair, keeping her shoulders back, jaw tilted a little. The amusement on Barnes’ face lit up further. “Do you follow orders?”

He shrugged. “Depends on who’s giving them and why.”

“And you’re comfortable enough to trust yourself making those decisions?”

“Well, usually it’s Sam telling me what to do, so that’s not so bad. And when other people do it…yeah, I’m pretty comfortable making decisions for myself.”

Antonia considered this. “And you have your own life the rest of the time?”

“I do,” he agreed. “Which helps me with the other shit. Something to hold onto.”

The thought was tantalizing. Antonia wasn’t foolish. There was no room in her life to be. She knew eventually someone would hand her that damn mask again and point her to a fight. But Barnes was right. There was more freedom here. She could dig her heels in now. She could turn around and walk the other way. No one was programming her anymore.

She stood, all on her own volition, and offered her hand out to Barnes. If he was surprised, he hid it well. He stood as well and shook her hand.

“Listen, I’m always around, okay? I’m no therapist and I’m definitely not Sam, but I know I wish I’d had someone who went through the shit I did, alright? Maybe I’ll have an answer or commiseration.”

Antonia nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. This was…helpful.”

Barnes snorted and waved his hand in a sort of ‘lay it on me’ kind of way. But Antonia had nothing else to add. “Hey, I’m also around for sparring, yeah?” he added. “Actually, I’m asking you to stop by the gym sometime. I’d love to actually fight someone who can keep up.”

Antonia’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t think you can keep up with me, old man,” she said. Another surprised laugh erupted from Barnes. She continued over him with her own slow-spreading grin. “No, you’re the old model. You wouldn’t believe what I could do.”

It kept Barnes laughing as he passed her to pull open the door. “Listen, I’ve heard that a thousand times, alright? There’s nothing like the original make. KO in two minutes tops.”

“Yes,” Atonia agreed. “And I will call Captain America to come wake you up afterwards.”

Wilson, across the room, did a commendable job of not looking like he was watching them or listening in. But Lerato also hadn’t looked away from what was, evidently, a very intense game of ping pong. On habit, she cataloged Wilson’s movements, the swings he preferred and his reaction times, the places his eyes darted first. She thought about telling Lerato where to place the ball to get a point, but they weren’t close enough to do so without getting caught and not getting caught was most of the fun.

“Thank you,” she said again to Barnes. “I will call. But not for therapy. You are just like the internet to me.”

Barnes chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough.”

“He’s right about as often as people on the internet are too,” Wilson called, breaking the flimsy illusion that he wasn’t listening in. Somehow, this did not interrupt the ping pong game.

“He is weak low on the dominant side,” Antonia told Lerato.

Lerato unleashed a particularly vicious spin on the ball that had it bouncing just on the other side of the net and spinning away from the table. It hit the wall hard enough to clatter back onto the game table, but Wilson had already straightened himself up with a huff of disappointment.

“I knew that,” Lerato answered, straightening herself so she could turn and grin at Antonia. “But it was good practice.”

Barnes barked out another laugh and leaned against an ornate table that seemed to have no use other than to hold him up. “You two better leave before we start another cold war. Trust me, you don’t want to be on the other side of Sam’s side-eye.”

Wilson glared at him, indeed from the side of his eye. “I do not have a side-eye.”

Barnes just raised an eyebrow at him as Antonia and Lerato let themselves out from the long hallway.

“How did it go?” Lerato asked when the soundproof doors were shut behind them. Antonia had already scanned for electronic devices, though she now felt she knew Barnes enough to know he wouldn’t keep any near him either.

“It was not bad,” Antonia admitted. She would not say the worrying had been for naught. She’d gone in cautious and she thought that helped them establish a baseline with each other.

“He didn’t turn into a giant monster and try to eat you?” Lerato teased.

“Would you have preferred that?”

“It would have made the afternoon interesting.”

As Antonia swept Lerato to the side, holding her close as they fell against a bare wall, Lerato laughed joyously and clung onto her. Even if there was a moment she almost tried to trip Antonia up.

“You would sacrifice me for an interesting afternoon?” Antonia asked in a low, grinning growl.

“Only because I know you’d have no problem holding your own.” Lerato beamed at her. Even the sun wouldn't have been able to compete.

“I’m the bait and the entertainment,” she surmised.

Lerato curled Antonia’s ponytail around two fingers, her others brushing Antonia’s neck. “If I say yes, will you show me?”

Antonia made a noise of agreement deep in the back of her throat and then kissed Lerato until all the rest of the anxiety had escaped her mind. This right here was a future worth having.

