It Was A Strange Thing, To See Another Walk So Evenly In His Own Footsteps. He'd Spent Years Hunting

he didn't know her well enough to object on whether or not she was always right, but he was relatively certain that she was right about this. he exhaled slowly, a habit more than anything else and while his expression remained carefully neutral, it was clear that his mind was racing, running through scenarios and weighting the risks against necessity.

❝ that's not going to work, ❞ bucky said, voice firm, ❝ i can't clear the building without setting off every alarm they've got. the second i start moving people, someone's gonna notice. cameras, guards, hell—just one wrong move and we're screwed before you even get to the bomb. ❞

it was an ugly thing to realise that killing people was a hell of a lot easier than saving them. ❝ we need a diversion. something to pull their attention, force them to readjust. like a better target. ❞

Amelia knew that she could talk for England, bouncing off facts and conclusions that sprawled into her head as if it were nothing, the odd looks that she often got, yet here Bucky was looking at her as if she were normal. "I'm always right" Amelia responded, for she had calculated every aspect inside of her mind. "..If we don't stop this from happening, then a lot of people are going to get hurt, and if I call my uncle and make it a national emergency.. he will be too slow, too many protocols and hurdles to get over" Amelia paused.

"we are going to have to do this ourselves..we don't have a choice" She could hear it now in the back of her head, Amelia Jessica Holmes you are reckless! The sound of John Watson's voice often invaded her mind, to try and give her some sense of simple reason. "I have dealt with people like this before, we will have to tread carefully and not be seen. Once I'm in there, I can disarm the bomb and you can help get everyone out. I suspect from that point, we will have, five minutes before they notice that something has gone wrong and probably ten minutes to truly be out of the building before hell breaks loose" She gave a small cock of her head, a slight smirk formed across her lips. "But that's always the fun of it, isn't it?"

seven deadly sins manifestation .

[ WRATH ] — he's always embodied wrath most naturally, before Hydra and before even the war, he has always been filled with fury towards those who abuse their power, who bully and belittle, and who harm. His wrath has only grown and become harsher, more precise and more person. He doesn’t just fight; he punishes. His control can slip, and the Winter Soldier’s brutality can emerge. Beneath this is another kind of anger—self-directed. He hates himself for what he did and for what he became.

[ SLOTH ] — he struggles with motivation, not because he doesn't care, but because caring hurts. There are days when he feels numb, when the weight of his past makes getting up and existing unbearable. He tries to force himself to act, to fight, but he rarely lets himself live. His sloth manifests in how he avoids emotional connections and vulnerability. He keeps people at arms length, afraid to form bonds, convincing himself he's better off alone to avoid the pain of attachment. At his lowest, sloth manifests as self-neglect—skipping meals, avoiding sleep, refusing to take care of himself because, at times, he doesn't see the point.

[ GREED ] — he doesn't and has never sought material wealth, his greed manifests in hoarding whatever peace he can find. He doesn’t trust easily, so when he does find something safe—a quiet corner of a city, a person who doesn’t look at him with fear, a cafe he feels comfortable—he clings to it. Similarly, he clings to sentimental objects and items, carries remnants of his past life as if letting go of them would erase what little he has left. His dog tags, Steve's old notebook and vinyls, letters from his sister stolen from the Smithsonian.

[ PRIDE ] — his pride is a double-edged sword. On one hand, he refuses help, believing he must atone for his past alone. He resists leaning on others, convinced that his redemption is his burden alone to carry which manifests in his lone-wolf vigilantism—he doesn’t want others involved, fearing they’ll get hurt or that they’ll see him as beyond saving. On the other hand, he struggles to accept kindness because, deep down, he doesn’t believe he deserves it. He seems constantly at odds with himself, proud of his skills and his abilities but ashamed of how he learned them.

[ ENVY ] — he struggles with envy. Feels it for those who live ordinary lives, who haven't experienced war, who retain innocence and optimism, who hold true to idealism and believe in humanity, kindness, love. He feels removed from these things, undeserving, robbed of being capable of it all and it can taint his interactions with people. He doesn't resent them, but there's a deep ache in him, a longing for a life he feels he'll never have.

[ GLUTTONY ] — isn't about food or indulgence with Bucky, instead it's about excess as a coping mechanism. He pushes himself too hard—training until his body aches, throwing himself into fights as if pain can make up for the past. He overindulges in isolation, in punishment, in guilt. He engages in violence not just for justice but because, in the heat of a fight, he feels something. His gluttony is about extremes—pushing himself too far, taking too much responsibility, refusing to allow himself balance.

[ LUST ] — It took a long time for Bucky to remember what desire really felt like, and even longer to let himself feel it without resistance. Lust for Bucky is about craving connection but fearing it at the same time. He wants closeness, but intimacy requires vulnerability, and vulnerability is dangerous. He yearns for it but when faced with the chance, he pulls away. His lust, then, is suppressed, redirected. He fights instead of embracing. He runs instead of reaching out. And in the rare moments he allows himself closeness, he does so like a man expecting it to be ripped away.

tagged by : @sangiusd3vil ♡ tagging : @memuntos ( zahra ), @staticveil , @disasteregyptologist , @kenosky , @d4ughter , @executiioner , @ru5t , @skiesfield and anyone else that would like to do it ♡

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLIDER (2014) dir. Anthony & Joe Russo

but what if i wrote war time letters that bucky sent to people that went up in the smithsonian ( until he stole them back post-tws )??? what then??

HEADCANON : the howling commandos .

The Howling Commandos were an elite combat unit formed by the Western Allies during World War II, consisting of eight registered members. Led by Steve Rogers, the team was overseen by Colonel Chester Phillips and the USSR. Their primary mission was to dismantle Hydra, the rogue Nazi organization, through covert operations.

SERGEANT JAMES "BUCKY" BARNES : Romanian-American, 107th Infantry Regiment. Sergeant Barnes was the designated marksman for the Howling Commandos, as the US military had no snipers at the time. He trained with British and French snipers before being deployed and joining the Commandos. An expert mathematician and an exceptional marksman, Barnes quickly earned a reputation among both the Allied Forces and their enemies. His skills made him notorious, especially after his capture by Hydra during the Battle of Azzano. After being rescued, Barnes joined the Commandos, where his reputation as a deadly marksman only grew.

Barnes often operated as a “lone wolf,” excelling when working independently. He used his skills in camouflage, fieldcraft, map reading, and signaling to serve as the Commando team’s "hunter" when direct assault wasn’t an option. In larger operations, Barnes would cover the team’s retreat or work on the periphery of the battle, operating quietly in the shadows rather than in the thick of combat like Captain Rogers.

SERGEANT TIMOTHY "DUM DUM" DUGAN : American, Non-commissioned Officer, 107th Infantry Regiment. Dugan and Barnes had worked closely together prior to joining the Commandos. With more experience than Barnes, Dugan was a brilliant tactician, an expert marksman, and possessed Olympian-level strength. Known as the most stubborn of the Commandos, he was fiercely loyal and persistent in the face of adversity. Dugan could lift the morale of the team with his unwavering determination.

He later worked alongside Colonel Phillips, Agent Carter, and Captain Rogers to strategize for future operations. After Captain Rogers' death, Dugan assumed the role of field leader.

PRIVATE GABRIEL "GABE" JONES : African-American, 92nd Infantry Division. Private Jones, like all members of the Commandos, was an expert marksman. When Agent Carter wasn’t available, Jones also served as the team’s translator, fluent in English, German, and French. His skill in interrogation and negotiation, coupled with his reputation for a silver tongue, made him invaluable to the team. He often handled heavy artillery and played a central role in keeping the Commandos united, maintaining high spirits even in dire situations.

Jones was also one of the only Commandos with musical talent, and his songs were a source of comfort and camaraderie. Barnes and Jones met while both were held prisoner by Hydra, and Jones’ optimism helped keep the other prisoners from losing hope.

PRIVATE JAMES "JIM" MORITA : Japanese-American, US Army Nisei Squadron. Morita’s experience in the military was turbulent, given the government’s distrust of Japanese-Americans after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Though his family had been interned, Morita volunteered for service, torn between fighting for a country that didn’t seem to fight for him or his family.

He served as a scout, an expert marksman, and had extensive experience in anti-guerrilla jungle warfare, raids, ambushes, sabotage, and close-quarters combat. Morita’s intense focus and willingness to face battle head-on made him a reliable and formidable member of the Commandos. Though somewhat blunt, he was always the first to volunteer for a mission and remained steadfast regardless of the odds.

MAJOR JAMES "MONTY" FALSWORTH : British, 3rd Independent Parachute Brigade. Major Falsworth was one of the most experienced members of the Commandos, having served for nine years in the British Armed Forces. Despite his rank, he was known for his hands-on approach, earning the respect of those he led. His combat expertise, combined with his reputation as a brilliant tactician, made him a key member of raiding parties and operations.

Falsworth would later adopt the identity of the masked hero Union Jack, using his skills to fight against Hydra and the Nazis.