#antonia dreykov #bucky barnes #black widow #captain america #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #taskmaster marvel #taskmaster

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thingsasbarcodes · 5 months

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Black Widow (2021)

#black widow #mcu #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #alexei shostakov #red guardian #melian vostokoff #iron maiden #dreykov #taskmaster #antonia dreykov #rick mason #valentina allegra de fontaine #contessa valentina allegra de fontaine #ursa major #mikhail ursus #thunderbolt ross

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yxlenas · 1 month

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I hope Thunderbolts is just Bucky, Yelena, and Antonia talking mad shit about John Walker in Russian while he looks at them like ???? and Alexei just laughs

#Thunderbolts #yelena belova #bucky barnes #antonia dreykov

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archivomeow · 22 days

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thunderbolts: so it goes…

| SERIES; unfinished.

part one “some spy shit” | Yelena’s and Ava’s first meet up.

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p-taryn-dactyl · 2 years

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Fail-Safe (1)

a/n: hi everyone! Look at me with a new series that I’ll hopefully keep up with! I’ve had this idea in my mind for a while now and i hope someone enjoys it! Thank you for reading!!

tag list: @sunshadesnrainbowz word count: 1.7k

pairing(s): yelena belova x dark!sister!reader | kate bishop x dark!reader (not romantic) | antonia dreykov x dark!reader

warning(s)/notes: dark!fic | graphic displays of violence | depictions of blood + murder | Y/N is psycho but in a bad bitch way | throwing up | natasha being Y/N’s voice of conscious - in a ghost way | Y/N has a skeleton covered in vibranium + adamantium and gravitonium injections, bc I apparently can’t write a villain!reader who’s not overpowered | Y/N also has super enhanced speed, strength, freaking agility/flexibility | mentions of torture as a child and young adult | black widow movie implied that some black widow assassins are mutants | there’s prolly more tbh

Humming, you walked down the hall, fingers dragging against the wall, leaving streaks of blood to decorate the drab paint. Your steps were exaggerated, large and dancing. You felt the warm drip of blood from the cut on your head, where she was able to nick you. Licking the blood that dripped near your mouth, you chuckled, twirling the machete that had been dragging on the floor in your other hand. You would let her savor that little moment of hers, ignoring the fact you had just woken up from your sleep, you weren’t a total monster.

“Oh, Lana!” You sang out, laughing when you heard her panicked breaths. You paused in front of the double doors, where you saw the shadows of her feet shuffling. Cocking your head to the side, you smiled. Oh how you loved the hunt. You found another entrance to the room, stalking quietly like a cat to your prey. Once inside the room, you silently let your braids fall, your hair surrounding you like a curtain. You loved the dramatic things of your presentation, how your hair fell in front of your eyes, mixing with your blood. How it framed the cut on your scalp, how it accented the crazy look in your eyes. Tightening your grip on the knife, you creeped behind Lana, who was anxiously standing near the other door, waiting for you to come through. You tapped her shoulder, snickering as her body tensed up. She slowly turned around, eyes widening in fear when she saw you. She let out a gasp at the cut she had given you, watching with eyes radiating in alarm as blood stopped trickling, revealing the silver layer beneath your skin. You smirked sickly, the blood that had dripped down your face only adding to your psychotic glare.

“Peek-a-boo.” You whispered, pushing Lana backwards slightly, your strength making her stumble. But before she hit the ground, you swung your machete.

Two thumps on the floor. Blood flooding towards your barefoot feet, the red substance staining your skin. Resuming your humming, you twirled your now dripping knife leisurely, practically swaying out of the room, making your way into the kitchen. After all, you knew better than to kill on an empty stomach.

Kate could barely hold back the vomit building up in her throat. She covered her mouth and turned to walk out the room. Yelena just sat in a blood stained chair, looking at the scene with blank eyes. She had freed Lana almost right before the Snap, before she was gone for five years. She was a young, energetic woman, excited for her future. And now…

Yelena bit her knuckle as she shook her head, tears building in her eyes. She stood up, making her way out the door as the investigators went over the scene. She placed a comforting hand on Kate’s back, who was busy being reintroduced to her breakfast and lunch. When she was finished, Kate stood up, giving Yelena a weak smile before looking behind her at the scene with horror.

“God, who would- who would do something like that?” Voice hoarse from throwing up, Kate swallowed, her muscles constricting as she held back from vomiting once more. Yelena shook her head, still shocked from what she saw. Though the dead body, or the pieces of it, was nasty enough, the two women silently agreed on the most gruesome part. In the kitchen, there was a plate with a half eaten sandwich, made with blood stained hands. Yelena walked over to the plate, seeing a note underneath the porcelain. With steady hands, Yelena grabbed the paper gently, reading the words written in plain black ink.

“Always have a back up plan” is such a boring phrase, don’t you think? Anyways, have fun playing the game - it’s only just begun

See you soon, большая сестра

Yelena crumbled the note in her hand, fear and anger overtaking her. She slammed the fist on the counter, resting her forehead on the closed fist. Kate jumped at the sound, looking at her friend in concern.

“She’s baiting me,” the Russian snarled under her breath, standing up to pace back and forth in the kitchen, “that little-”

Yelena paused in her place, the last two words on the note finally registering. Frantically, she smoothed out the note, reading the last line over and over.

большая сестра

Big sister.