JAQUES "LIGHT" DERNIER : French Resistance. Before joining the Commandos, Dernier was a baker who became an explosives expert in the French Resistance, fighting against Nazi occupation. He wasn’t enlisted in the military prior to his recruitment by Steve Rogers. Dernier led a small band of resistance fighters and had been tasked with coordinating sabotage operations on transport and communication networks. He was captured by Hydra after attempting to warn the 107th about their approach.

Known for his animated and expressive communication style, Dernier often used wild hand gestures, loud exclamations, and honest expressions to make his points known, even though many of the Commandos didn’t understand French. Barnes eventually picked up some French while they were imprisoned together, but mostly learned insults and profanities until they were freed by Captain Rogers.

MARGARET "PEGGY" CARTER : British, MI5 Spy, French Resistance, and Agent of the USSR. Agent Carter was one of the most valuable assets of the Commandos, serving as their codebreaker, translator, communications specialist, investigator, and tactician. A true jack-of-all-trades, she had unparalleled skills in infiltrating and gathering intelligence, and her role as a field member was classified for much of her life.

Carter's contributions to the team were so significant that her active membership with the Commandos remained secret even after the unit was disbanded, and much of her involvement stayed classified, even after her death.

HOWARD "HOWIE" STARK : American, Adviser and Master Engineer. Like Jaques Dernier, Stark was one of the few civilian members of the Commandos. A genius inventor and engineer, Stark’s skills were invaluable throughout the war. Though he rarely saw front-line combat, his contributions included retrofitting weapons, uniforms, and supplies for the team. Stark’s piloting skills were also called upon on several occasions, and despite not serving in a military capacity, he was considered an integral member of the team by all the Commandos.

so . . . that was the game. a challenge made—she leaned into his knife, reckless and with no fear of injury, nor pain, nor death—and answered. he reached, cybernetic fingers wrapping like a vice around her wrist and forced the sai's fang away from his neck. ❝ you're not my target. ❞ he made no motion to stab her, but nor did he remove his knife from where it lingered against her stomach. ❝ and if i was yours, you wouldn't waste your time talking. ❞

The blade kissing into her skin elicits a grin from the assassin. She anticipated such a reaction. She had never been face-to-face with the Winter Soldier before, but she was not unaware of him. It was a matter of time before the top assassins for Hydra and the Hand found themselves atop the same rooftop. "The same could be said for you. You left my heart beating." She pulls herself into his blade, feeling the cold metal cut a little further into her skin. The assassin doesn't flinch. Her expression as cold as the Soldier's.

Elektra is no stranger to death. Death is a second home with the first being far beyond reach now.

he smiled, tight lipped and still slightly grim, but it was a smile nonetheless. he watched her go, only once she was out of sight did he turn his eye to the shelves of books. it took him longer than he would have liked to admit to really pay attention to what he was looking at. he picked his way through, trying to remember the last time he actually read a book for leisure at all.

eventually, she returned to him and bucky arched a brow as she presented him with her find. the teasing was gone now, but he knew the feeling well—the hesitation before offering a piece of yourself. he took the book from her hand and blew out a breath, the velveteen rabbit. his expression softened, thumbing through the pages absently.

❝ okay . . . i'm impressed, ❞ bucky admitted, ❝ i didn't think this place would have it. ❞ he turned the book over in his hands before presenting her with his own find. milk and honey by the poet rupi kaur. what is stronger than the human heart, he'd read while thumbing through the pages. ❝ we might need a third opinion. ❞

kara stepped further inside,  the dim light filtering through cracked windows,  tracing the curve of her cheek as she smirked over her shoulder.  ❝oh,  you’re on, ❞ she said,  voice laced with something playful but edged in challenge.  her fingers trailed along the spines of forgotten books,  their titles half-erased by time,  their covers worn soft like well-loved things.  there was something about places like this — untouched,  abandoned,  yet still breathing with the weight of words left behind.  ❝winner gets to pick the next adventure, ❞ she added,  glancing at him as if daring him to up the stakes. 

she disappeared into the stacks before he could answer,  moving through the rows with an ease that came from years of seeking refuge in places like this.  a quiet sanctuary,  where no one asked who you were before or what you might become.  her fingers stopped on a book with a cracked leather spine,  its gold lettering dulled but still there.  the velveteen rabbit.  she exhaled softly,  thumb brushing over the title.  a story about being loved into something real.  a story about survival.  about what it meant to endure. 

when she found him again,  she held it up without a word,  her gaze steady.  a moment passed between them,  something unspoken stretching in the quiet.  ❝i think i win, ❞ she said finally,  but her voice had lost its teasing edge.  there was something else there,  something weightier,  as if she was offering more than just the book.  a piece of herself,  maybe.  a quiet understanding,  waiting for him to take it not knowing that behind her back she held yet another surprise. ❝ you find anything?❞

the docks reeked of salt and rust, the brine curling in off the water and tangling with the sharp scent of oil slicks and cigarette smoke. bucky was midway through unloading a shipment when he saw him. limping slightly, a welt blooming ugly and purple along his cheekbone, just shy of his eye. a split lip, dried blood crusted at the corner. jacket dusted with grit and knuckles raw. bucky swore under his breath, setting the crate he'd been carrying down and ignoring the curious looks his coworkers shot him as he met him on the quay.