Yelena’s eyes widened as she stumbled backwards, note falling to the floor as she covered her mouth with her hand.

“Oh no…” she whispered, looking at the archer with dread-filled eyes. Kate looked at Yelena in confusion, slightly eyeing the tattered note on the floor.

Yelena just stared at her friend as memories flooded her mind.

Memories of her younger sister being forced into the role of a monster.

No one knew what Dreykov was doing to you. All they saw were your dulled eyes, the fresh wounds on your arms and legs, the tremble in your lips as you were desperate for salvation.

But it never came.

One day, Yelena was called in for a personal meeting with Dreykov. The young woman was rightfully anxious, worried she had done something out of place. Going through her mind, she recalled her past missions, each one ending in success. She had to work extra hard now that Natasha had betrayed the cause. Knocking on the giant doors, Yelena straightened her back out of respect when Dreykov’s voice invited her in.

“Ah, little Yelena, how I look forward to your future.” While he spoke like poisoned vinegar, Yelena only heard sweetened honey. She nodded at her leader, following him when he gestured at her as he walked down a hallway revealed by a scanner on his palm. Yelena took in the dark steel walls, the floor creaking ominously as she walked. Dreykov addressed her as he adjusted the cuffs of his blazer.

“It must be hard, being…sisters with a traitor,” his words sent anger flooding through Yelena, yet for some reason she didn’t know why, “but don’t worry little one, you still have one more for redemption.”

Recognition flickered through the blonde’s mind. Her younger sister, Y/N, had been dragged away years ago, presumed dead by the hands of the very man standing in front of Yelena now. She remembered crying that night, a foreign concept to her now.

Dreykov opened a sliding door, revealing a tub boiling with a mixture of silver and something not quite from earth. With a flick of his fingers, armored guards walked into the room, your limp form being carried by two of them. Yelena’s eyes widened at you being alive, the dotted lines all over your body, like you were about to have surgery. Your tired eyes connected with Yelena’s and you sent her a look she couldn’t interpret. Silently, you were placed in a tub filled with clear water, one next to the vat of boiling metal.

“Sadly, the only way, as my colleagues and i have learned, to control this metal is in it’s liquid form,” Yelena realized Dreykov had been speaking to her, quickly snapping her eyes away from you, “but this girl, she’s perfect for these experiments. She regenerates at a pace that far exceeds the experiment of my colleague and there’s something in her genetics, something…” Yelena didn’t know if she liked the gleam in his eyes, “moldable.”

She didn’t have time to question why the patriarch of the Red Room was being so chatty when he snapped and syringes filled with the metal, entering the water chamber through openings on the side. With fascination, Yelena watched as your skin was pierced and injected with the melted metal. Your screams echoed off the walls as you thrashed underwater.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Too bad you won’t remember it, little one.”

She barely registered his words before her vision went dark.

You didn’t remember the city, as you were torn from any chances of a future from a young age. But as you strolled down the streets, stolen clothes adorning your body, sipping on a fountain drink, you let yourself get immersed in the false waves of nostalgia. Your sunglasses rested on your head, tangling in your curls. But you didn’t care, the slight discomfort helped you stay focused. Soon, your target caught your eye and you casually made your way over.

A week had passed since the passing of Lana and you were getting bored. No one likes a player who doesn’t follow the rules of the game. Carefully, and as planned, you bumped into the girl, falling back slightly with practiced steps.

“Oh, crap I am so sorry!” Her concerned voice made you want to smirk but you merely smiled.

“It was my fault truly and, oh!” You looked down at your shirt, where the woman’s coffee had split. She looked sheepish, covering her eyes with her hand.

“Oh no it’s fine!” You assured her, waving your hands in the air, “once again, my fault. Let me buy you another?”

The woman laughed before nodding.

“Only if you let me buy you a coffee too, to make up for ruining such a gorgeous blouse.”

Holding out a hand, you introduced yourself, no fake names needed.

“Y/N Vostokoff.”

The woman took your hand like a deer falling into a perfectly placed trap.

“Laura Barton.”

You remembered the first time you were given your orders, the ones that would frame your life. It was as you were placed in a cryochamber, Dreykov walked into the room, the implants in your brain making you listen and obey his every word.

“In the case of my untimely death, I’m going to need a Huntress, someone willing to take out my killers,” he cupped your face, a false sense of fatherhood, “you will be by fail-safe, Y/N. If my empire falls, track down the ones responsible, any method you like, tear them apart - physically, mentally, emotionally, it doesn’t matter. Go after their loved ones, go after their loved ones loved ones. Crumble them to pieces, do you understand?”

As he walked away and frost flooded your vision, your mind latched on to his words, a small smile frozen on your lips as you slept. You only had one thought as you drifted into the cold darkness.

I understand

a/n: i feel like this was terrible but thank you for reading! Ik this is tagged as antonia Dreykov x reader and don’t worry, she shows up next chapter (if anyone wants it of course). I love you guys! [also more Y/N backstory next chapter]

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