[ 05 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury they got while doing something the receiver warned them not to attempt alone.

❝ for chrissake, steve! ❞ bucky all but growled once he was close enough he wouldn't have to yell, ❝ i told you to wait for me. ❞ his fingers twitched—tempted to grab him, shake him, maybe slug him once for good measure. they'd heard about the harrisons through the usual gossip on their block. moved in a few weeks ago, two floors below his and steves. mrs. harrison was as sweet a girl as anyone could ask for and pretty as a doll, but mr. harrison was a stone cold drunk with a tendency to talk with his fists.

❝ how bad? ❞ bucky asked, lips pressing into a grim line because he knew. knew that if steve confronted the man half-cocked and alone then something had to have gone very, very wrong. // @sh1elded , injuries + aid prompts .

this time when the smile came, it was easier, intentional. he watched the way that her eyes seemed to brighten with a challenge, an unspoken dare breathed out between them. she slipped passed him with practiced ease, light footed and smooth as silk, answering his teasing with some of her own.

he watched her for another handful of short seconds. the way she glanced back at him, how her fingers brushed over the abandoned shelves. he followed after her—something that was becoming effortless—and peaked over her shoulder as she drew pride and prejudice from one of the shelves. he remembered seeing the bright orange covers the hotel taft used to hand out to its guests like a gideon bible or a complimentary set of matches.

❝ who could say no to a little jane austen to finish the night? ❞ bucky retorted as he fell into step beside her. he didn't remember much of the novel itself, bits and pieces of the narrative and the writing style trickled into the forefront of his mind as they made their way to her designated rooftop spot. ❝ in one night? that's ambitious even for you. ❞ he said, amusement lacing itself into his voice as he spoke.

kara let her smirk linger,  the kind that meant trouble in the gentlest way.  ❝ alright,  no voices, ❞ she conceded,  tilting her head as if weighing the terms of their unspoken deal.  ❝ but we take turns. ❞ a flicker of challenge lit her eyes as she stepped past him,  brushing close enough for the scent of old paper  &  night air to settle between them.  ❝ &  since you’re so particular about your books,  i say we start with a tree grows in brooklyn. ❞

she didn’t wait for his answer,  only cast him a glance over her shoulder,  teasing,  daring,  as she stepped toward the doorway.   her fingers skimmed along the shelves as they made their way out,  movements lazy,  absentminded — until they weren’t.  she paused,  plucking a worn copy of pride  &  prejudice from where it had been tucked between heavier,  less inviting spines.  she held it up just enough for him to see,  lips curling at the edges.  ❝for variety, ❞ she remarked,  slipping it under her arm as she pushed open the door.  ❝unless you’re afraid of a little romance.❞

outside,  the night air pressed cool against her skin,  the city stretching wide  &  endless beyond them.  the rooftop she’d promised loomed ahead,  waiting,  their own private escape above the world.  ❝but don’t worry,  barnes.  i’ll read the good parts. ❞ a beat.  a wicked little grin.  ❝&  by that,  i mean all of it. ❞

the engine ticks as he killed it, too loud in a place where things came to die. she was already halfway out the door, frustration wrapped around her like a second skin as she held her phone high in an effort to get cell service. it was futile, but bucky didn't mention it as he climbed out of the drivers seat. he stayed by the car, pale gaze sweeping their surroundings slowly.

the cornfield surroundings swayed slowly in the distance as he scanned the tree line, but there was nothing but silhouettes and the taste of rain. the place didn't have a name, and it hadn't shown on the GPS, let alone on any map he'd studied. he glanced back at her. maria wasn't wrong. friendly conversations really weren't his thing, but he didn't like the idea of her walking into the gas station alone. something about the town felt wrong. it felt like the kind of nowhere place that people disappeared into.

❝ so you can do the talking, ❞ bucky said as he shut the drivers side door and locked it. ❝ and i'll stock up on roadtrip junkfood. ❞ // @castlevowed , continued from here .